Did you ever live on a farm so still, Where the work was hard, and the air had a chill? Dreading the task of the tough stump row, A test of resolve where progress was slow.
That dreaded day finally came at last, The sun beat down, the hours dragged past. I lowered my head, bit my lip, pressed on, Each swing of the hoe sang a stubborn song.
Some days in life are just like that row, Starting out rough with nowhere to go. But step by step, with grit in your hand, You clear the way, and you take your stand.
For persistence and faith will see you through, With every strike, you’re born anew. Never giving up will shape your soul, Turning toil into triumph, and making you whole.
