Author: Emmahenning

Mama. For 23 years I’ve had the joy of calling you Mama. Today is your day. The nation calls it Mother’s Day but the Lord also knows it as your birthday. In all your giving ways, Mama, this is a gift to you. Thank you!

Thank you for being in my corner. Every. Single. Day.

Thank you for showing the boys and me how to have a spiritual relationship with our creator.

Thank you for raising me in all things outdoors.

Thank you for letting the boys and me follow our hearts in where they called us and continue to call us.

Thank you for the most amazing childhood. I will treasure the memories forever.

Thank you for giving us everything you could possibly give the boys and me and more.

Thank you for showing me what it takes to be a successful farm wife and mother.

Thank you for always answering your phone. Even when I don’t need anything. I just want to hear your voice.

Thank you for all the hours put into helping with 4-H projects. I miss those days.

Thank you for instilling in me the love of gardening.

Thank you for loving Dad. I know that’s a tough one some days. 😉

Thank you for bringing out the true magic every Christmas season.

Thank you for forgiving me for the hurtful things I said in the hard years of my adolescence. I will always be sorry for those.

Thank you for always having an open door to home when I need some grounding from the busy, outside world.

But most of all Mama, thank you for ALWAYS loving me without a shadow of a doubt. My thank you’s could so easily go for miles. I appreciate you more than you’ll ever know. Today is your day and in all the things I missed, Mama, thank you. I love you.

Happy Mother’s Day and Happy Birthday.

For my brother, Seth, on his 26th birthday.

I grew up idolizing my brothers. They were perfect, and in my eyes they all still are in their own ways. When I think about the best writer in my family, Seth is the first to come to mind. Let me show you why.

The following is a short story Seth wrote at the age of 12 years old, titled My Favorite Place.

My Favorite Place

My favorite place is where the sun shines, the animals play and the wind whistles through the trees. It is a small farm where I live.

I sit in the trees and watch squirrels gather acorns for the harsh winter to come. I glance around and spot about ten lambs jumping and prancing around full of life and energy.

I walk the harvest fields and watch as the deer graze. They spot me and gracefully scramble away.

I glance into the barn as a mother sow walks to her nest of crowded piglets. The piglets will be my fair pigs.

I ramble around, breathing the farm fresh air. I reach the old river. A beaver family collaborated to create a dam.

This is my favorite place to go when I’m feeling down. This is my home.

Seth has a greater understanding of how to put your heart on pen and paper than I will ever truly know. Today, Seth works as a welder in his business, Wilson Welding Company, with a competitive drive and creative imagination, while becoming a dad this year. When he does write, whether it’s cards, letters, or a simple text, its the simplest, purest form of writing that touches you. The kind of writings you need and long to hear.

For you, my idol.  I love you. Happy Birthday.

On what would of been your 89th birthday. We miss you, we love you, we’ll see you soon. The following is the eulogy written to lay Grandpa to rest one year ago. A remembrance of a farmer, a hero, and our family patriarch.

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For those of you that don’t know me, I’m Emma and I’m the youngest grandchild of Grandpa and Grandma Wilson.

I just want to start by saying that I along with the rest of his grandchildren are extremely blessed to have had over 20 years to spend with him that we will forever cherish. We idolized, learned and grew to love him for his genuine compassion for people and love of farming.

There are many wonderful times I had with him and I just want to highlight the things that showed me who he was, the things he taught me, and the love he had in his heart.

As I grew up a Wilson, I learned that Grandpa was a man a few words, but that was okay because we had enough talkers in the family anyway.  But the few times he did speak, he meant what he said with true sincerity. Grandpa led by example, never TELLING us how we should live our lives but SHOWING how we should live our lives with purity, realness and respect for ourselves and others.

One of the times I saw how Grandpa was perceived to people in our small community was a conversation I had with an older gentleman just this last summer at our sweet corn stand here in Guthrie. Having the Wilson last name I find we’re always getting the question “now which Wilson do you belong to?” I said Keith and Alane are my parents and he didn’t really act like he knew them and I noticed he was probably a gentleman around my Grandpa’s age so I said Well Wayne and Eloise are my grandparents. And he looked up at me and said “ohh, yes I know Wayne.” He smiled really big at me, took me by my hand and said “you’re a good one.” And I replied with thank you and let the gentlemen get on his way. After he left, I thought,  yeah I think I am good one. To be lucky enough to have him as my Grandpa, I think I am a good one.

Now this was after Grandma and Grandpa moved into town and where I felt like I was was able to spend more time with him. He finally seemed to slow down and couldn’t go escape on his 4-wheeler. Since Grandpa wasn’t much of a talker I decided I’ll just read to him, so I would read him Wallace’s Farmer and Iowa Farmer Today and other ag publications but I never felt like anything I was reading was very connecting with us. My dad gave me this idea of bringing this book into him and reading to him, which I thought yeah I’ll give it a go.

Now this book is entitled Fred and Emma Wilson and it was a book written by Grandpa’s cousin Agnes in 1984. What it is, is a compilation of Grandpa’s family history starting with his grandparents, Fred and Emma. So Grandpa knew just about everybody in this book and as I started to read it to him I started asking questions. He started talking more about who these people were, what they were like and where they were now. Grandpa was continuing to teach me things years after him and grandma moved off the farm. I was learning who I was and where I came from.

Now on this page in the book, in the top photo is a picture of his parents and the bottom picture is a family picture with his parents, his older sister Louis, and his younger brother Fred. And when I turned to this page, Grandpa started to cry. I felt pretty bad thinking I shouldn’t have done this, but you know I think it was okay. He needed to see their picture. They all had made their trip home and he had been missing them and he had been missing them terribly. So it fills my heart with joy to know that Grandpa has made it home with them and is seeing them again after quite some time away.

One of the last things I want to say about Grandpa was just this last week. I had walked in to to see him as I knew he was headed home soon. Grandma was there and I said hello to Grandma and gave her a hug and I sat down next to Grandpa and I took him by the hand and I said “hi Grandpa” just like I had done 100 times before. And with a faint voice he looked at me and said “hi.” That was the last time Grandpa had spoken to us after months of being his quiet self. And that is something I will hold onto and cherish until I see him again because he didn’t say goodbye, he was saying hi for the next time I will be seeing him.

Now I hope when I say this I am saying this on behalf of my cousins and aunts and uncles that were close with him when I say that Grandpa was kind of the icon and symbol of our family. Someone who we all seeked to be like and I think if I can strive to live my life with the peacefulness, grace and respect with the way Grandpa did, I will have a true, meaningful, successful experience here on this earth.

And this last thing I want to leave you with is something I’ve shared with friends and family in hopes that it would help us with missing him and I hope it will help those of you who will be missing him too.

Its titled I’ll Be Seeing You.

I’ll be seeing you…

Grandpa, I’ll be seeing you in all the things you loved.

I’ll be seeing you in the wobble of a newborn calf. in dust kicked up from your ole McCormick. in the essence of your mama’s rosebush. in the sway of ready to mow hay. in the tending of the gardens. in the sunsets cast upon the pond. in the coolness of the creek beneath your home. in the calmness of the pastures where so much time was spent. in the Fred and Emma Wilson book I read to you. In my dreams.

And someday, Grandpa, I’ll be seeing you at home and I can’t wait to see the farm you’ve built up there for us. How lucky I am to have a perfect guardian angel. I love you. I’ll be seeing you.

“Don’t judge each day by the harvest you reap but by the seeds you plant.” –Robert Louis Stevenson

I knew this day would come eventually. Moving into the dorms in the fall of 2014, the year 2018 seemed like a lifetime away. Yet, everyone I met and those who’d gone through college said these would be the fastest four years of your life. They were so right.

I remember that humid August day like yesterday. Dad drove the family’s 1997 Ford Expedition the hour and a half to Ames, packed with way more things than I needed. The same vehicle, my parents bought brand new when I was two years old, took us on family vacations to Yellowstone, Glacier National Park, and visits to family across the country. That day, however, the tan, rusting out vehicle was moving me from Hillcrest Farms to a 14′ x 12′ dorm room in Ames, Iowa.

I missed the farm. That first semester was the toughest but I wasn’t about to leave my dream school. I knew Danni, who would be my roommate for what we decided as the next four years, and we helped one another with the homesickness. We were equally an hour and a half from home, then what seemed like a forever trip.

The more time I spent in Ames, though, the more I grew past the missing farm part as I found I could make my way home whenever I needed farm fresh air or a sloppy puppy kiss. I started to fall in love with campus, clubs, my friends, internships, and after much persistence from him, Ross too.

The people are what for an adventure at Iowa State University. The friends who keep you up all night to study or a simple heart to heart and the professionals who believe in you and push you towards success.

I can’t reminisce on my last four years without touching on my one of a kind internship experiences and the lifelong mentors who’ve helped mold me into the Emma Wilson today. From published pieces and growing my network of industry professionals, internships gave me so much more than college classes could really offer.

From my start at the Iowa Department of Agriculture and Land Stewardship, to Prairie Rivers of Iowa, the Coalition to Support Iowa’s Farmers, to the ISU CALS Communication Office, I’ve found a friend or mentor at every place teaching me and pushing me to become better in every aspect of ag journalism. I’ll keep my memories close of traveling the state of Iowa, meeting and networking with so many consumers, industry professionals, and farm families so near and dear to my heart.

As I wrapped up my very last internship today, I’m going to miss the Successful Farming team who have opened countless doors for me. They’ve shaped me into a better writer and professional, giving me the courage to chase my dreams. Caring so much about my own success, they kept me on as their apprentice when I didn’t have a full-time position. Their advice and endless opportunities to publish pieces of work has awarded me the confidence and renewed my love of working with and for farm families. For any student longing to become an exceptional agricultural journalist, Successful Farming is the place to learn from the best! Check out my time and work at SF here.

For the last few weeks, I’ve been packing up my apartment I’ve called home for the past three years to open another unknown chapter. Books, photos, all memories of an incredible four years that went by in the blink of an eye.

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I’ll genuinely miss Ames, my friends, the constant fun atmosphere, my mentors, and so many more things. But I also know that by the seeds I’ve planted these past years, I’ll continue to learn and reap harvests far more than I deserve.

As for now? My love for agriculture and appreciation for writing continues as the publications manager at the Iowa Corn Growers Association as well as I’m excited to see where freelancing opportunities take me. Stayed tuned for the next chapter!

A sincere thank you to my mentors, friends, farmers, and most of all my family for being my biggest supporters. Thank you for pushing me to succeed and believing in me when I didn’t believe in myself. 

The following is a short essay I wrote in my favorite class at Iowa State: Advanced Agricultural Communications.

It’s in all of us. That feeling you have when you feel a sense of belonging to a
place that you can always return to. As humans we long for a sense of peace, comfort, and solitude and within our existence, are lucky to find it. Farmers find it early in life and though they are hard workers who take profound care of animals and crops on the farm, there’s more to farms than what meets the eye. I wish people knew that my family farm is more than a farm.

Hillcrest Farms sits atop one of the gently rolling hills of southwestern Iowa. Here is where I was born and raised. At the age of two months old, I owned my first pig and though I had won it at a sale, she was mine. Eight years old is when I had to take Piggy to market. I still remember the feeling I had as she boarded the trailer, never to return to home. She had produced over 16 litters averaging 11 piglets per litter for Hillcrest Farms. Although I was heartbroken to let her go, I knew it was okay. Growing up, I came to understand what the circle of life was at a young age. Everything lives and everything dies, but death with a purpose gives full meaning to life. I wish people could better understand that is how farmers think each year when they plant the next crop and birth the next group of animals. I wish people knew that and maybe they would have a better understanding of life itself.

I wish people knew how grounded the family is to their farms. I never liked wearing shoes. The older I grew, the more I realized I was simply grounding myself to the world I had around me. Farmers do this as well. Each spring they are prepping the land, feeling the soil’s structure and tilth to determine the proper date to plant. In the fall, farmers are quick to grab a handful of their hard earned labor of golden kernels and smooth soybeans simply coming from their grounded world. With all the time and care they put in the land, farmers are only want to better what they truly care about.

Farmers are not only grounded to the nature surrounding them, but to animals as well. I’ll never forget the two weeks my family and I had with a newborn colt. We grew to love the newest member on the farm with big hopes and adorations for his future only to watch it suddenly past. Its grief like this that my family has had that keeps us grounded to our animals.

I wish people knew how much the farm really teaches a farm kid. If Hillcrest
Farms didn’t exist today, I don’t know who I would be. It has shaped me, built me, and will always be a part of me. The farm has allowed me to learn my true passions outside of the classroom. Every kid needs an opportunity at that. Everything I’ve ever learned came from the farm from nailing a nail to a deeper meaning of life. It gave me a connection with my brothers that only we share. I have memories etched in my memory of waking up in the middle of the night with the boys to care for newborn lambs together. That’s what farm families do. They help each other and are there for each other to make the farm the best it can possibly be.

I wish people knew that to families, a farm is everything. From their well being to
the only place they’ll ever call home. A farm produces anything in the world a person wants, but to a farm family, the farm itself is the only thing they need.

The story of my free spirit. 

As a child, I can’t recall a day that was spent inside. So much was to be explored in the fascinating world I had around me. From the abundance of the piglets, to the curious mind Ethan, Jesse, and Seth would instill in me, Hillcrest Farms was a place full of life and grand adventures.

With a mind of my own, I never liked wearing shoes. Barefoot from the garden to the barns is how I liked to go, as an adventure wasn’t much of an adventure if you didn’t have a sense of true freedom.There’s something about being able to feel the crisp spring water in the creek, the fresh-cut lawn, and the soil clenching the beginning of roots of crops beneath your feet that makes you feel truly alive. Shoes had a way of disconnecting me from these God-given graces.

My parents used to joke on the time I stepped on a nail creating a puncture in my little foot. Not long after they found me outside barefoot again, to find a rock making its place inside the little hole. It’s a wonder, today, if I still carry that little rock around with me. My little piece of the farm I like to say.

My soul became etched in a place with so much life. My spirit was being cultivated into the very earth my farming family was planting and harvesting the crops, the vegetables, and the animals we welcomed each year. My fondest memory was tilling the garden in the spring, walking barefoot in the cool, upturned soil. There were few things that could beat that.

As I grew older, I began to realize I was simply grounding myself to the farm. To its dark, rich soils, every crevice on the rocks, and the peaceful animals I cared so deeply for. My every desire was to be outside, fully experiencing and taking in the world I had around me. Every grace encompassing Hillcrest Farms became a part of me. All of these things and so much more shaped me into who I’ve become today and at the age of 22, continues to do so with each visit home.

These ‘adventures’ my brothers and I had, really became experiences of getting to know and understand who we truly are and our reasoning to be here on this earth. Although that is still in question for me, being grounded to Hillcrest Farms taught me essential ways to live a true and meaningful life:

Stay real, stay humble, stay down to earth, but above all, stay grounded.