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     About the Potatoes

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about the potatoes 

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braffolo, a pig for our times

behind the closet door

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ol' Snuff

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two gallons of paint 

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song #14

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black night, dark thoughts 

one day

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monkey's uncle?

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Like the cold of snow in the time of harvest
are faithful messengers to those who send them;
they refresh the spirit of their masters.
— Proverbs 25:13



There was once a man who owned many large properties. And he put capable men over them all in order to make each one profitable. This was before the days of good law in these parts, and so the men who tended the land were very often also the keepers of law and order.

One of his properties was in a territory way to the west of here. The property was huge, with lots of good farming land, and mountains and several forested areas. It had plenty of pastureland, and so there the man raised lots of cattle. All of the property was well watered by a river and several creeks. Springs also flowed up out of the rocks, watering the hills and some of the open places.

After a few years, outlaws came in and took possession of this land. They killed the men in charge, and took the land for themselves. All the hired workers of the land were forced to stay and work for nothing. They were not allowed any of the cattle for meat, any grain for bread, or milk for butter and cheese. They were only allowed to grow and eat potatoes. In effect, they and their families had become slaves.

And this went on for quite a while because in those days, news traveled very slowly, and the owner was in another state far to the south and east.

But when no messengers, no letters, and no news at all arrived after a long time, the man who owned the land realized that something was wrong. He sent a couple of his own good men to see what had happened. A couple of months later he received their letter:

“Your property has been taken over by outlaws. The workers and their families have been forced to stay and work the land as slaves. The managers you hired have all been killed.”

The two men waited for word as to what they should do.

The owner sent word to the marshal of the territory, asking for help. But the marshal was tied up with other troubles far to the south, and would be unable to get help to the man’s property for a long while. So the man sent word, telling his two good men to hire some help from the nearby towns, and to take the land back.

And this might've worked out well except that there were not many settlements or towns nearby. The only ones around were very small, and they were somewhat loyal to the outlaws, because the outlaw’s relatives and friends also ran the little towns. The local "help" hired by the two good men were quick to rob them and kill them once they got up into the hills.

After a long while, the owner of the property realized that again something had gone wrong. And so he sent others out.

This time he sent more of his own men and hired help from his own area. He sent out a band of eleven good and trustworthy men. And they arrived at the property a couple of months later.

His men were all capable fighting men. But the enslaved workers had been told to set a trap for them, making it easy for the outlaws to surprise and kill them. The workers wanted very much to be free, but the outlaws had taken their children and threatened to kill them if the adults did not obey. So they did as they were told.

One of the eleven had been left behind in a nearby town, to send word just in case things went bad. Things went bad. And when he learned of the massacre, he wrote a letter to the owner, giving him the bad news.

At about that time the owner’s son returned from war in another land, and he soon heard of all the trouble. He told his father that he would take care of the problem. So the man sent his own good son, along with what amounted to a small army of good fighting men to settle the problem.

After a long journey, the son arrived, riding with his men right into the middle of the property. The workers came out again to trick the men, but the son sent some of his men with the adults, and they found and released their children, herding all the people away to a safe place. Then he and his men rode up to the main house and surrounded the outlaws. Victory went to the son right away. He rounded up all the outlaws, and sent them off with half his men to the territorial marshal to be tried for murder and other crimes.

When the news got out, some of the people from the nearby towns rode out to avenge their relatives and friends. But they were quickly defeated, also, and some were even killed. Those who survived decided to go home and stay alive.

Rather than install new managers, the good son remained for awhile as head over the property. He built a new house for himself, and houses for those who helped him run and protect the place. He also did some good things for the people who had been used as forced labor by the outlaws. He released them all, of course. And he paid them back wages, plus damages for all the work they had been forced to do. And he offered free land and a house for each family.

He told them, “This, my father’s land, is now also my own land. I will give each family 50 acres and a house of your own. Choose your spot, anywhere on my good land, and I will give it to you. If you don’t want to stay and work the land, then I will pay you the equivalent, and you can go buy property and a house wherever you want.”

More than half the families decided to continue working for the father and his son. They were given good land, and each of them received a new house. A new schoolhouse was also built for all the children, and several of the women began to take turns teaching. The son also paid the expenses to have a couple of new stores opened in the nearest town, to better supply the families with needed items.

But some of the families just wanted to get away. They wanted to get a place of their own, away from the big property altogether. They took their pay and bought places of their own. With all the money the son had given them for back wages, and damages, and for land, and for a house, these families were able to do well for themselves. Some of these families traveled back east, or to other parts of the country. But a few settled a few miles away.

Years went by and things seemed to go pretty well for most everyone.

But then several years of drought settled in. The crops began to fail. And the streams began to dry up. Some of the springs also ceased to flow, and others slowed to a trickle. Times were hard then. The cattle were not reproducing well, and some were dying off.

One day the son called his youngest worker into the big house and said to him, “I’m very concerned for the families who moved away. Many of them have almost no food at all. And some have small children. I haven’t much to offer, since the times are hard, but I’m sending you with what I have.”

“Yes, sir,” the young man said.

The good son went on to say. “The potatoes are about the only thing that seemed to hold up this year. I can send a small amount of wheat, a little cheese, and a good supply of potatoes.”

So the young worker loaded up a wagon with fresh potatoes and small amounts of wheat and cheese for each of those families who had their own lands. He took the food out to the families, and they were very glad to receive it because they had very little food. He made several trips, until all the families had been supplied.

In the spring, the son sent the young man out again. This time he only had potatoes because the wheat and the cheese were gone. And the people were glad for the food, but not as happy when they saw that there would be no cheese or wheat. They were getting very tired of eating only potatoes.

Later that year, when the north winds began to blow cold, the good son once again called the young worker back to the big house. "You worked hard during the harvest," he told the young man. "And you know that we reaped very little wheat or corn or beans this year. Again, only the potatoes did well. But I've heard that the other farms did even worse. The families will starve if we don't help them."

And so they loaded the wagon with a great pile of potatoes. And they also put small amounts of wheat and cheese and corn and beans in sacks for each family. In fact, the good son had even divided up his own portion of these more desirable things for the sake of the growing children in the families.

And the young worker went around to the properties, taking all that the son had given. But the response from many of them was not what he had expected. Some of the men, because times were so hard, had lost all hope. They had turned to drinking, wasting what little they had.

When the wagon came to some of the homes, then, the young man was driven away before he could even say anything or give them anything. But as he went away, he stopped at the fence lines of those properties, and set down the bags of food the families would need. He knew that the women or the children would soon find it and take it back to the house, rather than starve.

And at some other places, the people mocked the young worker and the good son who had sent him.

“Why do you bring us all these potatoes, boy?”

“What’s the matter with that stupid boss of yours?”

“These potatoes are useless as food. Keep them and make them into something good — something to drink! Then we will have a big party, and we will even drink to you and your stupid boss!”

The young man didn’t know what to say to such comments, so he just laughed along with them as he handed down the portions of potatoes and other food to the children to take inside. At least these people, he thought to himself, do not try to chase me away.

Only a few of the families were grateful for the food, and made no bad remarks about the potatoes. And for these, the young worker was very thankful. He knew that the times were hard, and that many people were bitter. But the complaining and quarrelling made nothing better.

When the spring skies turned blue and the sun moved higher into the sky, the day came around for more wagonloads of potatoes to go out. The young man was not eager to see this time arrive. He hadn’t told the son about how the people were acting, or any of the terrible things some of them had said about his generosity.

“Well, here we are,” said the son. “I want to share whatever we have with the outlying families.” But he could see the troubled look on the young worker’s face. And he pressed the young man to tell him what was wrong, and so the worker told the son everything.

“You must not let this trouble you at all," the son answered. "The hard times make human hearts bitter. We must do whatever we can to help them through this. You’re doing a good work. Do not become discouraged or bitter yourself. We’ll simply continue to do whatever we can.”

And so the young worker went around again with the wagonloads of potatoes to all the families. But things did not go well for him. Many of the men and women, and even the children, took the potatoes only to throw them back at the young man and the horses that pulled the wagon. Of course the horses responded by rearing up and running. The wagon nearly flipped over twice. As it was, the young man spent much of his time picking up sacks of food and all the potatoes that had spilled from the bouncing and rocking wagon.

When he returned to the barn late that evening, he was bruised and weary, and the horses were still jumpy. The other workers saw this, and word got back to the good son who owned the land. He called all the workers together and encouraged them. And told the young man that he was fortunate to have suffered for doing well. The young worker did not understand why he should count himself fortunate to be mistreated, but he was grateful for the encouragement.

For three more years the drought and the famine continued. And twice a year the young worker would take the food, such as it was, around to the families in need. Sometimes there would be a little more grain or a few more beans. Maybe a little more cheese if the cattle fared well. And sometimes these things were in shorter supply. But always the potatoes did well. And they seemed to be in even a greater abundance whenever the other crops were leaner.

Some of the people grew more and more bitter, throwing rocks instead of potatoes, and bitterly cursing the young man and the son who sent him. But others gradually grew quieter, and more resolved to get through this difficult time, and they become more grateful for the food that was being offered. They shared new recipes with each other, and laughed about all the ways they had learned to prepare potatoes. It struck the young worker as very interesting how the dry years were changing people in very different ways.

That was many years ago, of course.

The drought finally gave way to good rain again in spring and summer, and to deep snow through the winter months. The land was reborn and became green again. So unbelievably green everywhere. Wild flowers bloomed on the hills and in the mountains that had not been seen for many years. Soon many folks forgot all about the years of hard drought.

But some did not. The people who were most bitter had already left before the rains came again, going back to whatever place they had come from. And they took their bitter memories with them.

Others, however, had already taken hold of a new hope, somehow, even before the rains returned. And when the good years finally did come, these people celebrated every abundant harvest with a genuine spirit of thanksgiving. They praised the God of heaven and earth for sparing them during the terrible dry years.

And they brought gifts every year to the good son who had sustained them during the bitterest years. He joyfully accepted each gift, and then shared the gifts with all the families who still lived within his boundaries. Then everyone gathered in feasting and dancing that would last for a whole week.

More years went by and the time finally came for the son to take charge of all his father’s other lands, and so he left to visit them, and to manage the whole estate. By this time the youngest worker had grown into a mature worker. And this faithful man was now put in charge of the whole property, to manage it and care for it.

“I always reward those who do well,” the son told his new manager. “You were faithful to do all that I gave you to do, even when it was difficult and dangerous. And so, because you were faithful in the smaller things, I now give you a much greater work to do. You will have charge of all this land. And you will always answer only to me.”

The faithful worker thought about this for a moment.

“I already know what I want to do first,” he said. “Now that we have railroads nearby, I will market our potatoes to the whole nation. They grow well here, but the people here want to eat something besides potatoes. We will ship our potatoes back east, and to the south, and to the west. The money they bring in will be used to buy other things that must be shipped in from far away.”

The good son just laughed. He knew that the faithful worker had probably spent many hours thinking about what to do with all those potatoes — especially if there should ever be another long hard drought as he had already experienced. He gave the new manager a slap on the back, and together they walked outside.

 



The Scripture says:
"His lord said to him, 'Well done, good and faithful servant; you have been faithful over a few things, I will make you ruler over many things. Enter into the joy of your lord.... ...For to everyone who has, more will be given, and he will have abundance; but from him who does not have, even what he has will be taken away.'"

—  from Matthew 25:23,29

 

©2004 Jim Sutton

 

 
       

 

 

 

 
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This page last edited 01/31/07

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