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.
     


        

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.

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!
     
       

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! 
     

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. 

When I was a girl...

       My sister, Lorraine, and I love to reminisce. You see, we're only two years, three and a half months apart in age and we always played together as children.
     So? Well, back in the 40's we played...dolls or house, school (Lorraine was always the teacher), jacks (we became pros), jump rope (we knew all the jingles to jump to), clamping skates onto our shoes and roller skating down the sidewalk, paper dolls... Oh yes, paper dolls. We would cut clothes from the old Sears catalog, making sure we cut tabs on the shoulders so they would stay on. Sections of toilet paper made wonderful sheets and blankets for their match box beds. Evenings and Saturday mornings we'd listen to favorite radio programs. We had a wonderful childhood. We shared a double bed and were best friends.
     We had a ritual we repeated to each other every night. We both still remember it word for word.
     "Good night, Anita." 
     "Good night, Lorraine."
     "Don't forget to say your prayers."
     "Okay, I won't, don't you either."
     "Okay, I won't. Good night."
     "Good night."
     But we didn't stay children forever... Lorraine became a teenager first. I remember one day asking if she'd like to play house with me. I'll never forget the look on her face. It was one of not wanting to hurt me but yet not wanting to play...or maybe wanting to play but thinking she was too old... 
     Anyway, that was a defining day in my life. She made new friends and went away to a Christian high school. 
     I was also growing up and changing. Dolls and toys were put away. Friends (including boys), cars (even though I didn't drive until after I was married), music, all became my focus. 
     Then college, marriage, children, etc. took all my time and Lorraine's too. She lived on the west coast, and still does, I live in Michigan. I'm ashamed to say we seldom ever communicated. Oh, once in a while we did.
     Now, we're both getting older, and we love to talk on the phone reminiscing about our childhood, sharing with each other about our daily lives, our mistakes in life, our successes, our hopes and dreams, to brag about our grandchildren, etc. 
     When I was a girl life was simple. We didn't have a lot, money was scarce, but we loved what we had. To go back and share our memories is a favorite pastime today. Thanks for the memories, Lorraine...I love you.