The Family Farm

Thinking back, when I was young
Of all the times, we had to come
Grandma and Pap, and sweaty gloves
Teaching us all, the meaning of Love

They worked so hard, for all they have
Hard times would come, but never last
Using just bare hands, no fancy machines
But still received awards, the county corn kings

Through selling seed, to mowing stalks
All the while wondering, how long he could walk
Grandma in the kitchen, the break of sunlight
Making sausage and gray, it was always just right

Then tragedy came, the loss of a son
Yet another time in life, when most would run
But Grandma and Pap, rock solid as ever
Just one example, of what they’ve been through together

One thing’s for sure, this story won’t end
The farm has survived, again and again
A hoosier homestead, A way to live
And of course the memories, it continues to give

But it’s not the farm, that keeps us so tight
It’s thinking of each other, in the Christmas moon light
The times to come, the times gone bye
And the ones we lost, looking down from high

We’ve all been blessed, Christmas past and present
Just to have each other, and god in our presence
Have a merry Christmas Grandma, and thank god above
For it is you and Pap together, that taught the power of love