166 animal, vegetable, miracle
whose house stood just beyond David’s cornfi eld. As we stayed into eve-
ning, conversation on the porch debated the most productive pasture-
grass rotations for cattle; out in the yard it was mostly about whose turn it
was for the tire swing.
Many months later when I described this visit to a friend, he asked
acerbically, “What, not even a mosquito to bother heaven?” (He also men-
tioned the name Andy Griffith.) Probably there were mosquitoes. I don’t
remember. I do know this family has borne losses and grief, just like the
rest of us. But if they are generally content, must such a life inevitably be
dismissed as mythical, or else merely quaint? Urban people may be al-
lowed success, satisfaction, and consequence, all at once. Members of
David and Elsie’s extended family share work they love, and impressive
productivity. They are by no means affluent, but seem comfortable with
their material lot, and more importantly—for farmers—are not torn by
debt or drained by long commutes to off- the-farm jobs. They work long
hours, but value a life that allows them to sit down to a midday lunch with
family, or stand outside the barn after the evening milking and watch
swallows come in to roost.
They belong to a surprisingly healthy community of similar small
farms. Undoubtedly, some people in the neighborhood have their ludi-
crous grudges, their problem children, their disputed fencelines; they are
human. But they are prospering modestly by growing food. At a vegetable
auction in town, farmers sell their produce wholesale to restaurants and
regional grocery chains. Nothing travels very far. The farmers fare well on
the prices, and buyers are pleased with the variety and quality, starting
with bedding plants in May, proceeding through all the vegetables, end-
ing with October pumpkins and apples. The nearby food co-op sells lo-
cally made cheeses, affordably priced. The hardware store sells pressure
canners and well- made tools, not mechanical singing fi sh.
It sounds like a community type that went extinct a generation ago.
But it didn’t, not completely. If a self- sufficient farming community has
survived here, it remains a possibility elsewhere. The success of this one
seemed to hinge on many things, including steady work, material thrift,
flexibility, modest expectations, and careful avoidance of debt—but not
including miracles, as far as I could see. Unless, of course, we live in a