I stand in a field planted by another
A plot of land bought by my fathers
Growing crops for the generations coming
The field bearing fruit for hundreds of years
Since the fathers of my fathers’ fathers came across the sea
And planted their seed in this once-empty field
To feed their generations yet to be born

My fathers came strangers in a strange land
My fathers sought the welfare of the land
But maintaining and keeping their nation
Not accommodating the native people of the land
But raising and maintaining their nation of old
My fathers were not saviors, not to people or the land
They only prepared the way for this to come
So for reasons similar, we too prepare the way

We do the humble work of planting the seeds
We till this land for the generations to come
We plant seeds for others to sow in their time
Just as my fathers did before me
We prepare the way of The Lord
We prepare a field for our children
And plant seeds for the children of our children
We work and toil for the blessings of our children

A seed is planted in the field
It will grow some day to feed my generations
I may not see what it grows to be
And I may not see who it goes to feed
But I know it will grow into food for generations
I know this to be true just like a woodsman
A woodsman knows that the acorn goes on to be a tree
And the oak becomes a forest in a thousand years

And so I till the field
And I plant the seeds in our land
And I give my love to generations to come
The Love of God