Dear Ruth and Mary,
You may be farmer’s daughters, but you’re still little girls. And when the rain came yesterday afternoon, you shouted, “Yay! Rain for Daddy’s fields!”
You are always ready to welcome everything as a gift. Even if it’s rain on Daddy’s hay that was almost dry enough to bale.
I stopped your cheering and tried to explain that the rain could damage the crop. I gathered you close as I prayed aloud that the rain would stop.
And then you went outside and danced for joy in the warm summer rain.
You only remembered the way we’d been praying it would rain last month. You are too young to understand how the storm clouds can just as easily add the lines of stress to your daddy’s face as they can answer his prayers.
I’m glad you’re still young enough that a summer rain can’t dampen your spirits. I would do well to emulate your childlike faith and gratefulness.
Fresh cut alfalfa does smell so very good in the rain. And the brief shower did freshen up the air on a hot and muggy Monday. Then a warm breeze came up to dry the hay again. Daddy might even be able to bale it tonight.
So keep dancing in the rain, my girls. Even if it is in between rows of fresh cut alfalfa.