Two Children

TWO CHILDREN

Two children, a brother and a sister
Born to a father who was a slave to wine
They do remember in their younger years of sorrow
How their daddy used to hurt them time after time.

But somehow they grew to be so different
Their lives turned out to be like day and night
One lives in peace up in Ohio
One was full of hate until she died.

I wondered what could make the difference in the two of them
Both had reasons to be bitter
But one was so sweet
How could one live in peace and not the other
Not long ago the answer came clear to me.

I saw the brother at his daddy’s grave
Placing flowers there his eyes were filled with tears
As he said, “Daddy once again I do forgive you,
For the way you made us suffer through the years.”

Now I can see how the two could be so different
How their hearts turned out to be like day and night
He lives in peace up in Ohio
She as bitter till the day she died
He lives in forgiveness up in Ohio
She was bitter till the day she died
A bitter heart was the reason that she died.

©1986 Dawn Trader Music,SESAC

I heard this song by Steve and Annie Chapman many years ago. Not a song that would stick with me because of it's beauty, but because of its truth. At the time I was still quite oblivious to some of the pain people live with, but over the years, I’ve been reminded of the words because I’ve seen the story portrayed in real life.

I checked out the song on line now. A YouTube video features Annie still singing this song and at the end she says something that put to rest something that I have questioned. “Maybe it was harder for her to forgive because the offense was worse for her. But this is a true story and the reason she held that grudge against her father was because of how much he hurt her brother.” And yet the brother forgave. Annie goes on to remind us of how Jesus asked the Father to forgive those who were hurting Him as He hung on the cross, reminding us that “forgiveness is a divine act that needs a divine source.”

Something to remember is that forgiveness doesn’t make the offense right, it makes me alright. It frees me from hauling around a burden that is just too heavy to bear . . . a burden that will keep me imprisoned by my own choice.
Maybe, in this season, where we have opportunities to see family and make a choice in regard to forgiveness . . . we can make a decision that will end up being the best Christmas gift of all.

What God Made

Paeton sat down at my kitchen bar to have his lunch, so I asked him it he wanted to say "thank you" to Jesus for the food. His reply, "But you made it!" led into the conversation about God making everything to begin with. I started listing things like the sun . . . and he said, "for sure God made the sun, because that's FIRE!" Oh yes . . . and as I continued with the flowers and the trees, he proudly announced, "And God made metal!"

I don't know why that one hadn't made it to the top of my list . . . but, he's right. I miss him.

Improved Work Conditions

He left the house to get light bulbs . . . toner and batteries.
He came back with everything plus a chair!

It's nicely padded. . . has adjustable heights and back support and I was happy to see that the back was low enough that you can still see who's sitting in it from behind. I don't want any surprises when it swivels around.

So, the old one goes out. I liked the "see through" look, but it didn't do anything but swivel and tilt. Which reminds me, the other day I watched as he tilted too far and . . . well he caught himself just in time! I usually just gingerly sat on the front ledge, so as to avoid getting a back ache. Still . . . kind of sad to let go of and I have to tell myself that even chairs have their season.

Mission to the Indians

In Paraguay the Mennonites organized a mission for the Indians, (translated) called, “Light to the Indians." The objectives were to:
- acquaint them with the Word of God
- provide education
- promote better health
- enable them to become self-sufficient, faithful, useful and skilled citizens

One story that I must tell is of a time when my mom-in-law was serving at this mission where, at the time, they were ministering to a tribe called the Lengua. This happened while she was in her late teens, before she was married. One day she was alone in the mission house when some Chulupi Indians came to the door. These were enemies of the Lengua and they had never shown themselves to the white people before. They wore loin cloths and held spears in their hands.

To say the least, Mom was terrified but, when she saw that they were rubbing their stomachs, she took them across the yard to the kitchen and gave them some bread and beans. Then they left. Later on she found out that the Lengua had been hiding in the bushes and not shown themselves because of their fear of the Chulupi.

To make a long story short, in later years the Chulupi also came to know the Lord and this brings me to the climax to the story! This Fall (2009) while Mom (age 92) was lying in her hospital bed, three Chulupi Indians came to her bedside and serenaded her with hymns and spiritual songs. They had been sponsored to come to Canada to serve at a local fundraiser for another Mission in Paraguay and since they had a big connection to my brother-in-law, they wanted to meet the first lady who had given their tribe bread, back in about 1935. I love this story.

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The Indians in Paraguay

In case you were asking, I'm almost finished with my history posts! An interesting part in the whole puzzle I've put together, is that my grandmother (as a 16 year old) was on the same ship going to South America as another 13 year old girl who is now my mother-in-law! They knew each other and - if you know anything about Mennonites - you know how they like to connect everyone. (You'd think they invented facebook! ) Imagine when these ladies found out (some 45 years later) 'who was dating who' . . . here in Canada. Of course, we had no idea of the history involved. It's my sentimental side that thinks about these things now.
This next entry tells about an aspect of the Chaco life gleaned mostly from my mother-in-law. I've enjoyed her stories and found some interesting humor in them.

The Indians living in the Chaco came to the colonists with hospitality and curiosity. Despite the fact that the Mennonites were “overdressed” and did strange things such as dividing up the land, they were willing to help them in any way they could. They showed them how to make grass roofs, which trees to use for lumber, how to brew an anti-malarial medication, how to treat snake bites and warned them when danger was lurking. Of course, they were rewarded with food and clothing.

The Mennonites tried to learn their language, but the Indians learned Low German faster and even began taking the names of the Mennonites for themselves, names such as Jash (Jacob), Hein (Henry) and Marie (emphasis on the latter syllable).

I have had to come to the conclusion that my mother-in-law really had a way of relating to the Indians. She told me about some of her experiences with some of their “farm help” Indians. One evening the family had left the house to go to prayer meeting when, upon their return, she found that one of the loaves of bread that she had baked that day was missing. The following day the Indian returned and sheepishly said, “Mina Stehle” (spoken as a toddler learning to speak – “my stealing”). He said that he would not do this again.

Another day one came to her and sold her a rope. He also told her that he was getting baptized that weekend. Later on she couldn’t find the rope, and she found out from another member of the Indian’s family that he had sold it to another family. On Monday morning this Indian came to her and sat down very dejectedly. Mom asked him if he got baptized, and he told her that he had stolen from her and they had not baptized him because he had to make this right first.

When they would come to her and ask for food, she gladly gave them food, but they had to do some work, like chopping wood, first. Sometimes she gave them clothing. One time she gave one of the women a bra, and wouldn’t you know it, the next thing, Mom’s kids came home howling with laughter because they had seen their Indian woman shopping at the Co-cop, wearing the bra and no blouse. The Indians loved the ties that the Mennonite men wore, and when they received one, they would proudly wear them on their bare chests.

I think about these interesting relationships - where people of such different cultures needed each other and I just have to marvel. Cross Cultural training by immersion - while we take university classes in order to attempt this today.
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At the Threshold

The home looks dismal -
Walkers and wheelchairs line the hall
And the aroma wafting from the dining room
Can hardly draw me there too soon.

I look about her little space -
A cot, a dresser, a chair an old T.V.
The only welcome sight is her smiling face
Saying she’s so very glad to see me.

We talk about the past -
These days, it’s what she remembers best
Standing on a stool washing dishes,
A trek across the ocean with hopeful wishes.

Motherhood came quick and hard -
With labor pains that stretched into the everyday,
From clearing the land, sweeping the yard
Kneading bread, while learning to pray.

I’m amazed at the strength and wisdom -
Of one for whom life became her classroom.
And yet, as she shares of the hardships and pain
At the end of it all, she’d do it again!

Finding it discomforting to see this end -
I have to ask myself - what will it be?
Will I focus on the fading beauty all around,
Or on that which I cannot see?

Aged ones, waiting at the threshold of heaven -
Stories of courage, loyalty and faith near forgotten,
But not by the One who’s been there all these years
And who will be there to wipe away all tears.

Anneliese © 2009