Northwoods Journal: Changes

Hi from a friend’s house in Duluth, Minnesota. She lets me stay in “my room” when I’m too tired to drive home.

Back several weeks ago, in July, we were getting ready for our family reunion, enjoying walks like the one in my last post, and having a great summer. And then the husband had a stroke, a cerebral vascular hemorrhage (CVA). He has survived but our lives have changed, a lot.

Since then, most of what I’ve written has gone in a separate blog, one that tells the story of our experience since his diagnosis of Lewy Body Dementia. I won’t tell it again here, but in summary, we now have first hand knowledge of ICU’s, ventilators, tracheostomies, feeding tubes, and several other things that the husband never wanted to know about.

Hi, I’m the husband. My real name is Dennis and this is Occupational Therapy at Miller Dwan Rehab, the nicest place I ever wanted to get out of.

This is the first day in five weeks that I’ve been home all day. Dennis is in a rehab hospital now, a really good place, and making progress slowly. I felt he would be okay if I didn’t see him every day. The hospital is in Duluth, 90 miles away, and I’ve grown a little weary of the drive. I’m often in the car eating things I shouldn’t eat, just to stay awake – a bag of popcorn can last nearly 70 miles if I don’t spill too much of it.

Although I have wonderful support from friends and family, these changes leave me feeling physically alone quite often. Fortunately, I am spiritually befriended. God is such a friend. Jesus is such a friend. I took a walk this evening, kind of like the one in my last post, on the wetlands trail and saw evidence of my friends. It was almost like things were being pointed out, to look at, to talk about and enjoy. And I took pictures, of course.

All by itself in the middle of a nicely mowed field
Hello
She looked and then went on eating.
Sunset coming on.
Like fire in the sky.
Clouds, not mountains, in the east and in the water.

It’s September now. August was surreal, hard, and so different from anything we have known. We have yet to find out what our new normal will be. But it’s coming, and it will be okay.

Northwoods Journal: Hayward, Wisconsin

Riding around Hayward, not in a car, but on a bike – that was my joyride yesterday. It was a relatively slow ride, not a race of any kind, and I took care to be noticing everything. It was a great way to tour a small town. I’ve always loved Hayward, but I kind of “fell in love” over again. I’m pretty sure you would like Hayward too.

Many changes have taken place in our town since I was a child. Of course, one of them was the paved bike path I started on. It follows the perimeter of the business and residential districts, starting very close to my condo, and circles around to end up at the starting point again 12.5 miles later. I probably put in a few extra miles going through quiet streets, just looking at houses and yards because that’s what I like to do.

On my ride I started at what used to be my Grandfather Smith’s property, and the house where he raised his family.

Not too much later I rode past the house where my Grandfather Boone used to live, and the field where my mother and her brothers used to play.

I rode past three water towers. Except for the giant fish, I think maybe it’s our town’s mark of distinction to have three of them, although none of them are very attractive – a little rust, a little graffiti, lots of sirens and satellite dishes hanging on them.

I crossed the same river twice, and rode along it for long stretches. The Namekagon River valley is where Hayward is situated and I saw several smaller streams on their way to join the main river. Lake Hayward is the result of a dam on the Namekagon. The area grew as a logging town and for a while the lake was a collection point for logs. I rode past the water arena where lumberjacks still show their skills to the public, log rolling, climbing, chopping and sawing.

I don’t know if this entrepreneur was ever a lumberjack but I am pretty much in awe of his skill with a chainsaw. I rode past his outdoor lot where he sells some amazing log art.

Is that Jack Link’s jet? I don’t know.

Near the end of my ride I went past Hayward’s airport. You could probably charter a plane to bring you to Hayward but there are no major airlines serving this town. Many of the planes, jets and helicopters belong to people wealthy enough to fly in and out, rather than drive the nearly three hours to Minneapolis or six hours to southern Wisconsin cities.

Riding a bike is a friendly way of getting around, similar to horse and buggy days when stopping to talk with someone you knew was common. I rode past the house of some friends and saw one of their kids outside fixing his car. I thought a minute, and then turned around and went up the drive to say hi. Why not?

Last stretch of the bike path leading home.

I have decided to ride bike more often this summer. It really is a pretty good way to get around for moderate distances. I thought that it might be my next challenge (gotta have a challenge…) to ride 100 miles a month, for the next four months, until it snows again. But today it is raining and I’m already losing my enthusiasm. Haven’t learned to love riding in the rain, yet.

That’s all for today for this northwoods journal.

June Journal: Goodbye Beautiful Month

I haven’t seem much of the geese since the tall grass around the pond was mowed. This pair and their young’un saw me coming this evening and high-tailed it into the pond. Most of the families have gone further into the wetland marsh.

June 25, 26

The weekend did not bring answers to the electrical problem in the garage. I unplugged the garage door opener one night and the fault still occurred. The only conclusion I can make is that none of my appliances are causing the problem. It’s going to be up to an electrician I’m afraid.

I went back to church on Sunday and it was good to be involved in the music. I am the oldest on the worship team – never thought that would be my badge, but I’ll take it. We have an eclectic pool of people to man the different instruments and lead. Teenagers, married middle-agers, seniors, even some middle school volunteers (because they are so good running slides on the computer). It feels like a privilege to worship with them.

The husband wanted to eat out again! We had lunch at Perkins and then went next door to get a DQ hamburger for Mom. The line for ordering was 10 cars long. That place is crazy ever since Covid started.

June 27

Major accomplishment today was getting my aunt (96 years old) and uncle (91 years old) to the doctor for wellness checks. I drove the 18 miles to their house, helped them get in their car, drove back 18 miles to the clinic with them. Their appointments were easy enough, but then we also had to stop at the pharmacy and get their Covid boosters. The return trip, another half hour there and half hour back home. I have to laugh at their car. I used to be worried about all the warnings of tire pressure being low, the loud clacking of the fan, the smell of decaying mouse, and the unpredictable door locks. Not any more. We just go.

June 28

More doctor appointments but this time it is for me and the husband. We lived in Florida for 30 years and need to get our skin checked for cancers. It turned out to be a little unnerving for me since she found six suspicious places on my face and used her “freeze” gun on them. It hurt but I can’t see that it did much to them. In addition she looked at my hands and decided to do x-rays and blood work to see if I had rheumatoid arthritis. I wasn’t expecting that.

I went home and spent the evening pulling weeds in Mom’s borders around her condo. There’s nothing like doing a job that really needs doing to calm me down. The border improved, one small weed at a time – and me, marveling that there were no mosquitoes, amused by the bullfrog sounding from the retention pond out back. So ended the day.

June 29

Fighting a headache all day. I read to the husband in the morning and we finished a book. Reading is not the best for headaches though.

Before it was filled in with dirt, this silo foundation was home to a large pig!

We have an historic silo foundation behind the barn. It has had various plantings in it and is also a graveyard for Scruffy, my brother’s dog who left us a couple years back. At times it’s been featured in family photos, and since we have a reunion coming up, I wanted to get it weeded and respectable looking. Once again, pulling weeds is therapy, this time for my headache. I feel such power, deciding which things stay and which things go. I might have made a good dictator.

RIP Scruffy.

I took the husband out for a wheelchair ride on our street after dinner. I’m glad that he is able to get outside, if only for a few minutes, but there is something about doing this that saddens me. It makes such a statement.

June 30

The last day of June, sob! A third of our summer is over.

The headache is still hanging around, so much so that I wondered if I was getting second Covid, long Covid, or whatever it is called when it comes back. But I had no fever and felt better after medication.

Spent some time with my client at New Life. She is a delightful young mom who likes to sit and talk, which I find very refreshing.

The only other redeeming thing I did today was clean up my closet a bit. Decided it might be safe to box up my winter socks – a fitting way to say goodbye to June.

The flowers change with the months. Daisies are still in style but the late summer blooms are starting already.

June Journal: Appointments Driving Me Crazy

Appointments, yes. But what is really driving me crazy is the GFS outlet in the garage that keeps tripping and shutting off power to all the outlets where my second refrigerator, and my freezer are plugged in. Every day a new tactic, trying to isolate the problem…

June 19

We are not having our usual company after church today. We are not going to church. The husband keeps asking if we are doing our normal things and I have to remind him that we are staying home because I have had Covid. I did go out and watch the geese. They are getting big.

The adults are always watching – good parents.

June 20

Today was over 90 degrees and windy. I could easily have imagined I was back in Florida. I passed up helping the Boys and Girls Club with their canoe trip. The cold water would probably have felt good but the heat made me feel sick, even being inside. It’s probably too soon for me to be doing something that strenuous. Glad to stay home.

Except for the chiropractor appointment that the husband thinks he needs. Once again, I had him go in by himself while I sat in the car and watched their hanging baskets twirl and wilt in the heat and wind. They came out to check on timing for another appointment and I said it was okay, but don’t have my calendar with me to be sure.

June 21

Mom, brother Dennis and I are back on our morning meetings, discussing the day ahead and doing some reading. I had two appointments. The first was with our financial advisor, a quarterly update. He’s had Covid too so we were in about the same shape and not too worried about catching it anymore. To be proper we met outside on the patio. It was hot but not quite as bad as yesterday.

The second appointment was to look at a camper that some friends of friends were willing to rent us for the reunion. I drove out to the Schrock’s and met Erik and Julia. Their camper is nice and I think it will make a good abode for my brother Ron and his wife. Once again, I’m aware of my passion for other people’s campers, and how I will probably not ever have one of my own. Whatever…

June 22

Cooler today. An exciting morning in the garden, hand weeding the beets. Some of them are growing good and some are not and I’m not sure what the difference is. But it was nice to be outside and breathe fresh, cool air. Some neighbors came over to say hi.

After spending several hours wishing I didn’t have to go anywhere – I found out I actually didn’t have to go anywhere. The program manager at the Resource Center met with my client in the morning, assuming I was still isolating with Covid.

June 23

I hate it when I have mistakenly made appointments too close together – usually because I don’t have my calendar with me. Wondering how to have the husband at the chiropractor at 12:15 and still make it to my haircut appointment at 12:45. But, guess what? The salon called and said I had two appointments for the same day and one was at 9:45! Once in a while my appointment mix ups actually go in my favor. I took the early one and cancelled the other.

I had time to brave Walmart to pick up prescriptions for the husband and get some groceries. He had been wanting some slippers without a back that he could put his foot into easily, and I found some in his usual size. But no, they felt too small, so later I walked back to Walmart for the next larger size. Again, no. They felt like “shackles” and necessitate lifting one’s feet up with each step. I am done with the slipper game.

Like “shackles”, I’m told.

Welcome distraction – a Zoom call with my daughter in Seattle and her husband. We are working on a newsletter for the family reunion in August.

June 24

Why are my strawberries small and orange? They taste great, even when they don’t look ripe, which most of them don’t. Just in case they aren’t getting enough water, I put the irrigation on them for a good spell.

Highlight of the day – I got invited to go out for fish fry this evening at a restaurant! The husband decided to go too. I was worried about that, but he did okay in spite of being too hot (we sat outside) and not wanting to eat fish.

This week has left me wondering about my mental health. I can’t seem to apply myself to anything. Waiting for some kind of change, I guess.

At least the freezer and the extra fridg are now plugged in where they won’t be shut off every night when the GFS faults

He Owed God a Baptism

There was a farmstead that I visited frequently when I was young. The farm was on Round Lake so the owners also had a resort, Meier’s Log Cabins. They had a daughter around my age and in summer, I was often at their home swimming in the lake, playing with their daughter, Barb, and often was invited to eat supper. In the winter we rode the same bus back and forth to school. Barb’s mom was a great cook, and had a large garden. They had a fish tank with guppies – funny the things that impress children… The father, Phil, was a skilled carpenter (as well as a farmer and resort owner!) He had built their house and it was full of features that were a bit special, like a real upstairs bathroom. I can’t tell you all the good memories associated with that family and that beautiful place.

But like many resorts on the lake, the cabins were sold off to private owners and so was the Meier farmhouse. I lost track of Barb when she went off to college a year before me. I think I might have seen or heard of her once since 1968. But I have often wondered about the house and what changes it might have undergone. I have wondered if I would ever see Barb again.

Oddly enough, I have another friend who now owns and lives in the Meier house. I see her at church quite often and our families have history, since our parents were friends and she and her husband know my brothers quite well. Just yesterday, my brother Bob suggested we go out to visit these friends. He had asked them if they would show me the house, for old time’s sake. We went.

There was a lot going on. They were preparing their RV for a two week trip west, and in addition they were preparing food for a special event. Jan and her sister were in the kitchen cutting up fruit and vegetables, food was everywhere. After giving me a tour of the house and sitting me down with some coffee, she explained that she and her sister were getting baptized, in the lake, the next day. She was excited and told me how it had come about.

Her sister had been wanting to be baptized and she knew Jan wanted to also. Could they do it together? That would be possible if they did it in Hayward before their upcoming trip. Although they didn’t need extra things to do before their trip, everything after that decision came together quickly. Jan had a minister friend who agreed to come, they invited their guests, and the ideas for “spiritual food” to serve after the baptism buzzed in her mind so adamantly that she KNEW how right it would all be. It had the feel of God’s blessing all over it.

Then she told a story about a phone conversation with her niece, Rachel. Rachel had been at a campground and had gone to an inspiring worship service with a Messianic Jewish rabbi. “Don’t be focusing on the bad, and the confusion in our world today” he had said. “We have reasons to celebrate!” He then told them about Rosh Hashana, the Feast of Trumpets, and about how everyone should have a shofar (ram’s horn that makes an awesome loud noise) to sound in the new year and days of celebration and hope. And the day chosen for their baptism was, of all things, the day that Rosh Hashana would start at sundown. How awesome was that?!

“Well,” she said to me, “I didn’t even know what a shofar was. Do you?”

“Yes, I have one at home. We actually observe the Feast of Trumpets for its Christian meaning and message.”

“No way!”

“Yes, would you like me to bring it to you?”

And that’s how it happened that we were invited to the baptism, along with 22 other friends and family. I packed up my shofar, got Mom in the car and we went out to the farmstead this afternoon. On the way we puzzled over how we might find my childhood friend Barb. Mom suggested Facebook but neither of us knew her married name, and checking out all the Barbs was not an option.

We arrived at Jan’s house and parked. Jan was in the driveway talking and came over right away. She had another story.

She and her sister had been walking out to the road to put up a “Baptism”sign up so people could find her place. They met a man on his way to the woods where he and his son had been cutting trees to use in their maple syrup business. The son had cut one more tree than planned and this man had decided to go out and get it. They lived in the Minneapolis area and were in Hayward for the weekend. They owned one of the cabins from the resort, and the woods nearby.

He saw Jan’s sign and asked what was going on. When he found out what they were planning, he said he had been wanting to be baptized too. They invited him to join them, not expecting that he really would.

But he did. He came with his married children, grandchildren, and his wife who, it turned out, was Barb Meier, my childhood buddy. I’m sure God had fun putting this little celebration together.

It was a beautiful time. Three precious people told what it meant to them to have come to this decision. The man, Don, said he had been baptized as an infant but as an adult, he had come to feel he “owed God a baptism”. They all demonstrated their love and commitment to their Savior and God and came up from the water smiling. And I got to blow the shofar, not an easy thing to do. Surprisingly, I did it quite well and counted it as just one more miracle in a long string of miraculous happenings.

Ceremonial words
Water baptism
A biblical feast – figs, honey, dried fish, olives, bread

This is just one of the ways that God demonstrates his reality to me. He does, crazy, awesome stuff and chooses to include me in his plans. He wants me to see him that way and be a part of what he does. In this I am not unique. I think he wants everyone to know him that way. Look for it, just sayin’…

A to Z Challenge: Zeal of the Pioneers

Zeal, “great energy or enthusiasm in pursuit of a cause or objective”.

Alzina, or Alzie as we have come to know her, was passionate about her faith and her family. But she had zeal toward another objective as well, one that took up a great deal of time later in her life after she retired from teaching. The cause was prohibition of alcohol. She learned from a young age to work for the cause and although “Prohibition” never became a federal law, it was adopted in some states, Kansas being one of them. It happened largely through the efforts of hard working pioneer women. Here is how it went for Alzie.

The Peach Crop Story

By Emma Pomeroy Brandt, Alzie’s younger sister.

A few years after the Civil War, in 1867, my father took a homestead in Kansas. On it he planted both shade and fruit trees, including a peach orchard. He could not go to a store and buy everything as we do now. Indeed he and Mother saw very hard times trying to get a home started and raise food for a growing family. They had gotten deeply in debt and placed a mortgage on the homestead.

One year when most crops were burning up, they had a bountiful crop of peaches, but no market to sell them. One day two well-dressed men came driving in behind a fine team of livery horses and offered Father one dollar a bushel for the whole crop.

That seemed a wonderful offer and Father started to tell them he would bring the first load the next day. He said he would pick them carefully so as not to bruise them. “Oh”, they said, “you need not be too careful. Just shake them off and scrape them up. If you get a few rotten ones, it won’t make any difference.” Then Father asked, “What are you going to do with them, that you will take rotten ones?” They answered, “We are going to make peach brandy.”

That was a big shock to Father. He thought of his debt and his family needs, and then “me, a Christian man, sell my peaches to make brandy???” They told him he would be a fool to turn down their offer when he could not sell them elsewhere. But he said, “I am raising children. They shall never be tempted to drink brandy made from MY peaches.”

So the deal was called off. He struggled on for years, and had to sell his farm to pay the mortgage, but he kept a clear conscience. He moved his family across the road onto the “timber claim” and made there the home where we five younger children were born, and which was named “Prairie Home”. I can’t remember that we ever had to go hungry for lack of food.

Later, around 1907, Alzie’s mother Philena wrote to Alzie describing her “mother’s club” which she had started for local women. These women were wives of men who were working on the railroad. The husband’s wages were often spent in the bars, leaving the women to find a way to support the family. Seeing situations like this as she was growing up, and attending local Temperance Meetings with her family, made Alzie a staunch supporter of the temperance movement. Partially retired from teaching she took work as a field secretary for the National Prohibition Party. She traveled around the United States securing pledges and support for her Party’s candidates for general elections. There were many disappointments in her work, but her zeal was undaunted, as this paragraph in a letter explains.

“I gave much time in 1941 and 1942 to work for an initiative amendment, but failed to get enough signatures in time. But I learned many lessons, and more than ever came to the feeling that the Prohibition Party is the only force that God can use to overthrow the liquor traffic. It is the “Joshua and Caleb” of the dry movement. But, as the majority kept the people of Israel out of the Promised Land forty years, so the “old party drys” may keep from having prohibition that long, too. But the Prohibition Party will be victorious in the end as Joshua and Caleb were.”

There was no lasting success, although Kansas was a state that wrote a prohibition amendment in its constitution, and upheld it longer than any other state. Follow this link to read about some amazing women activists of the Temperance movement. Kansas and Prohibition

My grandfather John, sister Esther (seated), mother Alzina and sister Ethel. There were many more stories of their pioneer life but there are only 30 days in April. #April A to Z Blogging Challenge. Thank you for reading.

A to Z Challenge: Yearnings

Alzina Boone, widowed at a young age and with a family of four children to support, finds herself struggling to be a teacher at school, and a mother at home. In the early days of Kansas settlement, life was not easy for anyone, much less a single parent. Her faith in a caring God, and sheer necessity kept her going when others might have given up. She was my great grandmother and these are her true stories.

“Life was full of interest to all of us, and when I heard the words in song, “earth has no charms for me” I realized that I might easily forget eternal things, if I didn’t earnestly purpose in my heart to “set my affections on things above”. The song “Nearer, My God to Thee” which has words “even though it be a cross that raises me” became my earnest prayer, as I thought of how fleeting are earth’s joys and how liable to change. A sense of impending danger and sorrow haunted me for some weeks after school closed. But my spirit rose above all dread and fear when I read the words in Psalm 145:18,19 one morning, about June 15th, in morning worship. “The Lord is nigh unto all them that call upon him. He will fulfill the desire of them that fear Him.” This assured me that God was nearer to me than any danger, and I felt safe and light heartedly happy in His keeping. This presence bore me up even when the blow fell.

On June 28 Stanley was drowned while swimming in a creek a mile from home after 6 o’clock.

He had told us at noon that he wanted to go swimming after office hours and would be home an hour late. He was always careful to tell me where and when he was going and to return on time to give me no anxiety. So when he didn’t return before sundown, I knew something detained him. I got neighbors to go with John to find him. They brought his lifeless body home about 9 o’clock that night. While they were searching, some Christian women workers from the Faith Home came to comfort and help me and the girls. I went to my room to pray alone. I found myself praying more for Stanley’s spiritual safety than for physical safety and the words of scripture “It is well with the child.” came to me forcibly from the presence that seemed so near me. I was sustained and comforted even in the loss and grief I felt when they came with his body and called me to the door, saying “We found him. He is dead.”

A doctor had been called to join the search. He said the water was too cold and had given cramps to Stanley, making him helpless in the water. Had anyone been with him, they would probably have drowned with him. But how I wished I had not consented to him going swimming that night. But as I prayed, many comforting memories and messages were given me. Stanley had assured me that he wasn’t afraid of lightening as we watached a storm approaching on Wednesday night on our way home from prayer meeting. He said, “I know I’m ready now.” How it comforts the Christian loved ones when the departed dear ones leave the testimony that they are “ready”.

I longed for a visit from Stanley as I had been given in dreams of Milford Sylvester, but I did not pray for such a blessing, for so much had already been given me in proof of God’s care for Stanley. But God did give me such a dream, even if I didn’t ask for it. I dreamed I was late to prayer meeting and all were kneeling in prayer, many near the door. When we rose from prayer, a song was started and I sang too. I noticed a surprised look from the leaders toward my part of the room. So I looked around to see what was surprising and there stood Stanley, book in hand, singing too. When the meeting was dismissed, Stanley passed out with the crowd. I remembered I wanted to hear Stanley talk, so I hurried out and overtook him. I asked, “How do you like your new home, Stanley?”

He replied in his own dear voice, “Well Mamma, you know I never liked to move to a new place, but always after I got moved I liked the new place and wanted to fence it off and stay there forever. Well, it is just the same now in heaven, only always before there was something I lacked and longed for. Now that something I always lacked and longed for is in me and all around me.” And as he said this, I felt that he was filled with a bliss that I could not express. I believe God gave me the dream. “

A to Z Challenge: Xanguish

A family with 9 children survives life on the Kansas prairie in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The experiences they have illustrate the joys, sorrows, hardships and everyday life of the Midwest pioneers. This faith filled series of stories is true. The eldest child was my great grandmother Alzina Pomeroy Boone.

There are not enough words beginning with x, so I will take the liberty of making one up. The word is “xanguish”. It stands for extreme anguish, and I have to say that this story broke my motherly heart.

Stanley, in the back row, second from the right. Probably a graduation picture from 8th grade.

This said it all. I can only imagine the grief.

A to Z Challenge: Wildwood School

Alzina Boone, widowed at a young age and with a family of four children to support, finds herself struggling to be a teacher at school, and a mother at home. In the early days of Kansas settlement, life was not easy for anyone, much less a single parent. Her faith in a caring God, and sheer necessity kept her going when others might have given up. She was my great grandmother and these are her true stories.

1906

Another move. Alzie, still searching for a school for that term, was convinced to uproot the household and go to Iowa. The promised job there in Trenton, was not at all to her liking and they agreed to pay her way to Tabor, a nearby town, where she had friends. Stanley stayed in Eskridge, supporting the family with his newspaper job until he was sent for.

“We went, “not knowing whither we went” or what welcome awaited us. Another adventure of faith. But I was borne above any fear by a supernatural assurance that God had a place for us there, and I reasoned that each of us could earn at least our board somewhere.

We arrived at Tabor on a cold, snowy day when snow was about two feet deep. We found paths made to the Faith Home and were given a Christian welcome there. Friends we had known in Eskridge who now lived across a ten acre pasture from the Faith Home offered to rent to us two rooms, one upstairs and one downstairs.

Folks told me that the Wildwood School, three miles west of the Faith Home wanted a teacher, and Elder Weaver recommended me to them. They came into town to meet me and gave me their contract for the school, which was to begin the next Monday, at $35 a month for three months. A horse and buggy was loaned to me by a friend of the Faith Home. The Training Home offered to give Stanley a job in the printing office, no salary, but board and lodging, so I sent word for him to come, using his money for fare. I promised to give him money later to buy a camera which he had long wanted. Both of my boys disliked to leave one place for another.

That three month term of school was pleasant and I was engaged for the next year, eight months at the same salary. During the summer vacation I found work easily in the homes of Tabor and so did the girls. John got steady work on farms near town, and Stanley got work in the Tabor Beacon newspaper office at $5 per week. My mother wrote to me “you are eating your white bread now”. It was marvelous to all of us the way God had opened for us and prospered us. “They that trust in the Lord shall not be confounded.”

Along in July 1906 we rented a seven room house from the same man who loaned us the horse and buggy. That was a happy year. Fruit was plentiful and we secured enough to can more than 100 quarts, beside a lot of glasses of jelly, We gathered apples on shares, and had ten or twelve bushels of apples stored in the cellar – Jonathan, Winesap, and Grimes Golden. We had potatoes and pumpkin and vegetables also stored, enough for more than a year.

Ethel had become quite proficient in cooking and ventured on many a new recipe to our great delight in eating. Both girls were neat housekeepers and very careful with their clothes. They earned most of the money they used for clothes. Esther’s joy was almost unbounded when she could dress with “everything new that she wore” one Sunday. They did much of their own sewing too.

John kept the yard and garden clean and neat, and took care of the horse and chickens. He also kept the wood box filled. All this besides working by the day for neighbors on vacation, or in occasional jobs.

Stanley used his out-of-office hours either in camera work, or studying telegraphy or engineering, or in some kind of athletics. He was growing so tall and yet was so thin that he was ashamed of it, and exercised a great deal to develop more muscle. He had established a five mile run that he made two or three times a week in good weather. He was ambitious to become able to support the family without my having to teach school or work out so much. He liked telegraphy and corresponded with some schools about taking a course. “

A to Z Challenge: Very Tough Times

Alzina Boone, widowed at a young age and with a family of four children to support, finds herself struggling to be a teacher at school, and a mother at home. In the early days of Kansas settlement, life was not easy for anyone, much less a single parent. Her faith in a caring God, and sheer necessity kept her going when others might have given up. She was my great grandmother and these are her true stories.

1904 – 1905

Alzina moved the family 45 miles away to Eskridge for this fall term. Her brother-in-law, Ora, was trustee on the board of Eskridge Bible School and she contracted to teach there in return for $15 a month and room and board for herself and the four children. She was not always paid when it was due and things got tough.

“The trustees failed to pay me the $15 agreed upon, and the matron of Faith Home objected to my discipline of her twelve year old daughter and tried to get the trustees to dismiss me. Two trustees stood for me, so the matron and her daughter left about the middle of the year. I had become inspired with the vision that more than half of the supporters of the Eskridge Bible School had for the future of the school, and I decided I would stay with the work as long as I had evidence of God’s approval and of these good people. I had the work of the Faith Home to take care of after the matron left. There were four children beside my four, all near the same age as mine. In addition to this was my work as teacher of four grades.

Alzina (far right) and a group of her students.

There were times when we didn’t know where we would get anything for the next meal. It was truly an adventure of faith for me, but I had felt that God wanted me there, and would see me through. So I didn’t complain to my parents, or to Ora, my brother-in-law, though he was a trustee, but was having his own tests and persecutions and adventures of faith, of which we may write later.

The trustees sent a basket of bread to us each Tuesday, and my cow gave two gallons or more of milk each day, and pasture was provided by friends. The closest test was one day when, at noon, we had eaten the last boat of bread or any kind of food in the house. I told the children about it and said that we would meet in the dining room right after school to pray as did the orphans in the London Orphan’s Home, of which much had been read and told in the Faith Home Circle.

At 4 o’ clock, after all pupils had gone home, I put away my papers and closed my desk to go home. As I passed through the door from my room to the hallway, Mrs. Cody, who had seemed to join in opposing me, was coming down the steps, and she handed me a 25 cent piece, saying “The Lord told me to give this to you.” So I was happy to tell the children to thank the Lord for answering before we even called.

I bought a sack of cornmeal and we had mush and milk for the evening and the morning meal. And the basket of bread came before noon next day. I cannot say that God would have one teacher bear such a load of responsibility and faith with so little cooperation, but I am glad for this experience which proved that God honors those who dare to sacrifice for his cause, and trust his promises.

In the spring when school was out, we rented a four room cottage in the northeast part of Eskridge at four dollars a month, where we lived six months or more.

As Stanley had learned to set type in the office of “The Old Paths”, founded by Ora as organ of the Eskridge Bible School, he applied and secured a job at the Eskridge newspaper office at $5 a week, ten hours a day for six days a week. While Stanley had a job, it seemed best that we should stay at this place until something else opened. Thus the three other children could be kept in the Bible School. I was not invited to teach there.

John raised some garden and chickens, and took good care of the cow, and by little jobs here and there, he usually had some money in his pockets. It seemed almost magical and we laughed gaily about his always finding money to his surprise in his pockets.”