My Friend Frank
by
Sam Loschiavo
"Where are you going, Frank?" I asked.
"Up to the house for a screwdriver."
It was 1947 near the small town of Alix in central Alberta where Frank had a grain farm and raised cattle. I was there visiting Frank and his family during summer vacation and helping on the farm. By 1947 Frank was using a John Deere tractor. He had progressed a light-year from the time of my first visit in 1941 when the source of horse power was a team of four Clydesdale horses. I remember with no regrets getting up at dawn to help get the horses groomed, watered, harnessed and ready for work. But let me get back, or should that be forward, to 1947.
To save some time while Frank went to the house 200 yards away, I picked up the grease gun to lubricate the nipples on the hay rake and get it ready to cut about 80 acres of hay. I began at one end of the rake and while I was working I saw the unlocked tool box at the far end attached to the metal frame. I wondered why Frank hadn't used the screwdriver that was bound to be in the box instead of taking the long trek to the house.
While I was reflecting on this question Frank returned with a screwdriver. My curiosity aroused, I asked him why he would do that if there was one in the tool box on the hay rake. He motioned me to come where he was standing at the far end of the machine. He pointed to the side of the tool box hidden from me. There, at the wooden base to which the tool box was attached was a nest containing four pale blue eggs.
Frank started to remove the screws from the bracket holding the tool box to the frame. He took about 15 minutes to remove four large somewhat rusted screws. Then very slowly and carefully he carried the bracket, base, box and nest to a nearby fence post and screwed the bracket to the post. This took another 15 minutes.
It suddenly dawned on me what Frank had done and I looked at him with admiration. "Frank, most everyone else would have brushed that nest and eggs onto the ground so that they could get that hay rake hitched and ready to go as quickly as possible."
Frank simply remarked, "Thanks for greasing the machine. That sure helps to speed up our haying operation. I'll go get the tractor."
Just before he left, a robin alighted on the fence post, paused a few seconds, hopped into the nest in its new location and settled over the eggs. After a few seconds her more brilliantly coloured mate landed on the fence near the nest and stood guard. Mission accomplished!
I learned a lot from Frank about farming how to operate a tractor around hilly contours, using different kinds of machinery, how to build a haystack and distribute the weight so that it wouldn't topple over. But the most precious and important lesson I learned was about the better side of human nature. As my relationship with Frank grew, I discovered that there were many facets to Frank's diamond character. The experience with the robin's nest was only one of Frank's generous and kind acts that benefitted others. Being the modest, self-effacing person he is, Frank would never brag about his humane acts. He is the kind of person one would want as a friend.
To this day Frank and I maintain our strong bond of friendship. We still keep in touch by phone and letters. I am proud to have such a person as a life-long friend.