When I was growing up, my parents insisted that Labor Day was a holiday set aside for families to catch up on big work projects. So instead of a barbecue or day at the beach, we got up early and spent the day cleaning the garage… or the backyard … or painting the kitchen. I’m not sure whether my mom and dad really believed that version of Labor Day or they just knew how much work a gullible pack of kids could accomplish in one day, but that interpretation has stuck in my mind.
Yesterday was Labor Day, and I labored. I scrubbed and vacuumed the house… I planted a winter garden… I laid out my next book.
Mom and Dad, I hope I made you proud!
But I’m pooped! Today I’m going to grill a hamburger and relax.
Take rest; a field that has rested gives a bountiful crop.