My mother thought it would be a good idea to give my sister and me some diverse and character building experiences in our early teen years, so she worked it out with a family friend who had just bought a tomato farm for us to help with the harvest. The farm was in Walland, TN between Pigeon Forge and Maryville (pronounced “Murvul” by the locals). The tomatoes were headed for the cannery so we had to pick them when they were just starting to ripen, so they could continue to ripen on the truck and not spoil before they got there. The owner said, "turn the green tomato over before picking it and see if there is a red/pink star on the bottom.” This seemed easy enough to me. So, I was assigned a row and given a 5 gallon bucket to fill just like the 20 or so other migrant pickers. When the bucket was full, a runner would come down my row, pick it up and take it to the truck. By the way, I was much slower than the migrant workers who were experts and very fast. There were about 20 Hispanic workers who lived in one mobile home on the farm for the harvest season, before they would move on to live at the next farm to pick another crop. They were very hard workers and they were very kind to me and my sister. They shared their homemade burritos with us at lunch time, They were so spicy and hot that they chuckled at us gringos when we asked for water (!Agua, Por favor!). As we were picking, the owner said, “who is picking the green tomatoes? I thought this was funny, because they all looked green to me except for the red/pink star on the bottom. Well, they followed the buckets back the next round and identified me as the “green picker,” because all my stars were green, not red. It was at that moment I realized that I was red/green color blind. Guess who became the bucket carrier? Yep, the harvesters would yell, “bucket!” and I would run down the row with an empty bucket and exchange it for the full one, which I took to the tractor trailer truck and handed it up to the one who poured them gently in. The days were hot, so after a day of picking we would go to the cold mountain water of Walland Creek nearby to cool off before heading home to eat, sleep and do it again the next day. After a few days of bucket carrying, the owner decided it was a better idea to send me and my sister to the farmers market to generate another income stream by selling the tomatoes too ripe for the truck. I think the real reason was because about 10 more workers had arrived from another farm and we were picking much too slow and hindering the operation.
The Apostle Paul encouraged the early church to keep going, keep picking good things to do and choosing to live right so they could enjoy a harvest of real life and true blessings from God. He says to the Galatian church, “Don’t be misled—you cannot mock the justice of God. You will always harvest what you plant. Those who live only to satisfy their own sinful nature will harvest decay and death from that sinful nature. But those who live to please the Spirit will harvest everlasting life from the Spirit. So let’s not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don’t give up.” (Galatians 6:7-9 NLT) It is our connection with the Spirit of God that changes who we are and how we live, so we can enjoy the blessings that come from those changes.
Hang in there people! God is glad to be with us! I’m praying for us all!
