02/07/2025
The book I never wrote Barb and Paul Weatherbee January 2025
So many times, people said I should write a book about the Farm, but I never had time or energy. Energy has not been a word in my vocabulary, but I do have time now to answer people’s questions.
Let’s start at the beginning.
After we purchased the farm in 1959 Paul bought 2 black beautiful big Angus cows Cleo and Leo, plus chickens for our son Warren’s egg route, and a horse for our daughter Laurie. Life was good. We had our dream home. It was perfect! We named our farm Peaceful Acres. We had no clue God was leading us when we first drove down the driveway, but God was smiling on us. He was about to bless the Freedom Farm abundantly.
We met Jesus.
In our mid 30’s, we both joined friends in start-up Bible studies at the Daman’s, Bolton people we didn’t know. It was fascinating to read the truth about Jesus straight from his lips. We discussed what he said to his disciples as he walked and talked with them. He had such a close, intimate personal relationship with them. Paul said the black and white print jumped off the pages of his Bible to speak to him. The more we read, the more we learned about Jesus. He was so much more than a historic figure. He was forever alive after he was crucified with a powerful message from his heavenly Father. Jesus was our Lord and Savior, God himself! We were asked a question. Would we be willing to receive him into our hearts if it meant losing control of our selfish lives? Yes! We eagerly, prayerfully did. It was exhilarating! We looked forward to this new life of ours as we prayed together asking him to use our property for his purpose.
Jesus said, “Go into all the world teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you.” We took his words seriously, wanting others to know there was a new purpose for our lives. “God has made us what we are, and in our union with Christ Jesus he has created us for a life of good deeds, which he had already prepared for us to do.” That meant he had already prepared each one. Would he ask us to serve him knowing we wouldn’t be able to follow through? We were about to find out.
Friends say they could never do what we did. Ha! Thankfully, the Lord didn’t show us the Farm as it would become. We took each day, each step, one at a time.
A new direction.
We became youth group leaders at Trinity church. Some in our new teen Sunday school class told us about the wild parties among their peers who would gang up to raid homes when parents were away. How could we help? They needed Jesus! They needed to know there was a glorious purpose for their lives because of God’s amazing love. It wasn’t long before he revealed a special plan for the Freedom Farm as it had been in his mind all along. I read about a Coffee House started by a church in DC to be a witness to those who came. With our small Sunday School class, we could do that in our barn! Paul put the cows out to pasture and the Coffee Shop in Bolton Ma. began. With small tables and free donuts, it was a tremendous success. Our Sunday school class welcomed kids, inviting them to come back with their friends. They appreciated a special place just for them where they could gather safely with their friends. In time, so many spilled out to the street, two cops from our church showed up to meet kids and be there if needed. Perhaps there was one scuffle in all that time, but it was easily handled. We became friends with many teens outside our farm or our church. That was our purpose. So, after a year or so, we closed that door and invited some we hardly knew to a Bible study in our home. It would be God’s surprise party for them as society told them, God was dead. Surprise! He wasn’t dead after all! Those who thought he was, were wrong! Instead, he was very much alive with an important message of how much he loved them. He was ready to forgive their sins with a new life and purpose tailored just for them.
Soon we had to move to the barn for more space to accommodate more teens. Kids came in jeans, sometimes barefoot, with a hunger to know God. We didn’t need to advertise. Those who came did that for us. Everyone loved the farm. Former Farmers now tell us when they came as teens, they were accepted just as they were. It was their place. Ah, the charm of the large wood burning stove Paul had bought from a railroad station in Maine. There was nothing like that smell floating in the air outside to draw them in. This was a barn! Drafty in the winter, calling kids to huddle around it or at the fireplace as they put in another log.
Week after week they responded to God’s word by inviting him into their hearts. They loved its safe, comfortable atmosphere. More prayer. Who could we ask to teach them? We were new believers, so we needed a seasoned teacher. Hoagy, youth minister at Trinitarian Church, came with his youth group and Dick Ober was with them. It just happened that Dick was a gifted Bible teacher who loved teenagers! He was the answer to our prayers! God was on the move! The Bible assured us “The Lord will provide.” And he did. All praise to him! Along with the word of God drawing them into the barn for their study, kids came early and stayed late to hang out or play volleyball or Foursquare. A few remember the Rap room, where Paul took very few for a chat “behind the barn” if they were out of line. Gradually teens took over our lives.
Life at home.
A few had joined our family in our home for various reasons. Mike Johnson, a professional recording artist with his wife Karen, moved into our 1750 antique house along with his loud guitars and drums, excited about helping as they saw how God was changing teen’s lives. He was the one who thought Peaceful Acres sounded like a retirement home, so he named us the Freedom Farm. Paul had left GM with their paychecks so most days at the farm our lives were vastly different, busy with unexpected guests. We had an open house without hours as kids watched to see how our faith affected our home life. They knew they could visit us whenever they were in our neighborhood. Some needed respite from dysfunctional homes. We needed more bedrooms for those able to care for themselves, so the men made three rooms in the barn hayloft. Paul put available kids to work as he always needed lots of help with the cows. The hay bales needed to be brought in every summer, or sometimes a newborn calf needed to be fed with a bottle. Even a calf born too close to our icy pond was rescued by Paul and Arthur just before Christmas. How could they keep him warm? Lots of fresh hay and strong lights all around him in his stall, but to make sure, Arthur slept beside little “Crimas.” Perfect!
I often heard someone say, “What’s for lunch?” One morning I realized we had no bread for sandwiches. Now what? I knew God provided spiritually, but could he provide for us physically? It wasn’t until later that I saw a large VW pull into our driveway. A friend jumped out asking if we needed any bread because he had a truck full! Really? A truckful? Really! Yes, now we knew he would provide physically according to our need. “The Lord will provide.” There was God’s promise again. The Lord was teaching Paul and me to rely on him and his Word every day. God had answered my question for years to come as we trusted him alone. The Bible added it even gave him pleasure to reveal himself to us. There was so much for us to learn.
Jesus also said, “Ask and you shall receive, knock and the door will be opened for you.”
God’s door won’t ever be locked. Like the farm back then. The only reason we might lock a door would be to keep the dog in.
The Farm wasn’t limited to teens.
Charlie, a cop from Marlboro, finally gave in to his wife Bev, to check us out. He hesitated because kids to him were trouble. The first thing he noticed was the smiles on the young people’s faces. They were enjoying themselves and well mannered. They weren’t the same as the ones he knew. They were listening and singing together. He had his coffee but wondered why these kids were different. He came back to find out more.
Paul had already started the men’s breakfast when we moved our outreach to the barn. As soon as he heard the rooster crow on Saturday mornings, he was on his way to shovel snow if needed, start the fire in the kitchen wood stove, make the coffee and set the table which was a beauty! Ralph Daman had lovingly made it from local lumber to fit nicely in the farm dining room. Custom made! Three planks long enough to seat up to 20! The men came for the Saturday breakfast through ice, snow, wind and rain, taking turns doing the cooking. John Crighton, from Trinity church opened the Bible for them. Charlie was there early every week. One morning the men read from Romans, “If you declare with your mouth, ‘Jesus is Lord’ and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.” That was exactly what he believed. He wondered if he could do that. He wanted to go to heaven when he died. He went to all our meetings, but this verse was what spoke to him. Yes, he could, and there and then Charlie learned why we all were different. He became born again. Later, when Charlie saw two young jocks from Nashoba coming to the barn for the first time, six packs under their arms, he told them, “You won’t need those here.” Thankfully, they found their thirst quenched by Jesus, the Living Water. A side benefit for Paul and me was the deep friendship developed as he and Bev became not only our close friends but eager to help in any way they could.
A powerful message.
Jimmy Fagan, an 18-year-old, moved into one of the bedrooms in the barn. His mother couldn’t handle him saying he wore out everyone who tried to help him. He was always happy here as he fit in easily with his love for Jesus, new friends, and many flowering bushes to care for in our gardens. He became our poet laureate who loved to share his latest poem at our meetings. He was off to work one morning as usual when a call came from the hospital. Jim was unresponsive. We rushed his mother to be with him, but when we arrived, he was gone. A tragic accident at work. We struggled for answers losing our friend yet comforted by God’s powerful message. Jimmy’s body was dead but spiritually he was more alive than ever before. He was safe in the arms of Jesus.
The Jesus revolution.
Then in the ‘70s, our little farm ministry caught the wave of the Jesus Revolution with thousands of young people who also followed Jesus throughout the nation. In our purple bus (a painted retired school bus) we joined local meetings in Worcester to hear right-on teachings with encouraging testimonies from those whose lives were changed by Jesus. It was such a thrill hearing young people sing gospel songs from their hearts! They were excited about their faith, eager to share it freely.
Retreats were exhausting but so worthwhile, always so personal. With help from our group, we planned meetings with all the food prepared by fun loving Charlie and Steve L. Thirty teens camped in NH at Toah Nipi or at a campground on Martha’s Vineyard. Bobby, a well-known Pastor on the Island brought his youth group and shared his messages on the beach. What could be better than that! Lots of fun but the most important part was to ground them in their faith from God’s word before they went out to the world. Many wanted to be baptized so with Hoagy and Dick officiating, our purple bus went several times to the ocean at Singing Sands Beach on the North Shore. Beauty in such a gorgeous place as many followed Jesus’ teachings.
Looking back.
Again, we had no idea that professional singing groups with their huge buses would put on their concerts right in our barn. But God knew. And he made sure we knew as well. During their tours they could avoid staying in a hotel in exchange for a free will offering and one of our farm-cooked meals seated around our long table in the farm dining room. Booked! The Continentals, the Spurlows, The Archers, all in their flashy outfits singing their full concerts for us! Even Kathy Traccoli on her way to stardom. They didn’t miss a beat and were fabulous! Amazing! At the end of one of these performances, one of the singers asked if anyone had a special request. Something happened we hadn’t planned. One of our girls who spent time helping at a rehab for handicapped children, brought a young paraplegic gal in a wheelchair. She loved the concert and afterwards haltingly answered their question, “I wanna hing wid a micr a fone.” One of the musicians gave her his mike and taking it to her lips, this little girl sang each word slowly, “Jesus loves me…this I know…. for the Bible tells me so. Little ones to him belong…. I am weak, but he is strong.” No glitz. No comparison. She sang without accompaniment with genuine praise for God’s love for her. She was living her dream and would never forget that moment. She was physically unable to move by herself, yet she knew that God dearly loved her just the way she was.
Another concert by our own, the Seymour’s. Both musicians who had met here, married, with their family of four adorable children, formed a singing group like the von Trapps. They all sang for us on a sunny Sunday afternoon on our lawn. Denise, a popular soloist, with Tom and their precious children sang familiar gospel songs and hymns harmonizing beautifully. Their platform was a wooden hay wagon, and their music touched us all. The backdrop was our Trumpet vine on the barn in full bloom with hummingbirds putting on their own show darting back and forth enjoying each bloom. The large crowd gathered that day left encouraged and full of the goodness of God.
Behind the scenes.
With a few helping midweeks to plan, Bible studies were on Friday nights, with Sunday nights for singing, worship and fellowship. We decided not to associate our fellowship with any church, instead our priority was to attract them to Jesus letting him lead them to the right church for them. As years passed, we had to be ready to make changes. Teens graduated from high school but still came. Older farmers volunteered to keep them going so we could start a new study for young adults ending up with a Singles Group. (We went to a lot of weddings!) That was about the time a study for young women began which became a highlight for married women. Years went by before we gradually saw the need to reach more church women, so the Bible study moved there and still being held at Trinity.
One night we were having a study on our glass porch when Paul asked everyone their thoughts on the meaning of the word Grace. Joe was there. (Not his real name) Before he moved to the farm, I wasn’t sure we could handle him because he was an unbeliever with a drinking problem. But after Paul talked with him, he came. Ordinarily he was quiet at our meetings but to my surprise he shared his story.
“I can tell you what grace is. When I moved in, Paul told me about the rules here, making them very clear. No alcohol. Period! Otherwise, I would have to look for another place to stay. It was settled! I figured I could do that. Everything was going well until I blew it. I was working for a painting company every day, always back in time for meetings until I made a stupid decision to go out with the guys after work one night. I woke up drunk in my totaled truck. Police took me to jail. I had really messed up and I knew my fate. I called Paul who picked me up.” Joe was a broken man. He didn’t know Paul was praying on his way unsure about what to do. He too struggled. We were all guilty but forgiven by Jesus. He wanted Joe to have a relationship with Jesus. So, after they talked on the way home, he made the decision to let him stay. He forgave him as Jesus forgave us. Joe was so grateful for Paul’s decision. It made a deep impression on him. He didn’t have to leave! That was the meaning of grace! Forgiven and restored. Thankfully, Joe has been sober ever since calling us each anniversary year of his sobriety.
But there was more to this unique young man. Months went by and I began to hear things from the grapevine. Joe had since moved to his own apartment nearby where he was growing ma*****na. While I was on my way to catch up with our son Warren I happened to see Joe outside his new place. He invited me in to see his paintings, but I wanted to see if there was any pot. Yes, there were about 10 plants sitting on his kitchen counter! I asked him what kind they were. Guilty and caught! He made an excuse that they were a new kind of tomato plant. I said that I would love to plant one in our garden, so I picked one up to bring home and walked out the door. There I was walking down a busy street in Clinton carrying a ma*****na plant! I put it in my car to do errands but funny thing. When I returned it was gone! That evening Joe called to apologize with yet another chat. Finally, it was the Boston Billy Graham Crusade in ’82 where Joe gave his heart to Jesus.
It was at one of our Sunday evenings meetings with a particularly large group gathered that we knew something was up. After our singing, we were given an envelope to open. Everyone was smiling. Inside were tickets to L’Abri in Switzerland for three weeks! We were given the trip of a lifetime! It was so overwhelming we could hardly speak. Soon, there we were among the Alps with charming chalets, meeting kindred spirits from all over Europe, studying each morning, with more discussions at dinner groups in different chalets. We learned much to bring back to the farm, relieved that their formal meetings started late too.
The showpiece was an elegant High Tea with Edith. She was charming, making us all feel important. Flowers, linen napkins, fancy pastries on China plates. Rolls fashioned to look like mice. Adorable.
L’Abri interrupted our stay there by closing the second week, allowing another dream to come true. It was just 4” on the map but took us 2 days on trains and busses to find our way to Margraten, Holland. We borrowed bicycles to be the first family members to honor my brother Warren’s grave. He was killed in Germany 2 weeks before the end of the war. Very emotional. An unplanned treasure. All because of our Farm gift.
Back in Switzerland we had time to tour ancient castles, running through all the rooms and tunnels thinking of how much fun Farmers would have had playing “Hide and Go Seek”!
A new understanding.
One of the faithful, Paul H., caught me off guard one day saying the Farm had ministered to thousands!
I knew he was exaggerating! But now after all these years, I can see that the Lord took those seeds we planted years ago and made them grow into a large tree affecting not only young people, but their families, future marriages with their children, plus adults attending with their friends. We couldn’t count them all.
Then we remembered the verse saying, “It is like a mustard seed, which is the smallest seed you plant in the ground. Yet when planted, it grows and becomes the largest of all garden plants, with such big branches that the birds of the air can perch in its shade.” It made no sense when we first read that, but now years later, we can see results hidden from us about the importance of planting seeds from God.
What kept us going?
Most important was spending the first part of our days with Jesus. That never got old. It was where we settled the plans and concerns of the day. The Lord led us to pray for our needs depending on others to support the varied ministries of the farm. It was his way to keep us going. “Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness and all these things will be given to you also.” Yes, at times we looked at each other smiling, “He who endures to the end will be saved.” 😊 That was when we learned to depend on his strength, not ours. “Establish the work of our hands Lord.”
As we closed the doors, which never closed properly, evangelical churches had formed in our adjoining towns so young people had choices of places to meet. Our Trinity benefitted when many chose to attend there. Some became local missionaries with groups in barns, imagine that! and in homes. When Debbie I., a single gal with CRU, told me once she was on her way to Kazakhstan alone with all of her possessions in a trunk, not knowing where she would be living, I was amazed at her faith. But we needed to pray!
So many stories to tell yet I could only capture these few. So, we have a plan. We would really love to hear your story which can be added to the FB Freedom Farm page. We’ll be watching.
“When I get to the glorious city and the saints all around me appear,
I hope that someone will tell me, “It was you who invited me here.”
