Sunday, November 16, 2008

A Visit To My Past-Christi

When I was a young girl, we lived just a mile from the state line of Indiana in Bronson, Michigan. The location was perfect for children, being out in the country, down the road from a lake that we often rode our bikes to to swim after mowing the large (or maybe it just looked large as a child) yard, and a short walk across the fields to pot holes, which were a small wet woods area. We would build forts in the woods all day and revisit it day after day to make fort improvements and check up on it. Summer days were wasted away not with video games and watching TV, but with outside play, hard work on our small hobby farm, and good ole country living. We were close to our neighbors and everybody looked out for each other.

One particular lady that lived down the dirt road from us, was a widow lady in her 70's whose children all lived far away. We attended the same little country church as she did and eventually my parents developed a relationship with her that leaked into their children's lives. She was a bike ride away and enjoyed company often, especially mine and my brother's company. She would watch us while my mom and dad worked in the fields, she taught us piano, she baked cinnamon rolls with us, gave us warm milk to drink, let me have a drawer in her desk to keep my papers, stickers, and crayons to play mailman, she read scriptures to us, played boggle with us, let us play with the cats and dog, and was a great example of godly living.
I can remember her writing so much (obviously e-mail wasn't around), and sending lots of letters out. She kept in close contact with many missionary families and had a board of all the families she lifted up in prayer. Those families sure were blessed to have a prayer warrior interceding for them. She also journaled most every day. This is something that I would like to improve on. What thoughts and feelings she must have journaled during her life. What the Lord is doing, who needed prayer (I'm sure my family was on the list often), and what was going on in her life. Could my children benefit from learning when I am dead and gone, the things that the Lord are teaching and showing us in our lives? I think so. And what about the trials and struggles we face that God helps us through. How do we respond to those situations and what or better yet, who do we call on during those times? To hear older, wiser people share of life in their younger years is something that we can all learn from. Why do some think that the older generation are just a waste of space when they hold so much that we can learn from?

Another thing that we have been pondering lately is whether we are helping the orphans and widows as much as we should. My dad cut wood for Grandma Bowerman (even in her 70's she still kept a wood stove going), repaired things on her house, kept her yard clean, my mom took her to visit others in the nursing home, took her to get groceries, and took her to the laundromat to do her laundry. Life was more simpler then. She canned all her apples as applesauce, listened to Bible teachings on the scratchy radio, played her piano to pass the time, and read her Bible and prayed a lot.

Are we prepared for such simpler times? What if things go back to the way they used to be? Not able to go to town as often, having to take care of the food we grow ourselves, not having all the luxuries that electricity brings, etc.

So, I have been encouraged to journal my life happenings more on paper, take care of the elderly widows more, prepare myself for simpler times, and continue teaching my children to do with less busy entertainment and enjoy the wonders that God gave us to enjoy. And for your enjoyment, some pictures of me in those good ole days.
The top left is me with my brother and my best dog, Ginger. Bottom left is Grandma Bowerman (I was so glad to find this picture of her) with my dad and her grandson from Alaska. The picture on the right is what I spent half a summer working on.....preparing my turtle that my dad caught at the pond down the road for the Vermont Settlement Days in Orland. And I must say, my turtle was the fastest and we won! Those were the good ole days indeed! Anybody else have memories from their good ole days as a child and the simpler life? Please share!

**** Gonna see if I can get the hubby to post about his good ole days along with some pics. Stay tuned, you'll enjoy it!


Bill Sines said...

Aha! Now the comments work!

One thing I remember from the "good ole days" of my youth was the sledriding. We would go down in the woods out back to a hill we dubbed the K-12. I think there was a skiing movie out at the time with a mountain named the K-12 which was nothing more than a snow-covered cliff face. This is a good description of the hill we used to go down out back in the woods.

Anyway, we'd take our sleds down there, along with a block of wax (you know, to smooth out the scratches on the bottom of our sleds and to get less friction) and a first aid kit (not really, but we should have).

It was a three hill combination. The first was short and steep: it was kind of like the hill on a ski jump in the Olympics. It looks like you're going slow, then you hit the first jump, and you realize how fast you were really going. While in the air, you had to turn left or hit thistles and tree (and yes, there were a few "America's Funniest Video" type shots for the guys, if you know what I mean). Then you had to turn hard right to hit the final hill (remember my reference to the cliff face? this is the cliff part). If you were successful (I venture a 30-40% success rate past the thistles), you got a lot of speed, but then had to bail quick or find yourself in a creek. Seriously. This was K-12.

We also did various golf courses and of course just the back yard hill. We even got to the point where we would build jumps, lay people just past the jumps, and see how many people we could clear. It was fun.

I remember at one golf course a guy rode an old fashioned runner type sled and hit one of our jumps. When he landed the sled broke into several pieces and there was blood. It took him about 5-10 minutes to get up. No one called an ambulance.

Ah, yes, the good ole days.

Jason said...

I can barely remember what I had for breakfast, so I appreciate people who recall their past so well! Kudos, Christi.