Indians In The Cellar

   My newest book is being released today. When two Indians seek refuge at her Pennsylvania Mennonite home in1763, ten-year-old Anna is terrified.. As she learned to know the old couple Anna learned that Indians are people just like everyone else. They have talents and emotions. They have things to teach us. And they are loved by the God who created them.

   The book can be purchased online from CAM Books.

https://cambooks.org/shop/cam-published-books/new-releases/indians-in-the-cellar/

The Origins of Scrapple

 

Everything but the Oink: The Origins of Scrapple

If hot dogs are the culinary mystery novels of American cuisine, then scrapple is the Pennsylvania Dutch twist ending. This humble breakfast loaf has been raising eyebrows (and cholesterol levels) for centuries. A blend of pork scraps, cornmeal, and spices cooked into a savory brick, scrapple is proof that the Pennsylvania Dutch wasted nothing and seasoned everything. Slice it, fry it until crispy, and you’ve got a dish that’s as polarizing as pineapple on pizza. Some folks swear by it with apple butter, others drizzle on maple syrup, and plenty keep it simple with ketchup. However you dress it, scrapple is a cut above—literally.

Scrapple has roots in the 17th and 18th centuries, among German settlers who are now known as the Pennsylvania Dutch. They brought with them panhas, a dish made from pork scraps and grains. When they set up shop in Pennsylvania, they swapped in local staples like cornmeal, creating the loaf we fry up today. It was the ultimate thrifty invention. Nothing from the pig went to waste. Head, heart, liver, and trimmings all went into the pot. Add flour and spice, let it set, then slice and fry. The result was a dish that filled bellies without emptying wallets. Talk about living high on the hog—while also eating the low parts.

Scrapple has a reputation similar to that of its cousin, the hot dog. Everyone loves the taste, but not everyone wants the ingredient list. “Everything but the oink” is a phrase often tossed around. Still, scrapple isn’t trying to hide what it is. It’s right there in the name—scraps. The Pennsylvania Dutch weren’t squeamish. They saw opportunity in odds and ends, turning what some might discard into a breakfast tradition that still sizzles in Lancaster diners and Philly kitchens.

Scrapple doesn’t just sit around loafing. To reach its full potential, it must hit the hot pan. The goal is a crispy outside and a tender inside. Too thin and it burns. Too thick and it’s gummy. Get it just right, though, and you’ll understand why it remains a Pennsylvania staple. And then comes the great debate: what goes on top? Apple butter brings a sweet country charm, maple syrup makes it breakfast’s best friend, while ketchup adds a tangy kick. Some adventurous eaters even layer it with eggs in a sandwich. Whatever your topping, scrapple has a way of hogging the spotlight once it’s on the plate.

Scrapple may never win a beauty contest, but it has endured for centuries because it delivers on what truly matters: flavor, thrift, and tradition. From German farm kitchens to Pennsylvania diners, this scrappy little loaf has oinked its way into the cultural identity of the region. Like hot dogs at a ballgame, scrapple is more than just food—it’s a story, a memory, and for some, a taste of home. Love it or leave it, scrapple remains the breakfast food that refuses to be pork-gotten.

September 30, 2025  

unchartedadam

Advertising Jingles

   Funny how some things you haven't thought of for years suddenly pop into your head. They were there all the time but hidden under the clutter of years of thoughts and memories.

   Last weekend my sister-in-law started singing the first line of a jingle from the 1960s for Breyers ice cream. I remembered every word.

Hello, Bryers calling,

We have wonderful ice cream for you,

We have chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry too,

And great combinations of flavor for you.

Hello, Bryers calling,

In winter, summer, or fall,

Quality buyers ask for Bryers,

The greatest ice cream of them all. 

    That reminded me of another jingle from the same era.

For summer sunshine, 

Freshness and flavor,

Home canning like yours 

Deserves the lasting protection

That a Ball dome lid assures.

You put the goodness in, 

Ball dome lids keep it in,

Ball dome lids!

   I remember when my mother started using the two-piece Ball dome lids. She had always used the zinc lids with red rubber seals. She was a little skeptical of the new lids but soon won over. The unreliable zinc lids and rubber rings were stashed away. Years later she used some of the old blue canning jars and zinc lids to make lamps for her children.

  Other old jingles I remember are "Things go better with Coca-Cola, things go better with Coke."

  

Let your fingers do the walking

Through the yellow pages,

See the ads, learn the facts,

Find it fast.

    Music helps cement words in our minds, be it ads or Scripture verses. Marketing companies know that and there is the proof. Jingles I heard in the 60s are still in there more than fifty years later. 

Counting the Seasons

    Fall officially arrived this week. I remember reading in a book years ago that "they didn't count the months, only the seasons." I thought that was strange but now I understand. The older I get the faster time flies and the seasons seem much shorter than they used to be.

    This is the season to clean up the debris of summer and begin to withdraw to the indoors. Crops are being harvested and a few leaves in a hurry to color dot the woods. The mums are blooming and pumpkins adorn every roadside produce market. Summer is the peak of the year but the heat and humidity drains the energy out of a body. Cooler fall temperatures are invigorating and nature puts on a colorful show before it goes to sleep for the winter.

   As usual, in the fall I start thinking about the projects I want to complete this winter. There is a quilt top ready to quilt, a historical article I started and shoved to the back burner, other ideas for short stories also simmer in the background, puzzles waiting to be put together, and another set of 40 baby caps to crochet for the layette bundles at sewing circle. I'm sure other things will pop up as we go along and there are all the usual housekeeping and volunteer jobs to do.

  I often get calls from people asking genealogy or history questions that distract me. Someone stopped in this week with a question I could quickly answer. The one that came up last week took some work. There were two Henry Mussers in Lancaster County that were the same age and being confused. The children of the Henry buried in Brecknock Township in 1805 were assigned to the Henry in Leacock Township who also died in 1805. It took some sleuthing to untangle them and get the children with the correct father. That's more fun than housekeeping and my favorite type of puzzle.

   I am ready for a change of seasons and activities. Fall will flash by so fast there will not be time to count the months.

   

The Golden Hour

 Remember your Creator

   in the days of your youth,

before the days of trouble come

    and the years approach when you will say,

    “I find no pleasure in them”—

 

before the sun and the light

    and the moon and the stars grow dark,

and the clouds return after the rain;

when the keepers of the house tremble,

    and the strong men stoop,

when the grinders cease because they are few,

    and those looking through the windows grow dim; 

 

when the doors to the street are closed

    and the sound of grinding fades;

when people rise up at the sound of birds,

    but all their songs grow faint;

 

when people are afraid of heights

    and of dangers in the streets;

when the almond tree blossoms

    and the grasshopper drags itself along

    and desire no longer is stirred.

Then people go to their eternal home

    and mourners go about the streets.

Ecclesiastes 12:1-5 NIV

   This passage from Ecclesiastes is addressed to young people but the description of old age sure fits us today. I wouldn't say we have no pleasure in life, but there are times that old age isn't fun. For example, spending the night in the ER because you did something that scared your children and they called 911.

   Just when you think you are finished with all your doctor appointments, something else pops up. (The clouds return after the rain.)  Hands get shaky (keepers of the house tremble), backs become stooped, teeth need to be pulled (grinders are few), vision grows dim, hearing fades, sleep patterns are disturbed, it isn't safe to go up a roof or ladder (afraid of heights) or drive far at night (dangers in the streets), and hormones no longer stir desire. All these are signs the body is wearing out and life on earth is drawing to a close.

   We have had a lot of good years but in the last year the slide downhill has picked up speed. The list of imperfections in our bodies has grown longer. Between us, we've got all of them listed above. But that has not stopped us from enjoying the days we have left. We like to sit on the patio in the evening and watch the sun go down. We enjoy walks down our country road, talking to our children and grandchildren, reading the Bible through every year, and many other pleasures.

   Old age has its benefits and limits. The key to enjoying old age is to focus on the benefits and accept the limitations without dwelling on them or rehearsing them at every opportunity.  The hectic days of driving children to school, canning hundreds of quarts of fruit, and being on call day and night seven days a week are over. There is time to volunteer with organizations that help the poor and lost, give a helping hand to a young mother, weep with those who weep, and move at a slower pace doing what needs to be done instead of just what is most urgent at the moment. 

    Old age is the golden hour. We can look back on a long list of answered prayers and years of spiritual growth. We no longer care if we aren't up-to-date with the fads or trends. We are satisfied with what we have and don't need any more stuff. There is a contented glow at the end of life as we anticipate the glory of our eternal Home beyond the sunset.

    

   

August Days

  The weather this week has been amazing for  the first full week of August.  We turned off the AC and let the windows open day and night. I have lived enough summers to know the hints of fall when I see them. Warm days, sunny blue skies, low humidity, and cool nights. I know what nature is up to. It's beginning the work of painting the leaves for the next season. 

   Of course, it won't stay this way the rest of the month and another heat wave is in the cards. But there is no denying summer is winding down. Corn, peaches and tomatoes are in season. Back to school sales are doing a brisk business. The seasons change so gently they begin as a mixture of seasons.

The last of summer and the first of fall

Together they stand in August Days.

The garden is bright with summer bloom,

And yet there creeps up that autumn haze.

You can look forward or look backwards

To a lovely summer you would recall,

But the changing of the season has come -

The last of summer and the first of fall.

Lenore Hetrick

Earn Your Salt

    I did a post in June last year about the PA Dutch words we mix in with our English speaking. But a lot of our English words either come from or are rooted in other languages.  Language changes constantly. Today's English does not look or sound anything like it did in the eleventh century. At various points in history, German, French, Latin, and Greek languages influenced the development of English to produce the Modern English we speak today. 

   Some of the words we think are English are actually Latin. Some examples are campus, extra, focus, habitat, labor, and major, to name a few. Some words that are rooted in Latin include maternal from maternus, mode from modus, number from numerus, tremble from tremere, and a host of others.

   Here is one I learned recently. The Latin word for salt is sal; the plural form is salium. In ancient times, salt was a valuable resource. With no refrigeration or freezers, salt was used to preserve meat, fish, and other foods. Salt was so valuable it could be used as cash to purchase things. Sometimes taxes were required to be paid in salt rather than money. From salium we get the English word salary. 

    That reminds me of what my mother used to tell me when I was being lazy. "You didn't earn your salt today." I thought she was saying I didn't work enough to earn the cheapest thing on the table, but it came from salt being the most valuable thing and meant I hadn't earned a salary.

   There are many other sayings rooted in history. For example: "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth." If someone was given a horse, it was rude to look in the horse's mouth to examine the health of the animal. The saying means be grateful for a gift and don't find fault with it.

    "Burning the candle at both ends" implies working hard late at night. It comes from the days when candles were the primary source of light. 

     In 1947 when engineers working on an early computer found a moth causing an electrical fault that disrupted the hardware. One of the scientists popularized the term "computer bug" by taping the moth in the log book with a note, "First actual case of a bug being found."

    Language will continue to change. Some of the old sayings will continue to be passed on long after they have lost their meaning with the change of culture. In the meantime, earn your salt.

Fifty-eight Years

   Today we are celebrating 58 years of marriage. When I look at our wedding picture I see a blissfully ignorant 19-year-old bride who didn't know as much as she thought she did. Thankfully, the groom was 23 and had a little more sense than the bride.

   I also see a bride who sweated her way through a hot summer day with no AC in a long-sleeved dress made of lace over taffeta that did not breathe. In those days, skirts were knee length. Floor-length wedding dresses were considered worldly and forbidden. I made my dress about mid-calf which was about as long as I dared. I'm glad I did that because now it would be embarrassing to have a skirt on my wedding picture as short as I normally wore them. Underneath the skirt was a half slip made of stiff netting to make the skirt stand out. That fashion was going out of style but a wedding dress still needed a stiff slip. Today, women in our church wear long skirts every day with the approval of the church, and I appreciate the modesty.

   Flowers were also not allowed in weddings in the 1960s. Brides usually carried a Bible with a normal black cover or a lacy hankie. I wanted a white Bible but that was considered extravagant since it would only be used for the wedding. I got permission from the bishop to cover my Bible with the same fabric as my dress and have two white ribbons trailing from it. There were red roses and ivy scattered on the tables at the reception. After the meal I picked up a bouquet which I carried the rest of the day.

   We left that evening for the West Coast and traveled as far as Chambersburg before we got a motel. The next morning we attended the service at the Chambersburg Mennonite Church where one of my friends was a member. Our route the next couple weeks took us south to Mississippi, Texas, just across the border into Mexico, New Mexico, Arizona, California, Oregon, and then east through the Midwest. We came home to settle into a rented house while we built a new house. We moved into the new house with our first child in the fifteenth month of our marriage and still live there.

   

   Many things have changed in 58 years. Life itself is a series of changes. One thing that has not changed is our commitment to each other. We went into it fully intending to stay the course. There have been ups and downs, but that is to be expected. The longer it goes the more I treasure each day. I know our time on earth is running out and I am very grateful God has granted us 58 years together.

Canassatego's Arrows

This is shared from a website called Uncharted Lancaster. I learned something from it. When you reach the end, get out a $1 bill and look at it.

From Lancaster to the Constitution: How a 1744 Native American Speech Shaped a Nation

In the sweltering summer of 1744, the streets of Lancaster, Pennsylvania, were alive with unfamiliar sights, sounds, and smells. Hundreds of Native Americans from the Six Nations of the Iroquois Confederacy had traveled by foot and canoe to this bustling colonial town to participate in what would become one of the most significant diplomatic gatherings in early American history. Known today as the Treaty of Lancaster (1744), the two-week conference not only reshaped colonial land claims but planted the seeds of American democracy through the powerful words of an Iroquois leader: Canassatego.

Setting the Stage

At the time, the Iroquois Confederacy was a formidable political and military force, stretching across what is now New York and parts of Pennsylvania. With tensions rising between British colonies and French forces in the Ohio Valley, the colonies of Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia saw an opportunity: secure Iroquois neutrality—or better yet, alliance—while also acquiring Native land.

The setting for the negotiations was Lancaster’s original courthouse, located in the heart of town where today the Soldiers and Sailors Monument stands in Penn Square. From June 22 to July 4, colonial commissioners and Iroquois leaders gathered daily inside the courthouse to talk, debate, and drink—a lot. Conrad Weiser, Pennsylvania’s trusted interpreter, served as the go-between, translating long speeches delivered in rich metaphor and oral tradition. Each speech concluded with the dramatic presentation of wampum belts, thunderous applause, and hearty cries of “Yo-hah!” from the Iroquois.Negotiations between colonist leaders and the Six Nations

Outside the courthouse, Lancaster was transformed. Hundreds of wigwams sprang up on the edge of town, their fires sending up steady plumes of smoke scented with bear grease and venison stew. Native families mingled with the 1,500 residents of Lancaster, shopping in the market, inspecting colonial goods, and prompting mutual curiosity. Townspeople hung out of windows to catch a glimpse of the painted delegates. Many were shocked to see the visitors eating with their hands.

The Goals of the Treaty

Colonial leaders had two key objectives: first, to extinguish Iroquois land claims in Maryland and Virginia to clear the way for westward expansion; and second, to ensure the Iroquois would remain neutral, or even supportive, in the looming conflict with France. In return, the Iroquois received gunpowder, blankets, metal tools, trade goods, and a generous supply of rum. By the end of the conference, land claims were signed away, alliances were confirmed, and symbolic gifts were exchanged: a scarlet coat for Chief Canassatego from the Virginians and a bold-laced hat for Chief Gachadow from the Maryland delegation.

But the most enduring gift of the Treaty of Lancaster came not in the form of rum or rifles. It came in the form of a speech.

Canassatego: The Smartest Man in the Room

The clear voice of reason during the negotiations belonged to Canassatego, an Onondaga chief and a leading spokesman for the Iroquois Confederacy. Described as tall and powerfully built, with a full chest, brawny arms, a good-natured smile, and an electrifying presence, Canassatego commanded attention every time he spoke.Canassatego speaks to the assembly.

Born in the late 1600s or early 1700s, Canassatego rose to prominence as a diplomat during a turbulent period in the relations between the Iroquois and the colonists. By 1744, he had already participated in several key negotiations and had proven himself a savvy leader who understood both Native and European politics. Though he could not read or write, his command of logic, metaphor, and oratory made him one of the most influential Indigenous leaders of the 18th century. His final speech at the Treaty of Lancaster would become legendary.

 A Bundle of Arrows and a Lesson in Unity

On the final day of the conference, Canassatego rose before a packed room of colonial officials and Native delegates. In his booming voice, he urged the colonies to consider the Iroquois model of government: a confederacy bound together by shared purpose, mutual respect, and coordinated action.

“We heartily recommend union and a good agreement between you, our brethren,” he said. “Never disagree, but preserve a strict friendship for one another and thereby, you, as well as we, will become the stronger.”

Then, in a striking moment of symbolism, he reached into his quiver. He pulled out a single arrow and broke it easily across his knee. Then he pulled out six arrows—one for each of the Iroquois nations—and bound them together. This time, no matter how hard he tried, he could not break them. The message was clear: united, the colonies would be unbreakable.Canassatego holding six arrows representing the Six Nations.

Canassatego concluded with the wisdom of his ancestors: “Our wise forefathers established union and amity between the Five Nations. This has made us formidable. This has given us great weight and authority with our neighboring nations. We are a powerful confederacy, and by your observing the same methods… you will acquire fresh strength and power.”

Franklin, the Founders, and the Constitution

Canassatego’s words did not disappear into the summer air. They were recorded, published, and widely circulated in colonial newspapers, most notably by Benjamin Franklin. Franklin, who had long admired the Iroquois League’s political system, was deeply inspired by the speech. Ten years later, at the Albany Congress in 1754, he would reference Canassatego’s advice in his push for colonial unity.

Some historians now recognize Canassatego’s speech as a foundational moment in American political thought. His call for unity influenced not only Franklin’s Albany Plan of Union but also—decades later—the Articles of Confederation and the United States Constitution itself.

Though Canassatego was assassinated in 1750 by pro-French Native factions, his vision outlived him. Today, his speech is considered one of the earliest Indigenous contributions to the philosophy of American governance.

A Legacy in the Great Seal

The influence of Canassatego and the Iroquois model of confederacy is not just a historical footnote—it’s woven into the very fabric of American symbolism. On the back of every one-dollar bill, in the left talon of the eagle, you’ll find a bundle of 13 arrows. It’s a direct echo of Canassatego’s bundle of six: strength through unity.

This iconography, part of the Great Seal of the United States, was designed to represent the 13 original colonies standing together. It is a powerful visual legacy of the advice delivered in a Lancaster courthouse nearly 300 years ago.

Canassatego and the Great Seal of the United States.

Epilogue: Two Weeks That Changed a Nation

When the Treaty of Lancaster finally concluded, the Native families packed up their wigwams, loaded their horses and dogs, and departed the town. The smell of bear grease slowly faded. But something profound had taken root in the minds of the colonists, especially in men like Franklin.

The treaty may have settled land disputes and secured short-term alliances, but its true significance lies in the philosophical bridge it built between two worlds. Canassatego’s counsel didn’t just help shape a confederacy of Native nations. It helped shape the birth of a new one.

Father's Day 2025

    Father's Day this year was very special. First of all, we were glad Leroy survived his open heart surgery and is healing rapidly. Second, with a daughter living out of state it is nigh impossible for all our children to be with their dad on Father's Day. As far as I can recall that has not happened since 1991 when she got married. But this year our annual family cabin weekend happened to fall on Father's Day.

    The cabin we had been going to for many years was sold so this year we tried a different cabin. It was a rainy weekend so the children couldn't be outside much but everyone seemed to be enjoying the weekend.

   On Saturday morning we discovered that without preplanning most of the younger grandchildren were wearing yellow. One of the two girls in pink and the smallest boy with a yellow shirt are great-grandchildren. The 1-year old held by his sister are grandchildren. 

   We filled two tables at meal time.

   There were crafts for the small fry,

   games for the older ones,

   a puzzle for the adults

  and relaxation for young and old.

  Everyone attended the church of their choice Sunday morning and regrouped at the cabin for lunch. With Father's Day in mind, our daughter provided some of Leroy's favorite foods---shrimp and a cherry cheese pie. We froze the historic moment of father and children all together on Father's Day. (Two deceased children will always be missing.)

 Before anyone left we preserved another moment of all of us with the 1967 Chevelle we drove for many years. They lined up by age behind the car. The oldest was 15 when the youngest was born. We had that car crammed full with six children for one year until the oldest could drive. That would not be possible today but car seats were not required in 1983 when the youngest was born. 

   The weekend passed by much too fast but the memories will keep us smiling.

Gold or Yellow?

    Yesterday I was sitting in a waiting room while my husband got an x-ray. Sitting beside me was a black lady who was doing the same thing. She was on her phone a minute or two and then turned and apologized for not saying hello immediately. She said in the country she came from you always say hello to people you meet.

    She spoke English with an accent so I asked what country she came from. She said they were from Kenya and had been in the US a long time but now were going back to do "charity work." From then on, the rest of the things she said were about how they want to tell everyone about Jesus and what He has done for them. She knew her Bible well and quoted Scriptures freely, saying people are too materialistic and that is not what life is about. I agreed with everything she said. She put me to shame. When have I ever had a conversation with a stranger that was all about Jesus and spreading the Good News?

    The early Anabaptists in Switzerland were passionate about evangelism and spread their faith everywhere they went. They were not fazed by the high cost. If a man was ordained he could expect to be executed in about six months. As persecution drove them to more tolerate areas of Germany and France, they accepted the terms of not proselytizing and kept to themselves. When our ancestors came to America, they continued the isolation from society and became known as "the quiet in the land."

     Sad to say, too many of us are still quiet. We don't see meeting a stranger as an opportunity to share our faith. And I  am as guilty as anyone. I never asked the lady what her name is but her enthusiasm for sharing her faith will stick with me. Silence is not always golden, sometimes it's plain yellow.

The Prayer of Faith

    Since Adam and Eve sinned in the Garden of Eden, human life has been a terminal condition. We know that no one lives forever but it is easy to ignore the fact, especially when we are young. As the years roll along and we age, we think about it once in awhile that our time on earth is rushing by. But life continues as usual and we go along without dwelling on the possibility that we are living our last days. Of course, there could be an accident or something that brings life to an abrupt halt but there are no dark clouds looming on the horizon. We had some things in order in case something happened but saw no dangers of life ending any time soon.

    That's how we were living until Easter this year. When Leroy admitted he was having some chest pains, he saw his cardiologist who ordered a cauterization. He had three stents put in three years ago and we thought he probably needs more stents. The cauterization showed stents would not help and he needed open heart bypass surgery. With the condition of his clogged arteries, he was in danger of having a heart attack at any time. Suddenly we were staring the possibility of death without a moment's notice. What would I do if I was left alone?

    Leroy was scheduled for surgery on May 21. We prepared with an anointing service on May 18. It was a solemn service as all the ministry laid hands on him and prayed for healing and peace of mind. I had peace of mind as well and felt confident he would survive.

   Surgery had to be postponed two days due to a tangle with the insurance. We left for the hospital at 6 a.m. on Friday, May 23. Our son and another son's wife sat with me in the waiting room until the surgery was completed. Leroy was taken directly from the OR to the ICU where he was for two days. He doesn't remember much of those days.

    He spent four more days in a private room and came home on May 28. Then we tackled the hard part of doing therapy to get him going again. He cooperated and responded well. Our children took turns being with us,. The first two days someone was here around the clock. Then we were alone at night and soon I was able to help him and take him on walks myself. 

   Twelve days after surgery, he was back to making his own breakfast and able to walk one-third of a mile. His rapid recovery exceeded our expectations. He has not regained his full strength but the visiting nurse who comes to the house said she was amazed how well he is doing in such a short time. The physical therapist came, did an evaluation, said you don't need me, and discharged him. In a few more weeks he should be back to normal.

    Leroy had a good doctor and nurses. He did his therapy faithfully. But the credit for his rapid healing goes to God and is an answer to prayer. To God be the glory!

   "Is any sick among you? let him call for the elders of the church; and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord: And the prayer of faith shall save the sick." James 5:14-15a

A Life Well Lived

  My sister is retiring from forty years of teaching English at Terre Hill Mennonite High School. A life well lived and fulfilling career. The school honored her years of service with a retirement party on March 30. 

  The yearbook committee dedicated the 2025 yearbook to Dr. Burkholder. They also videoed this interview with her as her final year of teaching comes to a close. To  see the video, copy and paste the link to  your browser.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1jkvVfKLQHI

It Came to Pass

 

   Fifty-six years ago we bought a 1.3 acre plot of ground from my uncle and built a house. We moved into it in the fall of 1968. The following spring we planted grass around the house and started a garden behind the lawn. Our family grew and the garden wasn't large enough to grow all the food I needed to can and freeze to feed them. 

   I don't remember which year it was when we doubled the size of the garden. It then stretched the entire length of our land and was the width of the space between the trees on the picture below. It was about four-tenth of an acre. Our neighbor plowed and disced it for us every spring with his tractor.

Looking from top to bottom (above) and bottom to top (below)

    A garden that size was a lot of work, but it takes a lot of food to grow five boys and a girl. They all helped with the work of growing and preserving the food. We had a strawberry patch and planted all sorts of vegetables. At the peak of our gardening, it was taking six cups of corn for one meal. The garden was not big enough to grow enough corn, so the corn for freezing came from Grandpa's farm. 

    After some of our children married we cut the garden in half and planted grass in the top half. As the size of the family decreased, so did the garden. We cut the width in half sometime later.  I don't have pictures of every decrease until 2009 when we cut it in half again.

   Leroy worked up  the ground with a tiller behind the garden tractor and we planted grass in the top half.

   The garden now was mostly for fresh eating. We planted peas, lettuce, onions, and cabbage in April. Then in May we planted potatoes, corn, green beans, and tomatoes. I also planted a row of Cana tubers along the right edge.

   We cut the width of the garden in half again when we were empty nesters. After a disastrous garden season in 2024, we decided the time had come to give up gardening. There are so many produce farmers in the area we can easily get fresh produce without the work of gardening. Leroy said, "It will mow easier than it will hoe."

    Yesterday our youngest son came and planted grass in the small remanent of what had once been a huge garden. The garden had been doubled once and reduced four times. The fifth time it was reduced to zero. It came to be and passed into history. But oh the memories we made in that garden!

  

The Same God

   Yesterday I read the story of Gideon in Judges 6. God called him to deliver Israel from the oppression of the Midianites. He hesitated and asked God for a sign. First he asked that a fleece he laid out would be wet with dew in the morning and the grass dry. When that happened, he still hesitated and asked for the opposite---that the fleece would be dry and the grass wet. As I read the story I was reminded of something that happened ten years ago.

   Stephen Burkholder was serving with a mission in Nepal. On April 25, 2015, there was a 7.8 earthquake with the center about 53 miles northwest of the capital city of Kathmandu. Aftershocks continued for several days. Hundreds of thousands of Nepalese were homeless with entire villages flattened. Tents were suddenly the hottest item on the market and sold out quickly. Stephen found a place in India to get tarps and was involved in their distribution. 

   One day he was sitting beside a little country road with a pile of tarps waiting for a truck. One of the men helping with the work called and said there was a hailstorm where he was and it was heading Stephen’s way. He could see it coming and there was absolutely no place to go for protection. He prayed, “Lord, I’m here on your business and I’d really rather not get wet and pounded by hail.” He sat there watching the storm coming and eventually it was lightning and hailing all around him. He didn't have a fleece, but the spot where he was sitting stayed dry.

    Our God is still the same God! He still does the same miracles if we ask.

As Goes the Home

    In the 1960s the ladies in our congregation attended the Associated Sewing Circle meetings held semi-annually. Women from the Lancaster Conference churches in the surrounding counties met in Lancaster County for these meetings. We would hear what was being done in the sewing circles and what the needs were in home and foreign missions. Inspirational talks and reports from various missions were given. I remember looking forward to these meetings because my pen pal from Adams County was usually there. I don't remember when the organization dissolved but I do know attendance declined until it wasn't worth having the meetings anymore.

    After I was married, I attended the Homebuilders meetings, also under the Lancaster Conference. The purpose of  Homebuilders was to encourage women in their careers as wives and mothers. I attended these inspirational meetings until we left Lancaster Conference for a more conservative group. 

    During the time I did volunteer work at the Lancaster Mennonite Historical Society, I was given the job of making a chart of all the organizations for women from 1975 to 1999. There were groups for Literature, Nursing,  Jr. Girls Activities, and others. The Jr. Girls Activities was consistent all the way through but other groups changed over the years. Some died out and new ones were started.

   It was interesting to see the year Homebuilders was dropped it was replaced with Business and Professional Women. It was soon followed by Credentialed Women and then Women in Leadership. The reason the Associated Sewing Circle and Homebuilders were dropped is rather obvious. Women went to work and were not homemakers or sewing anymore. They were too busy building careers to attend meetings for things that did not have priority in their lives.

     The world considers women working as normal and being a homemaker is an unfulfilled life. I beg to differ! Being a homemaker is the most fulfilling career a woman can have. God designed women to be nurturers and men to be leaders and protectors of women. Many of the problems in marriages today are caused by women who have stepped out of their place in God's order. Women who try to work full time and raise a family find the load is too heavy and they are spread too thin. A woman's place is in the home. A mother who puts her child in day care misses so much of their formative years that pass so quickly.

      I am thankful my daughter and all my daughters-in-law chose to be stay at home mothers. This does not mean they cannot do anything except cook and clean. There are many things women can do at home to earn a little money or help others, but the children need to know that Mom will be there to send them off to school and there when they come home. They will eat a home cooked meal and eat at the table as a family. They will read the Bible and pray together. Building a good home is a lot of work and cannot be done as a side job. 

     Look at the church today. Has replacing Homebuilders with Business and Professional Women improved our families, churches, or the world in which live?  "As goes the home, so goes the church, and so goes the nation."