Loving your job on Labor Day

It was Labor Day, 1946, when Dad started a temporary job that grew into a lifelong career. Farm boss at the orphan’s home was not a title that drew my father from rural Cadott to Homme Children’s Home in Wittenberg. In a casual meeting in a parking lot in Stanley, Dad met with Homme’s director F.B. Anderson who was on his way to the northshore for relief from his allergies.

Dad wasn’t looking to continue his life as a farmer. He had missed out on World War II and was eager to join the Merchant Marines for his first great adventure. There’s the old adage “If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans” and I think that sums up my father’s experience.

With a lot of encouragement from his dad and the earnest plea from Mr. Anderson, Dad headed off to Homme to milk the cows and leave once he brought in the harvest. I’m sure it seemed to Dad as just a little bump in the road. Little did he know that bump changed the trajectory of his life in a way he never could have imagined.

What he found when he got here was not just the daily busy work that is farming, but the children who needed a home. By the time Dad arrived, the vision of Rev. Homme to provide a home for orphans had adapted to help all children. Many of the kids who were there were siblings who only had one parent and that parent had to make the very hard choice to leave the children at Homme so they could go and earn a living.

For Dad it was an eye-opening experience. Although he had grown up during the depression, his family farm provided enough food and income to survive. He told me of a family that would come once a week to visit, always around suppertime, and his mom would graciously make room for them at the dinner table. Times were hard, but there was always enough to share. To now be at a job where families were separated to survive was a new concept for him.

Over the years Dad met many children and parents and became life long friends with several people sharing their joys and sorrows. For Dad the job was all about the experience. He enjoyed knowing every day would be different than the day before. He took six months off one year to see if higher paying wages at a factory would provide for him a better life. Happiness for Dad was found in taking care of others.

Labor Day for Dad was a celebration of meaningful work and he was truly grateful for his. Even the bad days where problems seemed insurmountable couldn’t steer him to find a different profession. Without even knowing it he was guided to be in the right place at the right time and he appreciated the satisfaction it brought him.

I often wonder if people use Labor Day to reflect on their good fortune to find meaningful work or if it’s just a time to forget about what they do for a long weekend. I’ve had my feet planted firmly in either camp from time to time and I know it was always inspirational to see the world as Dad saw it.