Out of Decay

Wednesday when I was gathering food supplies, Carla Miller, the pastor’s wife took me to the neighborhood egg farm.  The entrance sign says that the farm started early in the last century.  As we drove through the farm, decay was everywhere.  Collapsed buildings, trash piles, and fallen trees littered the landscape.  Swarms of flies and the smell of excrement filled the air.  The hand-written sign on the side of the safest looking building said, “Farm Fresh Eggs for Sale.”  The question in my mind was, how can there be anything fresh surrounded by this rubble?  as we stepped through the doorway beside the sign a small woman smiled and ask how she could help us.  I found myself unprepared buy.  But, true to Carla’s word, I was invested in the adventure and had not considered how many eggs I needed.  Other customers were waiting.  Finally, I ran four breakfasts times 12 people and guessed five dozen eggs.  Then the clerk made me make another decision.  Did I want flats or cartons?  Carla came to my rescue.  We took flats.  I wanted to look around and enjoy the adventure.  I have to go back again because I did not I did not buy enough eggs.  I am delighted.

That day Carla and I drove through the farm twice once to buy and once for the escapade.

A three foot high toilet?  That is what the sign says.