There is a legend in southern McPherson County, which needs to be told to each generation of the souls who dwell there, “and everywhere.”
The blazing sun bore down on Kansas in the summer of the early 1950s. Day after day of 100-plus degrees, “and no hopes for rain.” The sparse wheat crop had been harvested early in June. Now all that remained were the sun- parched fields of wheat stubble that needed to be plowed under to prepare the ground for next year’s wheat crop.
A young farmer struggled to keep up his faith of Mennonite vintage in the face of such trying heat and drought. He went about his daily tasks in the relentless heat. On this day he vowed he would begin the prodigious task of plowing his fields. His ancient tractor, a veteran of many hot summers, would once again be called upon to provide the horsepower for the task of plowing and tilling the clods.
As he started across the field, he became even more aware how difficult the task would be. No! his tractor did not have an airconditioned cab, not even an umbrella to shield him from the relentless heat of the midday sun. After making several slow and arduous trips across the field, with the plow turning up huge concrete-like slabs of earth, he was thirsty! Oh so thirsty!, for just a small drink of cool water from his new water jug. As he neared the end of the round next to the dusty road, he was amazed to see the figure of a man struggling down the side of the road. Approaching the man he saw him raise his hands. His gestures suggested something with his mouth. The farmer then realized that the man wanted a drink of water. Without hesitation he took his water jug and poured a cup full of water and gave it to the stranger who took it and savored it to the very last drop. Little did the young farmer realize he had poured out all of the water in the jug. He, too, “was very thirsty.
When the man had finished sipping the water, he was about to continue his hot journey. He turned to the young farmer and thanked him profusely, wishing for him God’s blessing. Slowly and painfully he continued on down the road.
Immediately it became evident to the young farmer, that he needed to help the traveler. He walked home, leaving his tractor and carrying his empty jug. When he arrived home, he went to the water pump and filled the jug with cool water from the well. (He had purchased the jug the day before when he was in town) knowing full well he would need it for the long, hot plowing season. He set on down the road to find the weary traveler. He soon caught up with him as he trudged along the hot dusty road. He gave him the jug. The man was overcome with emotion and could not speak. He could not believe the generosity of the young farmer profusely. He then resumed his way down the road.
Upon returning home, the young farmer was reminded of the words of Jesus, when he said, “A cup of cold water given to the least of these, is given unto me.”
This story was told to me by my dear wife, Ellen, during an evening of reflection on some of the especially meaningful events in our lives. You see, “The young farmer was her cousin.”
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There is a legend in southern McPherson County, which needs to be told to each generation of the souls who dwell there, “and everywhere.”
The blazing sun bore down on Kansas in the summer of the early 1950s. Day after day of 100-plus degrees, “and no hopes for rain.” The sparse wheat crop had been harvested early in June. Now all that remained were the sun- parched fields of wheat stubble that needed to be plowed under to prepare the ground for next year’s wheat crop.
A young farmer struggled to keep up his faith of Mennonite vintage in the face of such trying heat and drought. He went about his daily tasks in the relentless heat. On this day he vowed he would begin the prodigious task of plowing his fields. His ancient tractor, a veteran of many hot summers, would once again be called upon to provide the horsepower for the task of plowing and tilling the clods.
As he started across the field, he became even more aware how difficult the task would be. No! his tractor did not have an airconditioned cab, not even an umbrella to shield him from the relentless heat of the midday sun. After making several slow and arduous trips across the field, with the plow turning up huge concrete-like slabs of earth, he was thirsty! Oh so thirsty!, for just a small drink of cool water from his new water jug. As he neared the end of the round next to the dusty road, he was amazed to see the figure of a man struggling down the side of the road. Approaching the man he saw him raise his hands. His gestures suggested something with his mouth. The farmer then realized that the man wanted a drink of water. Without hesitation he took his water jug and poured a cup full of water and gave it to the stranger who took it and savored it to the very last drop. Little did the young farmer realize he had poured out all of the water in the jug. He, too, “was very thirsty.
When the man had finished sipping the water, he was about to continue his hot journey. He turned to the young farmer and thanked him profusely, wishing for him God’s blessing. Slowly and painfully he continued on down the road.
Immediately it became evident to the young farmer, that he needed to help the traveler. He walked home, leaving his tractor and carrying his empty jug. When he arrived home, he went to the water pump and filled the jug with cool water from the well. (He had purchased the jug the day before when he was in town) knowing full well he would need it for the long, hot plowing season. He set on down the road to find the weary traveler. He soon caught up with him as he trudged along the hot dusty road. He gave him the jug. The man was overcome with emotion and could not speak. He could not believe the generosity of the young farmer profusely. He then resumed his way down the road.
Upon returning home, the young farmer was reminded of the words of Jesus, when he said, “A cup of cold water given to the least of these, is given unto me.”
This story was told to me by my dear wife, Ellen, during an evening of reflection on some of the especially meaningful events in our lives. You see, “The young farmer was her cousin.”
