By James E. Kerns

Fall 2005

 

It had been a long winter.  The snow was finally gone, and grass was making the neighbor’s field green.  But on the side of the fence where the cows were, the ground still looked brown and barren.  Grass was trying to grow there, too, but the cows kept every blade nipped off right at ground level.

The cows had been eating dry hay all winter long.  They were tired of it.  They wanted fresh, green grass.  They longed to be able to take big mouthfuls of tender grass, but all they could get on their side of the fence was just the hint of a taste as they kept it grazed right down to the ground.

A big black cow with a white face, named Ruth, stood and looked longingly at the green field on the other side of the fence.  She just couldn’t stand it any more.  Here she was in this brown field eating the dry hay that the man came and gave them every day, when right across the fence was that delicious-looking grass.  It wasn’t fair.  It wasn’t right.  She had to have some of that grass!

Ruth set out to find a way.  First she went up the fence, all the way to the top of the field.  Then she paced the fence clear back down to the bottom.  There she found what she was looking for.  There was a place there where the wires were sagging a little, and were looser than anywhere else in the fence.  This was the spot.

Ruth stuck her head through the wires and took a bite of the grass.  It was good.  She took another bite, and another.  She grazed down all of the grass that she could reach.  When she could reach no more, she pushed harder against the fence.  The harder she pushed, the looser the wires became.  She lifted a front foot and put it through the fence.  Then she put the other foot through.

With the front part of her body through the fence, it was an easy matter for the rest to follow.  Before she knew it, Ruth was standing in the grass on the other side of the fence happily grazing off big mouthfuls of succulent, green grass.  She ate until she could eat no more.

Ruth felt good.  This was the happiest day of her life.  She’d had all the grass she could eat.  Now it was time to find her calf and feed him.  She lifted her voice and called.      He answered right away, and came running toward the sound of her moo.  “What a good, obedient baby,” she thought, and walked over to the fence to meet him.

Here a problem presented itself.  She and her calf couldn’t get together.  He was hungry, and she was getting desperate to be nursed; but he was on one side of the fence, and she was on the other.  What was to be done?

Ruth prided herself on being smarter than the other cows.  Hadn’t she been smart enough to get through the fence into the grass?  The other cows had seen her over there grazing, and had walked up and down the fence trying to find a way to get through, too, but hadn’t been successful.  Now, however, Ruth wanted to be back through the fence so that she could feed her calf, and she didn’t know how to get there.  She may have been smarter than the other cows, but she wasn’t smart enough to figure out how to undo the problem she’d created.

Ruth stayed in the neighbor’s field for hours.  Occasionally she’d graze some more grass, but mostly she just wanted to be back with her calf.  She mooed a lot to try to get her calf to come through the fence, but he couldn’t do it, either.  Ruth got more and more uncomfortable.

Every afternoon the man came to feed the cows.  He was right on time today.  When he pulled into the field with his load of hay, he saw Ruth on the other side of the fence.  She saw the hay that he had, and wished even more that she was back with the herd.

The man rolled all the bales of hay off his truck and fed the cows.  Then he went to the gate that opened into the field where Ruth was, and drove her through it so that she was back where she belonged.  He made a mental note to remember to bring fencing tools the next day so that he could fix the fence.  Ruth’s calf ran to her and happily nursed.  Ruth ate some hay, and was happy, too.  It had been a good day.  Ruth was content.

The next morning Ruth was not content any more.  She was hungry.  There was that green field across the fence where she’d had such a good time yesterday.  She wanted some more grass, and she knew how to get it.  Ruth left the herd, marched down the fence, and in a few minutes was standing ankle deep in green grass again.

This day was a repeat of the last.  She ate her fill, wanted her calf, couldn’t get back through the fence, waited for the man, and was happy when he put her through the gate.

The man had forgotten his fencing tools, and made another mental note to bring them.

The third day was like the others.  Ruth got herself into the green field, ate her fill, wanted her calf, couldn’t get back through the fence, and waited for the man to rescue her.  This day, though, when the man came, he looked at her disgustedly and said, “Fool cow, if you want to be over there so badly, you can just stay there!  We’ll see how smart you feel tomorrow.”  He fed the other cows, who ate ruthlessly, and then he left.

Ruth couldn’t believe it.  Why hadn’t the man seen her?  She wanted to eat some hay.  Why didn’t he put her through the gate?  How was she going to feed her calf?  Her udder was so full that it was starting to hurt.  Ruth trotted up and down the fence, but she found no way to get back to where she wanted to be.

Ruth stayed in the green pasture for another 24 hours.  She was miserable the whole time, and desperate by the time the man came again the next day.  When he put her through the gate she was so grateful that she vowed she’d never go through the fence again.

But the next morning Ruth again looked longingly at the green grass on the other side of the fence, and marched straight down to the place where the wires sagged.  She’d already forgotten her vow.

The man hadn’t forgotten his fencing tools, though.  The fence was fixed.  The wires didn’t sag any more.  Ruth searched and paced, and paced and searched; but there was no way to get through the fence.

The cow had to keep her vow.

 

 

Moral:  We can either make ourselves be good, or others will do it for us.