Monday, June 4, 2012

Memories of Papa

This week has been unique.  I came with my youngest daughter to Idaho.  She has two semesters left to obtain her degree in Elementary Education.  It just so happens that her university is 12 miles away from the tiny place where my Dad was born 92 years ago.

Papa was fond of saying that some people were born with a silver spoon in their mouth.  (It's a phrase that means they are born wealthy).  Papa continued by saying that instead he was born on a shoestring.  (This means that he was born to poverty).  Grandpa delivered Papa.  To tie the cord he used the shoestring from his razor strop.  (If you don't know what a razor strop is, that's what google is for now, right?)

Dad was the 4th child in his family.  He was born in a one room, humble cabin.  Previously the occupants of the cabin had been chickens.  They were tossed out in honor of the newest inhabitants who had scrubbed the place spotless, and then painted it.

Grandpa and Grandma didn't have much in the way of worldly possessions.  They did have infinite amounts of faith, courage, and love for each other and their children.

Eventually there were 10 children in the home, and this during the Great Depression.  Frugality, and thrift were not abstract ideas to Dad and his family.  They were the foundation of their lives.

I went to church last Sunday in the building where so much of my family events have taken place.  Babies have been blessed there for three or four generations of our family.  Receptions have been held there after marriages.  My beloved Grandpa and Grandma held their 50th wedding anniversary there.  Sadly the walls have also sheltered funerals.

It was joyous for me to have the chance to stand behind the pulpit and share my gratitude for the faith,
that lives in me which has been inspired by these dear people.  My great-grandparents who sacrificed
so much to build a good life for their family.  My grandparents who also sacrificed for their family.  My parents who did the same, and now it's my turn.

I'm so joyously grateful for my heritage of faith, unconditional love, and sacrifice.  I hope that someday my grandchildren will speak of me with the same sense of humility that I have when I speak of my ancestors.

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