There
is this young farmer.
He is
skilled, and confident, and likable, and rugged, and upright; a solid man of
God and family and principles. He’s also about as masculine as they come – with
a strength that is nothing remotely macho but is the raw, genuine strength that
comes from hard work, integrity, and following the straight and narrow path.
He
works long days in the fields and his clothes bear the marks of his labor: running
a full-time dairy operation, taking care of the animals, working the land,
subduing the earth.
Unfortunately,
he is not available . . . just thought I should clarify . . . :)
Many
years ago, our families sat around an evening campfire. We were talking about
bow hunting and deer season, quite a topic of interest. And this farming man
told us the story of his walk in the woods way back behind their farm, when he
had come upon a tiny fawn hidden in the weeds. With his characteristically slow
smile, he described its delicate beauty, and how it wasn’t even scared of him. “I
knew my sisters just had to see it,” he said, then told of how he’d gently
picked up the little creature in his arms, and carried it all the way back to
the house to show the rest of the family.
I got
this mental picture sitting there by the fire (I still get the picture every
time I think of it) . . . this strong, rugged farmer, tough as the land itself,
cradling a baby fawn in his arms. Is there not something very good, something quiet
and innocent and deeply attractive about that picture? When my family left the
farm, it was with a fresh insight into the heart of this work-toughened, manly
guy who was touched by the little things. It’s the attractiveness of a man who
regardeth the life of his beast.
But
part of what made that story so powerful for us was this: here is a man who truly
understands the down-and-dirty, unpleasant and sometimes painful reality of
animal husbandry. Animals aren’t just for companionship or cuteness. We use
them for work. We use them for food. We have to herd them, brand them, doctor them,
kill them. This is not the peaches-and-cream picture of playing fetch with dear
old Fido. No, there are many aspects to caring for animals (farming in
particular) that aren’t always pretty.
It is
attitude that makes all the difference, that separates gentle strength from
macho power, that separates husbandry from cruelty. There is a stark contrast between
the man who will do the unpleasant task quickly and gently, treating an animal
with gratitude and respect as a God-made creature, versus the man who is
callous to pain, or quick to anger at unintelligent animals, or who makes sport
of the task through enjoyment of violence. (By the way, this
also includes the task of killing varmints).
Gentle,
God-given strength is not only Biblical, it is far more attractive to a girl
like me. It represents a fortitude of character that is on an entirely different
level than the guy who is attractive just because he wears a nice baseball cap
and hangs his arm out the window of his truck. Although that’s awfully nice,
too . . . (just sayin’).
Forward-thinking
girls watch to see how a guy – a potential future husband – treats the weaker,
more fragile creatures in his life because it is a good indicator of how he
will treat his own wife and children in the future. There will come a day when
his wife is in a moment of helplessness and needs his strength – perhaps to
help her do something unpleasant or unknown, like disciplining a small child or
giving birth – and she will rely on that character in him, the gentle yet firm
rock on which she can lean. There will also come a day when he needs qualities
of tenderness and kindness to care for a little baby. Or two. Or ten . . . Even
when he’s tired after a long day of work.
My
bottom line? Kindness to animals is a very
attractive quality in men. It’s a quality that I respect and admire in the men
in my family, and it’s a quality I’m praying for in a future husband.
