Be thankful for your place in life

WESTSIDE — The banker, my banker, asked me if I’d like to go get a drink with him yesterday. We were at the feed store at the same time. Sure enough, I’d get a cup of coffee with the feller that keeps my wheels greased and the wolves away from the door.

I figured we would walk across the street to the regular coffee emporium and sit down at the round table with the rest of the members. I opened the door and held it for him, the banker. He headed for his pickup and I followed. We climbed in and drove out north across the creek. Going north was not what I expected, so I did not know what to expect. I had left Dog at the truck parked beside the feed store and my close relative expected me home by lunch time but here I went to places unknown.

John, the banker, had grown up in the area and was interested in all the dealings with livestock around our county. His family was good as gold but not wealthy or even what you might call middling in the income department. My first impression of Johnwas that he was born with the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth, but I was sure wrong. He came up by hard work and being the kind of human being we all ought to be, honest and diligent.

Finally breaking the silence, John asked me what I thought of the hay crop this year, did I figure on selling any fescue seed and how my family was feeling. We visited about all the stuff and finally he pulled in at the little convenience store on the highway. We unloaded and went in.

I headed for the coffee machine and fixed us both a cup and John paid us out. He stood around visiting with the couple of men there and we went back to the pickup. I was still unable to figure out the basis of our trip but it was pleasant enough.

John turned south when we started out from the store, back toward town. He talked about his family and how the Grands were growing up so fast. His Grands now had offspring of their own and John was beginning to show his age himself. He talked about the coming fall and how he would enjoythe high school football games and the support the community always showed.

We pulled into the parking space across from the feed store and I still didn’t know what we had accomplished, if anything, but it had been a nice ride. John offered his hand and we shook. I thanked him for the coffee and invited him out anytime. I watched him drive off, still wondering what had happened.

It is my opinion, and everyone has one, be thankful for your place in life, no matter what or where you are. Sometimes a feller just has to see where others are to realize being broke or downtrodden is OK if you are doing what you love. All of us keepers of the land are liable to go busted at any moment, but that is fine if we are doing something we are passionate about. I know it won’t kill you because Ihave been there, but you come out of the strangle hold stronger and better than when you went in.

I hope our banker is happy. His 70-plus years have been spent and he is living on the change now.

I wonder if John would have liked to have been one of us, poor but happy, and about to go to the bank for a loan!

Bill is a pen name used by the Gravette author of this weekly column.