But for the Grace of God

I had the distinct privilege to address the annual meeting of the Manitoba Farmers with Disabilities. Although I had had the chance to work side by side with them at various trade shows, them in their booth and I in the Manitoba Farm and Rural Support Services booth, I had not met many of them. As I drove to the meeting, on a crisp spring morning, I reflected on my experiences on the farm. Interesting how different, minor accidents popped to mind. Experiences I thought I had forgotten. Like the time I used a screwdriver to direct start a tractor. (Many of you know what I mean.) The tractor was in gear and began moving forward. Lucky for me it was in a low gear and moved quite slowly. Or the time I was using a Bobcat. I had overfilled the bucket, drove over a small hill, the Bobcat’s back end came up and I went flying out of the seat. Never buckled myself in, never mind the fact that we had removed the safety cage. Or the time I climbed into a manure pit to retrieve something. These are but a few incidences I recall. All of us have heard of farmers dying or becoming seriously injured in incidences similar to the ones I just mentioned. Many of us take risks that, if gone wrong, could kill or maim.

As I observed the participants in the meeting I recalled the saying, “but for the grace of God there go I”. Certainly a stark reminder of what can happen. What impressed me was the resilience of these people. They have had to make tremendous adjustments to carry on with life. Many of them are still active farmers. They have adapted. I was wondering whether I would have had the fortitude to carry on had I lost a limb or the use of other important body parts. Not only that, the participants showed a real sense of humour. They used humour. They joked. Everybody laughed when the chairperson called for a vote on a motion, asking people to raise their right hands, hesitated for a second, and then said raising their right hook also counted. In my preparation I came across a picture, posted at a gas station, which advertised gas at costing an arm and a leg. I heard laughter when the slide came up. Only after I left the meeting did I realize the implications of that picture and the audience I was speaking to. (Think Friesen, think)

After the meeting I decided to go hit some golf balls. Irony of all ironies the gentleman hitting balls next to me had only one arm. I was mesmerized by the way he was able to swing a club and make solid contact shot after shot. You can well imagine, knowing what an avid golfer I am, I had wondered that morning how amputees could farm, never mind enjoy a sport such as golf. It was unfolding right in front of me. What an awesome lesson I learned. Things happen. Things go wrong. Sometimes we wonder how we can go on. But we do. We find a way. Make it a good one. Make it a safe one.