Hauling Wood

The other week my good friend Cal and his wife drove over a load of wood for our future firepit. The kids got out the wheelbarrow and we all worked at stacking it behind the shed and then covering it to keep out the rain and (eventually) snow. Doing this took me back to the farm and hauling wood during the winter. If my sister and I didn't haul the wood in everyday, our house wouldn't be heated. On the farm, we had two wood stoves for heat and they needed new fuel daily. It didn't occur to me how important our job was then-- it was just something we did to contribute to the family-- and it kept us busy, which was a good thing!

Watching my sons move wood with their arms and sometimes a wheelbarrow gave me a glimpse of what it would have been like for my parents to see Kati and me endeavoring to get the job done. Hauling wood gives one an immediate sense of accomplishment; you can see what you have done in a tangible way. We are "only" going to use our firewood for entertainment purposes, not as a necessity, but we will all feel again that sense of accomplishment when we are able to put a fire together and know we had a hand in taking care of the resources we will use.

The most credit, of course, should go to my friend Cal. Hauling the wood is no comparison to finding it, cutting it down and splitting it. Which makes me think about all of the work that my dad put in to making sure we had what we needed. He made our job easy-- for all the grumbling we may have done on cold winter days about carrying wood, we were not responsible for getting it ready to carry. My dad was the kind of man who did what needed doing. He never once referred to all of the time and effort in the hot days and the cold days that he put in getting that wood ready. He was a man who didn't need proof from others about his worth; he created his own worth-- with his own hands.