Stories, Poems, and Songs from the Heart of an Old Farmer: Dedicated to the glory of Jesus Christ and God's true Word, the Holy Bible

By D. F. Don Cooper

"Dedicated to glory of Jesus Christ and God's True Word, the Holy Bible" is Don's mission statement, and throughout all of his writings, he tells how the Lord has been at his side throughout his whole life. Without His presence, Don could have never done the seemingly impossible things he's done.

This book is a compila

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stratton Press
• Release date: Oct 13, 2020
• ISBN: 9781648952548

D. F. Don Cooper

Don Cooper is a retired dairy farmer who lives with his wife, Ruth, in Fond du Lac County, Wisconsin. They have six children, sixteen grandchildren, and eight great-grandchildren. Don's maternal ancestors were emigrant farmers from Germany. While growing up in Milwaukee, he made many bus trips to their homestead in Washington County, and his love of farming was developed during those trips. Don and Ruth went from milking cows for others to renting a farm to eventually owning one. His writings tell about their struggles as dairy farmers and their faith in God that got them through, and are truly a testament of how the Lord has been at Don's side throughout his whole life. His writings are dedicated to the glory of Jesus Christ and God's true Word, the Holy Bible. He has recorded two gospel CDs that are available on his website, www.fcgmusic.com.

Book preview

My Prayer

Heavenly Father, You great and awesome God,

I sincerely thank You for all the blessings

You have continued to shower upon me.

Thank You for my salvation;

For allowing me to know and love

Your Son, Jesus, for as long as I can remember.

Thank You for your true, Holy Word, the Bible.

Thank You for my grandmother, Sunday School teachers,

Pastors and friends, who instilled its knowledge in my mind.

I asked You for a wife of Your choice;

How can I thank You enough for Your perfect choice?

Father, I asked You to allow me to be a farmer.

You provided a farm, family,

and herd beyond my wildest expectations.

I asked You for children;

You gave us six wonderful individuals.

I prayed for grandchildren and great-grandchildren

to bless our children;

Please send Your Holy Spirit to guide them through life.

I look forward to many more great-grandchildren,

if it is Your wish.

What more can I ask for, than to be what You will

for me to be for the rest of my days.

Help me be a witness to the name and love of Jesus

wherever You send me.

Thank You for a wonderful life.

I look forward to eternity, with You, in Heaven. Amen.

Contents

My Prayer

Listing of Songs

Acknowledgment

My Life Story

My Musical Experiences

The East-West Connection Quartet

Men of Harmony

Lay Ministry

O for the Love of Jesus

A Tribute to Lawrence McElhatton

A Dear Old Friend

Bound for Heaven

Faith

Our Faith

What the Bible Means to Me

The Bible Is the Gateway to Heaven

Who Am I?

Look Up

Did You Ever Wonder What Will Heaven Be Like?

Heaven: Did You Ever Wonder?

My Home in Heaven

Make Me a Fisher of Men

On the Road to Damascus

Peace, on Earth?

Predestined

Show Me Your Ways

Heaven, on Earth?

The Prodigal

A Stranger at Emmaus

Christian Love

Me, Myself, and I

Pain

Jesus’ Gift

Jesus, Our Lord

Jesus Is the Only Way to Heaven

We Have a Friend

My Life with Jesus

Heaven-Bound

The Lord Knows My Wants, He Provides My Needs

He Gave Us Jesus

St. Paul’s Evangelical Lutheran Church and School

St. Paul’s Evangelical Lutheran Church and School

Why, Lord?

The Lord Has Called Them Home

Heaven, Our Home

The Lord’s Prayer

Family and Friends

My Dearest Wife

God’s Heavenly Angels

Sometimes God Sends Angels

Sweet Young Lady

My Dearest, Darling Ruth

My Dearest Ruth, My Valentine

My Favorite Mother

Happy, Happy, Happy Birthday

Sanctity of Life

It’s a Baby, It’s a Life

Thank You for the Children

My Dearest Child

A Father’s Advice

Contemplating Teen

Wedding Song and Prayer

Flying to Alaska

Grandson Andrew and Jenn

Leaving Alaska

The Old Log Cabin

My Mother

Grandma Jonas

Gramma’s Tattered Bible

Grandma and Grandpa Cooper

Happy Golden Anniversary Edie and Fred

Out Home

Out Home

Grandma Jonas’s Old Stories

Christmastime with Grandma Jonas

The Menger-Guenther Sawmill

Salem, the Little Country Church at Wayne

An Unforgettable Christmas

My Mentor, Wimpy

Building That Fence

Holidays

My Very Favorite Meal

The Passion of the Christ

Happy Easter

What Does Thanksgiving Mean to Me?

That Wonderful Time of the Year

A New Beginning

Our Country

A Nation Forsaking Our God

July 4th

We Honor Our Troops and Veterans

Seasons

An Ode to March

Spring 2007

Spring 2008

Springtime on Cooperhaven Farm

Another Night in April of 2008

Standing by the Window

A Small Herd of Yearling Deer

Swallows Leaving the Nest

A Warm Summer’s Morn

A Warm Summer Day

A Summer Walk

Sunset on Mauthe Lake

August Midnight Rain

The End of August

A Fan in the Sky

The Last Day of August

Autumn Equinox 2007

September, the In-Between Season

The Autumnal Woods

From the Top of the Tower at Sheboygan Marsh

Harvest Time 2008

Winter Wonderland

The First Real Storm of the Winter

A Stormy Winter Day

Farming

How a City Boy Became a Farmer

I’ll Be a Farmer One Day

Dairy Farming: Our Way of Life

A Farmer’s Lament

A Dairyman’s Memories

Our Herd Dispersal

The Final Curtain

Life after Farming

Depression

Changing Times

Our Brand-New Homestead

Golden Anniversary Announcement

Our Golden Anniversary

Our Anniversary Celebration

June 24, 2007

Our Christmas Tree in Gramma’s Room

The Demolition of Our Farmstead

A Beautiful Summer Day

What Is Contentment?

Memories

About the Author

Listing of Songs

A Farmer’s Lament

A Father’s Advice

A Stranger at Emmaus

Gramma’s Tattered Bible*†

He Gave Us Jesus†

Heaven-Bound*

It’s a Baby; It’s a Life†

Jesus Is the Only Way to Heaven*

Make Me a Fisher of Men

My Dearest Child†

My Dearest Wife

My Home in Heaven

My Life with Jesus*

O for the Love of Jesus*

On the Road to Damascus

Peace on Earth?

Show Me Your Ways, Lord

Thank You for the Children†

The Lord Knows My Wants, He Supplies My Needs*

Wake Up, America*

We Have a Friend*†

Wedding Song and Prayer

Why, Lord?

*On Don’s album Jesus Is the Only Way to Heaven

†On Don’s album We Have a Friend

Both albums are available through Don’s Farm Country Gospel Music website, www.fcgmusic.com.

Acknowledgment

Above all, I want to acknowledge the most important guide and compass throughout my life. The Lord has been my guide to see me through the challenges that could have been disastrous if not for His watchful presence in every occurrence in my life. I believe that He allows the tough situations to test and teach us and enable us to handle all of life’s tribulations. The Bible has been my handbook, helping me understand His will. He speaks to us as we read and meditate on its content.

My loving wife, Ruth, for her important contribution to our spiritual life from the time we met, for her patience and resolve throughout our marriage, for tolerating my many hours on the computer, and for critiquing my efforts as I pursue my life as a writer. She has been so much more than a wife: my partner, my inspiration, and my sounding board for everything I write—my greatest blessing.

I am also thankful for our six children—Laurie, Daniel, Cindy, Jennifer, Amy, and Christopher, our grandchildren, great-grandchildren, friends, and relatives. My work is a result of parts they have all played in my life.

My daughter, Cindy Midtbo, who compiled, proofread, and formatted this book and helped me get through computer software problems. Her husband, Todd, who helped me with my lack of technology when I’m frustrated by the things my computer does or doesn’t do. Todd has the patience and computer savvy that I will never master, and he, along with my grandson Andrew Evraets, keeps my computers running when I can’t.

The members of my writers club and all the other folks who encouraged me.

Grandma Jonas, for the spiritual guidance I needed as a growing child.

My mentor, Armand Wimpy Mertz, for preparing me for my life as a dairy farmer.

My Life Story

I was born on October 22, 1935, at St. Joseph’s Hospital in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. My dad is John Donald Cooper, and my mom is Catherine Margaret Jonas Cooper. My very first memories are of my young life at 35th and Burleigh in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, where we lived with my grandparents in their home. Grandpa Jonas was a streetcar driver in Milwaukee for his entire working life, and Grandma taught piano until her health started failing. I was Grandpa’s pride and joy; he called me Hans or Hanswurst. I remember him pushing me in a swing hanging from the ceiling when I must have been quite small. Another early memory I have is of him luring a squirrel into our front foyer to feed it. He could be very jovial, but he could also be very mean when he had been drinking. Grandpa Jonas loved his beer and drank a lot of it. He would say nasty things when he had been drinking and was especially nasty to Grandma. I know that life had to be hard then, just after the Great Depression. But Grandpa at least had a dependable job and his own house. My folks on the other hand depended on him to put a roof over our heads.

Grandma was a very sweet, quiet lady. Jesus was an important part of her life, and she tried to impress me with how important He should be in my life too. She tried to interest me in memorizing Bible verses, but I did not have the patience. Her very favorite verse was John 3:16, For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him, should not perish, but have everlasting life. I did memorize that verse, and it has also become my favorite. She had many other verses pencil-shaded in her Bible. I’ve always wished that I could have found that old Bible, but only God knows where it ended up. She also wanted me to learn to speak German and tried her best to teach me. I’ve always regretted not listening to her attempts to educate me.

I never realized how ill Grandma Jonas was. I remember hearing about her heart problems and a number of strokes that she had while I was quite young. They must have been rather small strokes, however, because she did manage to live with her problems for some time.

She was the one who always took me to church and to Sunday School. I remember well, sitting with her in church and hearing her singing hymns and trying to encourage me to sing along. She was trained in music, but I don’t remember her having a particularly strong or memorable singing voice. The first minister I remember was Reverend Knaatz. I think he was a rather small but fiery speaker. I remember people talking about him preaching like a fire engine. Maybe he talked fast, but I think they were referring to his fire and brimstone style of preaching. Grandma was intent on my attending Mission House College some day and becoming a preacher like Reverend Knaatz.

Christmas was Grandma’s special time. The tree was a work of art. Under the tree, she would arrange her menagerie. Animals, little houses, all kinds of little people, even ice skaters on mirrors carefully tucked in sheets and cotton. There was always a mountain made of clinkers under and around the base of the tree and a herd of mountain goats and sheep carefully placed on the Clinker Mountains. I loved to let my imagination take me right inside those villages and mountains. The horses were my favorites to play with.

I have nice memories of Grandma taking me to Sherman Park, only one and a half blocks from home, playing on the swings, slides, and teeter-totters with my next-door girlfriend, Marlene Leonard. I remember the street vendors coming around with horse-drawn carts, selling pots and pans, sharpening knives; the ragpickers shouting, Rrrrraggs! Rrraaggs!; and the photographer who came around with his pony and cowboy gear that kids could wear to have their picture taken. Most of the home deliveries were made with horse-drawn carts or wagons: the milkman, the iceman (we had an ice box before refrigerators became affordable), the garbage men came with big side-dumping wagons pulled by two or four horses.

The horses awed me, and I remember going to the horse barns where the garbage-collecting horses were kept. Whenever Grandma’s youngest bachelor brother, Uncle Eddie, came from Allenton to visit us, he would take me to the horse barns and admire the horses with me. Uncle Eddie was very hard of hearing and didn’t talk much, but when he did talk, he always shouted. And he ate his morning Wheaties with no milk or sugar on them—yuck!

During this time period, I developed a little brother–big sister relationship with Joan Sherman, the daughter of Mother’s dearest friend Aunt Marge Sherman. Joan was a little older than me, and I really thought of her as if she were my sister. Joan shared my love for horses, and she had lots of little horse figurines that I enjoyed playing pretend with along with her. She took me to Sherman Park, to the movies, and did all kinds of things big sisters might do with little brothers. I remember one night we were supposed to be sleeping together, and Joan decided that we should explore our physical differences (I think it was her idea). I couldn’t wait to share my newfound knowledge with Mom, Dad, and Grandma at the breakfast table the next morning. I remember their reaction at my revelation. Joan was horrified; I didn’t understand her embarrassment, and things were never quite the same between us after that fateful morning.

Going Out Home to the Mertz and Menger farms at Wayne was always something I looked forward to. The Mertz farm was the home of Grandma’s sister, Tante Alma, who was married to Uncle Armand Mertz. Their children where Arlene, Wimpy, and Anita. Anita had polio when she was a child and had to wear a brace in order to walk. Wimpy’s real name is also Armand. He received the nickname Wimpy, I was told, because of a voracious appetite for hamburgers, like the popular cartoon character in Popeye.

The Menger farm was Grandma’s childhood home and was just up the road from Mertz’s farm. The ride there seemed to be endless, but whenever we got there, I was in Heaven. The cows, pigs, chickens, and my real love, the horses—oh how I looked forward to seeing them all. I never had the nerve to tell Grandma, but her preacher boy was undoubtedly cut out to be a farmer. That decision was made at about the age of five and grew stronger each day of my young life. I was really in my glory when my hero, Wimpy, would let me take the reins after the harnesses were placed on the horses, Nellie and Fannie, and he would let me think I was driving them to whatever implement they would be hitched to that day. Then he would let me sit on his lap and drive them to the field (or at least I thought I was in command). I couldn’t wait until I would be old enough to drive and work those horses myself. Little did I know at the time that by the time I would be old enough, the horses would be history and I would be driving tractors instead of horses. I’ve always regretted missing out on the horse age, but at least I did get to see it.

My life between the ages of six and ten was one sickness after another; it seemed to me I was either in a hospital or confined to bed. Just name the childhood disease, I would get it. The worst that I recall is rheumatic fever and spinal meningitis. I was informed, to my horror, that my sickness left me with an enlarged, unhealthy heart, which would make it impossible for me to do any physical activity, much less to become a farmer. My mother, on the other hand, seemed to delight in making a kind of spectacle of me. She seemed to thrive on taking me to doctors, nurses, and hospitals and finding people to sympathize with my symptoms. I absolutely hated what I felt she was putting me through. One of the good things that happened during the time was that I had to wait to get into a special needs school, and I was sent temporarily to a Lutheran grade school. I really loved learning about Jesus and reading the Bible each and every day in school.

Around this time, we moved to a house Grandpa purchased at 92nd and Slinger. It was a house that required a lot of repairs. Dad was a real handyman and fixed it pretty thoroughly. It was sold, and we moved to another handyman special at 92nd and Wilbur, where I spent most of my adolescent years. While living there, I was transferred to the school with all the sick kids. I really hated it. I especially felt sorry for the ones who had polio and wondered how long it would be before my heart condition would make a cripple out of me. But I never felt like I really belonged in that type