Daddy tilled the lot beside our house
With a horse and plow each year.
A full day’s work, that plowing was
With rocks making it hard to steer.
We worked from daybreak until dark
When planting time came around,
With Daddy watching the moon’s phase
To put seed in the ground.
My brother shoveled, I dropped seeds,
Momma covered them up behind.
We all spread out and all worked hard
On the family assembly line.
We worked the field all summer long,
Knowing the harvest we would reap.
Momma froze and canned garden food
So that year-round, we could eat.
We sat outside on the porch at night,
To string and break green beans,
While Daddy sang the mountain ballads
We would hum along and sing.
We labored for the food we ate,
Working as hard as we all could . . .
And no food on earth to this very day
Ever tasted quite as good.
Copyright © 2006 by moleta ruth mccarter. all rights reserved.
