“Every wall is a door.” - Ralph Waldo Emerson
In my book CHANGED LIVES, the chapter called "Choice at the Crossroads" talks about my early years. It is those times of your life that tend to form the 'first' you. These early years will cement much of who you are.
We each have to learn where we came from in order to better understand who we are today. With that knowledge, we can better make choices that will allow us to change.
We each have to learn where we came from in order to better understand who we are today. With that knowledge, we can better make choices that will allow us to change.
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It was during these formative years that I developed the ‘good son’ mentality. Do what was told of you, do it to your best and then do it even better. Being raised on a farm in eastern Nebraska allowed one to work hard as well. It was not always easy, but there are no complaints when one doesn’t know anything different.
My father had a depression era view on many things. Save as much money as you can, reuse as much as you can and old stuff can be considered new if you are seeing it for the first time. Take old oak doors for instance, the old heavy ones that you rarely find these days.
There can be many uses for these doors if you put your mind to good use. On our small farm we raised hogs, the type that end up in the grocery store and on the dinner table. If you look at pictures of them in story books, they are cute and seemingly cuddly. To raise them is a different story and is a lot of work.
There are days that require you to divide them up, some for fattening, and others for market. The process can be quite challenging and it was the oak doors we used. An oak door with door knobs intact makes a great way to separate hogs. These doors are also quite heavy for a young boy that didn’t have the physique of a football player.
We would find these doors at the old trash dumping location near our hometown. This dump was a ravine, back again during those times before much stricter regulations. That which we could not burn was taken to this dump.
Most times we returned with more then we took. This is the ‘new stuff’ I referred to earlier. My father had a great ‘eye’ for things that could be potentially used on our farm. He could spot an old oak door many yards away. One such day he found one laying about half way down the ravine. All we had to do was climb down, attach a rope and pull it back up. I was the available son and was instructed to ensure that I tied up to it securely.
So down I went....
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What things stick in your mind, that form much of your thought process today? Tomorrow, pieces of other lives.
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