Everyone has a story. This month let’s briefly share some interesting, fun or memorable stories from our lives. Everyday there will be something different to share about. This is a great way to get to know each other, and review the story of our lives. May the Lord use this time to enrich our fellowship and remind us of the Lord’s hand in our lives.
Please post your responses for each day in the comment section below.
Enjoy!
- An early childhood memory.
- First job
- A Christmas memory.
- Your mom.
- A pet.
- An accident.
- A vacation in Canada.
- A dentist.
- An embarrassing moment.
- First big purchase.
- A sibling.
- An Easter memory.
- Your dad.
- First time flying.
- A financial crisis/challenge.
- A trip/vacation outside of Canada.
- A famous person you’ve met.
- A time being sick.
- A remarkable ‘coincidence’.
- A funny church experience.
- A birthday memory.
- A childhood friend.
- A special gift you once received.
- Your dad or mom’s job.
- An important faith moment.
- A funny family moment.
- A public performance/time on stage.
- A musical instrument.
Day 1 — Early childhood memory.
It is hard to separate between memories induced by the 8mm movies my dad took, and actual memories. I vaguely remember our first home. I remember a time (age 4-6) we received four colourful metal cups (gifts from Holland?) – red, yellow, green and orange. I grabbed the orange one, but immediately dropped it and it was dented. I quickly switched it for the green one, and my youngest brother (too young to know) got the dented orange one. I still have my dentless green one.
Early childhood memory: We lived a mile from school and I walked there. I remember at times my older brother would bike to school and pick me up along the way, sit me on the cross bar and he’d whistle as we biked along. ( I didn’t get a bike until I was 8 or 9 – no $$). Also remember picking a tulip out of someone’s garden along the way to give to my teacher! And walking on the top of snow banks the lined the sidewalks on the way home – just for the challenge 🙂
I was 3 or 4 and remember watching a mother cat carrying her kittens by the scruff of their neck and being frightened until my mother reassured me.
A serious one also, from stories. On February 1, 1953, the place where we lived was flooded. It was a storm like Katrina; 1,800 people died. My father read Psalm 93.
We are thankful for life and that we were able to come to Canada after the devastation.
I’ve seen video footage of that flood, what a devastating experience.
Day 1 Early memory
In Grade 1 just me and the teacher and a cut up catalogue.
I am searching for something that starts with the letter “K”
and not finding it. Teacher gets up flips to a page and points,
“What is that!!!” I can only think of the dutch word for it.
I figure I’m dead so quietly I say Ketel the e’s are prounonced
as long A sound. Teacher says “Thats right KETTLE”
I got to go home.
Feb 1 early childhood memory.
I might have been 3 or 4 years old (probably in 1957?) and we got our first black and white TV. I remember seeing on TV a band of Indian breaking into a logged house and scalping some family members. I was terrified and thought the image on TV were real. I could not tell what was the present reality, whether this was happening right in our house or in that TV box? This memory makes me realize and wonder how toddlers can interpret every day events in their lives??
Feb 1 – Early childhood memory: I have many good memories of my childhood in Holland. Life became more memorable when we arrived in Canada (I was 10 years old) Those first 3/4 years were taken up with a number of house moves as my Dad was searching for a job that matched his skills. Family was everything and Church was a close second. Country schools, 8 grades in one classroom, until Grade 8. Two years of High School and into the work force. I could write a book – as many of you know, Kees and I did for him. God was always very present.
My parents wanted to enrol me in the one room school down the road (not too far from where the Paynes live now). So in May of the year I was to turn 6 my parents took me to the school to meet with the teacher. She quickly understood I didn’t know a word of English – so she suggested I immediately start attending school. All the kids at the school were really helpful. My Aunt who was staying with us would walk me the 2 miles to school. I started to learn English words. One word I thought I had mastered was the word ‘out’ – so when my classmates (grades 1-6) were teaching me baseball (we were playing scrub – didn’t know what that meant back then) and it was my turn at bat – I struck out. So they told me I was ‘out’ – I remember I started crying for they were saying I’m out and I was ready to walk home as I thought they no longer wanted me! Immediately some of the older kids understood and told me no no – it means that now you have to go out into field and catch the ball there and follow the order to get back up to bat again. My first school experience was a positive one!
Father always took us all on long walks on Sunday afternoons often my friends came along. There was enough time between the ten o’clock morning Church Service and the five o’clock evening Church Service, we always looked forward to it and maybe mother too because she had the opportunity to have an uninterrupted midday snooze. In the interest of making this story not too long I will dive right in, we were walking in a meadow and all of a sudden I saw a little animal, it was dead it had little hands and I could see the little hairs around its beak trilling in the wind. It was so still I had never seen anything so ‘STILL’ before the tears were already falling out of my eyes, father came and said what is it child. I pointed to the little animal “oh a little MOL” father said, and I thought, Oh it’s a MOL. I said, Father we need to bury him we cannot leave it I need a shoebox and bury it in the garden. I can easily run home and find a box and run back. No Geesje you cannot do that, more tears were falling in the grass, not because I wanted my way, I was truly sorry for that MOL, besides we had learned at an early age not to cry if we wanted our way. My friends who had come along on our walk were embarrassed for me, they were grinning, I heard “oh that’s Geesje”. All of sudden father said we will see what I can do later. To make a long story short we came home and went to Church, after church we had our evening meal, after a little while father said I will get the little MOL mother did you find a box? Father left with the box under his arm and went to the “WHAT?” to the shed for his bike, we looked at each other in consternation, ‘his bike’ on a SUNDAY?
Father was back in a short while, we had done the dishes in the meantime. We ha lots of time for the Funeral. I had picked a spot and my older brother had dug a hole in the soil, in the meantime just muttering something about silly little girls, but I did not care.
We all looked in the box and even Albert was quiet this time. I led the service (the first female Minister) we sang a Hymn it must have taken less than 10 minutes. I felt good about this little MOL in the box. Soon my younger sister and I went to bed we slept together in double bed. We were tired, typically we talked for a long time but this time we fell asleep almost immediately.
Not until I was an adult and I thought about these events I knew what thoroughly CHRISTIAN man my father was, I always wished I had told him that.
Grace
I had made a sign it read “LITTLE MOL” we all
I am sorry it was so long.
No worries Grace, this was a beautiful story. It also says something about your heart and faith as well. Thanks for sharing!
I grew up on a dairy farm and when I was younger we would go with my dad to the barn while he did the chores. We were allowed to ride our tricycles throughout the barn so long as we did not get in my dad’s way. It was a nice way for my mom to have some quiet in the house and us to spend time with my dad while he worked. He always had FAAM peppermints and he could split one in half in the palm of his hand so we could share.
Thank you,Grace
I was two, my two brothers, 5 and 6 and they loved pirates and treasures! My Mom, a Amsterdam champion swimmer of races in the canals and the North Sea had won many Gold, Silver, Bronze medals! My brothers took a metal box, and buried the medals! The next day my Dad had men over to pave the garage and driveway? Yes! (My mother killed my brothers!) And today her treasure box may still remain buried in the garage!
Day 1
I remember one fall day when I was probably three or four and at home with my mom during the day. The leaves had all fallen on our front lawn and we had raked them into beautiful piles in the afternoon. Later that day, the big kids came home from school with all the denBaks. Seeing the big piles of leaves, all five of the denBak kids and my two siblings jumped into the leaves and started a huge leaf fight. Leaves were strewn across my newly raked lawn. I was so flustered (but not upset). I didn’t understand how jumping in the leaves could be more fun than seeing them nicely raked. I guess my type A personality started young.
I would have felt the same.
Day #2 — First job.
My first job was a paper route, starting with the Hamilton Mountain News and then the Hamilton Spectator. I can still remember Wednesdays and Saturdays as the heavy days, with all the flyers, and the TV Guide. Friday night was collecting night, $1.25 a week. I would come by and punch a hole in their card after they paid. Tips were nice (sometimes got $1.50!!!). At Christmas we inserted cards in the paper, and it paid off with big tips and sometimes gifts. Winters were not so fun, and it was hard to find replacements for summer vacation. But all in all it was a great first job. I must have liked it because I did it from grade 8-12. It didn’t pay for college, but it did give me spending money, and didn’t take too much time out of my busy social life.
1. I have two girl cousins the same age as me on one side of the family-we were the 3 musketeers 🙂 At our grandparents farm house whenever we watched tv we would all sit as close as we could because we wanted glasses (and were told sitting that close would wreck our eyes). Eventually cousin A and I would move back but cousin J would stay up close-she really REALLY wanted glasses. A few years later, who got glasses first? Me, then cousin A! Cousin J never did…:P
2. My first job was either a paper route-i took over for my brother delivering the Record 6 days a week-or it was a full time babysitting job when I was 12.
Well, this is almost as addictive as Face Book!
My first job – I also delivered the Hamilton Mountain News, although I didn’t remember that until Norm wrote about it. It paid very little, but got me and my foster brother out of the house for a while and we learned to get the job done. (same reason our kids delivered the Penny-saver, and then the Cambridge Times 🙂 )
In the last 2 years of high school I stayed after school for 2 hours each day to help the janitor clean the school. I had certain classrooms to sweep and all the girls’ bathrooms to clean. I remember one day a teacher told me the bathrooms were much cleaner after I took over! It was a small comment that meant a great deal in a job that is mostly unnoticed. In the winter months I’d end up walking home in the dark. I liked that because I could see into homes that had their curtains open.
I agree it is addictive what does that say about us Haha
We care about people…yeah thats right
Day 2 first job
I was a pinsetter(5 pin) at a bowling alley to small and slow for (10Pin).
I had to set for a kids birthday party and got a $5.00 tip cause they took so long.
MCD hamburger was.15 cents at the time so it was huge money.
Sorry pastor Norm I’ve probably started a tip war now.
At the same time I sold Christmas cards & gifts ((Jendron Greeting Card Co) to neighbours which was a nice money maker
Day 2: I attended Brantford Collegiate during Gr 9 & 10. I am not sure how I got this job but I assisted the School Librarian from 4-6 each school day with a variety of duties. I liked the job – the Librarian and I were not “kindred spirits.”
DE 0H DE 0H DE
I VAGUELY remember this story but I have heard my Mom tell it many times so I am well aware of the details.
I grew up on a very small (approximately seven acre) farm in central Nova Scotia. When I was going on three my Dad had some free range chickens that roamed the yard at will. It was my job I have been told to take some food out to the chickens (or as I called them chickees) and feed them. My Mom had a pot she put the grain in and I would take that pot out and scatter the food that she had put in the pot. That pot had the handle broken off and there was a rather sharp edge where the handle had been attached to the pot.
One day when I took the pot of grain out one of the
chickens all rushed for the food they knew I had. That rush startled me and I fell. The pot flew out of my hands and as I fell my head hit the pot right at the part where the handle had been attached. I started to bleed quite profusely and came into the kitchen holding my hand up over my right eye. My Mom tells me the blood was flowing
through my fingers and almost covering my hand as I was trying to stop the bleeding by covering the cut. I couldn’t talk very plain at that age and as I walked into the kitchen with all this blood streaming out between my fingers
I kept trying to say “Dear 0h dear 0h dear” It came out as “De 0 De 0 De”
If you look today very carefully buried under the right half of my right eyebrow you can still see the scar my fall that day marked my face with.
I’m sorry I didn’t get this posted until Day 2.
First paying job (not chores) was about 12 year old ? I pealed potatoes for a chip stand, 25 cent per 20 lbs bag. Me and my younger brother would peel 3 or 4 bags per day but thank goodness the potatoes were put in a machine to take most of the peeling off first. Eventually I graduated and was manning the chip stand on my own. Saturday night was the most busy. The chip stand was right beside the local hotel.
Day 2
My first jobs were babysitting. I remember babysitting four kids aged less than one to about six years old when I was only eleven or twelve. I was so excited to do it, but it is crazy looking back that I was left alone and in charge for a day or an evening when I was barely old enough to stay home alone myself!
Day 2:
Growing up on a farm, if you wanted dinner you had to help out. (I used that line on my kids too when they asked what they would get when the had to do a “job” at home)
Working on the farm was a family affair and as we got older we were given a monthly pay check in appreciation for the work we did.
My first real paying job as picking grounders at my Uncle’s apple orchard for 10 cents a bushel. So thrilled at a young age to make real money.
Reading Rick’s note on learning English at school.(Feb.1) The teacher asked me something, and an older boy sitting in the same bench whispered a word to me which I told out loud to the teacher. He promptly took me by ear and hauled me out of the class room. I still don’t know what I said.
I started babysitting from age 13, but my first job otherwise was working for the Koiters at the West End Bakery in downtown Guelph when I was 16. I loved everything from the striped aprons to the friendly regulars to the big, loud, shaky bread slicer.
Day #3 — A Christmas memory.
I still remember the first technology gift we received: a Sears Tele-Games Sports Console (late 70s) with pong and hockey. It attached to the TV and we would spend hours defending ourselves from that little square white ball with our white sticks. I also remember taking the bus downtown Hamilton (also late 70s) with my younger brother to surprise our family with a gift – we went to Robinsons and bought the game Mouse Trap. We just knew they would love it. One final memory, my parents would always hide one bigger family gift somewhere, and a smaller present would be under the tree, wrapped with multiple layers and with different names on each layer, and clues to where to look. That was so much fun. Hmm, none of these memories have to do with Jesus…
Maybe the part of you all showing love for each other in different ways was the Jesus moment. The one we should have and look toward.
Thanks for pointing this out Linda, good point!!!
Day 3 Christmas
Church/Worship first then coffee then open presents. When my sisters married and had kids you learned a lot of patience. Cause everbody got one present and the grown-ups would discuss. What
they thought about the present, how they’d use it then thank the anonymous person who got it for
them. Happy times then and now when you think back on them
Christmas memory:
I remember as a kid how we celebrated Christmas in our French catholic tradition.
My mother would prepare the turkey meal on Christmas eve. We went to Christmas mass at midnight. We then came home and opened the gifts. I remember some of the kids being waken up to open the gifts, sometime there was a Santa Claus. Then we ate the turkey meal around 2 a.m. ??
It was a big crowd. There was 10 kids in our family. I was the second youngest. Some of my older brothers and sisters were married and had kids of their own. They were all there. It makes me wonder where everybody slept??
I was not too sure if I imagined all that so I just called one of my older brother to confirm if this is my imagination. He confirmed this is the way it was. Not only that, my parents usually invited some other couple or the priest for the turkey meal, There was some drinking and singing. Looking back at it I find it crazy! Can you imagine the chaos and how hectic it must have been? Poor Mom!
Yet there was lots of love and happiness. What a strange way of celebrating Christmas!
I like your story Philippe, yes your poor mother, but I am sure having all her children and maybe grandchildren around must have been so nice for her. She sounds like an amazing woman, with everyone around and still inviting other people tells much about your mother.
Day 3
Every for at least the last five my friend and I get together and watch “Christmas with the Kranks” together sometime before Christmas. Every year it gets a little stupider and little more heartwarming.
As a family we didn’t acknowledge that Santa gave gifts but one year my dad came in the house with a red table cloth over his shoulders , a red hat and a bag of gifts. As kids we all looked at him and he didn’t fool anyone of us that he was Santa Claus.
Christmas 2019 we filled my sisters house with 45 people of all ages. It was absolute chaos and the best time. Oh the memory 🙂
Val you reminded me that my dad dressed up as zwarte Pete. We have a picture
of me staring up at St. Nicolas and my dad staring down at me cause I did not recognize him. If you want a hilarious take on the Dutch christmas tradition Read David Sedaris “Dress your family in Cordroy and denim” the chapter entitled “Six to Eight Black Men” I think the whole
bood is laugh out loud funny.
For 24 years we have had all the grandkids spend 2 nights at Christmas sleeping over at our house c. The open space on the floor became smaller and smaller as the kids grew bigger and bigger.Lots of laughter and bonding. Christmas 2020 was sure different!
Day #4 — Story about my mom.
I am thankful for my mom, for how she prepared me for life. She had no pretentions about being great, but was great to me in so many ways. She has been my constant encourager, and still to this day speaks helpful, hopeful words to me every Sunday.
I remember a time in high school when she spoke a very wise and discerning word to me. It was the first (and only) time I came home drunk after a dinner and party with friends on a Saturday Night. I made a lot of noise when I came home, but I pretended to be fine and pulled the wool over my parents eyes. It was a long unpleasant night, and the next morning I was too sick to go to church, explaining that the chicken dinner the night before made me sick. And that was the end of it.
That week I went out to a friends, and called out to my parents as I was leaving, “I’m going out to a friend’s house”. “Have a good time,” my dad called back, and my mom called back, “Don’t drink too much chicken.”
I’ve never forgotten that, and have never drunk too much chicken again.
Day 4 Mom
We had just arrived in Canada. Dad was not sure if we were on the right bus. My mom goes to the busdriver and says “Gaat deze bus naar Scot & Niagara straat?
He replies yes. Mom walks back proud of her english. I love her for her optimism and easy going nature and unwavering faith.
Day 4 – Mom
My mom grew up motherless as her mother died soon after she was born. She was raised by an aunt and uncle for 5 years as one of 10 children, and then moved back with her father and older sister and brother. They lived on a houseboat in Holland for many years. That must have been a shock.
I admire her for being resilient and kind. She and Dad came to Canada with my 4 siblings when she was 37. I was born several years later. I remember her taking English classes, learning to drive, and even learning to swim! She loved to sing and joined a choir to help with learning English. Within 10 years of arriving, we had foster children in our home and she was a fierce advocate for them. To me she was a living picture of grace.
She died suddenly of a heart attack soon after I had my first child. I am sad that my children did not get to know this humble, loving grandmother. Singing songs out of the Psalter Hymnal brings back strong and good memories of her.
Where is the story of my first job?
Sorry Grace, it did not come through, at least not on my end.
My mom was a short lady. She had to drop out of school in grade 2 to help with the family. She had all kinds of pains due to a hard life. She talked a lot. She kept her house very clean. It seems she was always working in the kitchen or cleaning the house. What stick to my mind most is her hospitality (Dad too). Three of my older sisters who live only an hour away would come over to stay almost every other weekend with their husbands and kids. The husbands would go fishing or hunting during the day. Mom cooked the supper with my sisters. There was always lots of people. They would play cards in the evening. Before bed mom would make another snack meal (coffee, toast, tomatoes etc…) Weekdays it was routine to have 3 full meals every day. Many Sundays the itinerant priest would invite himself for lunch after the mass. I now wonder how could they afford to feed so many people?
I remember mother for her laughter. When I was about 3 or 4 years old I was desperate to go to the swimming pool, mother had promised we would go that afternoon. I was in a miserable mood, sitting/hanging on my chair with my thumb in my mouth, watching mother clearing the dishes of our midday lunch table. I asked “when are we going to the SWIMMINGPOOL” Mother replied “Soon” I replied “but soon is just not soo….oon “, mother burst out laughing , when she was in the kitchen I could still hear her laughter. All of a sudden I could wait until she was done.
Day 4 – My Mom
As a teenager my Mother was already quite hard of hearing. At the age of 16 she found it too difficult to hear everything in the mission society that she was a part of. Finally, she in disappointment, resigned. I learned later that Mom had a dream that she wanted to be a missionary – but she put that aside when she like her brother had inherited hearing loss from her Father. Later, when I told my Mother that I would be going to Bangladesh, after graduation from University, with CRWRC (World Renew now) – my Mother began to cry – but it wasn’t that she was unhappy that I would be going away – no she was so happy because she said, God didn’t allow me to become a missionary – but now my son is! I knew then and there my Mother would be faithfully praying for us – and she was one of the best and most regular writers (snail mail before there was anything like the internet).
Growing up my Mom was home on the farm keeping life running smoothly for our family of 7. Every day when we came off the bus from school, my mom always had tea and cookies ready for us. If she wasn’t home then there was always a note on the counter letting us know where she was and when she was coming home. If there was no note, oh boy where we worried.
Mom provided security , consistency and love in our home. I am so thankful for her example in my life. And the consistency continues, most nights as I get ready for bed, my mom messages me a good night and sleep well.