I dreamed one night I stood before the pearly gates.
Would I know my loved ones there? Some debate.
St. Peter was my guide as we toured this holy place.
I longed to see them all and searched each peaceful face.
We saw a crew of cowboys roundin' up the heavenly herd.
One rode out ahead, his horse he gently spurred.
He sat tall in the saddle, I could tell he was respected.
The cattle corralled quite easily, as calmy as directed.
My Dad was riding there.
The cattle were quickly sorted; runaway calves were roped.
I searched the faces for others I knew, it was as I hoped.
He stood with others gathered round, the story that he told
Had brought laughter to each face as his tale did unfold.
My husband was laughing there.
The branding fire was started, each cowboy took his place.
The work was done methodically, it portrayed a kind of grace.
From the back of a pickup two little cowpokes were takin' it all in.
I heard the deepest laugh from one; I just had to grin.
My son was watching there.
Heelers, wrestlers, branders, they all did their job with ease.
Work turned to pleasure, that's what it was for these.
A little girl rode up, blonde hair blowin' in the wind.
Sparklin' eyes lit up as though she'd seen a long-lost friend.
My daughter was smiling there.
The work was soon completed, to the big ranch house they rode.
A feast was waiting there, complete with pie a la mode.
A genteel woman rang the bell and hollered
"come n' dine."
She welcomed each one with a smile as they formed the dinner line.
My mom was serving there.
Everyone was seated and bowed their heads to pray,
Thankful for their heavenly surroundings and the outcome of the day.
A presence filled the room, peace and love was all around.
He stood with hands outstretched; on His head a golden crown.
My Lord was waiting there.
Janet Parkhurst | Cody, Nebraska 1995
One of the best times of the year to be a rancher, with spring work going on. Great excuse to call old buddies and have them come drag calves and run needles. Always a good time to be had! (Especially when boss Steve fills the cooler) My mom was awesome help this year, keeping our son fed and happy as well as the cowboys. For those that don't know, the brandin' iron is kind of like a torch you pass down from generation to generation. Every man hopes to have a son he can pass it along to. Steve and I will be running our own place one day. Made my heart smile watching him run the iron this weekend. I can't wait for Cord to watch his daddy brand and fill his little head with cowboy dreams. Thank you Lord for this life we get to live.