Did You Mean to Recreate Eden?
A while back I asked friends of the farm to help me tell our story through stories of their own. Mary Mortenson shared this poem with me and I was overcome with emotions. I’m not great with expressing my emotions—I error on the side of silence and putting my head down to deal with what is put in front of me. Two years ago today, Jeff was moved to the ICU as his symptoms from Covid worsened. Jeff made it through, but the month that he spent in the hospital left a lasting mark on both of us.
I almost lost everything: my husband, my home, my job. If something had happened to Jeff, I didn’t have a lot of options.
Since then I’ve dedicated most of my waking moments to creating a sustainable business. One that reflects who I am and what I love to do with the hope that other people would appreciate and support it. The farm is starting to take that shape. I get to grow vegetables, make locally sourced pizzas and salsa, host events, and take care of animals. April 1, 2011, Jeff and I became the caretakers of this farm. As we enter our 13th year of being in this space, it’s becoming a place that can also take care of us .
None of this would be possible with out the community that has surrounded us. I’m in awe of the people who we now get to call our friends. I want everyone who comes here to experience the magic of being on the farm. Jeff and I felt it the first time we came down the driveway. The farm has no expectations for you—it’s here to accept you where you are at.
It’s a place to relax,
to run
to play.
I hope to see you at the farm in 2023.—-Nancy
By Mary Mortenson
Did you mean to recreate Eden?
Did you mean to create a place
where the very soil is honored?
Did you mean to create a place of safety
for the creatures that cross your path?
Did you mean to bless them with names like
T-bone, Rex, Rita, Maria, Pearl and her baby?
Did you mean to treat Harold and Charlie with such regard
that they daily baptize themselves in the mud,
knowing themselves to be handsome?
I believe you did intend for the
Good Earth to be a special place.
Perhaps you meant it as a holy place,
not only for the animals and the earth,
but for the people whose circumstances bring them to you.
There is the couple with the beautiful husky,
who calmly accepts the adoration of those around him.
There is the little boy who shyly shows us
the picture he has taken of us on his mom’s phone.
There is that same boy and his mom
to whom Jack sends a picture of them –
mom reaching over son with all the love and protection
that the birds are showing to their young at that same moment.
There is the little girl who is encouraged enough
to offer stand-up comedy at open mic night.
And there is me –
one of so many to whom you have offered sanctuary.
A place where I can sit and just be quiet.
A place where I can enjoy music and fellowship.
A place where I can dance with the man I love,
Knowing we are accepted and safe, welcomed and loved.
I don’t know if you intended to recreate Eden,
but if Eden is love and joy and laughter and shared tears,
she is recreated, and so are those she touches.
