Days with Dad
My dad managed grain elevators, and I'd often spend the day there, especially during harvest. Back then, those shiny steel augers in the dump pit looked huge, and the rollers over the pit seemed awfully far apart. But the positives far outweighed the negatives. I made friends with some of the kids who rode the grain trucks with their fathers.
We used to spend a whole day with one family at least once a week. Their daughter was only a few years older than I was. I was an only child, so she became my unofficial big sister and best friend. We'd play in the hayloft, or she'd take me for rides on a Ford 8N tractor.
I also remember the roaring, bluish-orange rings of fire from the grain dryers, the smell of hot corn and the chattering sound the kernels made moving through the screens. Then there was the brief flash of a smile on a farmer's dirty, tired face when he got paid.
So when you sit down at the kitchen tables to eat, ask God's blessing on our farmers and their families. And keep giving kids rides on your tractors. It might inspire them to be a farmer someday.