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Cowboy Charity

My friend Mick is a cowboy and a rancher from Wyoming. He shared a story with me that really got me. A perspective that I want you to hear.

He spoke of the spring of the year in Wyoming when the mother cows were brought down to the desert pastures to calf. And depending on age and condition, the cows would be sorted and tended. The young first calf heifers were the ones that needed the most attention. They often had the most trouble in delivery. As they neared delivery, Chris, the cattle foreman and his crew of men would sort them out and bring them into the sheltered calving stalls. The men would rotate shifts, watching over those young heifers night and day to be there when they delivered. Many of them indeed needed help delivering that first calf, and sometimes, the calf would be lost and sometimes even the cow would be lost in the delivery. Speaking of Chris, the foreman, Mick said “I saw this young cowboy jumping with joy over saving a calf and then weeping when a calf was lost or born dead”.

Chris would actually set up a trailer out in the desert in order to be closer to the cows where, day and night, he would ride the heard looking for that lone cow off by herself to give birth. He checked the brush where they would often hole up and sometimes. He was there. And if a predator threatened the cows or the baby calves, Chris and his men stood between them and the predators.

When the calving season ended, cowboys would then take the heard up to the lush mountain pastures where the calves would feed and grow fat. Of that time, Mick said:

“When fall approaches, the aspen leaves turn, covering the mountain slopes with a brilliant yellow. The mountain maples pop with their red crimson leaves, the air is clear and across the canyon is heard the shrill bugle of the elk, all signs of an approaching seasonal change in the unavoidable onset of winter. Cattle are rounded up, brought down off the mountain to the birthplace, calves are sorted away from the mothers and trucked off to market. As the ranch manager, this is an exciting time where the ranch receives its paycheck by selling the calves. As the auction proceeds, these beautiful calves enter the arena, the cattle brokers begin their bids, I look over at my cattle foreman Chris. He’s in tears, looking over at me, he indicates he can’t stay and he leaves the auction.”

Why? I asked. Why is Chris the cowboy in tears and can’t stay?

Mick concluded with this powerful lesson. He said:

“I never eat the steak or any meat without thanking God for the sacrifice our animals make on our behalf. I also thank God for good cowhands who love their animals and the environment. I’m proud to be a part of this great cowboy heritage.”

I can’t tell you how profoundly grateful I am that this lifestyle was once part of me, it’s part of my heritage as well.

Sacrifice brings forth the blessings of heaven. One of those greatest blessings is love. What we sacrifice or who we sacrifice for, we love. That is in part what the Lord Jesus meant when He said: “I have graven thee on the palms of my hands”.