Here's How We Started...

It was Friday, the beginning of the fourth of July weekend. 1958. Jerry wanted to join the rest of his family at the lake for swimming, playing, eating, water skiing, etc. His mother said, "No! If I can't go to camp meeting, I'm staying home!" Jerry finally gave in to her and drove the two of them to Gladwin, Michigan to a campground outside of town. Jerry's dad had died of cancer several years before, and Jerry,  being the only child still living at home, worked for Dow Chemical Co. and cared for his mother.

Anita had completed her freshman year of college in South Dakota and had returned to her parents home in Winona Lake, Indiana. She had a job lined up for the summer. Her parents and brother were leaving on a two-week speaking trip to several Eastern states and ending with the second week of speaking each day at the Gladwin, Michigan camp.

But alas, her job wasn't ready for a summer worker yet! It would be a couple of weeks before she could start working! Anita quickly packed a suitcase and joined her family on the two-week trip.

July 3, 1958, Jerry and Anita were introduced to each other by Anita's new friend, Mary Morse. Oh, now Jerry brought his mother to camp every day all day for the weekend and every evening for the next week! And then parting was such sweet sorrow!

They wrote letters to each other every day, not knowing when they would see each other again! Anita's job started so she was busy every day now. One day in Jerry's letter he said he had a long weekend coming up and would like to drive down to visit! Oh, how exciting! But when Anita told her parents they said, "Oh no. We'll be gone again for that weekend. He'll have to pick a different time." So, in my letter that day I wrote that it wasn't a good weekend for him to come because I'd be home alone. What a disappointment for both of us!

Then to make things more complicated, I got a phone call from a guy I had dated and had been writing to, before Jerry. He said he was on his way from Seattle to Wilmore, Kentucky, where his parents lived, but was stopping here to see me! Oh oh. His family was driving up from Kentucky to pick him up! Thank goodness I had written to Jerry not to come!

On the day Burt was to arrive I worked hard and fast to get our house ready for overnight company! I had never been a hostess before but I did what I thought my mother would do! Then I took a taxi to the depot to meet him. He had a huge smile! I admit we made a nice couple. We took another taxi back to my parent's house to wait for his family to arrive. He sat on the sofa beside me and put his arms around me for our first kiss! But I resisted. Oh, "What's wrong?" he asked and then answered his own question. "Oh, it's another guy, isn't it?" My response was, "It's been such a long time, Burt!"

His parents arrived soon after that episode and I was relieved. I don't remember what I did about supper that evening or even what his parents did for the evening. Burt and Nellie and I took his parents car and had a fun evening.

The next morning, I woke up very early and began thinking about breakfast. Oh, what was I going to fix for breakfast? I knew there weren't enough eggs for a whole family. There were no stores nearby, but there was the Eskimo Inn Resturant a few blocks away from where I possibly could buy a dozen eggs! I ran a couple blocks, then down a long hill, to the restaurant and politely asked if they would sell a dozen eggs to me. They did! I ran, trudged up the hill, and ran some more to our house. Everyone was still sleeping! Thank the Lord! I cooked a good breakfast of bacon and eggs, toast, juice and coffee! No one even knew I had been in such a panic!

After breakfast, it was time for them to get on the road headed for Kentucky. Burt began begging me to go home with them for the weekend! I could be Nellie's guest, not his, he said. Nellie and I were very good friends, but somehow I just didn't feel right about it, so I refused nicely but firmly.

Their car had a problem that morning! It wouldn't start! Burt and his dad worked and worked to start it and finally had to call someone to help them. After several hours it was repaired and they were on their way.

I was totally exhausted! As they drove off I fell onto the sofa and immediately fell asleep! All of a sudden I woke up to someone knocking loudly on the front door! I jumped up, ran to the door, and opened it, not knowing who it was.

There stood Jerry! He was grinning! I was in shock! We went into the living room, sat on the same sofa Burt and I had sat on. Jerry put his arms around me and pulled me to himself to kiss me. I eagerly responded!

What a close call! Jerry had been driving around town, for at least an hour, looking for our street and house! What if he had arrived while Burt and his family were still there working on their car?! Thank the Lord for His Timing!

We drove to Warsaw, the nearby town and got him a room in a hotel. The next day, Mother was returning home by bus. Jerry and I were there to meet her. She was very surprised! We explained quickly this was his only weekend off work and he had a room at a hotel. Mother smiled and nodded her approval. Later she called some friends about a block away who often rented a room out. Yes, it was available and Jerry could stay there.

So this was how we started! But, there's more. The summer was flying by. Soon I'd be returning to South Dakota for school. Jerry said if I went there we'd have to say a final good-bye. Oh no. We were both very sad. There was a college in Michigan I could transfer to. Spring Arbor College. So, that was it. I transferred and the rest is history! We became engaged at Christmas time and were married on June 13, 1959.

Happy Birthday Mother

Happy Birthday Mother

My Best Friends

My Best Friends

My Sister Lorraine

My Sister Lorraine

The Watch Dog

Our city used to do a school census every two years. For several years I was one of their census takers. I had to go to each house in my area, ask how many children, how many babies, were any handicapped, etc. People, for the most part, were friendly. Once in a while I'd meet some one who was in a hurry and didn't want to answer my questions. My area was mainly in the country so I drove from one house to another. I'd often meet dogs and cats, and other pets. 
     One house had a Doberman Pinscher and some geese in the yard. I was very nervous about the dog but didn't bother about the geese. When I was leaving I asked the woman if her dog would bother me  She laughed and said, "No, the dog is friendly, it's the geese you need to worry about! They'll attack you!"
     Another place as I drove in the driveway was met by a medium size dog running out to my car, barking loudly. I rolled my window down and said hello. I talked about the weather and what a nice day it was. He stopped barking and just looked at me. I explained why I was there and told him he was a good dog. Then I opened the door and got out. He walked up to the house with me and even up onto the porch with me. I knocked on the door. 
     A man opened the door and looked at his dog. I was explaining why I was there when he interrupted and asked how I got out of my car! I said I just opened the door and got out. 
     "Well," he said, "This is a watch dog. He doesn't let anyone come in my yard. What did you do?"
     I told him I didn't do anything except talk to the dog. Then I said what an intelligent dog he had and that the dog must have sensed that I love dogs and am not afraid of them. He must have known I wasn't there for any 'no good' reason so he let me walk up to the house.
     The man must have accepted my reasoning because he kept the dog with him and let me walk back out to my car. Oh, there were no children living in this house...

Storm of 1948

     We were living in Covington, Oklahoma in the middle 40's. It's a small town near Enid. 
    In the spring of 1948 we were having a normal day of playing. Mother had walked to the grocery store, several blocks away on Main Street. She had given us, children, instructions to stay at home until she returned. 
     It was a very hot day, the air was still and sultry. Suddenly the wind began to blow strong gusts. There was an eerie feeling in the air. 
     Our neighbor, Mrs. Powell, came rushing in asking where Mother was. We explained she had gone to the store so she instructed us to stay in the center bedroom because a storm was coming. Then she ran home to care for her own family, as the wind picked up speed.
     It became very dark from the storm clouds. Lightning was flashing and thunder booming and roaring. It was very scary.
     We kids, Richard 12 years, Lorraine 10 years, Anita seven and Billy four, all hid under the bed in Mother's and Daddy's bedroom.  Daddy was off holding a revival somewhere far away in another state. But, oh, where was Mother? Shouldn't she be home from the store by now? 
     Suddenly she came bursting in the door with her bag of groceries. She had run all the way home, so frightened for her children and for herself.
     We were so glad to have her home with us. She immediately said, "Come kids, we've got to pray." We all knelt beside the bed and prayed for God's protection in this very bad storm. Suddenly we heard the living room window blown from the inside out! But we were safe. 
     Finally the storm was over. We, along with all the neighbors, went outside to see the damage. Trees were blown down all over. Glass and debris was scattered everywhere. Siding and roofing were ripped off houses, our included. But all the people were okay.
     We heard a report of a town, Woodward, that was completely flattened except for a couple buildings. We had experienced the tail end of a tornado. 
     To this day, I am petrified of storms. Wind and lightning have a bad effect on me. I'm sure it all comes from the fear of the storm in 1948.
     When Daddy came home it was decided we needed to move back to Iowa. We moved that summer but not to Iowa. We lived in Illinois for a year and then back home to Iowa.
     


        

Our Oklahoma Chickens

We were living in Covington, Oklahoma. I was about seven years old. My family had little money. We moved to Oklahoma so we wouldn't have the huge coal bills we had in Iowa. Daddy traveled all over North America and sent money home to Mother. He was gone weeks at a time.

In order to provide meat, for our family of six, Mother decided to raise roosters. She bought 100 cute little yellow chicks. Our garage was changed from a play school to a chicken house! Lorraine and I were disappointed to lose our school but we loved the baby chicks! Our back yard was fenced in so as they grew the chickens could scratch and eat.

I love hearing roosters crow early in the morning and it probably goes back to our days of raising chickens!

We were in for a surprise! We began finding eggs! One every day! One of the chickens was a hen! She laid one egg a day except on Sunday! We decided she must be a Free Methodist (the church denomination we belonged to) chicken because she didn't work on Sunday!

An old couple lived around the corner from us and our back yards butted up together. They had a beautiful garden with all kinds of fresh vegetables!

Every now and then we'd hear and see the man yelling and waving his arms and then we'd hear chickens squawking! Oh no, our chickens were flying up to the top of the fence and down into the neighbor's garden! He was very angry with the chickens and with my mother.

Poor Mother. She didn't like upsetting our neighbors but she was committed to providing meat for her family.

Since Daddy was gone most of the time our pastor came over to help Mother when it was time to butcher some of the chickens. We, kids, stayed in the house during the butchering but then helped out with plucking the feathers. Mother was raised on a farm so she knew how to prepare a chicken for cooking or freezing.

One day after butchering several, Mother got an idea...

She carefully cut the chickens in pieces and wrapped them in freezing paper. Then she took two of the packages and walked around the corner to the old couple who hated our roosters. They were so surprised to see her and probably didn't even want to go to the door!

Mother apologized for the roosters getting into their garden and then held out two packages of freshly butchered and packaged chickens! "I want you to have these," she said with a smile. They were so surprised and gratefully accepted them. They never yelled at our chickens again!

She didn't just give them one. She generously gave them two chickens! That's  my mother! What a lasting impression she made on us children that day and on the neighbors! I still remember it like it was yesterday.

Glen's 1st Race

   This was written by my dad several years ago. It's a delightful story. Enjoy! 

    It was a cold winter day in Iowa; snow was abundant, bobsleds and cutters (all horse drawn) were everywhere. One such vehicle was gliding recklessly over the icy trail—called by the citizens, of all things, the turnpike—that led from the village to the farm home of Andrew and Rose Williamson.

    Rose, at that moment the mother of six, was waiting most impatiently, for the doctor to arrive, and incidentally, Glen too! You see, the doctor and Glen were racing; Glen’s first race, not the doctor’s. But practice isn’t everything—Glen beat him! It isn’t everyone that wins his first race, is it? Poor Rose! At that moment, the mother of seven!

    December 22, 1909, Glen Edgar was born to Andrew and Rose Williamson, their seventh and last child.

Sisters?

    Lorraine and I are only two and a half years apart in age. We've always been as different as night and day! We didn't look anything alike as children. I had dark hair and she had light hair. We have many memories of our childhood. I've written about some of them in another story here on this blog. Lorraine was going to be a teacher and I was going to be a mother! Lorraine was ambitious and accomplished both goals.
     It seems that as we've grown older we've also grown alike! Our hair is now close to the same. We've had folks get us mixed up when we've gone somewhere. We've been asked if we're twins if we're at the same place at the same time! It's really quite comical!
     Here's a funny experience we had a few years ago.
     We were together on a train going from Portland to Seattle. There we rented a car and drove up to Stanwood where our parents lived in a lovely senior community.
     We were both dressed for travel. Lorraine had on black slacks and a black sweater with a white shirt underneath, the white collar on the outside. I had on a dark brown pant suit with a white shirt. 
     We noticed the women across the aisle looking at us often and smiling. We'd smile back. Then we decided to go get some coffee and a bite to eat. As we stood up the women smiled even bigger smiles and nodded!
     We thought this was strange but let it go.
     When we went back to our seats one of the women said, "Hello, are you sisters?" 
     "Yes, we are sisters." I replied rather surprised.
     "We thought so!" She said enthusiastically! "What diocese are you from?" 
     "What? Oh, no, we're not Sisters, we're sisters...blood sisters. We're not even Catholic! Oh dear."
     The women apologized over and over, but we assured them it was fine. 
     We've laughed over this episode so many times. We knew we were perfect (!) but we didn't know other folks thought we were! When we told our dad about this experience he laughed and laughed. Being a Protestant minister, to picture his two daughters as Catholic nuns, was quite a funny sight.
     I have deep respect for the Catholic Church as well as my own Evangelical Church. Living according to God's Word, believing that Jesus is the Son of God and accepting Jesus as personal Savior is what matters.

You Want Me To Do What? or A Seed Planted

 There were a few years, when my children were young, that I took care of other children in my home. One sweet little girl was Laura. Her mother, Shellie, was a single mom, a school teacher and guardian of her own teenage brother, Roger.

  Shellie brought Laura to my house every morning and picked her up in the afternoon after school. We became good friends, and visited often.

  After about a year and a half Shellie said they would be moving to Arizona as soon as school was over for the year. I felt bad because I would miss them but knew it was her decision.

  One day as I went about my housework I realized that in all our visiting and talking we had never talked about God or Jesus or church, none of the things that really matter in life. I began to feel like God was speaking to me about this. I didn’t know what I could do about it at this point because she’d soon be leaving.

  One evening I left all my family at home while I went to buy groceries. As I drove I heard a still small voice telling me to go and visit Shellie before I went home. That was ridiculous and I couldn’t imagine why I felt so strongly that I should go to her apartment. Then the thought came that this was a time when I could talk to Shellie about God and my beliefs!

  What? Lord, you want me to do what??? I couldn’t do that. She hadn’t asked me what I believe. We had never gotten that personal in our conversations.

  The feeling became so strong that I began to argue with God! It was evening, she was probably watching TV. No, the TV is off. Laura would be up demanding our attention so we couldn’t talk seriously. Laura is already in bed asleep.  Roger would be there too so we couldn’t have a conversation with just the two of us. Roger is studying in his bedroom.

  I had to drive past their apartment house on my way home from the supermarket. I was driving slowly, still arguing with God. When I came to her driveway...my car turned in! I prayed as I slowly walked up to the door, “Lord, I can’t believe I’m doing this. You’d better be with me! Please tell me what to say.”

  I knocked lightly on the door. Shellie answered it with a surprised look on her face. “May I come in?” I asked nervously.

  As I looked around she invited me to sit down. The TV was off. Laura was already asleep for the night. Roger was in his bedroom studying! There we were, Shellie and me, sitting together in the quietness of her living room.

  I began to explain why I was there. She said very earnestly, “I’ve always wondered what your beliefs are! Please tell me.”

  For the next few minutes I told her about my relationship with Jesus. He is alive and is a living reality within me! He is my very own personal Savior. She thanked me for sharing with her. She didn’t make any move to ask Jesus into her life. But I feel I did what God asked me to do and perhaps, I planted a seed.

  Thank You, Lord, for going with me that evening, for giving me courage, for helping me to obey and most of all, for speaking through me. Please help her, in Your Timing, to invite You into her life as her own personal Savior.

What More Could Any Little Girl Want? (Repost)

     Through most of my elementary school days it seemed that Daddy was gone away more than he was home. During those years he traveled as an evangelist.

       As I look back, I remember the warm, secure feeling I experienced when he was home for a few days, after having been gone for two or three months---a feeling all warm and cozy as I went to bed at night. After all my Daddy was home! What more could any little girl want?

       Always, on the day of his arrival home, excitement ran high. And always, after things settled down to a fairly normal pitch, he would open his big, black suitcase and take out a present for each of us. He never forgot!

       It's a natural thing to want to share all the days events with the ones we love. I used to store up in my mind all the wonderful, exciting things Molly, my best friend, and I discovered as we played. But, somehow, I never seemed to have a chance to tell Daddy all the things that are so important to a little girl of seven. I still remember the day when it all came to a head.

       Daddy had come home again. My little brother, Billy, was sitting on his lap; my older brother, Richard, and sister, Lorraine, were competing for his attention. I waited for my turn as long and as patiently as I could, but suddenly I could wait no longer. I stomped my foot and shouted, "It's my turn to talk to Daddy!"

       Everyone stopped talking and looked straight at me in complete surprise. I'm still not sure whether I or the rest of the family was more startled. There was complete silence for a few seconds, then Mother came to the rescue.

       "OK," she said. "Everyone be quiet now and let Anita talk."

       But in that very moment, all those big, important, wonderful things I had stored up in my mind to share with Daddy, suddenly became small, and I found I had nothing to say at all. Everyone was waiting to hear what I had to tell, but all I could do was stand there. Two big tears began to trickle down my cheeks. Then Daddy's long arms reached out and folded around me. I began to sob. Tears flowed freely. Then, as he held me close, I stopped crying, and that warm, secure feeling spread through me again. After all, my Daddy was home! What more could any little girl want?

My Own Personal Swami

     This goes back to the 80's. I had a friend from India named Chandana. I loved her name and I loved her. I've lost track of her over the years and I'm so sorry. 
     She invited me to her house one day to meet with a man who was visiting her family. The man was a Swami from India. She told me he was interested in helping the people who were less fortunate. His interest, of course, was mainly India. Chandana thought it would be good for him to hear of what some Americans were doing to help poor folks in other countries. She knew our church had an interest in Haiti and that many, myself included, had gone there to work.
     So I went to visit the Swami. I didn't know what to expect and found him dressed in orange cotton pants with an orange matching cotton long shirt, which hung over his pants. He was barefoot, sitting on the floor, with his legs folded, Indian style. Chandana pulled a chair up for me. Then she introduced us and explained to the Swami why I was there. His English was quite good.
     First of all he told me all about the wonderful work he was involved in, in India. Chandana reminded him why I was there.      
     He asked me questions about Haiti and our  involvement. I tried to answer his questions but they were so cut and dried, I found myself telling him all about Ebenezer Glenn Orphanage in Dessalines, Haiti. It's the most wonderful Orphanage and God is there!
     He made a critical comment to me about Christianity. I explained to him that Christianity is one of the religions in the world but that while I am Christian, I'm Evangelical Christian. There's a big difference, I said. I went on to explain that I have asked Jesus for forgiveness of my sins and invited Him to live in my heart.
      I then told the story in the third chapter of John about Nicodemus going to Jesus at night and asking how to receive eternal life. I boldly said, "Jesus is alive and is a living reality within me!" 
     He told me he had talked to many Christian leaders all over the world and he had never heard anything like that before! He took a paper and pen from his shirt pocket and said he wanted to write down what I had said! 
     He was writing in his own language so I have no idea what he wrote. Our visit ended and I never saw the Swami again. Driving home I knew I had just experienced something very special. The Holy Spirit had done the talking, I was just the instrument! What a privilege. 
     I have prayed for him over the years. Only God knows the result of our visit that day. For a while I felt guilty because perhaps I didn't say enough. But, I've left this Swami in God's Hands. I'm hoping and praying that he studied Christianity in a whole different light and that I'll see him in heaven some day!
     
       

Homesick

     One of my first students as an ESL tutor was a little Japanese boy about six years old, Susumu. He was a delightful boy. We became good friends and he worked hard for me. Children learn to speak a new language so quickly. I worked with him for one hour five days a week, three days at home and two days at school. 
     A friend gave me a map of Japan,  so one day I took it to school with me. It happened to be all written in Japanese! I couldn't read it. I took it out of my bag and before I could even open it out, Susumu grabbed it! He had noticed the Japanese writing. He ran to center of the room, opened the map out full size, spread it out on the floor and laid on it! 
     Then I knew...sometimes he looked so sad, sometimes he looked unhappy. He was homesick! This was as close as he could get to Japan! There he laid on the floor, on the map. I let him lay there. Finally he looked up at me. I smiled. He slowly got up. We folded the map together. We talked about Japan and had a slow relaxed hour. I think he liked that. We bonded that day. 
     The family returned to Japan after their five years with the company here. I've lost contact with them. I pray for their well being and safety. 
     I wish I knew how they are now.

My Best Mother's Day Gift

Mother's Day is almost here. I'm writing this story a little early just because I thought of it the other day. 

     Our church used to honor a mother for Mother's Day by making her Mother of the Year! Everyone loved it and looked forward to the surprise of whom ever would be honored each year. 

     One year I was on the committee to choose the person for that year. We had folks write their candidate on a paper along with why that person was worthy to be honored.

     When we read the sheets one name stood out. It was my job, to find out all the information about her past and present, write a paragraph or two to be read on Sunday morning as they bestowed upon her the honor of being Mother of the Year. I took my job seriously and wrote down all the facts her daughter gave to me, in an interesting way. It was an important job and I loved this worthy lady.

     Sunday morning arrived and I was so excited. We arrived early so I could make sure everything was ready. We had a sash to drape over her shoulder and across her dress and a bouquet of red roses. We had a gold plaque made up with her name printed on it. It was already up on the pulpit. 

     Finally, it was time to start. I was sitting where I could see her face. The Sunday School Superintendent got up to make the presentation...

     Wait a minute... My heart stopped! He was reading the wrong name! Oh no! What had happened? All my work and something was very wrong. 

     Everyone was looking at me and smiling! Why were they smiling? Everything was going wrong. Then Jerry said, "Come on, they're waiting for you!" 

     "What? No, it's not me, it's ... " Oh no, what's happened? I can't be the one...I was on the committee! I'd never been so confused.

     Jerry was pulling me along and we were walking up to the front of the sanctuary! Our children were following. That is, all except my baby who was in the nursery. Oh man! What was I supposed to do: cry, smile, run the other way? (I wanted to run out of there) But I obediently walked forward, with my head down and Jerry holding my hand. (I think he knew I wanted to run.) 

     The superintendent was explaining to the congregation why I was so bewildered. To me he explained I had received the most nominations and he had taken them out before I saw them. (Oh, that was not nice.)

     Would you like to know the best part of that mixed up Mother's Day? That afternoon, our children were playing outside in the yard. I went to check on them and what to my wondering eyes...?! My children reenacting the Mother of the Year presentation! I almost cried. To my children I was Mother of the Year! That was the best gift I ever received!

My Friend, Mariko

     I'm having a hard time writing the continuing story of my friend, Mariko, because of the recent tragedy in Japan. I have so many friends in Japan and don't know how to make contact with them.
I'm, of course, praying for them.


     The story continues after Mariko and her family moved back to Japan. We corresponded occasionally. She was growing spiritually. 
     The phone rang one day, Hedeki's voice was unmistakable! He was in town on business! Could we get together for a visit? He didn't have to ask twice! 
     I went to a shop to buy gifts for the family. I knew he'd have gifts for me! We met in the foyer of my church! He had attended the International Bible study class before they moved so he was comfortable meeting there.
     Sure enough, he had gifts for me so we had fun exchanging with each other. We had a good visit and he told me about each one in the family. It was so good to be with him! Then he said, "I must tell you that Mariko is a very good Christian!" I was thrilled. "She wanted me to tell you." I thanked him for sharing such good news with me. Then I said, "But, Hedeki, what about you? Are you a Christian?" 
     "Oh, no," he said, "not yet. Someday I will be, but I'm not ready to yet."
     I became very bold at that moment and said, "But, Hedeki, what if something happens to you, like an accident or sickness, and you were to die. Do you know where you'd go? I'll be praying for you that you'll believe in Jesus." He thanked me.
     A few years after that wonderful day with Hedeki I went to Thailand and had an over night stopover in Japan! I wrote to Mariko and another friend telling them I would be there on a certain day, staying in a certain hotel. I'd love to see them if possible. 
     I bought gifts to take with me and at the last minute bought three instead of two...just in case!
     After a long flight, I arrived in Japan and finally at the hotel. I was greeted by three entire families! I was so glad I bought that extra gift! One friend called another friend, that I had no address for, but I had tutored their children. It was so good to see them too! Even the husbands were there! I've never felt so welcomed in my life!
     What a great visit we had over a meal together! My students had all grown so much! 
     When it was time to say good-bye I took Mariko's hand and said softly, "I'm praying for you."
     She smiled, "Thank you."
     A few years later, I received a note in the mail: "Hedeki and our son are both being baptized!"
     What a thrill to receive that message! I'm still rejoicing! 
     

A Love Story

          I watched as he began playing his guitar and singing. She was staring straight ahead. Then slowly, a smile formed on her lips. She looked at him and he at her. I felt it was a private moment but I couldn't help but watch. Her smile was so sweet. He sang song after song.
     Finally the private concert ended and she was taken back to her room. He put his guitar away. I mustered up some courage as I walked slowly to him. "She really loved your singing. Her smile was so sweet!"
     "Yes, she used to be a professional singer!" he said proudly. We also used to sing together at weddings, at funerals, at churches! We were always singing!"
     She's your wife?" I asked.
     "Yes, she's my girl! When our children came home for weekends we'd spend all Saturday evening singing together as a family! It's a wonderful memory."
     "What happened?" I boldly blurted out.
     "Alzheimer's," he said sadly. "About nine years ago. She's only sixty-three."


     I was visiting my mother in the nursing home when this episode took place. I'll never forget the love I saw in his eyes as he looked at her while singing to her. They were fun songs and she was brought back to recognition as she watched him and listened to him. Some of her smiles were almost sweet laughter!
     I thanked him for sharing with me. I put my hand on his arm, "God bless you."

Do I Have To Cry?

     I was helping teach adult ESL classes evenings. I worked with the beginners. In the middle of the evening both beginners and advanced classes always stopped for a break. 
     One evening during the break I was visiting with a man from Japan who was in the advanced class. We each shared about our families and then I asked if he is Christian. This is an easy question to ask of International people because there are so many religions in the world. His answer was "I am nothing." I replied, "Oh." He quickly added, "Oh, but my wife is Christian!" 
     I smiled and asked what church she was attending.
     He told me the name of a fellowship that is very humanistic. My heart dropped down to my toes and I immediately began praying for her that she would hear the gospel.
     The next week at class this same man asked if I could tutor his little girl in English. She was struggling in kindergarten. 
     I was soon tutoring Sawako an hour a day, five days a week, in their home. I became well acquainted with the family and continued praying for them. 
     One day Mariko asked me if I ever teach Bible! I told her, I sometimes lead Bible studies. This led to a Bible study in their home once a week, with all different nationalities attending. It was very exciting to me.
     During one class Mariko said she wasn't going back to her church any more. When asked why, she told us this experience.
     A long, straight line was drawn on the floor with chalk. Everyone was told to stand at one end, Jesus was at the other end. Then they were instructed to move up the line according to how much they believed in Jesus. 
     Mariko said sadly, "I didn't know what to do! I believe in Jesus! But no one else moved. I walked half way up the line with everyone looking at me. I'm going to find a different church." We had special prayer for her, that she would find the right church where she would learn about God and Jesus.
     The Bible study continued but I was so busy with my family and tutoring I felt I had to change something. 
     A class was started for Internationals on Sunday mornings during the Sunday School hour at my church. It was held in the school building next to our church. It was well attended by several nationalities and was very exciting for me to hear questions and answers from the students, both men and women. 
     One Sunday, surprisingly, only one person came to class, Mariko. We were very good friends so this gave us a time to just talk. I said to her, "Mariko, you talk like a Christian, you act like a Christian, but you've never told me of how or when you became a born again Christian."
     "Oh," she said, "I'm not...I want to be a Christian but I don't know how."
     I was very surprised and then suggested we pray together, I would pray a phrase and she could repeat it, then another phrase and another. 
     She said , "Okay, but do I have to cry?"
     I assured her she didn't have to cry and we began praying a simple prayer of repentance and thanks to God for His Son, Jesus. When we finished and said, "Amen," we looked up and smiled at each other. Then she suddenly burst out in tears! We had a wonderful time of crying together with the Lord!
                                                      More to come!

Climbing Mt Sinai

     Jerry and I were in Egypt. It was a dream come true. We were adventuresome and decided to climb Mt. Sinai! We were with a group of folks, which turned out to be so important and fortunate.
     It wasn't an easy, leisurely trip. We went by bus from our resort, at 1:00 AM! That was hard in itself. When we arrived at the base of the mountain, some went on camels, but Jerry and I enjoyed hiking, so we opted to walk. 
     An unexpected blessing was a full moon! We didn't even need flash lights...
     I'd better add here that neither Jerry nor I were in physical shape for climbing a mountain. But we were determined! A young boy, with a camel, was following us at a close distance. Every few minutes we'd hear him say, "Ride my camel?" We'd smile and say, "No thanks, we want to walk!" 
     Then the mountain began to get steeper. I was getting out of breath. I had to stop and rest every little while. Jerry patiently waited with me. We were at the back of our group...way at the back. 
     The boy with the camel came up every time I stopped to rest. "Lady, you ride my camel?"
     Then he began to get persistent. "Lady, you must ride my camel."
     Finally, he said, "Lady, you can not climb this mountain! You must ride my camel! It is too steep and too far. You can not climb this mountain! You must ride my camel!" I wonder where he learned English!
     Anyway, I knew he was right. I could not climb this mountain. I was exhausted, out of breath, ready to quit. Jerry told me to go ahead and get on the camel. 
     But Jerry still insisted on walking. He wanted to be able to say he walked up Mt. Sinai. The camel passed him and I felt so helpless. He insisted he was okay and not to worry about him. 
     A friend we met on this trip was also alone and she stayed behind to walk with him! I will ever be grateful to her. Just knowing he wasn't alone was very comforting to me. 
     It was the best thing I did on our trip up the mountain! The ride was so smooth, not bumpy like it might seem! It was very scary when the camel stood up, I felt like I was going to fall forward, right over his head! But the camel's boy helped me and once he was standing I was fine. To sit on the camel and be able to look out over the mountains, in the moonlight, is a memory I will never forget.
     Then when we got about two thirds of the way up the boy and his camel stopped. I was informed this was the end of the ride. There would soon be steps to climb and camels can't climb steps! I paid the boy and waited for Jerry and our friend to catch up.
     Then we began the last of the climb. A monk, years earlier, had made stone steps up the last part of the mountain! I became so exhausted again, I had to climb some of the steps on my hands and knees! I couldn't believe it. We finally made it! 
     Jerry has the distinction of saying he walked up Mt. Sinai and I say I rode a camel up Mt. Sinai!
     It was still dark, only the full moon giving us light. At the top of the mountain was a crude shelter where we could buy a hot drink. We didn't. We were allowed inside out of the wind. 
     Finally daylight began to dawn... We watched the sun rise over the mountains! It was beautiful! A sight we will never see again. 
     A group of folks from Germany, had also climbed the mountain and began singing The Doxology, in German. It was so beautiful! I stood in awe! 
     As we watched the sun rise in the east, I turned around and there was the full moon setting in the west. What a beautiful sight to see both sun and moon from the top of Mt Sinai! God is The Creator. How I praised Him. 
                

The most dreaded Disease - Polio

      "Parents: don't allow your children to blow bubbles when chewing bubble gum. Let's do all we can to stop the spread of polio germs." I remember hearing an announcement something like this over the radio in the late 40's. I was in 3rd grade. I still remember it today.
      Folks were getting desperate to do whatever it took to stop this most dreaded disease. 
     In 1949 one of my cousins, Jerry, became very ill. Five days later he died - polio. He was 13 years old. The whole family was devastated. His parents and two brothers, Larry and Jimmy, moved to Wisconsin. I remember his mother, my aunt, saying they would never return to Waterloo, Iowa. 
      I wrote a story about my friend, Eddie, The Most Dreaded Disease. He was an outstanding boy who died of polio.
     There were many other cases that affected our family. There were many more that affected many other families. 
     Today we still hear of folks who were afflicted back in their childhood. There are folks still living in iron lungs today, from the 40's and 50's suffering from polio.
     I have my own story to tell. But luckily my story has a happy ending. Toward evening one day my neck began to feel stiff. Mother gave me an aspirin and I went to bed. In the morning my neck was so stiff I couldn't move my head. 
     I was admitted in the hospital and put immediately in isolation. That meant a private room, nurses and doctors wearing a mask when they came in my room. My food was brought on paper plates with plastic fork and spoon and cup, so they could be thrown away when I finished. No visitors were allowed except my parents. They had to wear a white coat over their clothes and a mask over their noses and mouths. It was a very scary time for my family...and for me! 
     Then a spinal tap was ordered for me. This would tell the doctor if I had polio. I remember this as a very hurtful procedure, plus I was scared. In my mind I could see a big butcher knife. I'm sure it wasn't...
     The results came back and I was no longer in isolation and was released the next day! I had a viral infection and in another few days, I was back to normal.
     I found out how scared my neighbors were when the father of my friend, Becky, told me, "go home and stay on your own sand hill!"
     Being a sensitive child I went home and stayed home for several days. I don't remember ever going to Becky's house again. 
     When my children were small the new vaccine for polio came out. I was so grateful and could hardly wait for it to be available in our town. We stood in line at Cook School, the older children were given sugar lumps with the vaccine in them and the babies received a squirt of the vaccine from an eye dropper. What a miracle! Younger folks today have no idea what it was like having the fear of polio hanging over us. 
     

Swimming in the Creek

     Writing about my cousin, Leroy, has put so many memories in my mind, so I'll just keep writing. 
     On very hot summer days in Iowa we, kids, loved to walk down the road, across the railroad tracks, under the fence, through a farmer's pasture, to a nice cool creek! It was worth the hop, skip and jump, even in the hot sunshine. 
     I loved to dip into the cool water. It appeared to be so clean. But I doubt that it was since it went through a pasture with cows in it! 
     This was back in the early 50's and we, girls, at least among my friends, didn't wear swimsuits! The boys wore old cut off pants. Some of my girlfriends wore shorts, but I didn't have any. I went swimming in an old dress! 
     Swimming in a dress didn't stop me! I learned to dive down and swim under water. I learned how to float. I loved it, even in a dress.
     One night there was a bad storm, trees were blown down and branches and twigs were everywhere. When we went back down to the creek to go swimming, our swimming hole was gone...  A tree was stretching across our clean hole and it was now a muddy pit. We were so disappointed and sad, but we didn't give up. We followed the creek down to the railroad bridge and found another place where we could play and get cooled off.  
     Life is always changing too, just like our old swimming hole. Circumstances change, but we don't give up...we keep going and adjust to new and better ideas.