The Grace of the Land

Five years ago today, my father passed away. It was fitting that he, a farmer, a man of the land his entire life, should pass on the Harvest Moon.

My studies into how my ancestors related to the lands they lived on has renewed my exploration into where and how they spent their time. Because Dad’s father died when Dad was two, and none of the rest of his father’s immediate family (whose name was other than Jansen) came to Canada, he never knew them or anything about them. Although he had second cousins here, his heart ached to know more. He also yearned to return to the prairies!

It’s been an honor that his/my cousins have pitched in on this quest. That’s how two disparate photographs turned up that identified Dad’s great-grandfather with certainty. How apt on this anniversary that through their effort, Dad has found his place in his family.

During Dad’s final days, it was a gift to him and to his family, that he had time to reminisce, recapitulate, and say what he wanted to say. Dad touched many people during that time, including Bob Tees, who worked in Spiritual Care at the hospital. Bob often dropped in to listen and offer solace. As a result of our conversations, Bob was moved to write The Grace of the Land for my parents on what would be Dad’s last day. It’s shared here with Bob’s permission.

The Grace of the Land

walked a mile in the carpenter’s shoes
sang his songs, played his blues
the dusty road washed my feet
step by step, beat by beat

rays of sunlight sweep the plain
prairie fields sing a long refrain
wind and starlight paint the western sky
my darling dances always in my mind’s eye

so many things I don’t understand
but my heart knows the grace of the land
so many times you’ve taken my hand
that’s when I felt the grace of the land

o Maker of earth, stars and sea
thanks for the wonder and place to be free
Maker of heaven, laughter and praise
Walk with your children these passing days

the far away past sleeps lightly and true
comes gently awake, makes old things new
blooms in the graveyard, joy from the earth
doves from the ashes, springs from a miracle birth

so many things I don’t understand
but my heart knows the grace of the land
so many times you’ve taken my hand
that’s when I felt the grace of the land

for Ben and Margaret Jansen
October 5, 2017
Bob Tees, 2017