Breakfast at the table, the family is fed,

Up with the sunrise and out of the bed.

Before one little foot touches the ground,

Before any other voice makes a sound;

He has been out feeding the cows and mending the fence

Taken the feed truck to town, and given it a rinse.

The small voice that calls him by his most favorite name,

“Dada, I go with you!’ These days feedin’ the cows just ain’t been the same.

This little man that calls him Dad, he’s already on the job training,

Driving tractors, feeding cows, even when it’s raining.

Today as he hollered, “Go with Dada to feed cows!” the look of magic in his eyes changed something for me,

being a rancher is hard work, and sacrifice, but there is nothing else he would rather be.

He gets to be a hero to his little man. Whether he’s planting wheat, checking heat, he’s up with the sun, seven days a week.

He’s teaching his boy to be a hard working man.

He’s so thankful this was God’s plan.

To be a rancher, raising cattle, spraying weeds,

Playing on God’s playground, planting seeds.

Every fence row they pass all perfect and neat,

With his little man riding shotgun in the passenger seat.

These moments make up their days on the ranch, those days make up the years,

And those years build a legacy paved with blood, sweat, and tears.

Everyday on the ranch is better than the day it was before,

I pray he and little man get to experience many more.

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