Abide With Me

The sky was troubled tonight. It was shooting red SOS flares on both the east and the west of the house. The winds kept shifting. There was no sound of birds. We had a period of mixed snow-sleet-rain, which stung the baby calves' little faces.

The Good Rancher is out doing whatever GRs have to do at 10 at night to ensure the cattle are cared for. My wont is to spend this solitary evening hour imagining all the accidents that could befall him. 

Even the five dogs are restive tonight. 

It feels pretty lonely all of a sudden. The enormity of the pain of our stricken world is bearing down on me mightily.

Yesterday we received the shocking news that our friend Cyril had had a heart attack and had died. Not Covid 19. Not hit by a bus. 

Heart attack. 

Try though I might, I cannot batten down all the hatches; none of us can. 

This is what his wife, Lois, wrote on Facebook:

"It is with broken hearts that we share that Cyril, my loving husband, a devoted father and awesome Grandpa had a heart attack and passed into eternity this morning and is now with His Lord & Saviour Jesus Christ.  Words cannot express the grief we are experiencing right now but God continues to pour out His grace on us.  'We are confident yes, well pleased rather to be absent from the body and to be present with the Lord' 2 Corinthians 5:8.  Cyril could not get through a song or passage of Scripture that spoke of seeing Jesus face to face without weeping. He isn't weeping any more.... 'And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes, there shall be no more death, nor sorrow nor crying.'  Revelation 21:4"
And it is into this anguished evening that You speak reassurance to me; You anchor my thoughts through the words of the old hymn, as sung in all its plaintive victory by the King's College Choir, Cambridge - Abide with Me:

You will ALWAYS abide with me.

Her First Calf

Yesterday morning I had the enormous privilege of seeing Sadie give birth to her first baby.

This is not the first birth I have witnessed; but for each heifer, it is the first time they have delivered a calf and you never know how it could turn out. Just about a week ago we saw little Brownie's mother abandon her immediately after the birth and then turn on her violently when the Good Rancher tried to get them to bond.

What made this particular birth of even greater interest to me is that Sadie is the offspring of Sage, my very first bottle calf. The GR - seeing how attached I was to Sage - allowed him not to be turned into a steer; the result has been some pretty amazing calves!

But because of the connection, my heart pounded a little bit harder and my throat tightened, and words failed me as I watched this little scrap of cuteness slide out of his mother and into the big world.

Fortunately for occasions like this, there is Wendell Berry. No one describes the birth of a heifer's first calf like Wendell Berry. No one.

This poem has become one of my favourites, and certainly my very top one for this time of year. 

(Pictures and videos of Sadie and baby after the poem.)

Her First Calf

Her fate seizes her and brings her

down. She's heavy with it. It

wrings her. The great weight

is heaved out of her. It eases.

She moves into what she has become,

sure in her fate now

as a fish free in the current.

She turns to the calf who has broken

out of the womb's water and its veil.

He breathes. She licks his wet hair.

He gathers his legs under him

and rises. He stands, and his legs

wobble. After the months

of his pursuit of her, now

they meet face to face.

From the beginnings of the world

his arrival and her welcome

have been prepared. They have always

known each other.

Wendell Berry, "Her First Calf," in The Country of Marriage (Berkley: Counterpoint, 2013), p. 11.

Sadie lay like this for about three hours.

I was beginning to get anxious...

I didn't capture the birth itself because when I went to check, the baby's head, smothered in grey membrane, was all I could see. No little front feet leading the way ... The baby plopped out and Sadie didn't move. The GR's voice was in my ear as I gave him updates, saying that I had to get in there and pull away the membrane or the calf would die in seconds. I ran up to the pair, and that was all it took for Sadie to remember what she was supposed to be doing. Besides which, a mother is entitled to just a moment right after giving birth, isn't she?! (Background sound in the videos is the brisk wind. But worth having the sound on to hear Sadie talking to her baby...) 

Literally seven seconds after
 the baby was born

After about 10 solid minutes of licking her baby clean, 
she pushes him to his feet... 

So close... 

A little rest and a murmur of encouragement

Success at last! 

The thing that moved me beyond words was this: once the calf was able to stand by himself, Sadie stopped her licking and pushing and talking and stood very quietly, allowing him to get to know her:

I checked on them again in the evening, and I could feel the deep connection they already had forged. Sadie had remained with her baby even during the feeding time, and the baby had been up and nursing. He was steady on his feet. And he loves his mum!

“They have always known each other."

Corona

This week. News reports eager to update us incessantly on new cases, rising death tolls, lost jobs, empty grocery shelves, restrictions on travel, restrictions on livelihoods, restrictions on freedoms. 

There are varying schools of thought presented, of course, as to the efficacy of treatment plans, the necessity of preventive measures, the degree of separation required, from quarantine to self isolation to social distancing.

So I am trying to do my part, from remaining largely at home to washing hands till they are raw to helping out where I can. 

This week. Very similar to last week, except that this week started with Palm Sunday and ended yesterday, Resurrection Sunday.

This is how I had envisioned Passion Week, as it is known, unfolding:

On Palm Sunday the Church at Endiang was due to have a service and the songs, story and teaching would reflect the triumphal yet humble entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, mounted on a young donkey.

(Credit: Brian Jekel)

Resurrection Sunday was all planned too: Allan and Angie were going to lead a special Easter song service, Susanne would have told a story, Pastor Allan would have reminded us that this is what the entire Christian faith hangs on - the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ, providing the way for us all to be forgiven of our sins and to have a personal relationship with God our heavenly father.

We had even distributed posters to be hung, and a few of the invitation cards had gone out:

And then, Corona. 

About ten days ago, the most beautiful calf was born. His mother, a large, placid Belted Galloway cow, released her baby to the world almost reluctantly. 

He is white, except for two sort of jet black circles of hair, one around his neck and the other around his hips.

I named him Corona. 

I remember the first time I had ever heard the word Corona. Mum called me outside: "Come quickly! We are in an eclipse! Look at the sun's corona! "

The sun looked like it was blotted out; the only way I could tell its form was that it was outlined with a shimmering halo, making it magical, fearful to a child.

"Why is it so dark? Is the sun dead? Will it be like that forever?" I asked my mother anxiously.

"Oh no - keep watching; the moon is blocking the light of the sun!" she replied cheerily; and of course, she was right. The axis of my world righted itself before too long and the dark unsettledness lifted. "As long as you can see the corona, you know the sun is still there," she reassured me as we walked back into the house.

The moon - who has no light source of its own apart from the sun - was blocking the sun? And the sun let it?!

I loved the word Corona from then on. It signified beauty, mystery, humility, royalty, something to be treasured and stored in the box of memories I keep tucked away in my heart. It was a promise that the sun was still there, that its light and warmth would return.    

I have spent long moments observing baby Corona. He is so, so white, for one thing! His mum and he love each other dearly. 

He practises social distancing, at least part of the time. 

And wherever he moves in the pen, it seems like the light follows him.

I showed my friend Ivy pictures of Corona and she exclaimed at his markings. She told me this: In days gone by, when a mother cow lost her calf and you had a calf that needed a mother, you would skin the poor dead little calf and place its hide over the orphan calf. The mother would smell her baby and because of that would accept the new little calf as her own. That's what your Corona looks like ...

Maybe it's because it's Easter in the time of Corona, but of course I thought of Jesus and His ultimate sacrifice: He freely gave up His life in order to bring us to God. Like the little dead calves of that earlier era, He is the go-between between God and us, the link between death and life. Because of His death we can approach God. And God, recognising His son's broken body, forgives us our sins and accepts us as His child if we will just ask Him to.

A brutal corona was crammed viciously on Jesus' head shortly before He was taken out to be crucified. A crown of thorns:

"The Crucified One" by C. Michael Dudash

The Bible tells us that as He hung on the cross darkness fell upon the land, the forces of evil trying one last time to extinguish the Son.

But Resurrection Sunday showed that at the other side of the darkness, the light of the world was not extinguished!

(Artist unknown)

So in this age of Corona, in the isolation, the not-knowing and the fear - for life and for liberty - don't lose hope. Remember, Corona is the light encompassing the darkness. This darkness will pass. Trust in the One who endured the greatest darkness of all and emerged triumphant on the other side.

Wash your hands.

Be kind one to another.

And let your light shine!

Shrove Tuesday

The Church at Endiang wanted to do something for our community this winter. Specifically, we wanted an event that would support a good cause and that would bring the community together. 

What better than a Shrove Tuesday pancake supper at our Endiang Hall? And as for the good cause, we turned to our extraordinary principal of the Byemoor School, Gwen Keith. 

After consulting with her fellow staff members, Principal Keith reported back that the school's gym and phys ed equipment was in a bit of a sorry state; maybe we could raise funds for that? 

The Church at Endiang put up some posts and posters; the announcement was added into the school newsletter; our Councillor, Les Stulberg, wrote about it in his weekly newspaper column; and people spread the word. Joyce — the proprietor of the Byemoor restaurant and bar, our favourite place for chicken strips and pizza — even set aside her plans for a Shrove supper to help out the kids' cause! 

I was worried, of course: what if we didn't have enough food? Enough help? What if this razor-thin economy meant people couldn't support the school? 

WHAT IF NO ONE SHOWED UP? 

Of course, we had lots of volunteers... And the sausages, eggs, fruit salad, strawberries and cream were bountiful... And ELEVEN kids (and three moms, plus a couple more and Principal Keith) from our tiny school signed up to help... And the grill was primed and ready to go just before 5 o'clock, just as Brittiany and her gang came in, the first guests of a wonderful evening... 

They say that one picture is worth a thousand words, so I will shut up and let the pictures do the talking:

(I am so sorry to report that while I was trying to transfer kid pictures, I managed to delete them entirely... But Cash, Kord, Jos, Ryder, Bronc, Colter, Dustee, Abbi, Felix, Ava, Briar, Charlee and the other students who served — you were EXCELLENT, and you were GREAT ambassadors for your school!) 

Now for the part we were all waiting for. The greeters tallied how many people came for supper, and the money counters counted the money. 

Drum roll, please... 

124 people! And I am not sure if that included kitchen staff or not!! 

Then Stephen, whose own dad used to be a pastor at the old Endiang church way back, called over Principal Keith to present her with the offering for the school gym equipment fund. 

Can you read her face? ... 

Can you believe $2,798???!!! 

Someone threw in a toonie to bring it up to an even

$2,800

THANK YOU EVERYONE who came, who worked, who ate, who cleaned up, who gave. Some of our friends from Hanna Alliance Church who couldn't even attend gave. People from Endiang, Byemoor, Hanna, Scappa, Big Valley, Craigmyle, Delia, Red Deer (!!) gave. Someone who wanted to honour his son, who had attended the school back in the day, gave $20 per kid who worked. People who don't even have kids in school, or in this school, gave. Grammas and Grampas gave. Mums and Dads and Uncles and Aunties and friends and neighbours gave. 

Principal Keith summed it up the best, in words that went something like this: "Thank you to the Church at Endiang for sponsoring this event. I am overwhelmed by the size of the donation, and by the people who turned out, and I am so proud of the kids who worked. But the best part of all was the community spirit in here tonight — everyone talking and laughing and coming together..." 

We are all so proud of you, Principal Keith and staff, and the 33+ kids who comprise our small but great school. 

And we LOVE our community! Thank you, God, for giving us each other. 

The worst job of the night, but look at that smile...