End of the Season

I turned seventy in June.

Over the last couple of years, I have come to realize that time is flying by me.

How else can I explain that we are five days into November.

America’s most overlooked holiday, Thanksgiving, will be here in eighteen days.

And out on US 360 east near Burkeville, Virginia, the Country Basket at Sunny Slope Orchard will be shutting down for the season on November 15.

On our drives back from visiting our oldest daughter and her family in Summerfield, North Carolina, the Country Basket has become a regular stop for my wife and me.

In the late spring, we stop for strawberries, summer— peaches and assorted vegetables, and fall— apples and sweet potatoes.

The manager/owner, Jonathan, understands the importance of quality customer service, and he knows the story behind every fruit and vegetable he sells.

My guess is wherever you live, you might have a Country Basket, or a farmer’s market that you frequent. To me, there is nothing like the crunch of a fresh apple and the baked richness found in a sweet potato.

On Saturday, November 4, we stopped at the Country Basket. I pried my stiff body out of the car. Slowly, I walked over to the worn, but steadfast building.

Except for baskets of Pink Lady apples and a couple of large wooden crates holding soil coated sweet potatoes, the small store was almost bare. This was a sharp contrast to the peak of the seasonal harvests that farmers and their families put their hearts and souls into for us.

I grabbed a bag, and picked out some sweet potatoes from one of the crates. The chalky dust from the soil where the potatoes were grown stuck to my fingers.

I picked up a small basket of Pink Ladies with their skin of green and red hues. I wonder what a paint namer might call these nature created colors—maybe checker board red or tarty green.

As I checked out, I asked Jonathan if this year of selling had been a good one, and he acknowledged that it had been.

I asked what he does during the off season.

He quickly responded, “I’m going to sleep for two weeks.” But then he added, “I do tax work during the off season.”

I know from my college friend, Dan Callow, how hectic tax season can be for an accountant. I imagine Jonathan will need another two weeks of sleep after filing all those income tax forms.

I thanked him for being here on our drives back to Richmond, and walked back to the car.

On the drive back, my mind wandered to Monday, October 30. That’s when the church office was notified of the unexpected death of Mike Eunice.

Mike and his wife, Ridley, were at their river home. On this beautiful October morning, Mike was mowing the yard. He collapsed and died. Mike’s seasons of living had come to an end.

Deep inside, I was crushed. Mike was only 79. He still had lots of life to give to this old world.

Over the years, I had gotten to know Mike. I have never forgotten his mission moment when he shared with our congregation his experiences from a mission trip grounded in home repairs. That was Mike’s forte—anything related to building.

Mike was one of our Trustees for the church. He had a curious heart and inquisitive eyes related to Trustee projects. This past summer, he led the installation of new cabinets in the Welcome Center.

He found the best price on the cabinets, and coordinated the delivery. With his friend, David Priest, one of his partners in the aptly named Pro Bono Construction, the basic installation was completed with professional precision. And, Mike carefully oversaw the selection and challenging placement of the countertop too.

In working with Mike, it was very clear that he was a people person. Mike was connected.

When we needed a pew resized from the renovation of our Chapel, Mike knew the right carpenter to call. In a matter of minutes, this master craftsman had made the difficult cut.

The completion of these projects put a smile on Mike’s face and heart.

If you are a people connector, that means a person is willing to give of their time to others, and that was part of Mike’s make up.

A couple of years ago, Mike took the time to meet with me and a roofing contractor. The roof at our house needed replacement. Mike’s experience and expertise guided my wife and me through that process.

And in Mike’s quiet, humbleness, he served our country as an Air Force Captain during the Vietnam War. At some point during his time in southeast Asia, Mike was awarded the Bronze Star Medal.

Hopefully, next spring, Jonathan will reopen the Country Basket. With a bit of luck, the quiet fields of the farmers will slowly come back to life, and the bins at the store front will be replenished with fruit and vegetables.

We never know when our season of living in this crazy old world will come to an end.

Yes, Mike’s heart gave out on him.

But, I’ll never forget how his heart gave to me and countless others in his season of living.