Pioneering Days in Paraguay

The pioneering began with making certain everyone had water to drink and providing shelter. The first huts were built by digging a hole one meter into the earth and then covering it with a tent. Food had to be brought in by wagons, a few days journey away. Beans and rice were the main staple in those earlier days.


Sicknesses due to poor nutrition, mosquitoes and flies, ran rampart and many families lost loved ones. Ants, wild caterpillars and locusts plagued the land and made for difficult beginnings in trying to grow any crops. Although many knew about farming techniques, there was a lot to learn under these harsh circumstances.

Pictured are my grandmother (Liese) and her siblings making adobe bricks to build their home. The red Quebracho tree was used for rafters and beams. Polo Blanco boards became window and door frames. The roof was made with reeds, mixed with clay.

I can’t even imagine life going on like this. But it did. Young people fell in love and got married, as did my grandmother - at age nineteen. In the first six and a half years they were blessed with five children. (I wish I could ask her now how she managed, since I remember her as one who easily laughed and loved to tease.)
Nine years into their marriage, a well digging venture turned into a tragedy, when a rope snapped and my grandfather fell 13 meters to the rocks below. He broke his back and legs and became a paraplegic. By a miracle, they did have one more child a few years later, but grandfather lived in pain for five years, before he died of complications due to his injuries.

In 1949 my grandmother married the only grandfather I ever knew, a wonderful man who had lost his family during the war.

(photo credits - Jakob Neufeld, my great uncle)

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From Russia to Paraguay

Today, as we remember those who gave their lives for our freedom, I also think of my great-grandparents and their families, who fled communist rule in order to allow future generations to have a better life.

In the years between 1922 and 1927 about 21,000 Mennonites left Russia for North America, quite easily acquiring the documents to do so, but after that, under the rule of Stalin, it was nearly an impossibility. Even so, people of varied faiths moved to Moscow in hopes of getting closer to that possibility. Of the 15,000 people who gathered there about 10,000 were sent away in cattle wagons and trains, many never to be heard from again. Finally, in November 1929, after a lot of negotiations, Germany gave permission for all those who were left waiting in Moscow to come.

The Mennonite refugees spent months in military camps, waiting for a country to take them in. Humanitarian Aid Agencies such as the Red Cross, Brothers in Need and M.C.C. cared for them and supplied them with tools and very basic equipment necessary to begin a new life. My great-uncle tells of how they continued to have church services, Sunday School, and young people getting together to sing, even as they waited. They tried to continue with life, children being schooled, each being in charge of certain chores. Canada was an option for those who were healthy, but since many refugees had developed an eye disease (trachoma), they and their families had to opt for another place. Paraguay was chosen by many because they were promised freedom of religion, self-government and military exemption.

In March 1930 the first ocean transport left Germany, followed by six more that spring and summer. It was at least a three week long trip across the Atlantic to Buenos Aires and then a large river boat took them along several rivers to Paraguay. At the end they took a twelve hour (slow) train ride, followed by several days on ox-drawn wagons to the place that M.C.C. had assigned to them in the Chaco, described as “a bare steppe with tall bitter grass which no animal ate.” In this isolated area, with tropical heat, bugs and snakes, our great-grandparents and grandparents were dropped off to begin a life out of nothing.


The photo is of my grandmother's family on the last leg of the journey into the Chaco. The boat captain had given them the mattresses from the boat.
My grandmother was sixteen years old. Her brother, whose written documentation I am using, was twelve when they came to the Chaco. An older brother had already made his own camera in Russia, thus being able to document some of their experiences in this way. I've been told that his camera is on display at the Mennonite Museum in Filadelfia, Paraguay.

What's on My Sidebar?

Today I want to draw your attention to the two photos (below my profile) on my sidebar.

The first one is there in honor of one year of blogging! One year of discovering more about my surroundings and taking in the moments . . . seeing more, taking pictures, savoring more and learning how to share those tid bits of my life. In learning how to share, I've taken some risks in expression by trusting my audience and my writing. And I have to say, it's been surprisingly rewarding! If you are new to this blog, you can read my first entry by clicking on the top photo on my sidebar.

The next photo is one I recently added - if you click on that, you will get to the website of Food for the Hungry. Since Christmas is coming, I've added it to simply give some gift giving ideas. In this past year we have gotten to know the president (of FHCanada) and his wife a little better and we admire their sacrifice, passion and dedication to help the poor. On the website you will find many ideas on how to help on a regular basis or with a single time gift. If you click on "For someone with everything" and then All gifts, you will be amazed as to the practical ways that we can help those in need. With this way of giving, one can give towards a project in honor of someone . . . someone who has everything . . . so that someone who has nothing can be blessed.

There are many options out there. Sometimes we can be overwhelmed with requests. Ask God to show you when and where you can help. Ask your kids what they would like to do. You will be glad you did. So often there is bigger joy in giving than in receiving.

Replacing the Old

One by one, my dried flower arrangements have been discarded or taken to MCC. They've had their time . . . their season. This one still had dried roses in it from my fortieth birthday. A few years ago, when we re-did our bedroom, I gave it a good blow with the hairdryer to try and get some of the dust cleared, and then decided to be on the look -out for something new. Well, I haven't seen anything I really liked and this thing stayed put.

One day, last week, I decided it was time for a trip to Michaels, where I picked up some silk sprays. I had nothing to lose.

I pulled out the dry twigs . . . dust flying in all directions. I noticed the foam was covered with some imitation moss. Guess it would have been a good idea to get some fresh stuff. Then I cut the ivy sprays into smaller stems and stuck them all around the base. Next I lined up three large flowers in the middle and then filled the holes with green stems and more ivy.

I took this picture with a flash because, judging by the color, I must have done that with the dried flowers. Funny how wall colors change with different photo options.

This is a picture taken without the flash. I think the arrangement turned out alright. Better than it was, and easier than one would think.

Faith For Fear Filled Days

I’ve been reading another devotional by Max Lucado, called Every Day Deserves a Chance.

He tells the story of the little girl who is lying on her death bed as her father runs to get Jesus. Lucado has the reader imagining how the sea of humanity parts for this well known and respected leader in the community. When he gets to Jesus, he begs him to come to his house and Jesus follows him. So far so good. But then, on the way and, while the people are pressing in on him, Jesus stops because someone touched Him. Can’t you just imagine what the father is feeling at this point? Precious time is slipping away, time he can’t afford to lose. Others are also expressing some of what he feels, “You see the people crowding against you, and yet you ask, who touched me?”

While the father is anxiously waiting, Jesus takes time to talk to a woman who dared believe that He could heal her, if only she could touch the hem of His garment– one of my favorite Bible stories embedded in this “let’s not waste time” moment!

And then the dreaded news comes. While Jesus is talking to the woman, a servant tells the father of the passing of his little girl. Lucado reminds us of the sudden silence of shock that follows such news. And then the question that follows. Why did Jesus have to stop? I thought He would pull through for me! I believed!

But we need to take notice that, while Jesus was still speaking, He also heard. I love that. Although Jesus was occupied with another case and had many people pressing in on Him, He heard … He cared … and to the father, whose world had caved, He said “Don’t be afraid. Just believe.” (Mark 5:36)

The father did not have to wait long to experience the rest of the beautiful story, but in our lifetime we do not always see the end or what we think is the end. Jesus’ words to us are still the same. When we want to give up and say it’s too late, Jesus asks us to believe and not be afraid. He is still in control. Maybe this story happened so that the generations to come might see and believe.

He is able to save completely those who come to God through Him, because He always lives to intercede for them.
(Hebrews 7:25)

Nine Ways - Again

On Saturday, while my H was cleaning up the yard, I played dress up! Literally, I popped in and out of the house so he could work on his photography skills on the side. And in case you wonder, the grin was back!

Last year I bought a dress that seemed like just the right kind of dress to pack into a suitcase and take to warm weather places. I did that for the cruise.

At home I started thinking . . . maybe it could be more than just a warm weather dress . . . and so . . . for fun . . . I gave myself the challenge of finding nine ways to wear this dress, using different sweaters I have. Not sure if I would actually wear them all, but that's where personal preferences come in.

Which makes me want to ask. Which way do you like best? I'd sure like to see someone else's nine ways. Any takers?

Oh . . . and since I was dressed for the occasion, I decided to give him a hand. Nothing like putting some spice into your hubby's mundane yard chores.