An Encouraging Word

“Oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam; where the deer and the antelope play; where seldom is heard a discouraging word and the skies are not cloudy all day.” As I listened to that song the other day I had to wonder to myself, if there really is anyone left who knows what it feels like to live in a place 'where the buffalo roamed' or where 'seldom is heard a discouraging word'. I also wondered if there was anyone around who would WANT to. I mean, it all sounds nice in the song, but when it comes right down to it, I guess we're all just a bunch of wimps.

Take, for instance, buffalo roaming. That means a place where there are no roads, no electricity and no fences. Buffalo were pretty destructive of any other habitat but their own. Basically, where the buffalo roamed was a place where ONLY buffalo roamed. In other words, forget having a house, running water, electric lights and a thousand other amenities, because the buffalo pretty much take over the land. You could roam around WITH the buffalo, like some of the native people did, but permanent housing is out of the question.

OK, what about the deer and the antelope? Beautiful, right? Well, if the deer and the antelope can play, it means again that people are scarce, roads are non-existent and fences are out of the question. It means that if you try to grow something, they are going to eat it; that is, if the buffalo don't get to it first. There is a reason why there was only grass on the prairie when the settlers first came to this land.

Now, it sounds really nice to live in a place where seldom is heard a discouraging word but I've decided that the reason he seldom heard a discouraging word is because he seldom heard ANY word. There are so few people around on a prairie where the buffalo roam that anything you heard from another human being would sound like good news to you. I spent one day alone, with my horse, on the prairie, with no human being in sight for miles. One day was enough for me. I

Alright, skies that aren't cloudy all day...well, that's just not practical. I mean, no rain - no anything. I suppose in the song he means that there is very little trouble, or not a lot to worry about. Again, I'm having a hard time believing that anyone who is alone on a prairie with buffalo has little to worry about. I love the “Little House on the Prairie” books by Laura Ingalls Wilder. Those truthful accounts of a young girl's life on the prairie are a rare glimpse into the past. One of the first things you learn is that on the prairie, you always have some life-threatening danger to worry about. In reality, living in a place where the buffalo roam was anything but a romantic way of life, as the song suggests. It was hard, hostile, frightening and often extremely dangerous. The early settlers fought tooth and nail against the buffalo, deer, coyotes, wolves, the elements and sometimes other people just to eek out a meager living on the unforgiving prairie.

Today, if we don't get immediate reception for our cell phone that has to talk to a satellite and receive information from sometimes thousands of miles away, we pout and grumble that we are going to change providers. If our computer isn't lightening fast at streaming video signals from around the globe we complain that we just can't stand to wait for this 'awful connection'. We apologize to ourselves if our television isn't as big as the wall. We get uptight if the GPS has a glitch in it.

Maybe we need to spend a few days in “a home where the buffalo roam” so we can learn to appreciate the simple pleasures of indoor plumbing and hot running water. Maybe if we spent some time “where the deer and the antelope play”, without a car or a cell phone, a job or a boss, we might learn to appreciate what it means to survive when you have to fight mother nature for every morsel of food you get. And perhaps if we lived in a place like a prairie, alone, “where seldom is heard a discouraging word” we might awaken to the realization that people are great, and that families are precious gifts not to be taken for granted. And, I'm sure I don't want to be where “the skies are not cloudy all day.” I hope it wouldn't take a drought to give us an appreciation for the rain, irrigation, drinking water and good crops.

Still, the guy who wrote that song sounds happy. And I'm having a hard time imagining someone happily singing a song that goes something like this:

Oh, give me a home, where the cell towers roam

Where the Jazz and the Warriors play;

Where seldom is heard an encouraging word

And the skies are just smoggy all day.

Come to think of it, that prairie is sounding better and better all the time.