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Eldest Daughter fussed — she wanted me to post the story that had been requested concerning Youngest Son and Old Gertrude.  This is a very old story — I think Youngest Son was about 15.

OLD GERTRUDE AND YOUNGEST SON

Now, it is no secret that Old Gertrude is not particularly attractive. She is old and stoop-shouldered, has a prominent nose, wears coke bottle glasses, has hair that is just a mess to do anything with, and has these teeth that somewhat defy description. They are protruding. And brown. And sorta’ falling out, like. They are the things you notice first about her. (If you don’t notice her breath). The fame of her looks is such that there was a time when CMW was trying to convince her youngest sister of something and Youngest Sister protested vehemently, “If that’s true, then Gertrude is beautiful!!!”

But anyone who really knows Old Gertrude knows that she thinks quite the opposite. She enjoys her looks. She’s young. Her teeth are white. Her hair is perfect. Don’t say nothin’ about her glasses. Sometimes when CMW comes in to give her a shower, she is standing in front of the mirror, stark naked, admiring the scenery, and murmuring appreciation to herself.

All of this has not been lost on adolescent Youngest Son, Lemuel. It has been a source of amusement, yes, but there has also been an element of concern over the integrity of the situation. If it isn’t true, why does she persist in believing it? CMW hasn’t really been aware of just how much this situation has been being mulled over in the young man’s mind until last week. After all, Old Gertrude has been a part of the family since Youngest Son was five weeks old, and she has always believed in her great beauty. It just isn’t a new or seldom mentioned issue. But this week, Youngest Son came up with something that set CMW back on her heels and caused her mother’s heart to do much pondering.

In the middle of a perfectly ordinary day, he said, “Mom, I’ve been thinking about Gertrude and you know how she thinks she so beautiful? Well, I’ve been thinking. Maybe she sees herself the way God sees her.”

CMW’s puzzlement must have shown on her face, because he continued. “You know, her mind is like a child, and wouldn’t it be neat if her faith was just childlike enough that when she looks at herself, she actually sees what God sees. There really is no one who has a sweeter spirit, and who has a more childlike faith than she does, and I was just thinkin’ that it would be neat if she had a faith that caused her to actually see herself like God does and that would be beautiful.”

CMW looked at this tall man-child that she loves so fiercely and who sometimes causes her great consternation. She said, “That’s a beautiful thought, Lemuel. It just might be so…” and she tucked it away in her heart to bring out when the rappin’ and the jammin’ and the tappin’ threaten to drive her to distraction.

But she has continued to think about his words this whole week. What would happen if we had enough faith the see other people the way God does? What would happen to our hearts, our relationships, our homes, our neighborhoods, our churches? And how do we develop that mindset?

One of the ways we work on it is to be reminded that things aren’t always the way they seem, and if we can take the reminders on ordinary days from unexpected sources and ask God to birth an awareness in our hearts, it can begin to happen.

CM & CMW and A Valentine’s Story

Now it came to pass that on Valentine’s Day, thirty some years ago, there was a Certain Young Man who was taking a Certain Young Woman upon a date. This was a first date for that particular seventeen year old damsel, though the Certain Young Man was on his fourth first date. (Uh-huh!!!)

CYW was not altogether sure of this CYM, having eluded his pursuit for a great many months with careful tactics that involved hiding behind the seats of cars, ducking into convenient doorways and declining proffered friendship with calculated coolness.

However, when the Heavenly Father set out to impress upon her heart the need to at least give the young man a chance, she obeyed — albeit with reservation.

On this particular Sunday in 1971, they set forth to hear the Gospel Echoes team sing at the Plain City Elementary School Auditorium. It was term break from Rosedale Bible Institute, and special permission had been given by Willard Mayer, the principal, no less, for a single date. The age of both mandated that it should have been a double, but Brother Mayer, bless his heart, was an old romantic, and he was willing to allow that since it was between terms, he would bend the rules and permit a single date (this once).

CYW  had found a new pair of shoes for this occasion, classy leather Hush Puppy heels, and she felt quite well dressed for the occasion. It had snowed over the weekend, and it was cold. CYM had a Ford Fairlane of antique origin that had a habit of stalling in the middle of intersections. It had a console in the middle that kept young people a respectable distance apart. This was not a problem, though, since both young people were very well aware of protocol. They arrived safely at the meeting place.

The program went well. (There was that one situation when the emcee called for all the men in the auditorium to reach over and take the hand of that loved one by their side. CYM looked in one direction very intently whilst CYW  looked in the other, but otherwise, it was good).

And when it was over, the crowd pressed out of the building. The parking lot had lots of glare ice, and it was quite treacherous. CYW  was finding that the soles of her new shoes were extremely slippery. Visions of crashing down in great disarray and disgrace began to float through her mind. Weighing the options carefully in her mind, she decided that it would be proper to take CYM’s arm that was so conveniently beside her. So she steadied herself with a hand lightly on his suited elbow, and they continued on their trek across the parking lot. She stole a sideways glance at CYM and was surprised to see a perplexed look on his face.

Then he spoke, “Uh, Mary Ann. Now if one of us falls, we both will!”

Well, she could take a hint. She laughed, let go of his arm, and continued her journey.  And made it to the car, unscathed.

She did ask him one morning if he was avoiding bodily injury that day or temptation. He thought that was a terribly dumb question. Of course he was worried that they both would fall.

Oh, well. Self preservation really is the strongest instinct (I guess).

And that is the Valentine Memory from Shady Acres, where CM has often steadied CMW in treacherous places (both real and imagined) and the thirty plus years have been well worth the journey.

Last week, I had a call, requesting that I post an old story about Youngest Son and Old Gertrude.  The funny thing is, Old Gertrude has been on my mind so very much over the past few weeks.

She loved Rachel with all her heart.  She loved birthdays and presents and all of us with a fierce and undying loyalty.

She had a chair by the toy box, and she would take a big old sheet of plastic canvas and she would stitch and stitch, then take it out and start over again.  

“Mom,” she would say to me, “I’m gonna’ do my latch!”

She was an incongruity of disability and ability.  She could actually crochet a chain, tie her shoes, make her bed in her better days. 
She could see my heart.
One morning, while my Sweet Mama was so desperately ill in a Baltimore hospital, I had come home for the night, and was doing the morning showers for Old Gertrude and Blind Linda.  I had been so careful not to cry in the presence of my Mama, and had tried to keep a brave front before my children.  But as I washed Old Gertrude that morning, the tears were spilling down my cheeks in copious amounts.  She reached out her wrinkled old hand and touched my face.

“Oh, Mom.  What’s wrong?”  Her faded blue eyes were intently on my face.

“I’m just sad, Gertrude.  My Mama is so sick, and I don’t know what is going to happen . . .”

She wiped a tear off my face.  “It will be okay,” she said gently.  “He’s (this was always ‘God’ to her) takin’ care of you.  It’s gonna be okay.”

I was so blessed by her concern, so touched by her love for me, so encouraged by her words.

Today, I was eating jelly beans.  (Yep, there is something wrong with me.  I love them!)  Eating Jelly Beans brought back some strong and compelling memories.  Old Gertrude didn’t like alot of candy.  Pure Hershey’s chocolate most of the time and Jelly Beans (if they were the right kind).

YELLOW ONES and BLACK ONES.

Once a year, her family would bring bring her an Easter basket, and Old Gertrude would take out the stuffed animal then go through and eat out the chocolate and the black and yellow Jelly beans.  I would come into her room and she would have chocolate smeared from ear to ear and black and yellow jelly bean remnants stuck in those horrible teeth.  And she would be as happy as she could be.  One thing that rarely happened was that the children asked to share her Easter Candy.  She would caress each piece, and examine it while she licked her fingers and separated out what she wanted.  Nope, that Easter Basket was her property.

As the years passed, she was more and more content to sit by the fire and keep warm.  When we installed our pellet stove, she was tickled pink.  She would sit in her chair and watch the flame dance and flicker.  “I’m watching television” she would sometimes say when something like this would catch her attention. 

She made us laugh, she was always in our cheering section.  She loved to sing.  Some days I think about all the things we are without since she went to Heaven, and it feels like we are poor, indeed.  But she is rich.  She loved the Lord Jesus and trusted Him to bring her safely home.

And when all was said and done, that was enough.

A couple of weeks ago, I said to Certain Man, “I went to the mailbox this morning and found pornography in there!”

He looked positively askance, and said “What in the world?  Who would have sent such a thing to us?”

I said, “It came from Papaleo, Rosen, Chelf and Pinder’s office.  It was our tax planner!”

He looked sort of bewildered and said, “Why would you call that pornography?”

“Because it is so offensive to me,” I wailed.  “I almost cannot bear to look at it!”  

. . . And, to be honest, I haven’t even broken the seal on that pornography.  But today, I delve into its offensive contents and break out the ledgers and files and try to make some order of the past year and all its many financial trials.

This is a most repulsive exercise.

This has been a most interesting week.  Lots has been accomplished, just showing me how much more needs doing.  Why do I put off the things that need doing — especially reports to the State of Delaware that are due monthly for my two handicapped ladies?  Over the past couple of years, things have increased when it comes to paper work.  I asked them last week if they wanted me to take care of my ladies, or if they wanted me to write reports.  I did not receive a satisfactory answer.

The State LOVES a paper trail.

I need to account for every penny of their money with receipts and dates and reasons for purchase.  These must be signed and dated.  (For years, they wanted Cecilia’s “signature” on the back of each of her reports, even sending them back if something wasn’t there.  I would drag a hard surfaced book to her lap, position the report on it, close her fingers around an ink pen, put it to the paper and make a scribble of some sort that would satisfy them.  I finally reneged at this senseless operation, and was granted permission to sign her name.)

I have to account for every prescription drug they are on, every OTC med they are on, and every time I give them something from their Standing Medical Orders.  I have to write down when I got the prescriptions refilled.  I have to write down how many refills are left on each one.  This doesn’t sound daunting until you figure out that Nettie is on 13 Prescription drugs and one of those is filled weekly, plus two over the counter drugs.  Cecilia is on 12 prescription drugs and three over the counter.  I figured out that, in a given month, I dispense almost 1,300 medication doses.  That is to be with NO ERRORS.  It is overwhelming!  It takes about 4 pages each to report.

I have to get a paper filled out and signed by every doctor I see with them.  As you might guess from the amounts of prescriptions, there are lots of doctors.  Family practice, Neurologists, Orthopedic specialists, surgeons, eye doctors, ear doctors, dentists, psychiatrists, gastroenterologists.  And Nettie is on a medication that dictates weekly blood work which needs documentation.

Then, there is a report that needs to go in every month concerning whether all the objectives were reached in their individual life plans.  With that, a report of all the activities they may have participated in during the months time.  And whether there are any concerns.  And whether there were any extra noteworthy achievements.  (This is all on one page, with the individual “must haves” set down in a chart with a blank spot at the bottom for the rest of the report.

My precious Cecilia.  Non Verbal.  Many behavior problems.  She hates the uncertainties of a store.  She is quite a trip.  This month, I got into trouble because the powers that be, somewhere up in the state, did an audit of her entire life account.  They wanted to haul me in for an all day in service to inform me of the proper procedures for filling out the spending money accounts.  One month, Cecilia had shingles, and Nettie had just come to live with us, and I didn’t get to the bank before the end of the month.  I pretty much didn’t go anywhere except where I had to.  So I requested permission to put some expenditures from August down on September’s account when I had withdrawn the money.  The team agreed.  They knew how intense those months were.  But it didn’t set well with the higher ups.  They also wanted “the provider to include Cecilia in a more direct way as to how her money is spent” (ha!) so they got all up in a heaval and instructed my case manager to make an appointment.  How blessed I have been with my case manager and staff nurse.  They were livid at this mandate.  They collaborated on a terse note to the perpetrators of said note and more or less informed them of the situation, that they were NOT going to make this 20+ year provider come in for an in-service and promised to “instruct provider” themselves.  There was a short note that came down the line agreeing to this “modest proposal” with instructions that “if there were any more problems, the provider needed to attend an in-service.”  I was pretty much going along without any knowledge of all this until yesterday when my case manager came out and gently informed me of what they had been through all on my account.

All I can say is that my Heavenly Father knew that I had all that I could bear over these last few months, and He tempered the wind that blew against me.  I could not be more grateful for His loving care over me and my two ladies.  I am even more grateful that His Protection came through the direct line of authority over me.  Through His grace, I had the trust of my case manager and nurse.  If they were suspicious of my motives, my actions or even uncertain about the care that Nettie and Cecilia have in our home, they would have had ample opportunity to bring me down.

Lord Jesus, once again I offer grateful praise!

Matt’s family has set up a web log through Caring Bridges to post information:

This is the link: 

www.caringbridge.org/visit/matthewwolfer

You may need to set up a visitor’s account, but that is free and relatively simple.  Once you are on the site, there is a link that says “Read Journal”  You will want to click on that to read all that has been posted.  Plus there is a guest book where you can leave messages for the family.

And my thanks to Carlene Swartzentruber for alerting me to this website!

News From Raph!!!

Hey —

We just got back from vacation. It was wonderful. We stayed in a pretty nice resort ate good food and just had a great time. .

We saw some wild rhinos and we got to swim with the elephants. we rode them down to the river and went swimming with them. it was one of the best things about the vacation.

And one morning 3 of us guys rented motorcycles and drove around Chitwon for a gouple of hours. that was also one of the highlights. But seeing wild rhinos ranks way up there

We were supposed to go to Hetauda after vacation but due to roiting and unrest we are back in Kathmandu. we might be here for ten days or we might never get to Hetauda. We don’t really know what is going to happen. So yeah thats what’s going on.

Tell everyone hi and that i’m doing good.. Talk to ya later.

This just came in on our “Yutzy Family Network” From Matt’s Dad,  Terry.

We deeply appreciate the outpouring of prayers, concern, and support for Matthew. We’re so grateful for your love for him and for us.

As a result of the car accident on Friday morning, Matthew suffered multiple skull fractures, a broken jaw, broken sternum and fractured ribs, and a chipped pelvis. The accident severely bruised his brain and lungs. He is currently sedated and on a ventilator to assist his breathing.

One day after the accident, his condition was “critical but stable.” Doctors and nurses report that his first night and second day were “uneventful,” what his trauma doctor said was “the best we could hope for at this point.” Today, he remains in basically the same condition but with an elevated fever.

It’s difficult for doctors to gauge Matthew’s responsiveness because of the sedation so they periodically reduce it. At those times, although he’s not yet responding to commands, he exhibits “purposeful movement” of the head and all four extremities. We’re very grateful for that.

Although we are more than three hours from home, some of our closest friends live nearby. One family met us at the emergency room parking lot, parked our car, stayed with us each day, and provided a place for us to sleep. They are the Ulmers, homeschool friends who lived one mile from us for 10 years before moving to NC last year. We’re planning that David will resume school work at their home tomorrow. Another family we know from Nebraska, the Peacheys, stayed with us the first night and also offered us the use of their home. That seems like a God thing.

If everything goes well, Matthew will likely have a lengthy convalescence. We’ll try to send info periodically. Please continue to pray for him, and especially for his lung and brain trauma.

Terry (for Gina)

Matt Wolfer

Many of you are aware of the accident that Matt Wolfer had yesterday.  Daniel is a first cousin of Matt’s mother, Gina Yutzy-Wolfer, and he has talked to her twice since the accident — and one of those times was this afternoon.

At this point, the best thing we can do for Matt is pray.  He is very battered.  He has much damage to his facial bones, there are skull fractures, and the rest of his body is quite broken as well.  There are broken ribs, a broken sternum and a broken pelvis.  There are several things that are of most urgent concern.  The first is that, though there was no puncture to his lungs, there are multiple lung contusions, and the danger of pneumonia is quite real.  Also, as the swelling increases, and there is great concern about his brain and the injuries there.

Last night, when they decreased his sedation, there was some response, but Gina said that it was very minimal and there has been nothing since.  She said that they will be taking him out of sedation periodically to evaluate his responses.  The doctors told her that the next three to five days are critical.

Terry and Gina have friends who live only thirty minutes away from the hospital and they have graciously offered a place for them to be.  Their younger son, David is with them. 

Please pray for this family.  What actually happened to cause the wreck is uncertain.  It was a single car accident, and it appears that Matt drifted off the roadway into some trees.   He was on his way to Rosedale Bible College and was about 3 hours from home when the accident happened.

She would have liked it.  The service she so carefully planned.  We all did our best, and I could almost see her peering over the edge of Glory saying, “You’d better get it RIGHT!”  (We tried, Dear Friend, we tried!)

I have been trying to remember how it was that we became friends.  There were so many years of laughter and suppers out and confidences shared and good, good times. 

 I remember one time while Certain Man was still a self employed plumber that we girls, Ethel and I, decided to go out for lunch together.  This was something we never did without our husbands, but we felt like doing something different for a change, so we made our plans and were amused at our husbands’ exaggeratedly aggrieved airs.  They made some mention of having a secret of their own, but these fellows often made such statements that were intended to arouse curiosity.  We settled ourselves comfortably in the restaurant of our choice on this particular day, and had just gotten our salads, when who should come down the aisle but our two men.  We were both surprised, but even more astonished when they continued past our table, on around the restaurant to a table on the other side.  (The had gotten the hostess to take them on this deliberate parade around the restaurant)   There they ate their lunch with the highest, mightiest air imaginable.  We thought maybe they came to be nice to us (NOPE!)  or to pay our lunch for us.  (They didn’t.)  We thought maybe they wanted us to come join them.  (Negatory!)  Something!!! We could hardly believe that they were miffed about us going out without them.  (They were!)  We secretly thought it was pretty funny, but I suppose you could say the guys won that one.  We never did that again.

The road was not all easy.  We didn’t always understand each other, and sometimes, understanding,  chose different ways of responding.  I am so thankful for these last few years when we could reconnect, forgive each other, learn to extend grace to each other, and there, found a friendship that was was rich and full and rewarding.

Ah, my Ethel Friend.  You were a friend that sharpened me as iron sharpens iron.  You made me think, you made me go back again and again to God’s Holy Word to see just what it REALLY said.  You were full of courage, you didn’t ever consider anything more important than TRUTH, and you were never afraid of confrontation.  I can truly say that I do not remember a time when you were cowed by what people thought.

You were strong.  You were consistent.  You were beautiful.  You loved JR and John and Brian and Evanna and Brianna and Briar with a love that sought their good, knew them intrinsically, and in the harsh, heartbreaking knowledge of your soon homegoing,  equipped them for life without you, and made incredible memories.

Today, surrounded by so many people whom you loved and who loved you, I find my heart so numb.  The busy-ness of these last few days was easier for me than the waiting of the last few weeks.  There was finally something to DO besides wait.  But in that busy-ness, I feel a numbness, a sense of the surreal.  Right now, I am so thankful that you are done with this old world and its heartache and pain and suffering and disappointment and grief and loss.  But there will be a time — No, there will be many times when I will look for that smile, when I will listen for that inimitable voice that so often said, “Yes, but, Mary Ann——-!!!!”  and I will miss the friendship of a gal whose very difference from me gave me reason to love her.

I’ll see you in The Morning!