I grew up on a farm in the Panhandle of Texas. In the recesses of my heart, it will always be "home." I loved wheat harvest. Golden heads of ripened wheat are one of God's inspiring portraits in this world. Mom would bring lunch to the field. I remember drinking sweet tea out of a quart ma- son jar complete with the two-part brass lid, the ice causing the glass to sweat in the hot June sun. I loved it all. Driving with dad down the "turnrow" in the morning…