Today is Tuesday, July 5th, 2005; Karen's Korner #582

This is a Chicken Soup for the Soul which I received about a year ago; appropriate as our corn continues to grow and mature. It makes me think about a couple of age-old sayings: "seeing is believing"; "don't worry about anything"; "faith is........":
 
Tall Corn
By Gary Carter

Jim Carlton sat by his kitchen window.  He gazed across the hot afternoon at the corn that grew like a rising hedge around his single-story Iowa farmhouse.  This year's crop had jumped up tall and early.  Now, only the corn that crowded around the edge of the home site was visible from the house.

His wife, Sue, stood at the sink washing fresh-picked carrots with a dribble of cold water.  She eyed the sky uneasily as she worked, willing a cloud to appear.  It had been twenty-seven days since the last rainfall, and that, to use Jim's words, had been hardly enough to knock the fuzz off a dandelion.

Jim sighed, looking at the blank, blue sky.  "It's been too long.  We're going to start losing corn pretty soon.  And there's not a dang thing anyone can do about it except look for clouds and watch the leaves go soft..." He paused.  "But then, I guess worrying doesn't help any.  Just makes you see things worse than they really are."

Sue Carlton, a strong-looking woman in her early forties, set the carrots in the sink and dried her hands.  She walked over to her husband who sat in a wheelchair, one leg extended forward.  A month ago, Jim had been repairing the roof of the barn when a board gave way.  Along with shattered bones, the X rays had shown damage to his spine.  Just how much damage, and whether Jim would ever walk again, the doctors couldn't yet say.

Sue perched on the arm of a chair and stroked the side of Jim's neck.  "I reckon you're right about worrying," she said.  She looked down at him.  "Sometimes I think the drought's harder on the farmers than it is on the crops."

She looked out the window at her garden.  They had talked about letting part of the vegetable garden go dry, or selling some of the animals, but so far there seemed to be enough well water for their own use.  There just wasn't enough for three hundred acres of corn.

She bent down and kissed his head.  "We'll be okay," she said quietly.

The days rolled on and on, same after same like crystal-clear beads on a string; early heat, dry winds and spotless skies of beautiful heartbreaking blue.  Leaf edges began to brown and curl on the corn that hedged the Carltons' yard.

One day in mid-July, Jim called to his wife as she came in from the garden.  He told her he had just been on the phone with their neighbor Pappy Dickson.  Pappy's crop was failing; he couldn't see any ears at all and even the stalks were turning brown.

"Pappy says he's going to start plowing his corn under if it doesn't rain by the end of the week," Jim said in a worried voice.

"Plowing it in?" Sue stared at Jim.

"Sounds like it.  I think the worry must be getting to him. What he says is impossible.  We all planted the same seed at about the same time, and it looks to me like the corn's holding up pretty good."

A few days later, Sue returned from a trip to town.  Jim heard the screen door slap behind her but didn't call a greeting.  She came into the room, her eyes questioning.  Jim was sitting there as cool as a handful of rose petals, a big smile on his face.  She set down her packages.

"Don't tell me," she said.  "There's a rainstorm coming!"

"Better than that!  Doc Henderson called, says the new X rays look good, real good - a lot better than he expected."  Jim paused and his smile grew wider.  "He figures I could be walking by September."

"Walking...?"  She looked straight into her husband's eyes.  "He figures you'll be able to walk?"  She reached down and held his face in both hands.  "That's the best news you could have given me!" she said, laughing.  She jumped up and twirled a few times around the room, hugging herself with happiness.

"Better than a rainstorm?"

"Oh, honey!  A hundred times better," she laughed and fell into a chair beside him.

"You know," he said, reaching out and touching her arm, "a month ago I couldn't believe how our life was going.  I figured maybe we were praying in the wrong direction or something.  Then along comes the good news, and suddenly the drought hardly seems worth worrying about."

"Well, that's good.  Then I don't need to keep sneaking out at night to water."  Sue lifted her head and looked in Jim's eyes.

"The garden?"

"The garden and all the corn you can see from this house."

"Corn?"  Jim stared at her.

"What else could I do?" Sue smiled.  "You said it yourself, worrying doesn't help any.  It just makes you see things worse than they really are."

 
 

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