My sister and I have both moved over a thousand miles away in opposite directions from our hometown. Several years back the family farm had to be sold as there was no one left in the area that could take over its operation. This farm, consisting of quite a large acreage, fishing pond and a hill that overlooked the surrounding area, had been in the family for over one hundred years and had weathered everything from Kansas tornados to the Klu Klux Klan. Needless to say it was extremely hard for my sister and I to see the farm pass out of the family’s hands; tears were shed aplenty. Thankfully the person that bought the farm stated they would not be selling it off into sections which would eventually end up as cookie cutter suburbs; instead he intended to preserve and restore the farm to its former glory. He has remained true to his word, to the point of returning the large farm house which once had a wrap around porch to its original design. While life’s commitments don’t allow my sister and I to visit the family farm as often as we would like, it’s comforting to know that it will still be there to visit when we can get away. Until then, it’s never far away in heart.