Farmers’ roots are planted deep in the soil they work. That network of roots grows out for generations, linking great grandparents to today’s children through a sense of place and purpose.
Across the prairies there are signs of the seeds of those roots. Derelict windmills standing on the prairies, silent sentinels of earlier family farms. These were the homesteads of the many who had come from across the world to find a better life in Canada.
Since those early settlers, family farms have been places where sweat, hardship and sacrifice, laughter and joy, good seasons and bad co-exist. And through it all, the farmer and their families love the land and what they do, continuing to feed the world through wars, drought, economic depression and now, pandemic.
My grandparents came west in the good years but lost their farm during the Great Depression of the 1930s. Their children never forgot the sorrow of this loss. My father, who only ever wanted to farm, had to leave when the bankruptcy firm put the FOR SALE sign on the gatepost. In later years, the family would drive out to the place where their farm had been and talk about the good times while tears ran down their cheeks.
For people who have never farmed, this kind of connection with a life that extracts toil and offers so much uncertainty must seem utterly mysterious. Let me explain.
The family farm is not just about profit and loss or big equipment. It’s about 4H shows and kids who know the value of hard work because they helped grind the feed and fork up the hay to feed the animals through rainstorms and blizzards. It’s about walking down the lane holding hands with your young son or daughter after a day in the field. It’s about stopping the tractor to move a duck’s nest. It's about sweating while out fencing and drinking from the water jug or pausing to watch a sunrise as you move the cows to pasture. It’s about working together, riding along in the equipment with Mom or Dad and having meals in the field off the tailgate of the half-tonne at harvest time.
The family farm is about hot summer days spent baling hay for the winter and teaching your children and grandchildren to run the equipment. It’s about seeing your crop sway in the afternoon breeze from your kitchen window and watching the cattle graze in the distance, knowing you're home.
