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THE FOOLISH FARMER
I. M. Toobusy was the proprietor of a
valuable tract of land, which he purchased shortly before his
marriage to Lotta Ambition. Since Toobusy incurred
heavy obligations in the transaction, it was essential that
every operation be carefully planned and efficiently carried
out. In order to achieve this aim, he and Lotta
sat down and mapped out a plan to divide the farm into
fifty-two separate plots. By so doing, they could
grow just the things that would provide the greatest returns
from every plot of the farm. The hay would be
grown where the creek ran through a corner of the farm; grain
would be of several varieties and would be the main source of
income; the cattle would graze in one place, while he planted
a lovely orchard in another. Flowers and shade
trees beautified the plot where he erected his home, while the
garden was not far away. When he got through I. M.
Toobusy had one of the finest planned farms in the
community.
As time went by, Farmer Toobusy began
to think he had done everything necessary to make his place
pay for itself. He concluded that he was working
too hard and that he should take things easy. His
wife, Lotta felt the same way so she agreed that her husband
should get all the recreation possible…even if the farm was
neglected to some extent. It wasn’t long until a friendly
neighbor called on Toobusy. After exchanging a few
pleasantries, the neighbor enquired with some concern, whether
Toobusy had looked at his berry plot recently. He
suggested that other farmers had picked theirs about a week
before and unless they were attended to at once, there might
be considerable loss because they were starting to spoil.
“Berries?” said Toobusy, “I didn’t think there was anything
worth bothering about them, anyway, so I went fishing,
instead. You see, a man has to have some relaxation from
this grind. Thanks, but I don’t think it will
matter much if I just lose one plot now and then.”
The neighbor left…in a bewildered state of mind. A
few days later Toobusy had another friendly caller, who
dropped by to ask him when he was going to pick his
peaches. “All the other farmers have taken care of
theirs---I just thought you might like to know,” he said, with
grave concern. Mrs. Toobusy replied that her
husband was feeling very tired and was going to take a long
nap to rest up. She said that there were plenty of
peaches in the district and that she could buy some if
needed.
As the hot summer slipped into the bright
days of autumn, a friend stopped by to chat with Toobusy,
about his grain. “Harvest season is here,” he
confided, and “you have one of the best crops around, but my
advice is to cut it now or you will lose a lot of
it.” Toobusy just shrugged his shoulders and
looked at the sky. In doing so, he commented that
it really looked a lot like rain, and that he didn’t think
there was much use in cutting it, before the weather settled a
bit more.” It didn’t rain though.
Instead there was a prolonged dry spell and the pasture land
dried up until there was no grazing for the
cattle. One day the telephone rang and an agitated
voice related how the pasture was bare and that his stock was
dying. He urged Toobusy to investigate without
delay.
Instead of rushing to the pasture, Toobusy
decided the time had come for him to take a vacation; He
consoled himself by saying, “I think we have enough meat
anyway, and so long as we have sufficient meat and milk
for ourselves, it doesn’t matter much about selling
any.” I. M. Toobusy earned the reputation of being
the best excuse maker in the district. He lost a
field of hay because the day he was going to cut it, some
friends dropped in and he stayed home to entertain
them. Most of his chickens died because they gave
him a headache and he didn’t want to be troubled with
them. His boys became delinquent and were always
trying to get something for nothing. They were
very unreliable and irresponsible.
Eventually I.
M. Toobusy began to get callers of a different
kind. Complaints about his fields had reached the
weed inspector. He didn’t take a very friendly
view of Toobusy’s poorly cultivated fields… that were rank
with weeds. He said he would have to condemn the
land unless the weeds were eradicated. It didn’t
do Toobusy any good to retort angrily that he didn’t feel like
pulling weeds after working all day. But this was
only the beginning of Toobusy’s alarm. A rash of bill
collectors came, demanding payment for overdue accounts and
threatening to take civil action or even foreclosure unless
their accounts were promptly paid. Although
Toobusy thought they were unreasonable and extremely harsh, he
could not discredit their claims that if he would look after
his place better, he could pay all his accounts.
No one had any sympathy with his excuses.
At last
I. M. Toobusy began to see how foolish he had
been. He called his wife and family together and
said, “I’ve been wrong. I’ve been making a
terrible mistake. I’m hurting myself and my family
by failing to give proper care to each of the
plots. We have a valuable farm, but it needs
proper care. A new policy is going into effect
tomorrow morning. We’ll work together and give
proper attention to each plot of ground at the appropriate
time.” The family welcomed the news and agreed to
co-operate. In a relatively short period of time,
the effects were felt and they began to prosper
again. Creditors ceased to threaten action and
finally all outstanding accounts were paid.
One
day Mrs. Toobusy came to her husband and asked if she could
talk over another situation, which she felt was
important. “Husband,” she began, have you ever
thought about how our farm resembles our obligation to
Christ? Your farm is divided into fifty-two
plots. There are also fifty-two Sundays in a
year. Every time you fail to give proper attention
to your farm plot you lose something and in the same way, you
lose something every Sunday you fail to attend
church. If you go fishing, golfing or joy riding,
or even if you just continue working, you’re saying “This is
more important to me than going to church.” All
fifty-two plots are vital to our farm, and in the same manner,
our Sundays, properly kept, are vital to spiritual
progress. What you say about the farm is right and
I will cooperate, but will you take equal care of God’s Sunday
plots throughout the year?”
Toobusy was able to
see the logic of his wife’s plea. He was also
reasonable and could scarcely wait until Sunday came to put
his decision into practice. On Sunday morning he
marched down the aisle with his family and took a pew near the
front of the church. He confessed his folly in
neglecting his spiritual needs, before everyone present, and
resolved firmly to be a different man. It soon
became evident that the Toobusy family could be relied
upon. In due time they accepted classes in Sunday
School. Later on, they were voted into offices of
trust and became pillars in the church. They still
work hard on their farm for they are industrious and diligent
in everything they do. The Toobusy family made a
great discovery…just in time too: “You never FIND time for
God…you must TAKE time.”
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