• Bethlehem Revisited

    The First Nativity

    We led the animals down the road, Judd holding the lead ropes to the horse and pony, and I with my bucket of grain for the sheep. The beam from the flashlight Judd held in his free hand lit the way through the darkness. At the bottom of the hill, we turned in to the pole shed area which had become the designated spot for our first nativity program. The pole shed area boasted of nice round bales that were stored in the shed.  Those bales and the old shed would be the perfect area for our endeavor.   With a concrete slab near the fence and feeding troughs along…

  • Bethlehem Revisited

    The Germ of an Idea

    By the second December on our Kansas farm, we had acquired two horses and a few sheep.  Many evenings in the dark, I would walk to the barn, fill the grain buckets, toss some hay, break the ice in the water tanks, and then stand and enjoy the scene that played out before me.  After the first general excitement of feeding time, the animals would settle down to contentedly nibbling at their hay. In the quiet, I leaned against the gate to the barnyard and gazed at the scene before me. My mind went back to those unique celebrations we had experienced in California.  Polished programs drew thousands.  We would…

  • Memories from others

    Memories of the Farm by Michael Kizzee

    When invited, along with many others, to write my memories of Well Spring farm on Kitten Creek Road, I found myself at a loss. How does one capture in words the way a piece of land has imprinted one’s spirit?  Thinking about the memories makes me want to return again, but  I fear the moment has passed and it wouldn’t be the same. Never-the-less, I will try to share the impact this farm had upon me. My first visit to the farm came when Nancy and Judd were rebuilding the barn that was in disrepair. My girlfriend at the time, Alicia, (later my wife of 19 years) invited me to…

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  • The Gift of Animals

    Lessons in Lambing

    The clock on my dresser told me that it was two am.  I reached for my old red bathrobe draped by the bed and sleepily made my way to the back door.  Stepping into my mud boots and warm jacket, I grabbed a flashlight and slipped out into the cool night air. With each step I took, I could feel my bathrobe softly wrap around my bare legs. Turning sleep-hungry eyes toward the starlit sky I whispered, “So, God, what lesson am I learning…or supposed to learn…through this new adventure?”   Getting up every two hours should have some reward, I reasoned.  Maybe it will be twins…two prize ewes or grand…