The Rural Voice, 1982-03, Page 13"I've never heard them say they wished they lived
in town", says Helen Merrifield of Grey County.
use some of it to buy some clothes or a
record." Ross leans more towards books
and recently, a cassette recorder. He's
also into snowmobiling.
Carol has long been active in 4-H, and
this spring she is in her twelfth club. Last
summer for the first time, she worked on
someone else's farm, as an Agri -crew
member. There was a lot of commuting
and some long hours, but she met some
new faces and was introduced to other
methods of farming. In the fall she's
hoping to go to university. After that, who
knows. And Ross, well he's lucky enough
that he doesn't have to worry about
decisions like that just yet.
Huron County certainly isn't the only
place where farm kids pull their weight,
though many others are not as formally
organized as the Mclntoshes.
Wayne and Helen Merrifield run a
cow -calf, hog operation at R.R. 4 Meaford,
in Grey County's Euphrasia Township.
They have one -hundred -and -fifty-five
acres divided among two farms. And, like
many farm families these days, they hold
off -farm jobs as well. Wayne is a constable
with the Meaford Police Department and
Helen a Toronto -Dominion Bank employ-
ee in the same town.
She readily admits they would not be
able to handle it all without the help of
their sons. Scott, fifteen, a grade ten
student at Georgian Bay Secondary School
in Meaford; Stephen, thirteen, who goes
to Meaford Community School; and
eleven -year-old Dale, who attends St.
Vincent-Euphrasia elementary school.
"When Wayne is on four -to -twelve (the
afternoon shift), they can handle the
chores," says Helen. "They do it all; I
never go to the barn."
Scott and Stephen generally look after
the feeding while Dale enjoys cleaning out
pens and stables. After school each day
they "fill up in the kitchen" and then head
for the barn. Their work takes them about
an hour and a half. After supper one of
them goes back our and does a check of the
animals.
On weekends two of the three are
usually around, while the third might be
off playing hockey or broomball, or
snowmobiling. In the summer they help
with bringing in the hay and grain.
"We don't keep them pinned down,"
says Helen. '`They do take part in other
things. But the work around here gives
them some responsibility and an interest
in the place. Scott's in 4-H and Dale is in
the junior calf club. Scott says he wants to
farm but we would like to see him work
away from the farm for a couple of years
before he makes up his mind for sure."
Helen Merrifield is neither rationalizing
nor philosophizing when she talks about
the education she thinks her children are
getting by living and working on the farm.
It's an education that involves everything
from animal husbandry to the environ-
ment and in a sense it's free. But it's not
available to children who grow up in paved
suburbs.
"Our kids have a grandma and grandpa
in town that they can visit and stay with
overnight." says Helen. "And they
sometimes do that."
"The odd time they say they wished
they didn't have to go out and do the
chores, but I've never heard them say they
wished they lived in town."
If numbers count, John and Jean
Groenestege, of R.R. 1 Sebringville,
should know a great deal about kids
working around the farm. On their Perth
County operations they have raised (or are
raising) eight of them. But it has been, and
continues to be a two-way street.
The roster reads like this: Marie,
twenty-seven, married and living in
Stratford; Anne, twenty-five, a secretary
in Calgary; Theresa, twenty-four, an
office -manager in Calgary; Ted, twenty-
three, owns and operates the home farm
(seventy-five acres) after working in
construction for five years; Betty, twenty-
one. married and a hairstylist in Mitchell;
Henry, twenty, working on his parents'
farm; Bob, twelve, in grade seven at St.
Patrick's School, Kinkora; and Frank,
eleven, in grade six at St. Patrick's School.
Kinkora.
The Groenesteges moved to their
original farm in 1958, and switched from a
mixed operation to pork in 1968. When
Ted agreed to buy the home place, mom
and dad bought another farm, one
hundred acres, along the same mail route.
"We were pleased that Ted went back
to farming," says Jean. "If it hadn't been
for the kids we never would have bought a
second farm. Now they (Ted and his
father, along with Henry, Bob and Frank)
work together."
For the Groenesteges the male help was
slow in arriving but when it did they
"always helped in the barn, cleaning pens
and driving tractors." The girls contrib-
uted most by driving machinery during
the haying season. After they were sixteen
or so, they started taking part-time jobs
away from the farm because, as their mom
puts it, "the boys came along." A full time
hired man was never needed.
Jean says her kids were always told
their schooling came first and only rarely
did any of them have to go to the barn in
the morning. Most of their chores were
(and are) done at night and on weekends.
Their mother thinks they all came away
a little better for the experience. "Really,
they learned a trade without trying," she
says. "They learned about animals and
about how to handle equipment."
And they all learned to swim, but that
wasn't on chore time. That was during the
week each summer that the entire family
would pack up and head for a campsite at
the Pinery, -or some place similar. "We
made a point of having holidays," says
Jean. "It was sometimes hectic. Actually
it wasn't much of a holiday for us (mom
and dad) but the kids liked it."
As long as there have been farms, there
have been farm kids. And, while today's
operations and equipment have changed
(progress is the word many like to use),
it's hard to believe that there's been much
of a shift away from what farms
traditionally have been able to instill in
their young. It has to do with hard work
and discipline and a kind of freedom that
may be hard to relate to in these times of
high interest and low prices. The term-
inology may have changed but the
character -building rewards remain the
same.
And the best part of it all — it's an
education that is free from tax. Thus far.
anyway.
THE RURAL VOICE/MARCH 1982 PG. 11