I have an affinity towards farmers. Maybe because I went to Cal Poly or maybe because I now live in the cowboy town of Porve. I think though, that it is more because I am drawn to the type of person they are. I love how their hard work ethic and determination reveal itself in the sun worn lines on their faces and the calluses on their hands. I also like that their lives are full of the harsh realities of relying on the weather for their livelihoods, yet their smiles always seem to reach their eyes. Farmers spends their emotions wisely I think. Many may think this makes them hard and calculating. I feel it makes them wise and patient.
All this is maybe why I was drawn to the farmer selling oranges at the camp the first night. Despite missing half of them, his remaining teeth were startling white against his tan skin. His hands were deft as he moved the fruit around, organizing and picking out the bad ones. He seemed accustomed to hard work as he did generosity. When he insisted I take an orange I recognized a good heart, when it was one of his perfectly round and blemish free oranges I saw a great spirit. I was sad to leave him after talking with him but I was overjoyed when I looked back to see him hungrily absorbing the book of John and Romans we gave him. As hard as that man works, God works harder. I have hope for that farmer... God is not done with him just yet.