Dear Dad,

This is too late for you to read, but I hope you hear of it in Heaven. Thank you for your love, pain and sacrifice, it will remain unrequited no longer.

A man who had a field sent his laborers out to prepare it for planting. First they removed the stones and the trees and the brush. Next they leveled the ground, removing all the high and low spots to make it even. Then began the rigorous chore of plowing to break up the ground and prepare for seed. They hewed out straight furrows for watering. Now the ground was ready for the painstaking sewing of seed, each one pushed into the tops of the furrow carefully to avoid over-crowding. Room for the roots, and future growth were considered.

For days, weeks, and months, the laborers watered, fertilized, weeded, and chased away destroying insects and animals. As the plants grew, dead and damaged branches were removed to encourage the hearth of the plants. Produce appeared and it was cared for and nurtured by hour, dad by day, in heat and cold, in wind and rain, the laborers guarded and tended the field.

As autumn approached, the produce was ripe and ready. The owner of the field was told that the crop was ready and he ordered the field be harvested. Many more were temporarily sent into the field with the laborers to remove the produce. They all together gleaned the field, harvesting in days what had taken months to produce.

After the crops were safely stored in the barns the help celebrated together the great harvest. The temporary laborers were heard to say, “look at the great harvest we have produced.” Ignorant and unappreciative of the sacrifice of those who toiled to make the harvest possible. Those there from the beginning just looked at each other, and smiled.

Father, forgive me for not honoring my dad like I should have, all I am is built upon his sweat his sacrifice and his courage.

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