Gold Medal 1972,Canadian A Mens

A PERSPECTIVE ABOUT OLD BARNS

Only years of standing in the weather,

bearing the storms and scorching sun,

only that can produce beautiful barn wood.

A stranger came by the other day with an offer that set me to thinking.

He wanted to buy the old barn that sits out by the highway.

I told him right off he was crazy.

He was a city type, you could tell by his clothes, his car,
his hands, and the way he talked.

He said he was driving by and saw that beautiful barn

sitting out in the tall grass and wanted to know if it was for sale.

I told him he had a funny idea of beauty.

Sure, it was a handsome building in its day.

But then, there's been a lot of winters pass with their snow

and ice and howling wind.

The summer sun's beat down on that old barn till all the paint's gone,

and the wood has turned silver gray.

Now the old building leans a good deal, looking kind of tired.

Yet, that fellow called it beautiful.

That set me to thinking.

I walked out to the field and just stood there, gazing at that old barn.
The stranger said he planned to use the lumber to line the walls of his den

in a new country home he's building down the road.

He said you couldn't get paint that beautiful.
Only years of standing in the weather,

bearing the storms and scorching sun,

only that can produce beautiful barn wood.

It came to me then. We're a lot like that, you and I. 

Only it's on the inside that the beauty grows with us.

Sure we turn silver gray too... and lean a bit more than

we did when we were young and full of sap.

But the Good Lord knows what He's doing.

And as the years pass He's busy using the hard weather of our lives,

the dry spells and the stormy seasons to do a job of beautifying

our souls that nothing else can produce.

And to think how often folks holler because they want life easy!

They took the old barn down today and hauled it away

to beautify a rich man's house.

And I reckon someday you and I'll be hauled off

to Heaven to take on whatever chores the Good Lord

has for us on the Great Sky Ranch.

And I suspect we'll be more beautiful

then for the seasons we've been through here...

and just maybe even add a bit of beauty to our Father's house.

May there be peace within you today.

May you trust God that you are

exactly where you are meant to be.

And...

I do sincerely thank God

for my wonderful friends and family

who love me even though

"Heavenly Father,

We come before you today

To ask your forgiveness and

To seek your direction and guidance.

We know Your Word says,

"Woe to those who call evil good"

But that is exactly what we have done.

We have lost our spiritual equilibrium

And reversed our values.

We have exploited the poor and

Called it the lottery.

We have rewarded laziness

And called it welfare.

We have killed our unborn

and called it choice.

We have shot abortionists

And called it justifiable.

We have neglected to discipline

Our children and called it

Building self esteem.

We have abused power

And called it politics.

We have coveted our neighbour's

Possessions and called it ambition.

We have polluted the air

With profanity and

Pornography and called it

Freedom of speech and expression.

We have ridiculed the time

Honoured values of our

Forefathers and called it enlightenment.

Search us, Oh, God,

And know our hearts today;

Cleanse us from every sin

And set us free.

Amen!"

This day I decided to switch it all off,

no tv,no music,no Radio,

it was to be a silent treatment,to refresh,

perhaps the brain ,it needed it so!

Off it was ,soon thoughts came to me

of the old John Deere we had at home

one that had the pulley start up,and soon

I heard the loud JD workin away ,dad was busy

putting friction base on the old belt that would drive the sawmill!!!!

then it became the loudest silence one could hear

I changed gears,I was on the diamond

in Weyburn Park,playing a nice quiet game against Regina,the usual 900 - 1100

fans showed up!

the first batter ,bunted ,we overthru it

and a man on,then the noise started to build

without me knowing I was striking out batters ,one by one

they went down,we played 9 innings in those days ,soon the fans where clappin and cheering

Iwas still striking them out,behold thats what the fuss was all about,

will he finish the game that way ,?

it sure looks that way ,lets cheer Red on

and they did ,it too became a very pleasant loud silence

for I finished     with 23 out of 27stikeouts!!!!

what a feeling ,this silence had become,it drifted me to two pleasant paths,

both very precious Silent Memories,came a thunder

,with the ever present mind to share with me.

Thankyou Lord ,for that imagination of truth,again.,not ,

for the first time!CJF@

 The high fly ball ,arches out above left field,
hangs there in the sky
outblazing the sun
while fifty thousand heads swings and cry
"Over the wall! Over the wall!"

then hold, fixed and dumb                                             
as the ball drops
down and down, a dead bird
into a waiting glove

and there you have it: the song,
the flight, the perilous whisper of truth
or of love or possibly of faith

then the descent
and the end of the game

 The tree we see,is it to be?                              
or is it just what we see?

The sound we hear,is it near
or is it just upon our ear?

The wind we feel,is it strong,
weak,chilly or hot?
It may be what we forgot!

Its our perception,to observe
some wrong,some right,some
straight some curve.

The Spirit within seems so real,
like the tree,the wind,the sound,
actually,its all Faith,Faith abound!

May all this seem a simple thing,
to love,to care,to share,
a simple daily Prayer

©cjf

BETWEEN A CHINOOK AND A BLIZZARD
THERE’S A HILL THEY CALL WESTCASTLE PARK
WITH THE CHALLENGE OF VERTICLE POWDER
THAT SHOULDN’T BE KEPT IN THE DARK

IT’S GOT GREEN RUNS THAT’S BLUE AND BLUE RUNS THAT’S BLACK
AND BLACK RUNS THAT’S STRAIGHT OUT OF HELL
A T-BAR THAT ROBS THE STRENGTH FROM YOUR LEGS                                                       
SAY THE FOLKS WHO DON’T SKI VERY WELL

BUT FOR DOWNHILLERS SEEKING ADVENTURE
WHO CAN HANDLE THE CRUD WHEN IT BLOWS
THERE’S NO NEED TO LOOK ANY FURTHER
THAT THE HILL THAT’S RIGHT UNDER YOUR NOSE

THE DUKE AND THE QUE AND THE SHOTGUN
ARE RUNS THAT PUT TEETH IN YOUR GRIN
OR THE BURN OR TRAPPER AT SUNDOWN
CAN BE BETTER THAN MANY A SIN

YOU CAN CRUISE IN THE NORTH AND CARVE IN THE SOUTH
AND LEAVE TIME FOR NINE TO FIVE
TURN CATWALKS TO LYNX AND WOLVERINES TO WEASELS
IT’S AMAZING WHAT YOU CAN SURVIVE

NOW THE HILL IS PATROLLED FOR ITS’ SAFETY
BY A GROUP THAT ARE KNOWN FOR THEIR TRY
WITH TEACHERS AND KEEPERS AND COWBOYS
SURE HANDS THAT KNOW HOW TO GET BY

THE CANADIAN SKI PATROL SYSTEM
HAS A CURIOUS PRIDE FOR THIS LOT
WHO PATROL FROM THE TOP OF THE CASTLE
WHERE MANY A BODY WOULD NOT

PATROLLING THIS HILL TAKES SOME EFFORT
PULLING SLEDS PACKED FULL OF SUPPLIES
RESPONDING TO CALLS FROM THE PUBLIC
WHO’S SKIING HAS CAUSED SOME DEMISE

ADMINISTERING FIRST AID IS THEIR CALLING
THEY’RE MEDICS MOUNTED ON SKIS
DEVOTING THEIR TIME TO THEIR TRAINING
AND WORKING FOR BINGO HALL FEES

WHEN SKIINGS ALL DONE AND SWEEP’S DOWN
THEY GATHER AT NIGHT IN THE HUT
WITH STORIES AND LAUGHTER AND APPETITES
FOR GREAT FOOD SERVED POTLUCK

YOU MAY HEAR THAT WESTCASTLE IS CLOSING
IT’S APPARENT NO PROFITS ARE MADE
BUT IF TALENT AND TRY HAVE THE LAST WORD
THE PATROL WILL GIVE MORE THAN FIRST AID

FOR THE HILL AND PATROL ARE TOO PRECIOUS
TO LET DIE WITHOUT EVEN A FIGHT
AND VOLUNTEERING MANY HOURS OF TOIL
IS NO STRANGER TO SKI PATROL TYPE

SO I DOUBT THEY’LL UNDALLY THEIR RESOLVE
NO MATTER HOW GRIM THAT IT LOOKS
TO MAINTAIN THE CASTLE OF SKI HILLS
IN THE MIDDLE OF BLIZZARDS AND CHINOOKS

BJS/94

Design by Diamond Hitch Acres.

   Game seven,series tied,man on third,                                                                         
full count on batter--Coach ,calls TIME
what now?coach points to me,in bullpen,
pitching change,in I went,to finish tis war
Instructions:throw your warmup pitches hard
when ump calls to play,throw your change-up!!!!!!                            
what,I have no control over it,are you sure coach?
catcher Pod ,stretch and other infielders urged me on   
you can you can,think man think put it here                                                       
Play,I receive the signal from Pod,sure enough
a change-up is the call,blood,sweat and tears
what am I doing here?a young Mennonite boy
to challenge the  big bat stare it down,prepare for the change,    
a knuckle ball,in a sweaty hand with short fingers
I bravely took my stance,went into the delivery and I delivered
a Change up,that bounced and hopped to the catcher Pod,
to my surprise,the batter swung ,way ahead and missed,
we won ---what a call coach,what call,too tense for me,
no,no, growing up to face the next challenge.     ©CJF

Fall of 1968 

---

 

There is a place I call home                                        
on sand it stands real tall  
 I Grasp this white sphere  ,called the ball!                                                                                       
Ifollow instructions from the catch
perform a circle of motion
causes the ball ,its speed to fetch !

Once inertia takes place
time to see the batters face
take a swing or take a spill
the mound, my Summerhill !     CJF ©

 While driving along a country road                                                   

One day when I was alone

I saw an old barn,in the middle of he field                                     

Looking rundown and so forlorn

The house,once an old homestead

Was gone now after many years

It looked as though it had burnt down

Left behind a chimney of tears

So the barn was really by itself

And I could almost here the sounds

Of what had taken place inside

On this old tried homestead ground

Like I said. it was decapitated

One door hanging by a single nail

Oh I know this huge tired building

Had many interesting stories to tell

The smell was a musky dustiness

From the fields fertile at one time

But that was probably long ago

When they were in their prime

It was then that I noticed

A mother cat with wide eyes

Her kittens cuddled close to her

It was a startling sweet surprise

For this barm was still providing

A place for life to dwell

I smiled then with happiness

My eyes began to swell

So even though it appears

That old barns are no longer of use

We never know what nestles

Beneath its tattered roof ! 

 The little things,perhaps the past. perhaps the now,      ,

perhaps even the future,linger deep within ones mind quick  traffic cut=off,a sharp reply,not a smile,                                          

we rage on!

Deploy the thoughts,and downright beasts,

for me the ducks and barb wire,

send me into a frenzy,like the missile heading for the moon!

One day at a time ,dear Lord,grant me patience,

Please,God, hurry. Seems to come real slow'

You speak before you think,speak before you think,

To learn when to hush,like in radio,we would say,if you want to be a good announcer,shut-up

the truth is,very,silence is golden and should be more,we like to speak as mankind,see thats what makes us different,

from all the other creatures on this earth,ask Pat Robertson,

often we explore it a bit to much and ones foot is in the mouth,

in my case its a Bigfoot!©CJF 

 Ring,ding,klank as I rub the eyes

Early herdsman,warning villagers   

release you cattle,here I come,

to take them to pasture for the day.

I heard the greyhounds yelping,

the cats are meowing from fresh milk

fed to them by the milkers!

I heard pails thrown against the walls

In anger ,perhaps,at some cow

not co-operating in giving milk!

I would hear the horses jostling ,and having a dust bath,

People yelling instructions to their cows

to behave ,quit swishing the tail!

some would see me at the warning run ,

greet me pleasantly;say I was early,

the crows,magpies,sparrows,so busy,

the odd coyote in the outback.

As I approached the village end,cows were grazing

in the ditches,the gas sounds of nature ,blowing in the wind.,the fresh pie

from cows ,tip toe gently,like hop scotch.,miss them though!

I would herd them to the dugout

for a good gulp of water,big burp,fart and ready to go,

to the pasture to feed, and laze around and gossip,

about the mean milkers and herdsman!!!!!    ©CJF 

   Kiklink ,clang the diesel runs                                              

the doors are banging shut

I hear the garbage cans opening and closing

the driver ,impatient,yells,hurry,I;ll be late

Am coming yells the lady as the doors bang  shut.

I hear motorbikes,rumbling and revving

the sounds of hustle and bustle

all going somewhere in a hurray. 

the sound of lonesome dogs,left to fend. 

police sirens,skate board s at the church steps,

kids crying in pain. teenagers swearing and doping.

I hear less nature,I hear no silence! 

I smell rubber  burning,from impatient drivers!! ©cjf