Roll farms
Spot Master
I copy/ pasted this from one of the groups I belong to....this story STILL brings a tear to my eye, and I read it somewhere every Christmas...
> GIFT OF THE OLD ONE
> By Eunice Day, Washington ME
>
>
>
> The young couple had made their usual hurried, pre-Christmas visit to
> the little farm where dwelt their elderly parents with their small herd of
> goats. The farm had been named Lone Pine Farm because of the huge pine
> which topped the hill behind the farm, and through the years had become a
> talisman to the old man and his wife, and a landmark in the countryside.
>
> The old folks no longer showed their goats, for the years had taken
> their toll, but they sold a little milk, and a few kids each year, and the
> goats were their reason for joy in the morning and contentment at day's
> end.
>
> Crossly, as they prepared to leave, the young couple confronted the
> old folks. "Why do you not at least dispose of "The Old One". She is no
> longer of use to you. It's been years since you've had either kids or milk
> from her. You should cut corners and save where you can. Why do you keep
> her anyway?" The old man looked down as his worn boot scuffed at the barn
> floor and his arm stole defensively about the Old One's neck as he drew
> her to him and rubbed her gently behind the ears. He replied softly, "We
> keep her because of love. Only because of love."
>
> Baffled and irritated, the young folks wished the old man and his
> wife a Merry Christmas and headed back toward the city as darkness stole
> through the valley.
>
> So it was, that because of the leave-taking, no one noticed the
> insulation smouldering on the frayed wires in the old barn. None saw the
> first spark fall. None but the "Old One".
>
> In a matter of minutes, the whole barn was ablaze and the hungry
> flames were licking at the loft full of hay. With a cry of horror and
> despair, the old man shouted to his wife to call for help as he raced to
> the barn to save their beloved goats. But the flames were roaring now, and
> the blazing heat drove him back. He sank sobbing to the ground, helpless
> before the fire's fury.
>
> By the time the fire department arrived, only smoking, glowing ruins
> were left, and the old man and his wife. They thanked those who had come
> to their aid, and the old man turned to his wife, resting her white head
> upon his shoulders as he clumsily dried her tears with a frayed red
> bandana. Brokenly he whispered, "We have lost much, but God has spared our
> home on this eve of Christmas. Let us, therefore, climb the hill to the
> old pine where we have sought comfort in times of despair. We will look
> down upon our home and give thanks to God that it has been spared."
>
> And so, he took her by the hand and helped her up the snowy hill as
> he brushed aside his own tears with the back of his hand. As they stepped
> over the little knoll at the crest of the hill, they looked up and gasped
> in amazement at the incredible beauty before them. Seemingly, every
> glorious, brilliant star in the heavens was caught up in the glittering,
> snow-frosted branches of their beloved pine, and it was aglow with
> heavenly candles. And poised on its top most bough, a crystal crescent
> moon glistened like spun glass. Never had a mere mortal created a
> Christmas tree such as this. Suddenly, the old man gave a cry of wonder
> and incredible joy as he pulled his wife forward. There, beneath the tree,
> was their Christmas gift.
>
> Bedded down about the "Old One" close to the truck of the tree, was
> the entire herd, safe. At the first hint of smoke, she had pushed the door
> ajar with her muzzle and had led the goats through it. Slowly and with
> great dignity, never looking back, she had led them up the hill, stepping
> daintily through the snow. The kids were frightened and dashed about. The
> skittish yearlings looked back at the crackling, hungry flames, and tucked
> their tails under them as they licked their lips and hopped like rabbits.
> The milkers pressed uneasily against the "Old One" as she moved calmly up
> the hill and to safety beneath the pine. And now, she lay among them and
> gazed at the faces of those she loved. Her body was brittle with years,
> but the golden eyes were filled with devotion as she offered her
> gift-Because of love.
>
>
> Only Because of love.
> GIFT OF THE OLD ONE
> By Eunice Day, Washington ME
>
>
>
> The young couple had made their usual hurried, pre-Christmas visit to
> the little farm where dwelt their elderly parents with their small herd of
> goats. The farm had been named Lone Pine Farm because of the huge pine
> which topped the hill behind the farm, and through the years had become a
> talisman to the old man and his wife, and a landmark in the countryside.
>
> The old folks no longer showed their goats, for the years had taken
> their toll, but they sold a little milk, and a few kids each year, and the
> goats were their reason for joy in the morning and contentment at day's
> end.
>
> Crossly, as they prepared to leave, the young couple confronted the
> old folks. "Why do you not at least dispose of "The Old One". She is no
> longer of use to you. It's been years since you've had either kids or milk
> from her. You should cut corners and save where you can. Why do you keep
> her anyway?" The old man looked down as his worn boot scuffed at the barn
> floor and his arm stole defensively about the Old One's neck as he drew
> her to him and rubbed her gently behind the ears. He replied softly, "We
> keep her because of love. Only because of love."
>
> Baffled and irritated, the young folks wished the old man and his
> wife a Merry Christmas and headed back toward the city as darkness stole
> through the valley.
>
> So it was, that because of the leave-taking, no one noticed the
> insulation smouldering on the frayed wires in the old barn. None saw the
> first spark fall. None but the "Old One".
>
> In a matter of minutes, the whole barn was ablaze and the hungry
> flames were licking at the loft full of hay. With a cry of horror and
> despair, the old man shouted to his wife to call for help as he raced to
> the barn to save their beloved goats. But the flames were roaring now, and
> the blazing heat drove him back. He sank sobbing to the ground, helpless
> before the fire's fury.
>
> By the time the fire department arrived, only smoking, glowing ruins
> were left, and the old man and his wife. They thanked those who had come
> to their aid, and the old man turned to his wife, resting her white head
> upon his shoulders as he clumsily dried her tears with a frayed red
> bandana. Brokenly he whispered, "We have lost much, but God has spared our
> home on this eve of Christmas. Let us, therefore, climb the hill to the
> old pine where we have sought comfort in times of despair. We will look
> down upon our home and give thanks to God that it has been spared."
>
> And so, he took her by the hand and helped her up the snowy hill as
> he brushed aside his own tears with the back of his hand. As they stepped
> over the little knoll at the crest of the hill, they looked up and gasped
> in amazement at the incredible beauty before them. Seemingly, every
> glorious, brilliant star in the heavens was caught up in the glittering,
> snow-frosted branches of their beloved pine, and it was aglow with
> heavenly candles. And poised on its top most bough, a crystal crescent
> moon glistened like spun glass. Never had a mere mortal created a
> Christmas tree such as this. Suddenly, the old man gave a cry of wonder
> and incredible joy as he pulled his wife forward. There, beneath the tree,
> was their Christmas gift.
>
> Bedded down about the "Old One" close to the truck of the tree, was
> the entire herd, safe. At the first hint of smoke, she had pushed the door
> ajar with her muzzle and had led the goats through it. Slowly and with
> great dignity, never looking back, she had led them up the hill, stepping
> daintily through the snow. The kids were frightened and dashed about. The
> skittish yearlings looked back at the crackling, hungry flames, and tucked
> their tails under them as they licked their lips and hopped like rabbits.
> The milkers pressed uneasily against the "Old One" as she moved calmly up
> the hill and to safety beneath the pine. And now, she lay among them and
> gazed at the faces of those she loved. Her body was brittle with years,
> but the golden eyes were filled with devotion as she offered her
> gift-Because of love.
>
>
> Only Because of love.
OK I read it to my self and was alright, then I shared it with my family and couldn't get through it with out bawling out loud!!
