A Family for the Farmer by Laurel Blount Page A

huge blue ribbon tacked on to the side of the pedestal. “First place at the Georgia National Fair? That’s impressive.”
    â€œYeah, well.” Abel felt embarrassed. “I’m generally not much for contests, but your grandma badgered me into it.” He fingered the satin ribbon gently. “I guess you think it’s kind of prideful keeping it tacked up like that, but nobody comes in here much but me. It’s the first thing I ever won.”
    â€œYou have every right to be proud of it, Abel. It’s wonderful!”
    He watched uncomfortably as she read the newspaper article he’d pinned up next to the ribbon. He’d kept that, too, because it was the first time a Whitlock had ever made the front page of the Pine Valley Herald for anything that wasn’t a felony. God had done some mighty things in Abel’s life, and this little corner reminded him of them. That was why he’d held on to the buck, even when people offered him crazy money for it. Whenever Abel looked at it, he felt a wave of gratitude and a fresh determination to use whatever talent he had to draw people’s attention to the beauty God had sprinkled all around them. He had no words to explain that to Emily, though, and he worried that she’d think he was stuck on himself keeping all this out on display.
    But that wasn’t the only reason he’d just as soon she didn’t look too hard at that article. The reporter had insisted on a photo of Abel standing next to the carving. Miss Sadie had hooted when she saw it. “The next time somebody points a camera at you, sonny, smile! You look like somebody just poked you with a stick.”
    â€œLook, Mama! It’s our cow!” Abel felt a surge of relief as Phoebe called from across the room. “Come see!”
    He followed as Emily walked over to the shelf her daughter was pointing to. When she saw what was on it, she glanced up at him and smiled. The animals of Goosefeather Farm marched along in miniature, one after the other. Beulah was there tossing her head, Glory had her neck and wings outstretched and Newman the tiny rooster had his feathers ruffled out. The rough shape of a goat was laid on its side next to the others, unfinished.
    â€œI was making this set for your grandmother’s birthday.” He picked up the incomplete carving, weighing it in his hand. “I haven’t had the heart to work on it since...lately.”
    Emily shook her head slowly. “Oh, Abel. It’s too bad. Grandma would have loved them.”
    â€œCan I play with the little animals?” Phoebe asked hopefully.
    â€œThey aren’t toys,” Emily began, but Abel interrupted her smoothly.
    â€œOf course you can, sweetheart. Here.” He gathered the carvings up and handed them to Phoebe. She plopped happily down on the floor and began to chatter to herself as she moved the animals around.
    â€œIf Pheebs can play with that, can I play with this chess set?” Paul looked longingly at the intricately carved board and pieces that were set enticingly at his eye level.
    â€œPaul just started learning how to play,” Emily explained with a nervous smile.
    â€œSure. Help yourself. Your mom and I are going to have a cup of coffee, and I want to try some of this bread that smells so good.”
    â€œWe won’t be long,” Emily repeated as he led the way over to a little table with a coffeemaker. The carafe was already half-full of inky liquid, and he took two of his mismatched mugs from the nearby cupboard and poured them each a cup.
    â€œStay as long as you like. You’re not bothering me,” he said, motioning for her to sit down on the bench that was pushed up against the log wall. He peeled up the foil that covered the plate and took a piece of the apple bread.
    It tasted every bit as wonderful as it smelled. He closed his eyes and shook his head in appreciation as he chewed. “This is good. Really, really