originally published in the Goering Gazette, July 1989
I remember Mom as being gentle, patient and kind.
One day toward evening, she and Dad went to the sand hill country to get apples, grapes and sand hill plums. They may also have brought some watermelons. The next day, we cooked the fruit in big kettles. Then the juice and as much pulp as we could work through the colander was pressed by hand.
Everything was done by hand then. Then the juice was put into kettles with sugar and back on the stove (woodstove) to cook. Elva and I got to stir to help keep things from burning or scorching. After the needed time when the sample jelled in a dish, the finished product was put ito crocks, etc. for storage for winter use. There were gallons of jelly. Um! Good!
I might also mention here that Mother was an excellent cook. And her bread was always the best. And the jelly sure was good on it. What was striking about this incident, however, was that the folks must have enjoyed this chance to be out by themselves so much when they got home, lo and behold, they had ruined a tire which gone flat and they didn’t notice it. Maybe the soft sand contributed to this.
I don’t remember my parents ever arguing or fighting. I’m sure there had to be some differences at times. But never any scenes. How fortunate we were.
We didn’t always have meat on the table. We ate a lot of fried potatoes and cottage cheese. That with fresh bread and jelly, along with milk, made a good supper.
Oh yes, and then there was the time Dad bought a new combine, looking forward to a good harvest. Then one night the hail storm hit. Can you imagine the disappointment. Incidentally I think maybe that was the year when Walt had such a sore mouth that could not eat, he drank tea. Seems that was the only thing he could drink without so much pain. This was during harvest when Dad cut the hail damaged wheat, and of course, Walt helped him. The wheat was brought to the house in a wagon. And Mom and us girls and maybe some of the younger boys unloaded it into a grainery. We must have been unable to handle a shovel because we unloaded the wheat with buckets — what little wheat there was. No wonder we ate cooked wheat for breakfast!
Now for a few things that were really important to me. It must have the time one of the girls I roomed with when in high school got killed in a car accident. I was quite broke up over it. And I must have talked to Mom about it after the funeral. And she said something to the effect that when you are young as I was it hits one harder and that when one gets older it is easier to accept. And you know she was right.
Also another thing. Shortly before she died, one evening as I was going to go upstairs to bed, I noticed her sitting at the table reading the Bible. I wonder how often she did that. Also I never saw her kneeling in prayer. But I know she prayed for us because after she died, something was missing in my life. I finally figured out it was her prayers for me.
Dad also was a great prayer warrior. When I sat with him at the hospital when he had his knee replaced, one night he suddenly went into prayer for us. And also just before he died. He was sitting in his chair. And he prayed for us. He also told me one how they, he and Mom, took things to God in prayer before they made decisions. Only once they failed to do this. How many of us have a good record like that.