I Know What Love Is
By Vicki Smith
PROMPT — What is Love?
How do I know? Because I experienced it. I felt it in my aunt’s warm touch as she rubbed my back. I saw its light in my grandfather’s eyes as he said goodbye to me for the last time. From my grandmother's selfless work, to preparing the best food I have ever eaten, to the warm soil I walked through in the fields to find adventure in the ‘bush’, I knew what love was and I never wanted to leave it. But I had to. I could only be on the farm for three months of the year. The good news is, I had the experience and nothing could ever take that away.
Love is sacrifice and giving. That was evident every day. Love was the order for whatever was happening.
One night we had sweet corn for supper. It was just my aunt, my grandmother, my sister, and I seated at the kitchen table. This was unusual intimacy because there was usually a kitchen full. Oma cooked a whole bushel of freshly picked corn. It was so tender, we couldn't eat enough but my aunt won with eleven ears! Fun! Love!
My grandfather had 20 acres of greenhouses filled with roses, daisies, carnations, and mums. We adored the greenhouses. We picked, packed and stored the beautiful flowers in the huge walk-in cooler. The greenhouses were filled with pipes for watering, fertilizing and keeping the flowers warm in the wintertime. My brother had the unforgettable experience of cleaning out the steam boiler that kept the greenhouses warm in the winter. He opened the big iron door to crawl inside and he came out covered in black soot! Fun! Love!
I was allowed to drive the tractor to a nearby farm and with some other workers pick up the hay and stack it high on the trailer and then drive it back to the farm. What fun! It was hot and the hay was picky, but I was driving! And the boys were cute and my sister and I were the only girls. Well, you get the picture. What an adventure for me.
So many memories, so much fun, so much love! I heard the other day that a person learns better if he knows he is loved. If he is in an atmosphere of love and fun he gains confidence. I saw love reflected in everything that happened on the farm, that’s why my time at the farm was so unforgettable. I learned what love was all about.
I can never forget the feel of my grandfather’s hands. They were soft, big and gentle. His touch was pure. I knew those hands had never touched anything unclean or evil. I loved him because I knew he was kind and loving. He didn’t say much to me but I will always remember him and his friends and family members sitting around the living room, talking about the old country and the politics of the new country. His voice was never harsh or loud or boisterous. My grandmother didn’t say much either. Their actions spoke louder than their words and they were the portrait of love. I write about them because their life had such a profound impact on me.
Vicki Smith has been writing for three years. She writes about her experiences from childhood through adulthood. Perhaps you will relate to her in your own experiences. She writes from a Christian perspective which offers her readers hope and encouragement. Vicki writes from Livingston, Montana.
