let not your hearts be troubled
A farmer in the North of Ireland had only one son. He was 25
and was interned for being a member of the IRA.
The farmer wrote to his son in
prison and said he missed him very much as he had no one to plant the potatoes
in the back field. He himself was now too old. The son wrote back saying, for
goodness sake don’t touch the back field that is where I hid the guns.
The following night three truck loads of British army
soldiers rolled up to the farm and spent the night digging the back field. They
found nothing. The farmer wrote again to his son telling him what had happened
and saying he did not understand it.
The son wrote back saying “now you can
plant the potatoes”.