Old Order Mennonite Memoirs

Rolling wheels were a significant part of my Sunday. In accordance to impromptu plans I was a passenger in the van that traveled (rolled with wheels) to Lancaster County. From the turnpike exit in Denver, in the middle of sprawling warehouses and multi-lane highways sat a quaint little church which was our destination. For my brother-in-law, Muddy Creek used to be home, used to be the church he attended with his parents and all his siblings. Although his parents, Ben and Anna Martin, are long gone, some of his siblings still live there, so the invitation was for him, his wife and daughter to share a feast with family after services.

But the Martin co-travelers had other plans. After services my dad and I planned to walk down South Muddy Creek Road a piece to visit at the home of his brother Ivan and Ella Zimmerman, but the walk never happened because his brother John and his wife Emma heard of our coming. Instead of attending their home church in Bowmansville, they came to Muddy Creek church because they hoped to give us a ride in their buggy. (Rolling buggy wheels are not a new thing for me.) It was interesting to share a meal and spend an afternoon with my dad and some of his extended family. I cherish the memories of this sudden trip, which by God's grace was also a safe trip on a dreary, misty day.

A few days earlier my focus was on Christmas plans, some of which didn't materialize. To worship God at Martinsburg church and hear the age old story of Baby Jesus in a manger was granted us and although the feast was made, not all of our invited guests arrived. Some chairs remained empty, some food remained untasted. Although the grandchildren were excited about the gifts we had for them, not all of the gifts were received at our home. Sickness claimed a part of our Christmas even though it was mild and sunny.

Along Lafayette Road that evening, no stormy weather interfered with the supper and singing invitation for the youth. And snowy roads were not a problem for the youth traveling from Union County for weekend socializing.

On the day after Christmas the sunny calm remained. Biking to my daughter's home wasn't cold and the wind in my face was only from my own bike speed. At Granddaughter Bella's house I was welcomed and loved. At 14 months of age, she knows me. We share books and food and although sharing biddy chores is fun, singing Christmas carols with her mama and me, will take a little more time.

She wasn't really interested in touching the great-horned owl's sharp beak and talons, in fact, the big yellow eye caused her to step back in caution. The soft feathers that allowed the owl to fly silently in the night were not helpful in the collision of a speeding vehicle.

Besides an owl, other observations in nature last week included brilliant sunsets and sunrises. Christmas morning had a sliver of moon in the east and white frost, like snow, lay scattered over the empty fields and barren gardens.

And now that I have reached the end of my letter, I will push back my chair. (it will roll with little wheels) A quartet song that my husband and his friends sing together has a wheel in it, too: "There's a little prayer-wheel turning in my heart, O Lord. It's in my head, in my hand, in my heart O Lord, There's a little prayer-wheel turning in my heart" (a Spiritual song as arranged by Eugene Wright).