Fifty-seven and Counting

    We celebrated our 57th wedding anniversary on Monday while we marveled how fast the years had flown and remembered some highlights of the wedding. We were young, strong and naïvely confident of a rosy life together. Today we are old and don't have enough strength to do some of the things we once did without much effort. I am increasingly more stooped due to a combination of scoliosis, osteoporosis, and rheumatoid arthritis.  I asked Leroy if he would still have married me if he had been able to see how I look today. He turned the question around and asked if I would have married him if I had seen how he is today at eighty years old. We decided we probably wouldn't have believed what we saw.

   We have had a good life although it was not all rosy and my confidence was shot full of holes. I was not as wise or mature as I thought I was at nineteen. There were times I didn't know how to handle the problems in life and made a lot of mistakes. Two things were in our favor. We had a strong faith in God and commitment to each other. 

   The older we get, the more we realize either one without the other would be in trouble. He depends on me to keep the books and the calendar. I depend on him for maintenance of the property and car. We were raised in families with similar values and agree on most things. Sometimes when I didn't agree with him and he went ahead anyway, I found he was right. Our children say they never heard us argue. I'm sure they heard us disagree but never heard a loud blow out argument.

   Leroy worked until he was 77 and retired three years ago. All physical ailments aside, these are the best years of our lives. We enjoy the luxury of being together all day every (or most) day. We do volunteer work at several places as we please. It took a long time and hard work to get to this place. 

  Leroy got a gift certificate for Cracker Barrel for his 80th birthday last December. We saved it to celebrate out anniversary. We have learned that restaurant meals are too large for us and one entre is enough for both of us. We ordered a steak and shrimp dinner with two sides and an additional side of a loaded baked potato. The waiter brought us an extra plate to divide it and it was plenty. I asked him to take a picture of us because it was our anniversary. He obliged and when we finished eating brought us a slice of chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and ice cream "on the house." It was against Leroy's diabetic rules but what could we do when he set it under our noses? We thanked him and ate it!

Sneak Preview

   Last summer I was asked to write something for the 500th anniversary of Anabaptism on January 21, 2025. The book committee said they wanted something small and easy to read. I wasn't sure I could do it but after some thought and prayer decided to try. It turned out to be not as hard as I thought it would be. I told the story of the birth of Anabaptism by telling the stories of the five most prominent leaders in chronological order. It shows how the lives of Conrad Grebel, Felix Manz, George Blaurock, and Michael Sattler were intertwined in Switzerland and Germany. 

     Menno Simons was converted ten years later in the Netherlands after the four in Switzerland had died. The Mennonite church bears his name for he was the leader who united the scattered brethren and guided them safely through the turbulent early years of Anabaptism. His cautious, thoughtful understanding of Biblical principles led to the development of a reputable church that adhered to the founding principles laid down by the Swiss founders.

    My manuscript bounced back and forth between editors and proofreaders while an artist drew pencil drawings and another painted the cover. Finally, in June, one year after the initial request, the book was finished and sent to the printer. It is summary of the historical events suitable for ages fourteen and above. It is scheduled to be released in October and will be available through the 2025 anniversary year.  

This is the front cover

4th of July

 The older we get, the better we like it at home. We don't want to be fighting holiday traffic to get somewhere or jostling elbows in a crowd on a hot day. We like it just fine in our cool, quiet house. And so we spent this 4th of July at home and had an indoor picnic for two. This morning I thought I should have invited one of our children to join us but I did not have enough corn or hamburger buns for more people. So we had a "picnic" by ourselves. Leroy grilled burgers and I made potato salad and corn on the cob. The best eating season of the year is here!

Join Franklin Graham in this prayer for America

Lord,
We are thankful for the abundant blessings You have bestowed on America. Our forefathers looked to You as Protector, Provider, and the Promise of hope. But we have wandered far from that firm foundation. May we repent for turning our backs on Your faithfulness.
We pray that this great nation will be restored by Your forgiveness.
From bondage, You grant freedom.
Through Your own sacrifice, You offer salvation.
From the state of despair, You offer peace.
From the bounties of Heaven, You have blessed – not because of our goodness – but by Your grace.
You have given us freedom to worship You in spirit and in truth as Your holy Word instructs. May our lives honor You in word and deed. May our nation acknowledge that all good things come from the Father above.
President Abraham Lincoln proclaimed that our nation should set apart a day for national prayer to confess our sins and transgressions in sorrow, “yet with assured hope that genuine repentance will lead to mercy and pardon… announced in the Holy Scriptures and proven by all history, that those nations only are blessed whose God is the Lord.”
“We have vainly imagined in the deceitfulness of our own hearts, that all these blessings were produced by some superior wisdom and virtue of our own… we have become too self-sufficient to feel the necessity of redeeming and preserving grace, too proud to pray to the God who made us! It behooves us then… to confess our national sins and to pray for clemency and forgiveness.”
Help us to pray earnestly for our president and leaders who govern, that they will humble themselves and seek Your guidance so that everything we do will shine the light of Your glory in a darkened world.
May our prayers as a people and a nation be heard and blessed for such a time as this. We make this plea in faith, believing in the mighty name of Jesus our Lord.
Amen

Family Weekend

   Our family goes to a cabin the second weekend in June. For the past twelve years we have been going to a cabin on the Texter Mountain. This was our last year to go there because the cabin has been sold. The younger children were sad because it's the only place they ever knew. We have another cabin booked for next year but it won't have the big lawn this one has.

    We had perfect weather this weekend for all the outdoor activities. Gene built a campfire on Friday evening for us to make mountain pies for supper.

   Amy brought things for activities on Saturday afternoon. We made pine cone bird feeders

and looked through a microscope at tiny critters that live in moss and pond water.

 

The children provided some activities for themselves.

 Gerald grilled chicken for Saturday supper, which has become a tradition.

  Everybody liked the food and close fellowship at meal times.

   Sunday morning we all went to the baby dedication for our newest grandchild, Samuel Isaac Stauffer, at Green Terrace Mennonite Church.

The smallest fry seemed to enjoy his first cabin experience.

   We made a lot of memories at this cabin. The cabin will be different next year but it's the people, not the place, that makes family weekend a highlight of the year.

Outen the Light

   Years ago we bought a light switch plate with a Pennsylvania Dutch design that says "Outen the light." Last week my 12-year-old grandson asked where I got the switch plate. I told him I didn't remember and asked if he knows what it means. He didn't, so I explained that's the way PA Dutch people say "turn the light off." My family actually said "outen the light" when I was growing up.

    I went on to explain that PA Dutch sentence structure is often backwards from the way it is spoken in English. So when a Dutchman speaks in English, things might come out backwards. For instance, "throw the cow over the fence some hay."  He seemed to understand and that was the end of the discussion.

    I never learned enough PA Dutch to hold a conversation but I have a strong Dutch accent. I can understand enough to respond (in English) if someone speaks to me in Dutch. I don't say "outen the light" anymore but more of that kind of thing is still there than I realized. One day this week I caught myself saying to my husband, "get me the hedge trimmer down." Fortunately, I am married to a man whose first language was PA Dutch. He never batted an eye. When I laughed at myself, he said, "We understood each other, didn't we?" 

   That backwards sentence just came out automatically without thinking. How often do I do that without realizing it? There are a lot of terms we use when we speak English that don't make sense unless you have a good Dutch background.

   The milk is all.  (used up)

   I'm going awhile.   (on ahead)

   It's really making down.   (raining heavily)

   Redd up in here. (put the clutter away)

   Give me that once. (let me have it)

   There are also many Dutch words mixed with English. Our children grew up saying words they didn't realize were Dutch. If they did know, they understood what the words meant and when to use them.

    schmutz---grease

    brutz---cry

    catz---cat

    doppich---awkward

    kutz---vomit

    ferschitt---spilled

    gagarish---cry loudly

    unferschtendich---unbelieveable

    wutz---pig

    butz--clean off

    bubbely---baby

    ferhoodled---mixed up

    rutz naus---snot nose

    dunner---thunder or loud noise

    Pennsylvania Dutch is a colorful language. Some things just sound better in Dutch. Maybe I should go back to saying "outen the light."

Stauffer Home in Switzerland

    The Stauffer name is a very old one with an interesting history. It is an official title which dates from the middle ages and whose English equivalent is cupbearer. It stems from the Teutonic word staupa, which means to pour. The same root in the noun form is stauf, which is the word for cup. The name is formed by doubling the f and adding er, which is the normal German masculine suffix of nouns which designate the doing of anything. The Stauffer was originally the man who handled the stauf, or wine cup.
   The name Stauffer was applied to the office of cupbearer only throughout old Suabia, which is now a part of Wurtemburg, Germany, and the canton of Bern, Switzerland. This territory has the Rhine River as its western border and includes the present day cities of Mannheim, Heidelberg, and Bern. 
   The earliest Stauffer to which we can trace our lineage was born about 1495 in the area of Eggiwil, Switzerland. The first Stauffer on record in the area was an Ulrich Stauffer who was living in Rothenbach (near Eggiwil) in 1440.
  Niclaus Stauffer was born about 1495.  In 1547 he owned Luchsmatt farm near Eggiwil in the Emmental Valley of Switzerland. His wife’s name is unknown, but he had at least two sons: Ulrich Stauffer, born about 1528 and Peter Stauffer, born about 1540.

   Ulrich Stauffer lived on the Luchsmatt farm and passed it on to his son Niclaus (b, ca.1555), who passed it on to his son, Christian (b. ca. 1580).    

  Christian was a fugitive Anabaptist preacher who was a part of a great “Taufer hunt” in 1644. He was captured, along with Uli Zaugg and Uli Neuhaus. They were jailed in Thun castle, where the authorities were warned to keep these obstinate preachers out of the Emmenthal Valley. This valley was a hotbed of Anabaptist activity and their numbers grew so rapidly the authorities in Bern were greatly alarmed.

   On May 3, 1671, the magistrate of Signau received orders from Bern to seize the Anabaptists of Eggiwil and bring them to prison in Bern where they would be deported from Switzerland.  The village of Eggiwil refused to permit this, but when twelve of the wealthiest residents of the village were taken hostage to Bern until the Anabaptists agreed to leave, they decided to migrate to Germany.  They were allowed to take with them little more than the clothes on their backs. Christian Stauffer, 90 years old at the time, was one of the refugees. His second wife, Aenath Frederich, age 70, and at least 66 of his family members were among the group of 450 refugees who took up residence at Dirmstein, Germany, near the end of 1671.  By January 1, 1672 Christian had moved on to Ibersheim where he died.  His descendants lived in Germany for several generations before our ancestor, Christian Stauffer (b. 1709),  immigrated to Pennsylvania in 1732. 

   In 1997, we traveled to Europe and visited our Stauffer ancestral homes in Switzerland and Germany. When a farm changes hands in Switzerland, the name stays with the property. Luchsmatt farm is identified on Google maps, making it easy to find. I took this picture of the combination house and barn under one roof.

   This spring one of my third cousins visited the farm. He was able to talk to the residents with the help of a translator. He learned there are actually three houses on the place. A short distance beyond the main house is an older one where their parents live. Beyond that is another house where a tenant lives.

   This is the oldest house on Luchsmatt. The old man who lives in this house said when they remodeled they found a stone in the chimney with a date of 1651 carved in it. That takes us back to the "obstinate Anabaptist preacher," Christian Stauffer, who was deported in 1671 at the age of 90 and took our Stauffer line to Germany.

   This is the old man who lives in the oldest house today.

   We also visited the Stauffer home in Ibersheim, Germany, which is still owned by Stauffer descendants. They told us the part with the red roof is the oldest part of the house. They attend the Mennonite church that adjoins the property.

   It was nice to see the place where our ancestors lived in Germany, but my heart felt at home in Switzerland. Germany was a stepping stone, but I am Swiss!

Pulling Everything Together

   Yesterday we passed a church that had posted on their outdoor sign, "Mothers are the buttons that pull everything together." When I think about the multitudes of children who live in mixed up, unstable, and unchristian homes, I thank God that I was born in a stable Christian home with two parents who fulfilled their God given roles. Daddy went to work and earned the money to support the family. Mom was the homemaker and did an outstanding job of pulling everything together. 

    Mom wore many hats---cook, gardener, housecleaner, nurse, teacher, etc etc etc. She did not have a driver's license until she was forty and didn't want one. She said if she could drive she would get sent here and there for things and her job was at home. I took it for granted she would be there when I got home from school because she always was there. She was not out shopping, having coffee with friends, or some other extracurricular activity, nor did she leave us with a babysitter. 

   Mom was organized and followed a self-imposed schedule. She had daily, weekly, and annual routines. We knew which days of the week were for washing clothes, ironing (lots of ironing because almost everything was cotton), baking and cleaning. And we were taught to have our own routines---take a bath every day, brush your teeth, make your bed. "You don't have to be rich to be clean."

    Jobs were assigned at certain ages. I inherited the shoe polishing job from my older sister when she graduated to something bigger. Every Saturday I collected the entire family's Sunday shoes and brought them downstairs. I spread some newspaper on the floor and set the shoes on them. Then I opened a round tin of shoe polish, wiped a little brush through the paste and smeared it on a shoe. Then the shoe was rubbed with a soft cloth until it shone. No liquid shoe polish in those days! And on down the line until every shoe was shining. Fortunately, my brother was just two and a half years younger than me and I was glad to turn the job over to him when he reached the shoe shine boy age. 

    We spent a lot of time outdoors and on our porch. That was where we rode trikes, gave the kittens rides in our doll buggies, shelled peas, washed the dog, and who knows what. This outdoor living space collected a lot of dirt and at one point it was my job to hose off the porch and the outside of all the windows under the porch every Saturday. It must be clean in case we had company on Sunday, invited or drop in. Mom always baked a cake and made some sort of salad (potato salad, red beet eggs, etc) every Saturday so she would have something on hand if company dropped in. There often was no drop-in company so we helped her out by eating it ourselves.

    Another thing on the weekly schedule was visiting our grandparents. We drove a distance to a small church which lasted until 11:30. It would usually be one o'clock or later when we had lunch, which was often salmon soup that could be made quickly. Then we would head over to Grandpas for the afternoon. If something else was going on in the afternoon, we went to Grandpas in the evening. My father's parents both died before I was old enough to remember them so we had only one set of grandparents. There was no need to decide if we're going to Grandpas or not, we just knew if it was Sunday we would go to Grandpas.

    Because Mom didn't drive, the grocery shopping always happened after supper on a Friday evening. Mom got groceries at the Food Fair supermarket and then we went to Green Dragon for produce, meat, and cheese. It was a family activity so we all went along. In the summer Daddy would buy a big long watermelon which was our Saturday supper. (They cost 50 cents.) We didn't need anything else if we had watermelon. We sat on the porch having seed spitting contests and eating watermelon until we couldn't hold any more.

    Every day ended with family worship. We would gather around the table and sing a couple songs either from a song book or children's songs (as long as there were little ones in the family). Then we went around the table taking turns to read the verses in the daily Bible reading schedule. Next, Mom read a story and then we all took our turn to pray, from the youngest to the oldest. Family worship was omitted only if we went to a Sunday evening church service or Summer Bible School. 

   All the routines and schedules Mom followed to make the household run smoothly and pull everything together gave our life stability. We knew what to expect and what was expected of us. But family worship was the foundation on which everything was built. What the Bible said determined what was right or wrong. When the church doors were open, we were there and participating.

   Mom taught me a lot about the value of regular routines and schedules. They do help pull everything together and make life run more smoothly. But the most valuable thing she gave me was a solid foundation of faith on which everything is built. That is what gives stability to life and keeps it together.

    Mom has been enjoying life with Jesus for thirty years but I still want to say "Thank you Mom!" Happy Mother's Day in heaven!