Today we shucked corn. We sat around in small circles a bucket on our laps and corn in our hands. As each one of us worked individually, grain by grain, we also worked together. When all the buckets are full and all the cobs are empty we will all say together that the work is done. In the meantime, as we shuck, conversation flows. ‘How have you been? How are your children? When do you think it will rain?’. From the obligatory small-talk questions that are actually quite important, we flow into the longer form prose of narrative speech. Instead of just saying you’re doing fine you tell the story of two days ago when your daughter sent you flowers. Or you speak fondly about the time you were shucking corn with other friends on a different day. ‘How many years has it been now?’ Time can’t possibly have gone by so fast.
And the mention of time reminds you that the good old-fashioned things like stringing beans and shucking corn are mostly of times gone by. Maybe they were lost to your parents before you even entered this world. This thought makes you a bit sad, but also a bit grateful that shucking corn wasn’t on your daily list of chores. Most of all it makes you grateful for the aunt and uncle, the grandma and grandpa, or the family friend that invited you over to do this mundane activity with them. And then taught you that stringing beans and shucking corn is actually code for spending time with those you love. And catching up on all the good stuff you need to know about friends, family, and the community.
Today we shucked corn, we made small talk, and we shared stories with people we love.
The product of which was full buckets, and also full hearts.
