A farmer’s a mixture of faith and toil,
Who labors long to work the soil.
He sows the wheat and oats and corn,
To raise the crops for which he’s born.
To plant and care for tenderly.
He plans it all so carefully.

The wheat ripples like sea of jade
As it grows there in the sun and shade
Turning to golden amber there
To ripple softly in beauty fair.
To him it is the fairest ‘gold’,
As the farmer hopes it can be sold.

He works from dawn to darkened sky
To raise the food for you and I.
He loves his work, and doesn’t care
If he is tired and sun does glare.
He knows that God is always near;
He sees the evidence so clear.

His faith is strong and will remain
Through ice and snow and sleet and rain.
When lean times come, he hopes again
That, soon, he won’t have worked in vain.
He knows that God, in His own way,
Will give him strength to face each day.

Tessie Bea McCall