Taught by New Neighbors

I thought I’d seen it all. After decades as a farm kid and living close to the land, the cycle of life and food wasn’t a mystery to me. We raised a garden and harvested its bounty. We kept chickens for eggs and meat. Our family processed hogs and deer, rabbits and squirrels. It was simply what we did to survive, and it instilled in us a profound gratitude for everything on our table. (And for the record, no, we never did the roadkill thing. That was a line we never even considered crossing.)

So, when my new neighbors invited me to watch them slaughter a bull, I didn’t flinch. I gladly accepted.

Let me tell you about these neighbors. They are some of the kindest, most hard-working people you could ever hope to live beside. The family is a small village in itself—thirteen brothers and sisters, plus the mother, father, and in-laws. Their generosity and work ethic are something to behold.

They gathered on our shared property line, the bull arriving in a livestock trailer. This wasn’t just any animal; he was a big, aggressive fellow. With practiced skill, they roped him, carefully wrestled him to the ground, and dispatched him quickly and respectfully. Then, the real work began.

I’ll spare you the gory details, but what happened next was a well-orchestrated dance. A crowd of family members descended, and in what seemed like no time, the bull was cleaned and butchered. It wasn’t a grim affair; it was a purpose-driven gathering.

When all was said and done, the meat was shared among the entire clan. For them, it was a bonding time, a reaffirmation of family and self-reliance. For me, standing there on that property line, it was more than just a lesson in butchery. It was a beautiful reminder of where our food truly comes from, the work it requires, and the deep sense of community that is forged when people come together to do what needs to be done. It was a privilege to be invited in, and it bonded me to my neighbors in a way I won’t soon forget.