I clearly remember the day that I decided to become a farmer. We were helping some friends bale their hay into square bales. It was an all day job. The wife of the farmer we were helping told her kids they should go do their chores, so I went with them to help. The kids soon finished and went to go wash up for supper or something-I don’t remember what they were doing exactly-and the grown-ups were finishing baling the hay. I had a moment to myself and I was scratching the chin of a little black goat with floppy ears that belonged to their oldest child.
Now to back track a little bit, I had not grown up on a farm, I had moved to our farm with my family when I was thirteen. And I had been struggling to settle down. I wasn’t sure if I was a farm girl or even if it was something in my heart that I wanted to be. Added to the fact that now I was sixteen and I had a crush on a farm boy who did not like me nor wanted anything to do with me romantically, I was wondering if I had only wanted to do it because of him or if it was really something I personally wanted to do. All this was tumbling around in my head as I scratched the chin of the little black goat.
I remember standing up from petting the goat and beholding a beautiful sunset. As I stood enjoying the sunset and our friend’s beautiful farm in the golden light while listening to the gentle baa’s of the goats, a sense of peace filled my heart and I knew that I loved farming and that everything was going to be okay regardless of what happened with the young farmer, and that I really wanted to do this for my sake and not just to please someone else. Needless to say that young farmer is no longer a part of my life; he moved on and so did I. Now I am twenty and still farming strong. I am very glad that I decided to do it for myself and that I truly love it.