The Sad Little Tractor


| July/August 1979



Johnny is a 1935 John Deere AR

Dan and Nan Wilcox with Johnny AR (Johnny is a 1935 John Deere AR).

Nancy Wilcox

The morning air was rather crisp but the scent of spring was in the air and it had promise of being a pleasant day. The trees were budded and the grass was beginning to turn green. But Johnny AR paid little attention to this. It had been a long, cold winter, freezing Johnny to his very marrow. The snow, there in the shade of the delapidated old shed where Johnny stood, was still several inches deep. Johnny's vision was partially obscured by last summer's burdocks and brambles, now all brown and ugly. Johnny was so glum and cold that he didn't hear the little green car pull into the driveway. But even if he had it would have meant nothing to him. He had been alone in that clump of burdocks for so long. He knew he had been forgotten years ago.

Johnny AR was tired of being cold and he was tired of being surrounded by burdocks but most of all he was tired of being alone and unloved.

Johnny heaved a forlorn sigh and closed his eyes to reminisce of happier days. He had been so happy when he was working on the farm. And he had worked hard plowing and planting and mowing hay and doing numerous other chores for his master. The times Johnny liked to remember best were the times he had pulled wagon loads of sweet smelling hay filled with laughing children.

He had served his master well but the day had come when his master had parked him out by the old shed and told him that he had earned a peaceful retirement.

Johnny AR had felt saddened, but at least the children had still come to visit him. He loved the way they climbed on him and laughed as they pretended to drive him. Johnny AR had watched affectionately as the children had romped in the grass beside him. But now the children were all grown up and had gone away.

'If only the sun would warm me up a bit, I might feel better,' sighed Johnny.