Thursday, July 19, 2012

Memory Lane

Yesterday was one of those days with Mom where I am left a little breathless at the goodness of God for allowing me to experience this.

It was just another Wednesday. We had no specific plans to begin with. Then a chance comment on Facebook regarding a cousin's berry farm and an open house to sample some raspberries, led me to take Mom on a field trip down Memory Lane.

My Mom was born in Minnesota but her parents moved to Whatcom County when she was very very young. So she grew up in Lynden, specifically the area known as Northwood. Many times over the last couple of years Mom has made mention of desiring a little drive out to see her old stomping grounds. With a hazy weather forecast, the promise of tantalizing raspberries and the location of the farm being close to her parent's homestead, we decided a drive out there was in order.


The visit to my cousin's raspberry farm was fun. The open house they were holding was really more for the serious berry connoisseur as over 100 different varieties were being judged. My cousin Randy was in deep discussion when we crossed the lawn, but his lovely wife Leslie welcomed us warmly and invited us to have something to eat... several delectable raspberry treats were offered. (by the way, Leslie blogs too and you can read all about her crazy entertaining life as a Farmer's Wife  here) We sat under a canopy and visited with Leslie and members of her family, got in a short hello with Farmer Randy, a busy man, and  of course, sampled the raspberries!

Then it was back in the car and a short hop, skip and jump to the old homestead where my Grandma and Grandpa Bauman farmed. Now here's the thing. We passed the house my mom grew up in as we drove towards my cousin's place. Mom said that house used to sit on the farm but the house was moved years after my grandparents sold it. As we slowed down so I could take a better look, and snap a photo or two, mom says in an almost off handed way.... "And that window back there? That was my bedroom and it was in that bedroom that I came home one night from a Young Life meeting and knelt down and asked Jesus to come into my heart."



I have to admit, I was so focused on taking some pictures that I nearly missed this nugget of gold. You know how when someone is talking and you don't realize until the last word of the sentence is uttered that something important has just been shared? That is how I 'heard' this pronouncement from my mother. And as soon as it had registered I wanted to do an instant rewind and have her say it again. I glanced over at her but she was gazing at the house and the countryside around it and soon was launching into another memory of the school that is right next door to the house, as this was where she attended for her primary years.

I let her ramble, promising myself I would pay more close attention to any other facts she chose to share.  We drove down the road a piece and found the Farm. Of course, it has been kept up by the current owners and had a newer house built after the old home was moved to it's current location. Still, as we sat on this quiet country road, watching the cows graze in the fields, I tried to picture my grandfather farming here. this would have been, oh, at least 70 some years ago.





I am sure life was much different back then. Or was it? For the Farmer, has life changed much? Oh, I am sure technology has made farming somewhat different, but the goals remain the same. I must admit as we rode along yesterday I felt such waves of nostalgia for the life of a country girl, wondering what my life would be like today if my husband had chosen farming for a career.....

I am also sure that life was much different back then whether on the farm or not. Our children face a much different world than I knew growing up. Yet some things remain unchanged. We still have a need for a Savior. And the way to Salvation is still as simple as your ABC's...

Admit you are a sinner.  Believe that Jesus Christ alone is the answer. Confess that Jesus is your Lord.

My mom did when she was just a child. She did it in the privacy of her bedroom. I accepted Jesus when I was 9 years old. I was sitting up in a tree in the woods on the farm where I was raised.

As Robert Frost said in his poem, The Road Less Traveled, "'and that has made all the difference."


2 comments:

  1. I certainly enjoyed your mom's reminiscing, and learned things I hadn't known. So glad you made the stop at our farm! And then to hear your mom's remembering of her commitment to Jesus? Wow! What a treasure!

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