The Hardest Road Leads to the Best View
There’s a saying that the hardest road leads to the best view. I used to roll my eyes at that kind of advice, brushing it off as one of those Pinterest-worthy quotes people slap on a sunset photo. But out here on the farm, I’ve come to understand it in a whole new way—sometimes through sweat, sometimes through laughter, and often through a whole lot of chaos.
One morning not long ago, I decided to take a different path with my chores. Instead of my usual routine, I thought I’d tackle the farthest corner of the pasture first—the one that requires a hike up a steep, rocky hill. The animals don’t usually venture that far, but Henry the donkey had been especially adventurous lately, and I figured I’d better check on things.
I set off with buckets in hand, boots slipping on the damp ground, muttering to myself about why on earth I was doing this before sunrise. Halfway up, I realized why most people avoid this route: it’s exhausting. By the time I reached the top, I was gasping for air, questioning every life choice that had led me to hauling feed instead of sipping lattes in some cozy café.
But then I looked up.
The view stopped me in my tracks. Rolling fields glistened with morning dew, the barn stood in the distance framed by a streak of orange sky, and Henry—yes, that rascal donkey—was silhouetted on the ridge like he was posing for a movie poster. For a second, everything was still. Peaceful. Beautiful. The kind of moment you wish you could bottle up and save for the harder days.
Of course, the serenity didn’t last long. Henry spotted me, brayed loud enough to scare a flock of birds, and immediately tried to snatch the bucket out of my hands. The “majestic donkey on the ridge” turned back into the carrot-obsessed clown I know too well. I stumbled backward, nearly tumbled down the hill, and ended up chasing him in circles like we were starring in some slapstick comedy routine.
Still, even in the chaos, I couldn’t shake that view. If I hadn’t dragged myself up that miserable hill, I wouldn’t have seen the sunrise spread across the valley. I wouldn’t have caught that perfect glimpse of Henry pretending to be king of the mountain. I wouldn’t have had the reminder that some rewards only come after the struggle.
It hit me later that the same thing applies to life outside the farm. The hardest roads—the challenges, the setbacks, the messes—are usually the ones that shape us the most. They’re frustrating in the moment, sure, but they also lead to the most meaningful payoffs.
That day, I trudged back down the hill muddy, tired, and with Henry still braying at my side. But my heart felt lighter. The climb was worth it. The view was worth it. And the lesson stuck: sometimes you’ve just got to take the harder road, because at the top, there’s something waiting that makes the journey unforgettable.
The hardest road leads to the best view. And sometimes, that view comes with a donkey.
