The Healing Farm - Redbird Willow Farm

It's an usually warn day in Alabama and I find myself strolling though a farm just beyond the lake, in Anniston. The owner of the farm, Michele Hornsby. tells us every animal's name as we walk, when they arrived at the farm, how they got there, when they were born. She knows them. She loves them. They each greet her in their own way. Sheldon, the 15 year old tortoise gently hisses at her because he is in the middle of his morning salad. Willie the Wallaby, just 6 months old, peeks his little head out of the pouch she is carrying as she walks. Molly the pot belly pig, waddles out for a greeting before rooting around in the ground again in the shade. Dakota, the 12 year old wooly miniature donkey, pushes the other miniatures away so that she can get all the snuggles. Juno, the alpaca who was recently diagnosed with cancer, comes over for a gentle greeting then saunters away. Kevin, the kangaroo, was sound asleep as a nocturnal animal, in his peaceful shed. She awakens him and he slowly comes out, takes a look at us in his grass field, hops over to see us a little more closely, then goes back to her on his way back to the shade.

This happens over and over again with the goats, the llamas with hilarious haircuts that make them look like cartoon characters, the miniature horses, the GIANT flemish rabbits who are topping out at 20 pounds, and even the Zebu cows who don't always behave with guests... Each one acknowledges her as Mother of this farm, as she takes us on a stroll through her "garden". Here, she is beloved.

The animals arrived here for various reasons. First, it started with the goats. They needed help clearing some of the land, so she and her husband got some goats, the cute kind. As Michele says, "the cute ones don't exactly clear land." So they kept the Nigerian Dwarfs but got some heartier goats who would get to work. After that, she started thinking about llamas. After some research they found a llama in Oklahoma. And that's where the story gets really interesting.

The woman who owned the farm in Oklahoma was downsizing her farm due to the recent loss of her husband. When Michele called to inquire about the llamas, she soon found out her name was Justine. It took Michele's breath away when she heard the name. They brought the llama to the farm and lo and behold, Justine was pregnant. Apparently, since llamas gestate for 11 months (can you imagine), it's hard to tell when they are pregnant. Justine gave birth to her baby on International Bereaved Mother's Day, a day that Michele and her husband Ray knew too much about. For added emphasis, the baby was born very near the place where Michele's only son, Justin, took his own life four years before.

"When Willow was born, that was the point where I knew what this place was to be," says Michele.

Now there is a little stone bench, right there were Justin passed, that overlooks the pond where Rudy the Scottish Highland Cow is now cooling himself. There is a huge cross erected right beside the pond where Willow was born to call attention to Jesus AND the need to talk about suicide and mental health, a typical taboo topic.

Michele knew from her own grief journey that finding people to be with and to talk openly with about such heavy topics of suicide, the family and friends left behind, the life of the person who is gone, mental health, motherhood of someone who is no longer with them had been difficult. In the beginning of their own grief journey they had thrown themselves into speaking at conventions and meetings about suicide prevention, telling their story over and over again. Michele would come back home and it would take weeks to recover. She was telling people how they should approach their own grief without listening to her own words and applying them to her own life. She spent time in the pastures and the pens "shoveling poop" and realized that this, weirdly, was her therapy. Doing something physical everyday, getting her hands dirty, connecting with the animals, this was where she was receiving her own healing. This was where she fought it out with God. This was where she was receiving her own ongoing restoration. With a heart for others, her next best right step was to open up the gates for others in the same horrible situation. 

A long time friend of more than 20 years had come to volunteer at the farm many times. She just loved the animals and loved her friend Michele. Sadly, when her own son's addiction led to an overdose, she was already in the right place. The same woman who had tended to the animals just for the joy, now needed the farm and the animals more than ever. Michele says that she has the habit of naming the animals with the same letter of the type of animal. Mostly she can remember them all! When the kangaroo arrived it was only fitting that they named him after her friend's son, Kevin. Now her friend works at the farm everyday. She was tending to Willie the Wallaby as we were leaving, who would be Kevin's pasture buddy on the farm,

"When Justin first passed people turned their heads because it's there biggest walking nightmare. I wanted to give a place for mothers to be able to say and hear their children's names," said Michele.

Then others started asking about naming the animals after their own lost children. Molly was lost to pneumonia at the age of 26 and she had a love for pot bellied pigs, hence, Molly the pig.

Their first comfort visit was a woman who was starting chemotherapy and who had always wanted to hold baby goats. Her husband found out about the farm on the internet, so she came for 2 hours and just sat with the baby goats. There were 20 people just like that - in the middle of their own grief or crisis - who submitted stories for the ability to have the session and 20 were sponsored that year for Christmas. That set them on a path for realizing the beauty of the comfort sessions.

Michele trains the animals to be able to be with people, but some of the animals have surprised her with there intuition. Amazingly, Michele regularly takes the llamas and the miniature horses to the nursing home and to hospice. People ask her all the time how she trained these farm animals to WALK INTO THOSE TINY ROOMS AND BEHAVE. She says she's getting too much credit. Yes, they are trained on a lead and how to get into a trailer but that's the extent of the training. They walk right into those rooms and have a calming effect on everyone in there. Remarkably, in the hospice rooms, the llamas who are not exactly cuddlers, will walk up to someone in their bed who is very near death, and press their heads to the person's foreheads. Michele says, "It is so beautiful to see every time, and I certainly didn't train them for that. They just know."

The programs vary at the farm and in town. Visitors to the farm can get tours, schedule comfort sessions, eat a meal in a clear dome among the llamas. Adults with disabilities come and volunteer to make the food for the animals and they just love it. There are field trips and there are families that visit laughing and smiling and taking pictures.

Michele gets quiet and says those memories being made are important. She knows first hand how quickly lives can change and memories become the only thing remaining.

"I was home the day Justin died. I had been decorating for a couple of birthdays that we were going to host. Justin was 26, back home, in recovery from his addiction, recovering from surgery from an accident," Michele says. He spoke to her in the hall and said he was going on a walk out back. That was the last time she ever saw him.

She says that other moms need to know that there will be moments when you can't get off the floor but there is always a choice.

"It was like losing both of my arms and both of my legs and being sucked off the planet. The first year you are in shock and functioning the best you can. The second year you are awake and you feel everything. It is the more challenging part of the grief. The first year was a shock but now all your emotions are fully in check. The second everything (birthday, anniversary of their death, holidays) is hitting harder because now you are genuinely feeling all of it. Then you are dropped back on earth without legs and arms and you have to figure out how to live again and to walk again. Being a mom was my purpose - to be Justin's mom. I was a single mom for a long time and it was me and Justin. I had to learn how to do everything again. My purpose was gone. I turned into a wallflower."

Now Michele does the decorating for birthday events at the farm and while it used to be triggering, she believes that facing fears head on is the only way to conquer them.

"If you decide to let happiness in you can walk hand and hand with your grief and your happiness at the same time. The grief never goes away. We all have things that we carry that are hard. You have to choose to fight those monsters and keep being positive in the face of sheer darkness. Now I'm fighting some of those same demons that my son had to fight in his addiction. It's a choice."

Now, at the farm, Michele says she actually feels closer to God and to Justin here, amidst the animals and the pastures. She says that everything here is about him.

I knew I had to wrap our time together, though selfishly I wanted to sit and listen to this fierce woman talk all day.

I asked her, "Since this place is all about Justin, please tell me what he was like."

She gets a sweet smile on her face and says that he always had the biggest most beautiful brown eyes. To the point where when he was little, she would play the song 'Brown-Eyed Girl' and change the words to Brown-Eyed Boy and they would dance. People everywhere now sing that and send videos to her of the song being changed. He had a sense of kindness for others that was rare. He noticed things about people and what they needed. He always loved music, even as a kid. Frank Sinatra, Ray Charles, and so many others - Justin was a big fan and played their music often. He had a sense of humor and a smile that would light up the room. "He was so very charming, such a kind young man." He was so kind that she wrote a children's book about him called Just In Time to Be Kind. ( The book will be released October 1, 2024 but pre-orders are available now on Amazon).

I could barely keep it together at this point but had to ask if we could pray for her and the farm before we left. I ugly cried through it but felt God with us in the midst of the sadness. The words that kept coming to mind was restoration. What love can go through and in the worst misery imaginable was staggering.

Whether you find yourself in your own grief or crisis or whether you just want to experience the healing power of God's creatures and His presence, please visit the Redbird Willow Farm, in Anniston, just beyond the lake. You will be changed.

The Redbird is for those cardinals that come and visit to remind us of our loved ones who have passed and the Willow, well, for Justine's baby who prances around the farm that reminds us all of the choice of hope.

Redbirdwillowfarm.com

1103 Lenlock Lane,  Anniston, AL 36206

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