I am from fresh, frothy milk straight from the cow, my dad’s early mornings and late nights on the farm.
From Bob Jones curriculum and Trix cereal as a special treat at Christmas.
I am from rolling hills and sandy valleys, open spaces, fields for miles and the fresh scent of alfalfa in the summer time.
I am from ear corn, bright green turning to brown at harvest as the leaves explode in colors and the combine sits ready for just the right time.
I am from “soup for Christmas” and Hilkemann family stubbornness.
From Paul and Violet, Donald and Lorraine, Mark and Chris; Hilkemanns, Andersons, Severas, Millers.
I’m from Thanksgiving rounds of Spoons and trivia, ice cream cakes for birthdays and summer sleepovers complete with orange sherbet.
I’m from Wednesday night AWANA, tucking verses away in my heart, from Sunday kid’s choir, BRICK class, youth group and praise choruses.
I’m from Nebraska, Germany, Czechoslovakia, Sweden; kolache and potato pancakes, manicotti, and cran-apple juice.
From family vacations to western Nebraska, my mom as my teacher and my dad as the principal. From the land my great-grandpa purchased for all his sons within a few miles of the place I grew up, legacy left in Pierce county soil.
I am from the photo albums filling the buffet in the living room, old birthday cards and baby clothes tucked away in a tote upstairs, stories echoing through the generations.
- Learn more about how to create your own I Am From Poem by heading here.