Just a Half Mile West of the Farm

When our sons were young, we would drive to the farm in North Dakota and spend a couple of weeks living the fabulous farm life each summer. My parents would put us up and we'd enjoy outdoor fun, tractor rides, combine rides, golf cart driving, go cart driving, picnics, family, cousins, reunions, and church. We puddle stomped on rainy days, we rode rafts on the coulee, we made forts in the trees, we walked fields, we packed lunches to take on hikes through the "time tunnel" and tall grass to magical places while our imaginations ran wild. I was inexorably compelled to make the trip each year and we made terrific memories.

My memories started early as a little girl growing up on that farm. My respect for my Dad, Uncle, Grandpas, Brother and other farmers steered me into agriculture as a career. My fascination with the beauty, productivity, and miracle of seeds developing into harvestable crops remains. The chemistry of the soils, the joy of the seasons, the dependence on the weather, the demands of technology, the teamwork, and the intuitive "art of farming" still hold me captive. 

For 25 years, while our family grew, I reserved two weeks in the fall to help with sugar beet harvest on the farm. I'd drive my truck from midnight to noon loading and unloading as many times as I could as a part of the harvest crew. It was invigorating! It was scary, fun, difficult, challenging and magical. Being on the harvest team filled me and thrilled me, and my Mom, who loved the farm even more than me, noticed.

When I'd get off my 12 hour shift at noon, Mom and I would review the progress of the crew and scout the next field that would be harvested paying special attention to the crossings where the large trucks would enter and exit. This was important as I'd be coming back to work in the dark, and loaded trucks on narrow crossings had to be managed with care. Seeing the approaches to the fields in the daylight would help me navigate my loaded semi on those crossings at night. Then Mom and I would drive on and share our stories of our truck driving and farm experiences and we'd grow even closer. One day as we came back to the farm she pointed at the beautiful cottonwood trees just a half mile west of the farm and remarked how appropriate it was that I loved the farm so much. Then her face softened even more, she smiled, almost shyly, and gently shared the following story.

When my parents were 25 years old, they had three little children (Laurie - 4 1/2, Rob - 3, and Pam 2 months) and lived on the Green Farm. They earned the right to live there as the oldest children of George and Johanna Green. They managed the farm along with Dad's sister Carol and her husband Ralph Tucker. They were young, fun and extremely busy. On a pretty evening in late May of 1957, they arranged for a baby sitter and went on their first "date" since bringing their newest baby home. The date plan was actually just a "crop tour" into St. Thomas, ND (6.5 miles away) by way of the fields they were farming, a visit with friends at the American Legion Club, a few adult beverages, and a quiet drive home. They knew that once they got home they'd need to take the baby sitter home, deal with any little ones who might still be up, clean, organize and plan for the next day. They were a little reluctant to hurry right home. The evening was delightful, warm and starry, and one of them had a twinkle in his eye. 

Mom says they stopped the car and threw a blanket onto the soft green grass under the cottonwood trees that rustled in the light evening breeze. They were just a half mile west of the farm. She said they felt like irresponsible kids, smugly delighted with their growing family, the beautiful crops, and the love they shared. She knew she couldn't get pregnant because she was still nursing her 2 month old baby Pamela. But she was wrong.

Nine months later my parents welcomed their fourth child. My sister Pam and I are Irish Twins (no offense intended to the Irish!) and proud of it. All of us kids know we were conceived in love and I appreciate (and am quite amazed) that Mom shared this story with me. 

Someday, I hope someone will toss some of my ashes out... just a half mile west of the farm. 

 

Belief

When I was in elementary school, I was a big fan of anything gymnastics. I learned to do cartwheels, back walkovers, and handstands at home with the help of my sister and Hollywood Palace, a tv talent show that featured a wide variety of performers. We would watch the show and try to imitate the gymnastics skills of the performers. We'd also sing our hearts out to be like the singers, but the gymnasts motivated me.

On one of the shows I saw a woman do a cartwheel without using her hands. I called it a "no-hand cartwheel" and would later learn that gymnasts called it an aerial. After seeing this gymnastics move performed on tv, I was determined to learn to do it. I began practicing in earnest. 

My technique was to do a cartwheel and use my hands less and less each time. I'd speed up my efforts and touch and release my hands. I'd do cartwheels over and over using my hands less and less. I'd push off harder from my supporting leg and fling my legs over my head to touch down again with out the use of my hands, if possible. I was marginally successful but believed I was making progress. I worked and worked without any coaching or a clue as to how to make it happen. 

I did all my gymnastics training in the living room and adjoining dining room of the old farm house in the evenings where I grew up. My Mom was usually in the kitchen and my Dad was often in the living room either reading the paper or watching the tv at the end of the day. He tolerated me flying by with these cartwheels landing right in front of his chair for days on end because winter in North Dakota on a farm doesn't offer a lot of options. 

On one night in the winter in my 10th year, with Dad sitting in his chair, I did it! I did the "no-hand cartwheel" without my hands! My dad looked up just in time to see it happen and gave me a big smile as I beamed with my success. I had done it! I would do it again. 

I was sweaty and tired, I had used the short carpeted runway in the living room over and over again and I had done an aerial and my Dad had witnessed it. Then Dad sent me to bed. Not sure if he was tired of watching the Tasmanian devil spin past him all night or not, but he said, "Well done, now its time for bed." 

Naturally, I fussed and whined, but I went to bed fully tired and fully pleased. 

The next day and many following days I worked at my "no-hand cartwheel." I had marginal success, but it seemed when Dad was in the room I had more success. His presence, even when he wasn't paying attention, made me try harder. I believed more in myself when he was watching and I had greater success when he was in the room. So, I began to believe that I could do the aerial if he was watching. He continued to give me positive feedback when I'd accomplish the objective. It happened more often, in fact almost always, when he was in the room. 

When my Aunt Lorraine (Mom's sister) was visiting, my Mom mentioned that I was wearing out the carpet with my attempts at a "no-hand cartwheel" and had finally learned to do it. My Aunt said, "Let's see her do it!" They called me in from playing with my cousins and asked me to show this skill. I was hopeful but lacked confidence that I'd actually be able to demonstrate this new feat. I made a couple of attempts without success. Then I got a break. 

Dad was working at the farm shop that day and at that moment he came in the back door. I was struggling to perform the aerial and said, "If Dad watches, I can do it." He smiled at me and instantly gave me confidence. The others in attendance (my cousins had come inside to see this aerial cartwheel too) were not as convinced as I had failed in a number of attempts. But as soon as I saw my Dad I knew with him watching, it would be easy for me. 

I lined up at the far end of the dining room and looked at my Dad. He gave me the look that I knew meant I was his little girl and nothing was impossible. I took the four quick steps, pushed off with my supporting right leg and made it happen! My Aunt Lorraine and cousins cheered. It was a success. Dad smiled at me, grabbed a cookie, some coffee and went back to work at the shop. 

It happened a few other times where I wanted to perform this aerial. If I had trouble, even when I was just practicing, I'd ask Dad to come watch, and I'd do it to perfection. His presence was all I needed. His presence was the manifestation of my confidence. He believed in me more than I believed in myself. He never took credit for my success, he just believed in me. I borrowed his belief and knew that his confidence in me made anything possible. 

Did I make her proud?

I could tell when she wasn't happy, I could tell when she didn't like my decisions.  I could tell when she was disappointed, but over all, did I make her proud?

When Tom and I announced our engagement, I think we shocked her a bit.  She suddenly saw what I didn't even know enough to see.  She knew that a military husband would take me away, away from everything I knew and her.  I was too in love to see that.  She saw that clearly, and in hindsight, I saw the realization in her eyes.

But she loved me and wanted me to be happy, follow my dreams and follow my love. After all, she did.  She followed her military man to Fort Knox, Kentucky during the Korean war and I know she was the sweetest little military wife in the world.  She washed and ironed his shirts to perfection, learned the ways of the Army and gave birth to my brother in a military hospital without any "help" for the pain of childbirth.  She joined her neighbors for social fun, cared for her baby girl Laurie and supported Dad.

As a military wife I didn't iron shirts.  We had a baby in a military hospital and I did it without medication, just like Mom.  We did the whole socializing bit and she loved to hear about our adventures.  I love to tell her about my military volunteer efforts and I think that made her proud. We shared the military wife gig.  She was a military wife. She was my Mom. She was. She was. I am so proud and I love because she loved me and taught me to love.
She loved with the joy of the Lord.

She loved without apology. 
She loved with the knowledge of salvation.
We shared a faith born of Love. 

 The Valentine

The dust motes floated in the sunlight that streamed in the east windows of the old farmhouse on that sunny, bitterly cold February morning. I stood on the large furnace floor grate and absorbed the warmth of the heat rising up all around me. Staring through the heat waves made everything beyond appear wavy and distorted. The grate appeared to be moving under my feet and completely captured my attention. It was a fascinating optical illusion and the warmth felt so good.  

I had just gotten dressed and eaten hot buttered toast before assuming my place on the furnace grate. It was the prime location where we kids all stood, warmed up, and waited for each other in the cold winter months.  The rising heat would fill my pant legs and force its way up my sleeves completely removing the winter chill. My feet would get so warm I'd have to step off the furnace to keep them from burning in my winter boots.  I was thoroughly warm, in fact toasty. Mom had gotten me ready for Sunday School first as I was the youngest at 6 years old. Next she would go upstairs and encourage the older kids to get out of their pajamas, get dressed, grab a bite to eat, don their coats, mittens and hats, hop in the car and off we'd go to Sunday School with Dad behind the wheel. 

But before she started up the stairs, Mom paused from her busy morning and handed me a precious little red plastic heart with conversation valentine candy inside. She was clearly occupied with tasks running through her brain but she hugged me quick and said, "This is for you. Happy Valentine's Day!" 

At first I didn't know what my Mom had given me, but through the clear plastic lid I could see colorful candies with words on them. As excited as I was at the thought of eating those sweet candies, I was more excited with the moment, the gift, and knowing it was mine. Although I knew about paper Valentines cards, I was unused to Valentine's Day gifts and was filled with gratitude and probably greed as I recognized that those candies were just for me. I'm confident Mom had a little heart with candy for each of her four kids, but in that moment, nothing existed except me, Mom and the little plastic heart loaded with sweetness. 

I can't recall if I ate a candy before Sunday School or not. In fact, I don't remember anything else about that day except how special I felt in that one moment. Mom gave me a sweet little heart that day, and since the first time my heart recognized the beat of hers, she has loved me. I'll always have that joy. 

Thanks Mom. Happy Valentine's Day.

Service and Sacrifice

In honor of my Mom and Dad on the 4th of July, I'm posting her recollections that include a recap of Dad's time serving in the US Army and more. Thanks for your service to our country, Dad and thanks for standing by him, Mom.

From my Mother's Journal.

November 4, 2011

59 years ago today (11/4/52) my husband had to leave for the army. We had been married for 6 months and were working on the farm with his mother and father. When we got the letter that he was selected we did nothing to stop the process as his uncle Floyd Green was on the committee for the war department at Cavalier and it would not look too good if we used him for an excuse. I started crying as soon as the letter came and kept right on crying ‘til he left. Grandpa George cried with me. That first night I put his work boots by my bed and grabbed one of his shirts and wore it to bed and started a letter than night. I’d write a page a night telling him all the days events. He went to Kentucky and did well as a soldier. We thought he would be coming home for Christmas, but it didn’t happen. So we wrote to each other every day and I’d be standing at the mailbox waiting for the mailman. (His name was Lowell Livingood.) Whenever there was a letter he would blink his car lights a few times and I’d jump up and down and wait. He wrote of all the stuff he was learning and doing, a lot of walking. He had a chance to go to OCS (Officers Candidate School) but some how it didn’t happen and he felt lucky after hearing about all the guys who did make it and went to the front lines in Korea. He was responsible for a lot of guys going through basic training. And then they found out he was good at typing he got the job of Ammunitions Records Clerk in an office with a nice group of men. By the time spring came around we had a little girl and she and I joined him in Kentucky. Laurie became her Daddy’s greatest follower. She would get so excited when he got home at night, and she would say, “There he is!” But it didn’t not sound like that. She would even salute him.

Every day we thought it would be our last day together as men were leaving for Korea daily. Then it was quite obvious that I was pregnant again so soon and we had a May 13^th baby boy. It was that doggone furlough in August of 1953 to combine wheat that I got pregnant again. Oh well, we love kids.

We met a lot of nice people and we seemed very happy. November 4^th, 1954, we came home to the farm. Grandpa and Gran’ma Green went to California for the winter and we took over the farm house along with El Prigge, the hired man that had been here for many years, a very nice fellow. Both he and Manvel worked at the potato plant in St. Thomas washing out spuds or tying sacks. The deep freeze was stocked full of beef and pork and we had lots of potatoes. El would help with the dishes after supper and Manvel played with Laurie and our new baby boy, Robert. We had a fun winter. We had a few people over for meals, played cards, and cribbage.

When spring came Grandpa and Grandma came home and then rented a house in Grafton before buying a home on 7^th street west (451 West 7^th Street) where they lived many years. We were not through having children. We had Pam in March of ’57 and Karen in Feb ’58. We were always lucky to have good help with the washing, ironing, vacuuming and I cuddled my babies, washed, fed and sang to them. I just loved my job of being a mother. Manvel was very helpful with dressing them for bed after baths and reading stories and a good Daddy!

The growing up years went fast. We seemed to be going to someone’s game and school programs (we enjoyed these little people very much) and loved all the activities. We were very pleased with their interests in Christian activities. Rob had perfect attendance in Sunday School. Now when I was growing up at the Lutheran Church, when you had perfect attendance for a year you got a gold tiny cross pin. But, Robert got his whole record of gold stars. He never was ill, but the girls sometimes missed because of illness. I was so proud of Rob being head of Sunday School and working so hard with young Christians. The girls did a lot of singing for church and school. Laurie and her friends had a little group that played guitars and sang called The Farmer’s Daughters. Rob enjoyed playing basketball and the last year of high school he played football. He was always needed at home after school to help on the farm. The gals all took piano lessons and now I wish that we would have had Robert take piano because he liked it so much when he got older. But, none of his buddies were interested.  At that time not very many boys were taking lessons at all. Today I’m sad over this fact. Our 4 children brought us so much joy and fun. We really had some wonderful meal talks. Manvel laid down the law that if the phone rang, the person was told they would be called back after dinner was over. It worked.

Back to Back to Back

Back to Back to Back

This Christmas was difficult without Mom so I was extremely grateful for the distraction of the NDSU Bison Football.  The team had a great season and they headed into the FCS playoffs as the undefeated, favorite, returning back to back champions, and I was able to watch most of their games on TV, even here in VA.

I shouldn't admit I was trying to skip Christmas, but truth is, I was.  Without Mom, it felt empty as hers was the gift each year that caused me the most anxiety and excitement.  But, she would have wanted us to celebrate the birth of Christ and exchange gifts, so we did.  The scale was smaller, but the love was big.

As the shopping and cleaning pressed on, so did the Bison.  The team literally sprinted through the post season defeating each team in a very commanding fashion.  No one got close and the road to the National Championship game in Frisco, TX was being paved with delirious Bison fans and an amazing team as January 4th, Championship Saturday approached.  I was about to join Bison Nation.

My cousin Allen from North Dakota wondered if I was planning to attend the game, and texted me to find out.  At that time, I didn't have plans to go, but he and Lisa did and they would be taking their Ginormous Motor Home.  They offered me a spot in it for sleeping and tailgating and I decided to explore the possibilities.  The tickets to the game were expensive, the tickets to the Pep Fest were selling out and airline tickets were mostly unreasonable, except if I were to fly out of BWI (Baltimore Washington International) in Towson U's back yard.  Towson was the competition for the national championship game, and that idea offered its own unique appeal.

When Tom came looking for me that Sunday afternoon I was holed up in our bedroom re-watching the Towson and Eastern Washington game on DVR TV like a crack addict.  I asked him if I should abandon my fantasy to attend the National Championship Game in Frisco, TX.  He said, "NO, don't abandon the fantasy, GO!  This is a once in a life time opportunity!"  At that point I was giddy with excitement and started looking for tickets for real.

A couple hours later I had tickets for the game, the pep rally and flights out of BWI and an Amtrak ticket to get me to BWI and back from Fredericksburg, VA.  The stage was set!

Suddenly the Bison Migration included me and the motto, "We Roam Like it's Home" was my motto too!  The Bison were favored by 13 points so the 3-peat was very possible, in fact, barring some unexpected event, it was quite likely.  Things were going as planned.

The morning I was to depart the ground in VA was covered with fresh icy snow.  The roads had been cleared but they were icy.  Zach and I made it to the train station at 6:45 AM without any problems and my train to BWI Station was on time.  While I waited for my flight to board I talked with the Schuster family from Maryland who's son was a senior on the Towson team.  There was a spirit of cooperation and happiness on both sides as we were all sure our teams would win.  My flight arrived in Dallas Fort Worth (DFW) on time and my cousin Allen, his wife Lisa and Allen's college roommate Don picked me up and we headed for the Pep Fest.  There were 10,000+ Bison Fans in attendance on Friday night just to scream, yell, sing the school song and more.  The Gold Star Marching Band, the Governor, one Senator, the Mayor of Frisco, hundreds of returning NDSU football players, special videos, a Fargo country rock band called 32 Below, and a complete fireworks display made the night fabulous.  But the most excellent part was the crowd of best friends from NDSU.  I saw home town friends, college friends, people who knew my family, and people I didn't know at all, but we were really united in our hopes for a Bison Victory.  Everyone there was a brother, sister, friend or neighbor of someone I knew.

After the pep rally we went out to restaurants and bars that were completely taken over by NDSU.  The restaurant and pub owners completely catered to us as we came in such a Thundering Herd and apparently have a reputation of spending money on food and drink from our two previous years in Frisco at this championship game.  The barmaids, bar tenders, and waitresses were wearing Bison T-shirts!  The restaurants were decorated with Bison logos!  The specials were all about us and we really showed up.  What a night!

Then came Saturday morning and the tailgating party.  Bison faithful fans packed huge parking lots with buses, vans, pickups, motor homes, and more.  The number of Charter Buses was astounding, the number of NDSU BISON buses all painted in green and yellow was beyond my wildest dreams.  The NDSU Fan Base was all there in crazy Bison clothes, shirts, jackets, wind breakers, overalls, t-shirts, sweatshirts and goofy hats.  The place was electric.  The Gold Star Marching Band marched through the tailgating area, the Governor and Senator were posing for pictures with fans, the Alumni Association was there in full force and the whole event was fabulous.

Then came the game.  As we worked our way to the stadium from the parking lot it was obvious that NDSU fans outnumbered Towson fans by a large margin.  In fact, of the 19,802 fans in attendance, 17,000+ were from NDSU.  It was rumored that Towson's pep rally was attended by 350 fans, so it safe to say that they might have had 1000 fans at the game.  The other 1000 fans were FCS and conference devotees who were there to see the underdog win or to witness history.  It was history they got to witness.

NDSU started out slow and eventually scored the first touchdown in the first quarter.  Towson answered with 7 points of their own and we were tied for a while.  Towson looked to be holding their own for as we headed into the second quarter, but that's when the Bison opened it all the way up.  By half time we were up 21 to 7 and it finished with a Bison 3-peat National Championship victory of 35 to 7.  Powerful!  Commanding!  Awesome!  Our Bison did it again and had an undefeated season with a National Championship.  Being in that stadium during that victory was the best.  It was as if we were at home in the Fargo Dome.  We owned it from the first whistle and even won all the little silly games at halftime.  We are BisoNation and we have earned our spot in history.  I love my school.

Go Bison!  I'll never forget this experience as long as I live.


One year later....

The likelihood of winning a fourth National Championship (back to back to back to back) is small. Even the best teams try and can't repeat that many times, but it can be done. The Bison lost only one game in the 2014 football season and weren't rated #1 most of the year, but winning is a tradition at NDSU and they wanted to give themselves the shot.
With tremendous competition in the playoffs including a last minute victory over SDSU in the dome, the Bison earned their way to the FCS National Championship game again. The rival this time was Illinois State University and they had a quarterback and running back who had each made significant statements coming into the big game. Their only loss came to the same Northern Iowa team who defeated the Bison in season, so their records were the same. The Bison had to really bring it if they were going to repeat...again.
Game dame came, and I was there with my generous cousins Lisa and Allen. We had FUN with the thousands of NDSU fans at the pep rally, restaurants, clubs, tailgating and more. The stadium filled up with about 17,000 NDSU fans and about 3,000 determined fans from Illinois State U. We witnessed a game for the ages as NDSU battled to remain the champions of the FCS and win the Missouri Valley Conference. The game came down to the final minutes and through major heroics from the Bison Offense, we won! We stormed the field, collected our trophy, took pictures and cautiously peaked ahead to what would be slight (enormous!) pressure to field another championship team in the fall of 2015.
Back to Back to Back to Back! We did it! We are the BISON from North Dakota State University!

The Tie That Binds - Blessed Be!

The Tie That Binds

The dust motes floated in the sunlight that shone through the south dining room window as the winter afternoon wore on.  I couldn't wait for the older kids to come home from school that day and frankly Mom couldn't either.  I was irritating her with questions, looking for things to do, and just biding time until my three older siblings would arrive home, courtesy of our Uncle Duane Green.  I was 5 years old and at that time, kindergarten was a short summer program taught by the first grade teacher prior to first grade.  So I spent my 5 year old kindergarten year at home with my Mom as my teacher.  She was a really good one.  We enjoyed that pre-school year together but I'm not sure who enjoyed it more.

Back to School
When fall arrived the older siblings went off to school while Dad, Grandpa Green, Uncle Ralph and the farm helpers finished the harvest and field work.  Mom and I hung out together on the farm.  Naturally, I was disappointed that I couldn't go to school too, but Mom promised me we'd have fun.  I remember our laundry days, our grocery shopping outings, and the house cleaning that kept us busy.  But there were a few days that stood out and we really did have fun that year.

Our Harvest Adventure
Mom was a really amazing truck driver who loved to help with harvest and I got to ride along in her potato and sugar beet trucks for many many loads.  She followed directions, could match the speed of the harvester perfectly, could keep the moving truck in the exact right spot to get a perfect load, and back the truck into the long dark potato bin each and every time.  She was charming, fun, looked cute in her jeans and wore pretty lipstick.  She was really determined to contribute to a safe, efficient and effective harvest.  She was driven, smart, and had a sense of purpose.  She was a bit competitive and would try to gain on the other truck drivers by being accurate and consistent, while staying safe.  I loved riding in her truck.

Stan's Cafe
I remember a day when we had to go shopping in Grafton, ND about 15 miles away.  I don't recall what we were shopping for, but I remember when we finished it was near lunchtime and we were still in Grafton.  Mom suggested we should go to lunch.  I was amazed and delighted with the prospect because eating out at a restaurant, alone with my Mom, with none of the big kids in attendance was unheard of.  She said it would be our secret and I couldn't believe my luck.  I was practically holding my breath with excitement as we walked into Stan's Cafe.  The smells were amazing and it was full of people, many who knew Mom and made comments about her little lunch date.  Mom was very pretty and even then I could see the way people looked at her.  She charmed them without trying because she was very attractive and I imagined us to be quite a team of cuties. To those who asked, she smiled and explained we were just girlfriends having lunch together.  I was beaming.  We sat down in our booth and I didn't have a clue what to order.  Previously when Mom and Dad would take us all out to restaurants, I'd ask my Dad what I could order.  Dad would always say, "Anything you want, honey."  I wondered if those rules applied to "a lunch date with girlfriends."  I asked my Mom what I should order and she suggested the hot roast beef sandwich.  She knew I loved mashed potatoes with gravy, and roast beef was familiar and delicious.  I had never had a "hot roast beef sandwich" but I took her advice.  It was delicious!  It was fabulous!  My first ever girlfriend lunch with my mom (or anyone!) was incredible.  I felt like a princess.

Riding Flicka
Another shopping trip brought us back to Grafton's main street and I really wanted to ride the little horse carousel at Earl's Shoe Store.  The mini carousel was a kid ride of four horses that went in a tight circle and it was quite a thrill.  We didn't need to buy shoes that day, but I wanted to ride the horses anyway.  I asked and Mom clearly stated that the horse ride was for paying customers.  I didn't understand because I saw other kids enjoying the ride.  Mom explained that Earl, of Earl's Shoe Store, had the horses there for his customers and when we were customers we could ride.  At that point I could hardly wait until we would need Easter shoes, but Mom taught me we needed to wait. My favorite horse in the little carousel was named Flicka, and Flicka would just have to wait.

Singing at the Top of our Lungs
When Christmas time rolled around, I was Mom's shopping girlfriend and sidekick.  She had a lot of Christmas shopping to do so we made many trips to Grafton.  I believe I was properly distracted by wise sales clerks when certain items would get checked out and bagged. Other times I was sworn to secrecy. I remember one cold winter day riding home around the Auburn curve singing "City sidewalks, busy sidewalks, dressed in holiday style...in the air there's a feeling of Christmas.  Children laughing, people passing....."at the top of our lungs.  Mom knew all the words and we sounded SO good in the car.  We laughed and sang along with the radio to the next songs too.  We were girlfriends on a shopping trip and my Mom was the best "girlfriend" ever!

Robin's Four Eggs
One spring morning she explained to me that a robin was a bird with a red tummy also known as a red breast.  She explained that robins were one of the first birds we'd see in the spring on the farm as they migrated back to build their nests and raise their families.  Mom said that I should look for one.  She even said if I saw the first robin of the spring, I'd get a Snickers mini candy bar!  That got me thoroughly engaged in the lesson.  She went on to say robin's eggs were a beautiful blue and the lucky momma birds often laid four eggs in the nest, although some moms only got three.  Being the fourth child in our family of four kids, this was very exciting news for me and I considered my mother one of the lucky ones who got four babies as I smugly enjoyed that part of the lesson.  She observed my satisfied grin and added a hug at that point in this excellent science lesson.  Eventually I got so focused on finding this spring robin that I parked myself at the back porch window on a stool and waited and stared.  It was still cool outside and Mom was finishing housework.  I waited, I watched, and finally I spotted a bright red breasted robin!  I screamed with joy and Mom came running, just in time to see it by the tree, hopping along in search of food in the back yard.  She gave me a big warm hug and a smile of enormous approval.  She congratulated me on my persistence and went to retrieve the Snickers candy bar.  Victory is so sweet.

Renae's Bike
My Mom loved her family and especially her sister Lorraine in Drayton.  If the work was done or when we were finished at the laundromat, we would get to go have "coffee" with Lorraine.  Lorraine would make coffee, whip up a delicious cake, sweet bread, or cookies to go along with the coffee and visit with Mom and me.  Lorraine's youngest daughter Becky would play with me a little, but I was 5 and she was 2, so sometimes she'd need a nap while we visited.  If that was the case, I'd get to try to ride my older cousin Renae's little blue bicycle on the driveway while Mom and Lorraine visited some more.  I remember wondering if it was ok for me to be out there on the driveway by myself, but they were listening and watching me as they visited.  I think they knew when I fell into Aunt Lorraine's pretty bee filled gladiolas, and honestly it happened more than once.  I persisted and it was on Renae's little bike, while she was at school, with the bees in the hollyhocks, that I learned to ride a bike.  I'm sure Mom, Aunt Lorraine and little Becky were impressed.

Blessed Be the Tie that Binds
And then came the day that I was particularly impatient waiting for Laurie, Rob, and Pam to come home from school.  The sun shone in on the dust motes and I waited impatiently for the big kids. Mom had done all that she could to keep me entertained.  Finally, in what I remember as slight frustration on her part, she took me to the piano for a lesson.  She told me about one of Grandma Sophie Mattson's favorite hymns and proceeded to teach me to play "Blessed Be the Tie that Binds."  I learned to play it with one finger and played it for the rest of the afternoon. She taught me the words too, because they were important to Grandma Sophie.  We sang it at the top of our lungs and it was our song and is to this day.

Lessons Learned
Maybe she got more done when I was eagerly waiting to spot the robin.  Maybe she had more time with her sister while I was learning to ride my cousin's bike.  Maybe she found a moment of peace while I was practicing our song on the piano.  But I know I learned patience, respect, and love of my Lord by and through her example.

Blessings
Last night at Bible Study Fellowship we sang Blessed Be the Tie That Binds.  Naturally I thought of Mom, Grandma Sophie, Aunt Lorraine, Cousins Becky and Renae, Laurie, Robert, Pam, Dad, Uncle Ralph, Grandpa and Grandma Green, all the other cousins, aunts, uncles, and friends who share my faith. I shed a tear while singing along and then a smile of pure joy.  Thanks Mom, you were a great teacher, wonderful girlfriend, and super Mom.