Raking It In

If you have followed my blog, you've probably picked up on the fact that I like writing about the things my grandfather Eli did and also about his concern for the loss of the remarkable American Chestnut tree. I believe he would be pleased with the efforts being made to develop a blight-resistant tree that will hopefully be reintroduced into the forests where its ancient relatives once dominated. Granddad often spoke about the wonderful qualities of Chestnut wood and the great versatility it provided, being used for practically any wood projects as well as coming from a tree that bore copious quantities of nuts for animal and human consumption.

Granddad was the last generation to essentially live off the land, never having what you would describe as a occupation. He lived by growing food, hunting, fishing and selling the occasional load of mine ties or props from the forest.  In this way, he and his wife provided for their family of eight children, all of whom are no longer living. It was a very different era, one filled with simple pleasures and plenty of hard work. Granddad had hay fields that, for the most part, were mowed and raked by hand and then the hay was hauled into the barn for animal sustenance during the winter months. The raking of hay was accomplished with a wooden implement, often homemade from materials at hand and one of those rakes survived on display on my back porch for the last forty years or so. A couple weeks ago, I found it on the porch floor apparently dislodged form where it hung by some critter (I suspect a Phoebe trying to find a nest site). The handle (a not perfectly straight sapling) had broken off where it joined the head beam and the two bows that jointed the handle to the beam had shattered.

I'm in the process of repairing the relic, not so much because I want to rake hay but because it reminds me of from where I've come. A couple of the teeth had been missing from the time I hung it up there so long ago and I've replaced them and reshaped the end of the handle using a draw knife that no doubt has felt the sweat of Granddad's hands a long time ago. Then almost as though I'd never seen it before, I realized that the beam of the rake was fashioned from a piece of , you guessed it, American Chestnut. How appropriate; a memory that reminds me of my past and within it a piece of that precious wood that Granddad figured would be no more.

We must always consider what our purpose is in being given the lives we live here on Earth. In some ways that was easier in Granddad's era. His purpose was to do what was required to keep himself and his family in provision. I believe he understood that all the provision came from God and even though he had to do the hard work, God provided the means and material. Once the rake is back together and in its place, it will be an even stronger reminder of the gratitude we all must have for those from whom we're descended and the everlasting faith we must have in a loving God.