Adelaide Felgner
Berrien Springs Middle School
Berrien Springs

When I was younger I would spend my mornings down at the farm, playing with the cats and watching the cows graze in the grass. And every day my papa was always there doing his chores, hard at work.

My papa ran a dairy farm, up until I was seven years old. And while the animals were one of his top priorities, he would be sure to spend time with my sister and I whenever we were there. Whether that means he would take us to feed the cows or play with us in the sandbox, he always did his best to let us know how much we meant to him. And we did know.

It was when I was around the age of three, that my mom started taking us to my grandparents’ farm on a regular basis while my parents were both at work. We would arrive in the morning, greeted by applesauce sandwiches and the memorable candy jar, and stay for some time after lunch until we could go back to our house. So, as I started to get used to my routine, I would go into the house and head straight to my Papa to sit in his lap and eat the cheerios in front of him. It became expected that he would always let me do so and if it ever bothered him, he never said so.

The farm that I grew up on was always a loving environment. The animals were fed and the grass was neatly mowed. Not to mention the large amount of cats and kittens that would increase by the week. Many people would dump their cats on the side of the road near the farm when they decided they didn’t want them. My papa, being the generous and caring man that he was, would feed them and take them in. It was because of kind gestures like this that made me appreciate him as a person and as a grandfather.

But along with the great times I can remember, I had to learn at a young age what it meant to lose someone you care about. I will never forget the day that Papa didn’t come back to the house to see my sister and I when we were dropped off for the day. Lunch passed and when we realized he wasn’t coming, cop cars, firetrucks, and family friends were ushered to the scene. At the time, I didn’t understand, but my papa was gone. He died that day on the farm that he loved, where my mother had been raised and where I had spent time with the people who cared for me.

I’ve grown used to not having him around, but I think about him all the time and all the memories we shared. So, when asked to share the story of my Michigan Hero, he came to my mind immediately. Because he is the man who showed me that family is a gift that can never be replaced.