Exred you bring out some very good points and yes what is the solution. Teaching young ones now for other jobs. I saw it in my town where young people could be trained for jobs like plumbers, electricians etc.................
I pray you have! Enough happiness to keep you sweet, Enough trials to keep you strong, Enough sorrow to keep you human, Enough hope to keep you happy, Enough failure to keep you humble, Enough Friends to give you comfort, Enough wealth to meet your needs, Enough enthusiasm to look forward, Enough faith to banish depression, Enough determination to make each day better than yesterday. Thank you, Jesus
The apostles asked Jesus how to pray as this was new to them. Jesus answered; "Pray to the Father in my name"; Therefore I always start all my prayers this way. "Father I come to you in Jesus name", So I am assured I am at the right address................jenny
Exred yes plastic, so many stores still use plastic bags and a lot of cakes and vegies are coming in plastic, did no one talk about that in the climate change?
All I am hearing and seeing how unhappy so many are about what happened in Paris Yes they all signed the "deal" but are not happy about it. Why did not one protest or did they. Yes is is all about coal...........
Wow thank you Rob that is where I live in Western Canada, so this is happening right under my nose Climate change huh, what a hypocrite Justin Trudeau is............ Don't know if Canada still does but we send Abestos to countries that are not aware of the danger
It is no secret Back in the 50's there was a well known radio host/comedian/song writer in Hollywood named Stuart Hamblen who was noted for his drinking, womanizing, partying, etc.
One of his bigger hits at the time was "I won't go hunting with you Jake, but I'll go chasing women."
One day, along came a young preacher holding a tent revival. Hamblen had him on his radio show presumably to poke fun at him.
In order to gather more material for his show, Hamblen showed up at one of the revival meetings.
Early in the service the preacher announced, "There is one man in this audience who is a big fake."
There were probably others who thought the same thing, but Hamblen was convinced that he was the one the preacher was talking about. Some would call that conviction, but he was having none of that.
Still the words continued to haunt him until a couple of nights later he showed up drunk at the preacher's hotel door around 2AM demanding that the preacher pray for him!
But the preacher refused, saying, "This is between you and God and I'm not going to get in the middle of it."
But he did invite Stuart in and they talked until about 5 AM at which point Stuart dropped to his knees and with tears, cried out to God.
But that is not the end of the story. Stuart quit drinking, quit chasing women, quit everything that was 'fun.' Soon he began to lose favor with the Hollywood crowd.
He was ultimately fired by the radio station when he refused to accept a beer company as a sponsor.
Hard times were upon him. He tried writing a couple of "Christian" songs but the only one that had much success was "This Old House", written for his friend Rosemary Clooney.
As he continued to struggle, a long time friend named John took him aside and told him, "All your troubles started when you 'got religion,' was it worth it all?" Stuart answered simply, "Yes."
Then his friend asked, "You liked your booze so much, don't you ever miss it?" And his answer was, "No."
John then said, "I don't understand how you could give it up so easily."
And Stuart's response was, "It's no big secret. All things are possible with God." To this John said, "That's a catchy phrase. You should write a song about it."
And as they say, "The rest is history."
The song Carl Stuart Hamblen wrote was "It Is No Secret."
"It is no secret what God can do. What He's done for others, He'll do for you.
With arms wide open, He'll welcome you. It is no secret, what God can do...."
By the way... the friend was John Wayne. And the young preacher who refused to pray for Stuart Hamblen? That was Billy Graham. It really is no Secret.
I like to talk, that is a big help when learning a new language.
My dad used to say that if everything was as good as my mouth, he would never worry about me. He said that I should have been a lawyer, as I could talk myself in and out of everything.
Not easy!
It was amazing to me that nobody, not to my face anyway, laughed when I told a little girl that she was a nice curl. I told a heavy lady in the store where I worked later, that her head was too big, meaning her hat.
In Dutch, some words have one meaning. In English, some words can have two meanings. I always managed to pick the wrong one. “I am carrying my new sweater today, while wearing it.
Oh look at the beautiful air tonight, instead of sky, or may I lie in your garden?” Someone answered me that I could lay in his yard, but to stay out of his garden.
The family Gregson had helped us find our own place. It was not much of a place. It had a living room that was also our kitchen. It had one bedroom, which we also used to sit on the bed, as it was better than the hard wooden chairs in the kitchen. If we needed to cook it was the hotplate or a large wooden stove. I managed to do canning on that hotplate. No shower, no bath, just a toilet, and sink to share with an old man called Charlie. Not much, but it was home to us, our first. A box of cherries, forty pounds cost one dollar. We bought two boxes. To keep them from spoiling we placed the cherries under water, they all busted. Yes it was living and learning all the time.
We had no car, so one day walking down the main street Matt saw a sign in a restaurant window. He knew enough English to be able to read what it said. He told me that it said that someone was needed to work in the kitchen. I had been introduced to another Dutch lady, so I asked her to come with me for the interview. I didn't get the job. A few weeks later, I walked by this place again, this time alone.
I recognized that same sign. I didn't know that the lady standing by the cash register was the owner.
I just walked in, pointed to the sign in the window, showed her my hands, opened and closed them, turned them around and over to show her see, they are working just fine! I must have said something in English as the lady said; "Now you speak English.” I told her that I was mad.
Mad because I didn’t get the job the first time. Now I did get the job. Lesson one, do your own talking no matter how bad it is.
So it was that the "Grote Beer", (the large bear), brought us to Halifax, pier 21, arriving on May 19th ‘58.
As often as we could, we would buy bread, butter and some luncheon meat at the little convenience stores along the way. Some people looked at us with disdain, when they saw we had put a towel over a suitcase and had our meal that way. Soon others joined us and we told each other from this day on, when something cost 10 cents in Canada, we would not change it back to Dutch money. Ten cents, was now ten cents!
This whole train was full of immigrants, some hired out as farm hands, while never having milked a cow in their lives. It was for some the only way to be admitted into the country. Others went to family. The farmers would not always be kind to their farm workers, they thought the people were just uneducated and would not mind living in a converted chicken coupe.
When the day came that the “kist” arrived, the container that held all their belongings from Holland, many farmers became jealous, and did not know what to make of these people, whom they thought came to Canada, because they had nothing.
The Dutch furniture was often better and nicer than what the farmers themselves had. The main reason the Dutch came to Canada was a shortage of homes in their own country, and not a good future to be had for their children.
Holland is so small and it does not have the possibilities a country like Canada has.
The men would be glued to the windows of the train see a car and say; “I will have something like that, as soon as possible.” You can be sure that the first pictures that found its way back to Holland, were the ones posing with the “new” car.
Everyone would wonder what was in those little black boxes they saw some people carrying. We found out later that these were lunch-boxes.
A lot of people went out of the train in Montreal, as Dutch officials came on board to tell the people, they better get of here, as there is no work further west. Your train tickets are good for one year, so there is nothing to worry about, they were told. Most left the train at this point.
We didn't.
Then it was by train further to Vernon, a town in the Okanagan fruit valley, in B.C. It took days!
My mother had a brother living in this town. I had only met this family one time. While still in Holland I now send them letters telling them that my new husband, and I would be coming to Canada soon and would my aunt tell us what too bring with us or not to be bringing.
My aunt and I exchanged a few letters.
Then came the letter that the family were very sorry but would be unable to help us once we were in Canada.
Even though my husband’s parents had left the Mormon Church, they were so worried about us they scrounged up addresses from missionaries so we would have a place to go too. They sent those addresses to us on the ship. My husband liked the Mormons and decided to try and find them.
No such luck! Mormon missionaries stay at each place for approximately six months. We went back to the station where our suitcases were being held. We were now ready to go to Vancouver. While waiting for the train, I asked my husband to ask one more person, the man who held our suitcases, if he knew Mormons. He sure did.
This man knew the president. He made a phone call, and twenty minutes later a large car arrived, and we were taken to their home. The family recently had a house built, and since my husband was a carpenter by trade, they asked the contractor to hire him and he did. Matt started the very next day! We found out later that if we had gone on to Vancouver, it would have been our biggest mistake. There was no work, and the people came to the Okanagan to find work.
Immigrating to Canada. My dad always talked about immigrating. He wanted to go to Australia, and started to take English lessons. Mom found out, that while the men worked in the bush the whole week and would not come home in the meantime, she would have to stay in the camp with the other women and children. That did it for her she was not going.
It was shortly after the war and she did not have the stamina to go it alone, even for a week at a time. Dad had no other interest than to go to Australia, so that was the end of that.
My boyfriend and his family also had plans to leave the country, but they wanted to go to the U.S.A.
They had joined the Mormon Church, for the church helped people to get to the States. They would find a house for you, pay the rent for six months, stuff it with groceries, and find you a job.
When they told the Mormons that their plans were to move to the States, they were told that the church would no longer be bringing people there and help them.
They now wanted to build up the church in Europe.
It was “good bye” to the Mormon Church now.
My boyfriend’s family had only joined the church to use them. Now my friend and I started talking about immigration.
After the war, there was a severe shortage of housing, so the government encouraged people to leave. Countries like South Africa, Canada, the United States, Australia and New Zealand were the most popular.
We succeeded in getting our visas for Canada quite unexpected, and we could leave in May. We had only four weeks to make plans. We sure were busy beavers now, things to buy at the last minute, and we had a wedding to plan too, all in a few weeks time.
We were married on May 3rd. ‘58 at city hall in Groningen.
My younger sister Marge was married before me and she too had a small wedding.
It had been the wish of my youngest sister Ina, to be a bridesmaid.
She was the youngest of us six and eight years old at the time.
With four sisters above her the possibility was there, but now two of those chances were gone.
Ina's girlfriend Ann came over just as Ina was helping mom with the dishes in the kitchen.
Ann was beside herself so excited.
"Guess what Ina, my sister Ruth is getting married and I am going to be the bridesmaid and guess what Ina, I will be walking right behind the bride and groom.“
Talk about rubbing salt in an open wound!
“Poeh”, was Ina's reply; “So what? When my mom and dad got married, I walked right in between them.” (Top that one if you can)
We were on our way to a new life in far-away Canada. I was twenty years old my new husband was twenty-two. I spoke no English, he spoke the language a little bit, some English he had picked up in the navy.
We had two hundred and fifty dollars among us, which was all we were allowed to bring into the country.
The government gave the immigrants a choice, boat or plane?
People in some stores are using the self-scan. I believe the next step is accepting the mark on their right hand or on their forehead See Revelations; 13 verse 16- 17-18- Please go next to Revelations 14- verse 9-10-11
I became a believer through the prophecies..................
Tune into God's Thoughts! Thank You, Father, that my mind is designed to pick up Your thoughts and that my heart has been created to welcome the feeling of love, Your Spirit within. Thank You, Father, that I can in this time of prayer, have the freedom to reach out and let the thoughts that are in me come out. Touch them, bless them, and ordain them to become the seeds of better living. Grace, mercy, and God's peace is with You now. Amen. Thank You, Lord, that You have called me to develop the potential and the possibility that is built into every one of Your children and that includes me. Release, O God, within me the attitude, "I can do it, with the help of God." Let it begin with me now.
Jesus Christ, I want to thank You, that You have come to be my Savior, my Lord, my Best Friend. Thank You for walking with me and talking with me.
Thank You for the joy we share as we walk in prayer. Father, whisper in my ear to give me a dream for today, a dream that makes life wonderful and eternity exciting. Amen.
In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie, In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields. BY JOHN MCCRAE
During the German occupation you were not allowed to have a radio, they were all confiscated. Mother kept hers and it was connected together with a neighbors. Someone must have turned them in for the authorities came knocking one day. They asked her first how long she had that radio. She said the first thing that came to her mind, six months. They went to the neighbor next and asked him the same question. Unbelievably he gave the very same answer. Because of that, they were let go, after the radio was taken of course.
In ‘44 food was so scarce, that mother decided to leave the city and go to her sister and her husband. They lived in the country, closer to the farmers. She loaded up a pushcart with some of our belongings, and then found a boat that would take us to my aunt’s place, some twenty kilometre's away from our city. The town was called Appingedam.
When we got to their place, we found my aunt in bed. She had contracted tuberculosis. Mom thought that she got sick by neglecting her health by using the milk to make butter, and then selling it. I still see that large jar of milk behind the stove. To see in a few day’s, blobs of butter floating on top.
We were at my aunt's house only a few weeks, when the German’s ordered everyone in the village to evacuate the town. We had no choice we were once again on the move. Where to now? We started to leave the town and walk. Soon we came to the outskirts.
Here a lot of the land was flooded, and I was petrified. I was afraid of water then and to me this looked like an ocean. Water, water, as far as I could see. I was screaming in terror. (The Dutch had blown up some of their own bridges and flooded the land, to try and stop the Germans from advancing)
My younger sister was sitting on the carrier of the bike my uncle was pushing. Mother finally couldn't stand my wailing any longer and put me on her bike. The bikes we have in Holland all have a carrier on the back of the bike. They are strong enough to hold an adult.
We came to a farm. A good farmer and his wife lived there. They allowed the sick, including my aunt, to go inside the farmhouse and the others had to go to the barn and sleep in the hay. There were quite a few of us, all making a place for ourselves as best as we could. It was not easy sleeping with all those strangers, their noises kept me awake for a long time.
The next morning several men including my uncle, helped the farmer milk his cows. We were allowed to drink the milk. As much as I love milk, I sure had to get used to drinking milk still warm from the cow. To feed the family, mother and my uncle and sometimes with others, would walk back to the village and take all the food they could carry. Then from bricks the people build fireplaces so they could cook. The only meals that I remember eating there were pancakes.
It was dangerous going back to the town, as the Germans were shooting at the Canadian soldiers that were in Holland defending the Dutch. From where we were staying on the farm, we could see that the town was burning.
But my mother went back day after day, with several other brave souls. If they found no food in one house, they would go into another. It was not thought of then as looting or stealing, but survival.
One day, mother went back to the village, with one of the men staying at the farm. She found what she had come looking for, and was ready to go back to the farm. She called out to the man, and just as he stood in the doorway, a shell hit him, instantly killing him.
Time and time again mam went back to the town, what else could she do? You had to go, if you wanted to eat and take care of your family.
Well it was all over by Easter it was found out that my boyfriend would come to Antwerp unless I came back home. It would have never worked as you can not just start to work as a carpenter because of the unions I did not point this out as I was ready to come home. Well dad had found another job for me working in the middle of Holland selling tickets on the bus First three days of going to the office to learn all about it. I had found out that there were some girls who were not yet 16 years old. I went to the office and told there, I wanted to go home. "No way the boss told me you have just gone three days for training you will go on the bus tomorrow. No way around it you are going to start tomorrow! Now I told him that I knew he had employed girls not yet 16 years old Amazingly he now remembered he had an uncle living in my town "Tell you what I will let you go for now but I will come to pick you up in a month's time! Sure you do that just for now pay the bus that will take me home..........Next
Every afternoon I was off and the lady of the house took me to the harbor. One of the largest in the world She told me to never go there by myself, of course, I went alone the very next day Everywhere I read barmaid wanted, I did sense the danger and where I ended up alone was not the same as I had been shown before. Never went back again ................
When I turned fourteen years old my dad had me tested to see what direction I should go, stay in school or go to work, what was I suitable for?
It was found that I would be good with children, what a joke!
I could never go anywhere without Greetje and Coby in tow.
Mom would give me 50 cents and tell me to go to the swimming pool.
The cashier would tell me that it would cost 50 cents a person.
I would tell her that my mother only had given me 50 cent for all three of us.
I would not move and I learned very quickly that when we did this, the cashier seeing the line-up getting longer and my determent face that said that we would not be moving that day, would often say; ‘Oh alright go in”
My dad believed that the most important thing in life for a woman was to learn how to keep house, for that is what she would be doing as soon as she would be married. If a woman had a profession before marriage, she would often give that up when she married and the babies came.
I used to clean the house for my mother. I would polish the furniture and put it in the hallway. I would wash the windows if they needed it, roll up the mat, take it outside and beat the dirt out of it with a special paddle. Wash the wood-work down, the lamps and wash the floor. Put the rug back, return the furniture to its place, make coffee and wake-up mother she would be in a great mood then. When she was getting out of bed earlier some days, she would criticize me and we would have arguments.
We were not allowed to talk at the table and this brought on a lot of nervous tension. One of us, dad said that it quite often was me, me?
I would start to laugh on purpose and soon had the others going. Or someone would get a kick under the table. Dad was not amused and would send me, upstairs to my room.
Sometimes I could take my food with me, other times I was not so lucky. Just to let my dad know, that having been sent upstairs did not bother me in the least, I would start to sing loudly, the latest top-hits, street songs, church songs, anything that I could think of. After awhile I seemed to have forgotten why I was upstairs, and I would come, still singing, down the stairs.
Dad told me years later, that he did not have the heart to send me back up-stairs again.
After I came home from work, I was in the habit to go upstairs to sing, my way off relaxing. I was not allowed to sing down-stairs in the living room, as I was told that we had enough “nightingales” in the house already.
After about an hour, I would feel a lot better.
Appearances, was very important to my mother. Perhaps because she had worked for so many rich people, did she have unrealistic ideas, at least for our family. We had a small house and there were two living rooms, one we lived in, the other one was for when we had important guest.
The trouble was; we seldom had people over that qualified to be in the “fancy parlour.” Also that room looked out over the street while the back room looked out over a factory.
What others would think of us counted heavy, we were never allowed to be first in anything so we would not be criticized.
White shoes were allowed around Easter time, if the weather was nice. We would ask mother if we were allowed to wear our white shoes, and she would ask, if we had seen others with them yet. We would lie, and assure her that half the town was wearing them.
When it became too dark to read we would ask her permission to turn on the light. She would go to the window in the front room she would look down the street if others had the lights on yet. If not, we would be out of luck.
So we would all sing songs. Mother would teach us songs that could have 24 verses.
In the good old days if something like a murder happened, it was put into song as these high crimes so seldom happened. This way these stories stayed alive. Also many people could not afford a newspaper.
There is a funny but true story. A motorcycle guy riding his bike had put his leather jacket on backwards, so he would stay warmer this way, as the wind could not get through in the front.
This fellow had an accident and the people who came out to help him said: ”Oh my, his head is turned around, oh that poor man”
Still today you can hear people say; “Why are you not going to Meppel and get your head turned around?” Meppel is the name of the town where this happened.
On our side of the street lived the working class; on the other side it was middle class. This class distinction was pointed out to us often in often not so subtle ways. Some kids were not allowed to play with us.
We were the wild street kids. Yes, we were on the street a lot because our home was too small for us all. We would often eat our sandwiches outside while playing games. If my mom said that we were not allowed to eat outdoors, we would tell her that we would not be eating at all in that case. You could call it blackmail, it was really and it worked every time.
It I had been my mother, I would have let us be hungry for a few days, I am sure we would have soon given in.
My Childhood. Even though my mother had a Christian upbringing as a child, and my dad became a Catholic when he was still single, religion was not encouraged nor talked about in our home.
Mom told me that she had been forced to go to Sunday school and had to memorize scriptures.
All her brother’s and sister’s, eleven of them, would be severely punished by their father, if they had not memorized them correctly.
My dad became a Catholic before he was married, he was working in Limburg, in the South of Holland, where most people, including his family, were all Catholic’s.
I believe that dad felt he had to join and not because he wanted to. I personally never saw him going to church, not to any church for that matter.
So the Lord did not live in our home. My dad would tell us to find our own way.
When I was in grade four, we had a new teacher. One day she told us that it was proven that when some people were buried, that they were not really dead at the time. When the coffins were opened they would find scratch marks inside. Can you believe a teacher telling this to ten year olds?
Oh my! In my mind I saw myself inside a coffin alive with a lot of dirt on top of me, and not being able to tell anyone that I was not dead. That thought would just paralyze me! When I came home I told my sister Greetje that when I died before her, to get a large knife and stick it into me many times, to make sure that I was dead. Poor girl for having been given such an assignment.
I read once that in England when someone was buried, a string was wound around their toes. It was attached to a bell above ground. If you were not really dead you could ring the bell. I sure would have liked knowing about that then!
When I had questions and that was often, I would go to my Dad. He always had the answers for me even though he would often sigh, and tell me that I could ask more questions than ten wise men could answer. I told dad that I was afraid to go to sleep, and told him what my teacher had said about being buried alive. I asked my dad: “What if I die in my sleep? Why do I have to die, I want to know why, dad, why?”
The world will keep going and I won’t be a part of it anymore. There will be new inventions and discoveries, and I won’t know about them. Why are we on this planet anyway, for what purpose? If we all have to die one day anyway, it just makes no sense at all does it, daddy?”
Well, this was the day that I finally stumped my dad. He had no answer for me. All he could say was that even the queen had to die. I knew she was very important and that even she had to die impressed me.
For a little while, this thought comforted me, but not for long, as the subject just would not let me go.
In desperation, I went to my mother and told her what was keeping me awake at night.
I didn't want to die I told her. I didn't want to be buried six feet under-ground for then it was all over for me.
"Oh", mother said to me; "Is that what is worrying you? Well when you die, you become a little star.”
Now that was better! Better than lying in a coffin that is for sure. I would be able to see everything that would happen on planet earth, I would still be a part of it all. Now I felt a lot better. I was happy with what my mother had told me, happy for a few days anyway.
I have a mind that never stops working.
I told my mom that I was worried about all the people that had already died, and the ones that still would die if there would be enough room for all those stars.
She said that only I could have come up with that one!
The sky is bright, my Father, with the morning light. Always after night there is a new day. Always after the winter there is a springtime. Always after the seed is dropped in the soil to die, new life springs forth. Always after the tough times, there comes the recovery. Always, my Father, when a penitent, contrite heart bows in repentance before you, there comes the joy of fresh pardon. And so now, my Father, I come, expecting good things to happen, for I have stepped into the circle of your love, and I find mercy and Your peace here. Strength is coming like a warm rain driven by warm winds. Healing is coming through the living Christ. Thank You, Father, Amen.
Thank you, Lord, that You have come to give us affir- mation as persons, salvation as sinners, to turn us into the potential people of being a part of this world's solu- tion, messengers of real love. Thank You, Jesus Christ, I accept You as my Savior. I accept You for all the for- giveness that I need. I embrace your holy cross, and by the sacrifice of Your precious life, I have been made clean. What can wash away my sin? Nothing but the blood of Jesus. Amen.
jennybc Blog Comments (35)
Climate change is a joke, nothing will change everyone knows the problem is China and India, COAL!
Exred you bring out some very good points and yes what is the solution. Teaching young ones now for other jobs. I saw it in my town where young people could be trained for jobs like plumbers, electricians etc.................