Monday, December 16
The key! A wave of panic rides over me. We are on farm duty next week and I am certain we will forget to pick up a key at the front desk. My anxious brain works overtime, inventing dozens of scenarios of animal suffering and doom.

Friday, December 20
Friday arrives. School is out for the holidays. On the shelf beside my house keys, the farm key rests. I exhale.

Sunday evening, December 22
I have set my alarm for 7:15, and Maya has set hers for 8:00. We plan to arrive at the farm by 9:00. We are excited with a capital X.

Monday, December 23
As I dress for the farm, my mind wanders back to our very first Family Farmer tour of duty and I smile. I was so nervous - it was all such unfamiliar territory. Like most CDS Family Farmers, we are city cats: Bob from Tokyo, me from New York. Chicken always came fried, sautéed with ginger and cashews. I am sure at least once I referred to Corrie (the sheep) as "the goat." I remember going through the chores checklist and feeling overwhelmed. "Which one is the straw, and which one is the hay?" "How many cups of scratch can the kids really feed to the chickens?" "Why can't I get my child to help me scoop this poop?"

It is 8:30. With key in hand, I pack everyone into the car: Maya, Bob, even baby Emil and Grandma Dorothy who is visiting from Vancouver. As I repeat the security gate combination over and over in my head, I feel confident. I think.

Wednesday evening, December 25
Our three-day tour of farm duty has just ended. What a change from last year. With the reassuring awareness of the resilience of the farm, and Morgan's detailed to-do list, I was unencumbered by my usual New York neuroses. As I cleaned and fed, shoveled and scrubbed, I felt my entire self take on the pace and the rhythm of the farm life. I was at peace.

While locking up for the last time, Bob and I talked about how right it felt to spend our holiday as a family taking care of the CDS farm. But I think there was more to it than just doing our part to volunteer for CDS, or having a place to go other than somewhere crowded and commercial. I have a need right now, beyond the spirit of the season, to nurture. I think we all do. We are bombarded with daily messages of the aggressive nature of the world, and of our own country. Immersing myself in the care of Corrie and Poppy (the sheep), Fluffy and her friends (the chickens), and in the gentle life that our children share with these animals and earth, refocused my world vision through a more compassionate lens.