We were married during the war. I was a city girl and my husband a farmer. Money was easy to get in those times, so we lived in town and my husband drove back and forth to the farm every day. To live on a farm was not one of my ambitions and I never dreamed that I ever would.
After the war, prices began to fall and it wasn't long before we saw that we couldn't live where we were and continue farming; so my husband got a job. He never said that he was lonely for the farm, but I could see that he was. We could scarcely live on his salary and he was getting so discouraged that I suggested that we move to the farm.
I'll never forget how happy he was when he knew we were going. And I'll never forget how I fought it out alone. I was determined that I would go to that farm and like it, in spite of myself.
We have been here for seven years and not an unhappy moment have we had. We work together and plan together. To be sure we have had disappointments, but they are a part of life, so we meet them together.
My only fear is that this depression may take away our farm as it has so many others. I can truly say that I want to stay here where I have been so happy.