Self-discipline is built into farm life

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farm kids

“Example is not the main thing in influencing others, it is the only thing.”

— Albert Schweitzer

In looking back on those who held great influence on a life, most words are empty vessels that disappear into ether, while life’s actions and accomplishments prove weighty beyond measure.

It goes without saying that constant disruptive behavior lacking all leadership can crush the dreams of youth before those dreams are even put into hopeful words.

A recent study cites lack of steady discipline within the family structure as that which has led to many of society’s woes in today’s world.

In short, parents who want to be friends with their children often fail to provide discipline required to accomplish positive growth.

Where along the way have we fallen so far off course?

It might seem woefully simplistic to blame the death of the once tight-knit American community and more specifically family farms, but there is a good argument it has played at least a part.

Nothing good will ever come from boredom, one thing that most farm kids don’t experience.

Self-discipline is built in daily chores, the more demanding the better. Knowing that there was great consequence when chores were done only half-heartedly made a difference, one which I took to heart very early in my own life.

Caring for calves was my first chore, and I took to it like a duck to water. It isn’t the kind of job that can be done only when the mood strikes and the pride of watching a living thing thrive and grow brought its own great reward.

It quickly became a goal to keep doing better, wishing to prove myself worthy of the responsibility.

Dad took several young men under his wing when they became workers on our farm. One asked him to be best man in his wedding, putting into words how much Dad’s involvement in his life meant.

These young men didn’t just show up at chore time, but became a part of our family, joining in the fun around our kitchen table, meeting our aunts, uncles and grandparents, who also took an interest in their lives.

There are pictures in family photo albums of a new tractor being driven by one of these young men, his smile one of pure joy.

Another picture shows three young men beaming beside the new kicker baler, each drinking a bottle of Pepsi to celebrate no more hay wagon stacking.

Any accomplishment was a shared one, which is the way my father chose to live his life.

There is no doubt that the living example my parents created in their marriage and on their farms, not only for their children but for others who perhaps needed a role model to emulate, made a difference in a way that lip service alone never would have accomplished.

I was born lucky. I realize that, with gratitude, more and more with each passing year.

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