Each spring our grass groans and stretches like an old dog waking from a long nap. At first it’s not sure what to wear…whether to face the warm sun in its muted browns and tans or to break out the vivid limes and lush greens. But soon it determines it would be embarrassed to put on anything other than its best velvet dress. Besides it knows soon it will be scattered with the eye popping yellows of dandelions and daffodils.
Marilyn and I live with her dad who at 88 still does all the mowing (yea, I know, how lucky can one guy be). Even though I seldom mow our acre of grass, I still catch ‘”new mower fever” each spring. Our next door neighbor works for a landscaping company and on regular basis test pilots new mowing equipment.
I sit on our patio and cheer, as he flies by like the Red Baron buzzing Snoopy, leaning forward for maximum velocity while the new, razor-sharp blades effortlessly spray rooster tails of grass. Then I hear the sputter of an old International Cub and turn to see my father in law putt by on the only yard tractor that’s ever mowed our yard in its 40 year history.
It was a respectable yard tractor in its day, but now its sixty inch mower deck rattles and creeks—having been welded back together more times than I’ve been on diets. It’s identifying decals have long since faded to white and its turf tires are checked with age. There is so much free play in the steering mechanism, it’s like reigning in a dashing horse. He sits on a stash of wrenches and pliers regularly needed to keep it running. When it is running, it mows fine. But then some days, it just decides it ain’t going another inch and chunks it in the middle of the yard. That’s where I come in. I’m the mash surgeon for the ol’ girl. “Let’s check the points…hmmm…maybe it’s the carburetor…there, try it!” Some weeks it sits for several days before we get the problem isolated and repaired.
Marilyn and I have repeatedly failed to convince him it’s time to retire the old tractor—put it out to pasture. He just looks sideways at us and says with sincere conviction, “There’s nothing wrong with that mower it just needs a little attention once in a while.” And he’s right, for the most part. It often mows two weeks in a row before breaking down again.
A couple years back I was determined to purchase a new mower. I reasoned, “After he mows with it a few times, he’ll love it.”
But then, Marilyn and I put our heads together and thought better of that idea.
We considered why he preferred his old mower over a fast, efficient and dependable new mower. Money wasn’t the problem. It must be something more important than dollars. Finally as we discussed the history of the mower the answer became obvious. I was embarrassed when I realized how insensitive I had been regarding the old mower.
Wayne and Naomi built the house in which we now live over 40 years ago. When they moved into their new home they were middle-aged and perfectly healthy. One of the first major purchases was the yard tractor.
Marilyn’s mom, Naomi, was the quintessential farmer’s wife and while Wayne worked the fields, she mowed the grass atop their brand new International Harvester Cub Cadet. Thirty years later, Naomi was diagnosed with cancer and several years after that, she was gone. We still miss her terribly. There remains only a few things at this house that are distinctly Naomi.
When I thought back on the history of her dad and all that’s dear to him, I was embarrassed to think how insensitive I was to believe he would be happy with any other mower. I realized some things are just worth hanging onto.
“The grass withers and the wildflowers fade, but our God’s Word stands firm and forever.”
Isaiah 40:8
Read Ron’s column, Simple Faith, each Saturday on the Faith Page (page 3) of the Lancaster Eagle Gazette, or visit www.lancastereaglegazette.com.