As I stepped into the clearing, from my stroll in the snowy timber, the old barn greeted me with its familiar form. Gnarled limbs quietly framed the well loved structure that was built by calloused, ancestral hands.
I couldn’t help but think of the first of them, who saw this piece of ground and dreamed a dream.
With stubborn determination, love for the land, and a deep yearning to build a legacy
They toiled.
Years.
Decades.
Generations.
They toiled.
And all the while, the land lay silently, watching…listening
Holding, in safekeeping, the story of the family
Who dreamed
And toiled
And loved.
If one, who passes by, carefully listens
He will surely hear
The tall grasses whisper among themselves
Recounting the treasured moments
In Celebration of Heritage
***********
