The Home Place
My Growing Up Farm
The photo is a bit wonky since I took a photo
of a photo in a frame on my hallway wall.
But, it gives the setting for the
"Where I'm From" Psalm.
I wrote this back in 2010
and have been looking for it everywhere.
On computers and hard copies.
No luck until today-sorting piles.
I had learned about this type of Psalm
at a Renovare conference.
The Psalms were written as story-songs,
and though this may not be sung,
it is story.
So, sharing it here so that it is "filed."
It follows a fill-in-the blank format
that was given to the class that I took.
We were to describe a growing up summer
from when we were 12.
"The Where I'm From" Psalm
I am from 4-H Clubs, from Central Soya
and home canned peaches.
I am from the farmhouse with black shutters,
guarding the slightly leaning Civil War barn,
and dew-drops glistening on the catalpa branches.
I am from soybeans, massive pink peony bushes,
black walnuts, and tasseled-out corn,
purple lilacs and dusty gravel roads.
I am from fast-pitch softball and loyalty,
from Aunt Birdie and Riebelings and Grafts.
I am from repaint, reuse and cherish
and spin out and hang on the clothesline.
I am from "crooked, tilled rows never make
themselves straight"
and "spritz, roll and freeze"
before you iron those sleeves.
I am from Lutheran, Lutheran,
that good ole', no smiles Missouri Synod.
Neighbor, neighbor, ain't we all?
I'm from Ossian and the Preble Low-Dutch Germans
and pluckets and that hot potato salad.
From the gentle, caring nurse that excelled
in foot rub healings,
and the "30 and out" factory-worker farmer,
and the whirly-gig grandpa.
I'm from iron plank bridges
across phlox covered ditch banks,
log and branch huts along the creek,
and the back-forty land laid open
in cultivated ridges
of acres of black gold dirt.
Constance Laine Graft Martin Denninger
March 2010
Constance Laine Graft Martin Denninger
March 2010
