The Hancock-Henderson Quill, Inc.
Greetings to everyone in western Illinois. Shore enough is nice to see so much of this snow a melt'n off. Won't be long a'fore we get the oats seeder out and begin our spring ritual of prepare'n way for this years crop. Count up the days and week's and you'll find we're on the short end of time if'n we have an early spring.
Some are a bet'n the other way and figure it'll be a late spring. Markets are a react'n some to that line of thought.
As for myself, I'll take it as it comes and try'n to make the best of it.
Some of you folk have wondered aloud, in the coffee shop, why I maintain friends with such as "Buster Jinx", "Sandy Bob" and "Cornelius Farkwad". Well, they has been friends of mine for a powerful long time. Long before they got so opinionated and back in the days when we toiled hard together share'n our farm work and neighboring in our workload for the good of all.
Fact is in those "Good ole Days" we had most of our time used up provide'n for our families and not much extra time for simply "Jawing Sessions" together.
Well, these fellers and others like'em are my friends because they gave me recognition when my clothes were patched and torn. They came to see and cheer me when I was lying sick and worn. They took my hand and lifted me up when I was on the downward track. They always spoke the same things to my face as what they said behind my back. And when the odds were strong against me, they fought for me to the end. I bind them tightly to my heart-for they are truly my friends.
To be a good friend is one of the noblest and most difficult undertakings. An old poem written by Corey Ford aptly puts friendship in the following manner- "This is Friendship".
I love you, not only for what you are, but for when I am with you.
I love you, not only for what you have made of yourself, but for what you are making of me.
I love you for the part of me that you bring out.
I love you for putting your hand into my heaped-up heart and passing over all the frivolous and weak things that you cannot help seeing there, and drawing out into the light all the beautiful, radiant things that no one else has looked quite deep enough to find.
I love you for ignoring the possibilities of the fool in me and for laying firm hold of the possibilities of good in me.
I love you for closing your eyes to the discords in me and for adding to the music in me by worshipful listening.
I love you because you are helping me to make of the lumber of my life not a tavern, but a temple, and of the words of my every day not a reproach, but a song.
I love you because you have done more than any creed could have done to make me happy.
You have done it without a touch, without a word, without a sign.
You have done it by just being yourself.
After all, this is what being a friend means.
There you have it then-why I keep my friends and I'm a hope'n why my friends keep me.
Keep on Smile'n
Catch ya Later
Barnyard Bruke