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Harvest Forlorn
_____There
was a farmer who tended his fields with great diligence. He tilled the
ground patiently and prepared the soil for planting. There were many beautiful
and bountiful plants he desired to grow and he set forth on his journey
to sow the appropriate seeds.
The rains came, followed by glorious sunshine, and the sprouts peaked
out to see the light of day. Soon the fields flourished with crops of
all kinds. There were fruits, vegetables, and flowers as far as the eyes
could see.
_____Harvest was fast approaching and the
farmer made no preparations to reap the benefits of his fields. He had
worked long and hard and wanted to bask in the beauty of his creation.
Days passed; then weeks turned to months with still no harvest. The fields
had long been covered with rotting and rodent infested remnants of what
had been there. He usually sat alone, looking proudly at an album he had
created with pictures of the richest of acreage. The farmer rarely made
his way outside the modest farmhouse anymore, for having the photographs
of his most incredible accomplishment made it unnecessary for him to look
upon it anymore. He looked longingly forward to the day when he could
once again plow and plant his fields, all the while dreaming of a creation
to top even this most recent success.
_____He offered daily a prayer of thanksgiving
for the small garden behind the farmhouse that was able to bear enough
food to sustain him throughout the year without him having to disrupt
his prized field. The small garden was indeed a modest blessing for the
farmer, as it not only protected his fields, but made trips into the nearby
village entirely unnecessary. This was most welcome since these trips
were not among his favorite of pastimes. He did not enjoy in the least
having to pass the meager homes of the impoverished village. The sight
of hungry children and embattled mothers toiling in vein failed to entertain
him. Indeed, it was all together better that he not make his way into
this painful environment. In fact, he often said an extra prayer of thanksgiving
at bedtime; thanksgiving for the wall he had built around his farm that
sheltered him from the indigence nearby. Indeed, his life was blessed.
© 1993 - Paul Stephens
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