In my 40-year association with the
family that operates the Canyon Creek Ranch, I have learned a number of invaluable
lessons. For one, this suburban kid can buck a bale, pluck a chicken and chop a
pile of wood. Also, I never would have learned the true meaning of “hamburger” without the experience of
hanging around ranchers through the cycle of their year.
Yet the most essential teachings
have come from the core values of everyday life on the ranch, which can be
heard again and again, especially between grandparents and their grandchildren.
These truths aren’t just for
children. In fact, they have lasting meaning for all of us, regardless of age
or locale.
Lesson 1: Put things back
where you found them
The Ten Commandments conclude with
“Thou shalt
not covet.” It
assumes that human trait that sees what another has with envy, if not lust.
On a ranch, it is essential that
one shares what one possesses when appropriate. This is how tools are tested
and improved and how young ones learn to use them. Neighbors will run out of
essential supplies and share equipment when it is cost effective. One of the
key rules of such an exchange is the agreement to return the property back to
the place it belongs. If you can't find the shovel when a fire breaks out, or
the bucket for the table scraps to feed the chickens, or your cell phone when
the baby is about to be born … well, on a ranch, things have a place in relation to
their function.
Respecting another’s property, its place and function,
and returning it to its owner is the opposite of “coveting,” because when you put things back where you found them,
you honor the person and the relationship, and your own integrity in the
process.
Isn’t that true for relationships as well as things?
Lesson 2: Clean up your
mess
It’s difficult to learn anything on a ranch without
making a mess, especially the first time you try it. That’s true of baking a pie,
chopping wood, stacking hay, or putting a horse away after a day of riding. My
experience on a ranch has taught me that there is a lot of patience and grace when
it comes to mess and mistakes.
What isn’t tolerated, from the get-go,
is walking away from your mess and expecting someone else to clean it up. Taking
responsibility for your actions is an essential part of learning and an essential
measure of human maturity.
How many relationships could be
saved, how many careers advanced, how many sleepless nights avoided if we
simply found the conviction to clean up our own messes? Jesus said, “First take the log out of
your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your
neighbor’s eye” (Matthew 7:5).
The only harm in making a mess is
running away from it.
Lesson 3: There is no shame in asking
for help
The ranch owner I worked for 40
years ago taught me a very important lesson one day. We were about to “work calves,” which means corral the herd,
separate the calves from their mothers (no easy task, one that requires skilled
riders!), rope the calves, and throw them to the ground for a team to brand,
castrate, and de-horn the males and give various immunization injections. It is
quite a process!
Well, this city boy had seen
plenty of cowboy movies and TV shows growing up, so when it was my turn, I
picked up some rope to try my hand at lassoing a calf. The owner watched in
silence as this tender foot twirled the rope over his head and successfully lassoed
a calf about 15 feet away. Holding the rope directly in front of me, the 200 lb.
calf broke for its mother across the corral. The resulting rope burn through my
palms was with me for about a week!
The ranch owner broke out
laughing. After the calf was released, he took the rope from me and showed me
the correct way to rope a calf: once the calf is lassoed, the cowboy wraps the
loose rope around his back, leaning with all of his weight to stop the surging
animal in its tracks. A cowboy would also never “work calves” without gloves on!
The ranch owner handed me back the
rope and, as he walked away, said, “There is no shame in asking for help.”
Isn’t that true in any aspect of our lives?
Lesson 4: Everybody pitches in
Ranchers are required to know
accounting, tax and environmental law, veterinary medicine, automobile
mechanics, land management, building codes, and plumbing and electrical
contracting, to say nothing about the domestic arts of cooking and preserving
food. That list doesn’t even
begin to cover all that needs to be done on a working ranch. It is essential
then that anyone on it, regardless of age, pitches in whenever and wherever
appropriate. If you haven’t
cooked the meal, you help clean up. When it is time to move the herd, there is
a role for everyone, from opening gates to driving the cows with your horse. If
all your skill level can handle is feeding the chickens, then your contribution
is expected and very much welcomed. Everybody pitches in to make the ranch
work.
In modern families, how often do
we find children treated as the audience, spectators to what it takes to run a
family? We see this passive entitlement in the workplace, at school, and very
much in the church. We count on others to contribute to the success of the
whole while we limit our interests and activities to personal preferences. In
our hectic and privileged culture, we grow entitled to self-interest, expecting
someone else to make the mission of the larger system work. We see this especially
in our voting patterns in the U.S., where rarely do even half of eligible
voters turn out for elections. We see this in churches and other nonprofit
service organizations where it is expected that 20 percent of the active
members will fund 80 percent of the operations of the institution.
On a ranch, everybody pitches in. Everyone
invests in the success and mission of the whole. In so doing, each individual
makes a unique contribution and reaps the benefits of success or is there to
share the burden of failure. One way or the other, the sense of purpose and
belonging lasts a lifetime. It may also be what we in suburbia so desperately
seek.
Lesson 5: Please and thank you
Teaching conventional manners varies
from culture to culture. It is a universal responsibility for parents and
community elders to equip their children with these essential tools for
positive relationships. Saying “please” when making a request and “thank you” upon receiving are found in
most languages and come with a myriad of associated expressions.
On the ranch, “please” and “thank you” define required behavior for
all ages and statuses. Expressing respect and gratitude is more than quaint
ritual. Honor and courtesy acknowledge another's humanity in a relationship
exchange.
This value of respect and
gratitude is also applied to the earth and its cycles. Rather than exploiting
the land, as is often the assumption of those foreign to farming, this ranching
family lives as part of the ecology and its needs. For example, this family recycled
plastics, metals, and glass for decades before it became municipal law. Their
use of pesticides, insecticides, and fertilizers as well as their care for the
livestock have been done with a commitment to ecological responsibility long
before that was in fashion. Members of this family serve on regional
commissions overseeing the sustainability of water, grassland, wildlife habitat,
and forest. Not all farming operations share such values, but many do. Folks
like these respect the earth, honor what it shares with them, and are grateful
to be a part of it.
“Please” and “thank you” aren’t just about getting along
with others. Such values can frame how we live on this planet.
Conclusion:
As a visitor to ranch life and
culture, I romanticize much of what I observe. Yet it’s not so much that I ignore
how difficult, stressful, and risky such work can be for those who grow our
food. I have learned much in association with my surrogate family at Canyon
Creek Ranch and am beyond grateful for their hospitality and graciousness. Above
all, they have exhibited values that make anyone’s life more rich and real.