John VandeKemp holding an intarsia he created of his sugar shack. The artwork was made of hundreds of cut-out pieces, shaped, painted and fitted back together.
John Schwartzentruber
Farmers Forum
How do you measure success?
In the farming community, the answers commonly fall toward the material, having more of the things that are visible and easily quantified. They say that the one who dies with the most toys wins, implying an insatiable appetite for the perishable.
Occasionally, we may have the good providence to cross paths with someone whose life demonstrates the meaning of real value, lasting achievement. And then we may even have the privilege of calling such a one a friend.
Almost 50 years ago, through the unpredictable meanderings of farm life, I had the good fortune to meet such a man. He stood out from the rest, not because he was loud; he spoke quietly, gently, with wisdom, and he laughed softly.
John VandeKemp came to Canada from the Netherlands nearly 70 years ago when he was just a small boy. It wasn’t easy for immigrants to get ahead in those days and his family earned every penny the hard way.
John very deliberately set his goals early in life: find a good woman and start a family. And farm. And in that order, he succeeded, marrying Eileen and soon the pitter patter of little feet blessed their home.
Their farming career got off to a rough start when their first corn crop got fried in a June frost, requiring a replant. Their first sow died after birthing a litter of baby pigs. Their thin asset sheet was balanced by persistence and sweat.
When I met John, it didn’t take long to find a strong thread woven into our visits. It was the obvious, high value he placed on his family. Sure, there was the usual talk of tough veal prices, good crops and bad, but always seeming to turn to matters of deeper significance.
Farming was challenging but John was always up to its demands. However, no one could foresee the day when there would be a much bigger bump in the road…
John and Eileen bought the home farm in 1972 and took over the dairy herd in the days before robots or even pipelines. Eileen carried countless buckets of milk to the bulk tank. Dairy cows never appealed strongly to them, so John renovated his barns in ’78 and found more satisfaction in raising hogs and corn-fed veal. But veal calves get sick and die, and after one rough stretch, Eileen told John it would be easier to just burn the money instead of dumping it into calves.
The highlight of the crop year for John was maple syrup time. But again, he didn’t describe the season in liters per tap, but rather in how their children, and eventually grandchildren, helped gather sap from their 500 taps. John never said how many gallons of syrup they produced from those roadside trees. But he did say that the time came when he had to expand the sugar shack, not for a bigger evaporator, but to hold all the grandchildren that would show up to help Grandpa John make maple syrup.
What is sweeter than that?
Some years ago, John bought a scroll saw and thus began a brand new venture that uncovered an amazing talent in fine woodcraft. John’s skilled hands produced incredible pieces of intarsia, painted by Eileen, which then sold very well at markets that stretched from Barrie to London.
Some even found a home in Switzerland. And some grace my walls; there’s Rembrandt and there’s VandeKemp…
One day, when our youngest son brought a girl home to meet us, it was pretty easy to tell she came from good stock. She is John VandeKemp’s granddaughter.
But the best lived lives can encounter troubles. Just before Christmas, our daughter-in-law told us that Grandpa has cancer. No, it can’t be so!
Then came the phone call from my longtime friend and he spoke words that no one wants to hear, “The doctor said I have 3 to 6 months to live.” Delivered with his usual calm.
Was it easy for him to accept? No, it wasn’t. It felt like getting hit with a brick. There have been deep, tearful conversations with family, a family that still comes home every week to spend an afternoon with Mom and Dad, Grandma and Grandpa, and now great-Grandma and great-Grandpa.
“The human body is designed to want to live,” said John. “But I’m okay with it,” he went on, “because I know that there’s a better life ahead.”
And through the subsequent course of treatments, John and Eileen’s peace from faith has been a powerful witness to each one they encounter. “I’m doing what the doctors recommend,” said John, “but my faith is in Jesus Christ.”
As they recently sat at our kitchen table sharing this journey, every good thing I’d ever known about John, every admiration I’ve held for him was justified during that visit. And you know what I discovered?
John’s lifelong commitment to his faith and his family is the definition of success. He has laid a good foundation that will benefit generations to come.
I wish you the best, my friend. And thank you for your example.
