I think of the trips we used to take to PA to see Lancaster County. These trips always involved a few farm excursions, where I (without fail) begged my parents to let me take home a baby goat. They gently explained that a baby goat probably wouldn’t love a colonial home in CT. Oh well.
However, there was something about the nice, clean farms and the vast expanses of farmland that I found very refreshing. It made me want to be productive, just like a farmer; to make something out of nothing. To create from the earth. I also told my parents that I would probably like to be Amish. I dont think I had a good grasp on everything that entailed (me producing 8-12 children is highly unlikely), but I loved the idea of wearing simple, modest clothes, getting up at 4am to make bread for the day, going to church, etc. It seemed like a clean, holy lifestyle. I often grappled with the fact that Catholicism had a lot of “we say this but do this” kind of instances…Now I understand better that actually, every religion has its duplicity and you can lead as pure and holy of a life as you choose. I’m fairly certain that a baby goat would make me about 100x holier, though.