Last Thursday was not on anybody’s schedule.
Like most Thursdays, everyone was busy with work, family obligations, and the hundred other things that seem to fill our calendars. Then word started making its way through the tribe that a local dairy farmer had lost a cow during calving. The calf survived, but the cow did not. One of our folk learned that the animal was available before it was buried and recognized an opportunity. Rather than see it go to waste, he arranged to purchase it and began contacting others to see who might be available to help process it. By the end of the afternoon, several members of the tribe had gathered in a driveway under ninety-three-degree temperatures with a very large Holstein and a substantial amount of work ahead of them.
The work itself was not particularly glamorous. It was hot, physically demanding, and at times uncomfortable. Most modern Americans rarely have the opportunity to see where their food comes from, much less participate in the process. Yet despite the heat and the workload, people continued showing up and contributing where they could.
What stood out most throughout the day was not the animal itself, but the cooperation surrounding it.
Some members arrived with experience and practical knowledge. Others came willing to learn. Younger members spent time asking questions, observing techniques, and helping where appropriate. Knowledge that is increasingly uncommon in modern society was passed directly from one generation to another through shared work rather than formal instruction.
The opportunity also benefited everyone involved.
The farmer received compensation for an animal that otherwise would have been buried. Several families were able to stock their freezers with quality beef. Future tribal gatherings became a little more affordable. Most importantly, people spent time together accomplishing something useful while strengthening relationships that already existed.
It would be easy to look at the day and focus only on the practical outcome. Hundreds of pounds of food certainly represent a meaningful benefit. What I found more encouraging, however, was seeing how quickly people responded when an opportunity presented itself. Nobody was required to be there. Nobody was paid to be there.
People rearranged schedules, gave up free time, worked in difficult conditions, and contributed what skills they had because they believed the effort was worthwhile. In a time when many people speak about community as an abstract concept, it was refreshing to witness it in a very practical form. A local farmer experienced a loss. Members of the tribe recognized an opportunity to create something positive from that loss. By the end of the day, everyone involved had benefited in some way.
As I reflected on the experience afterward, I found myself feeling grateful for the people involved. Opportunities come and go. What matters is having people around you who are willing to step forward when those opportunities arise.
Last Thursday reminded me that I am fortunate to be surrounded by exactly those kinds of people.
William Lord
Ondheim Theodish Fellowship
Ondheim.org