HarvestMoon
肯尼斯·L.皮尔庞特 /
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Whenharvest-timecame， he’， hislifewaslikethat， ， ’swhatmadeitsohardoneautumnwhendifficultcircumstancesclosedinonhim.
Hehadpromisedtoharvestafewribbonsofcornthatwoundaroundthehillsonafriend’sfarm， butafterharvestinghisowncorn， Grandpa’slittlecornpickercoughed， ， ； ’tgethomeuntilwellaftersunset.
Oneautumnnight， whileharvesttimewasrunningout， heandhiswifesatatthekitchentablesippingbitterblackcoffeetryingtofigureawayoutoftheirdilemma.
“There’snothingyoucando，” saidmygrandma， “You’lljusthavetotellhimthatyoucan’thelpwiththecornthisyear.”
“Wellthatjustdoesn’tsitwellwithme，” saidmygrandpa， “’texactlyletmyneighbor’sharvestrotinthefield， canI？”
“Ifyoudon’thavetheequipment， youjustcan’tdoit，” shesaid.
“Well， ，” hesaid.
“Whendoyouthinkyou’dhavetimetodoit？” sheasked， “Withtheovertimeyou’vebeenworkingyou’dbeupallnight -besidesit’dbetoodark.”
“IknowonenightthatIcoulddoit！” ’sAlmanacandstartedflippingthroughthepagesuntilhefoundwhathewaslookingfor.
“Aha！ There’sstillonemorefullmooninOctober.” Asithappened， ’scalledtheharvestmoonbecauseitgivesfarmersmorelightandmoretimetocollecttheircrops.“IftheLordgivesusclearweather， IthinkIcandoit.” hesaid.
Andsoafewdayslater， afteralongshiftatthefactory， mygrandpamadehiswaytothefieldwheremygrandmamethiminthetruckwithdinnerandasteamingthermosofstrong， ， .
Iknowthisstorywell， becauseI’vespenthoursonthatoldtractor’’veevensufferedthroughsomeofthatsamebittercoffeetogether.I’mproudtosaythatmyparentsnamedmeafterhim.
