Old Order Mennonite Memoirs

"Just living is not enough," said the butterfly. "One must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower." When I found this little saying by Hans Christian Andersen, I was pleased. Not only are butterflies one the favorite things in my life, I agree that 'just living is not enough'.

I believe that "the joy of the Lord is our strength," as in Nehemiah. We can "rejoice in the Lord evermore, even when darts of the tempter are flying, for Satan still dreads, as he oft did of yore, our singing much more than our sighing."

Last week, the sun shone on our white snow and reflected with blinding power into our eyes. We had freedom to slide and sled or even bike on the glossy, frozen snow throughout the countryside or even skate on frozen puddles in fields. But I didn't. The only time I pulled a sled last week was to take my sewing machine next door to bind comforters.

It was also next door where I saw real flowers with lifelike butterflies. A party to celebrate a life of 30 years and comforters to knot was similar to last week's party to celebrate a life of 60 years and a quilt to stitch.

Meanwhile, my husband went with others to Lewistown to help can turkey meat for the Mennonite Central Committee. Because of the snow and sleet, it was a day later than planned.

But oblivious to our snowy, cold world, we acted like spring was on its way. Little round cole crop seeds and flat, papery lettuce seeds all in a row in soil placed evenly in a flat was part of the sunny Thursday morning I shared with some family, both older and younger than me. Tyson, age 6, and Conner, age 3, were outside riding sled on the frozen terrain of my backyard. I still can't believe how I missed out on that. I guess I was too taken up with planting seeds for a new gardening year. When the sun slipped away, we were safely indoors, cutting comforter patches again. Winter is still here.

It was cold for Rammy to trot to the youth singing along Deafy Hill Road on Saturday evening. Besides horse and buggy travel, others attending arrived by bike or van, two of the latter having come from surrounding counties. The moon shone brightly in the cold winter sky.

The morning sky on Sunday blushed with pale clouds. As I walked to the door at Piney Creek church I heard a bluebird warble in the sunshine but by noon heavy clouds hid the light of the sun.

The sunshine in my life was our youngest grandchild who, with her parents, stopped in for refueling, although Bella, at four months of age, slept through the meal of lasagna and creamed corn. After dishes I gave her chubby cheeks one last kiss before her parents took her out the door. Then I dressed for the cow stable, not a usual thing.

But with an afternoon wedding invitation and both our substitute dairymen also invited, my husband came up with an unusual plan. Fifteen minutes after 2 o'clock when our ride came, we were dressed in our finest. The cows were milked and fed.

Inside Christian Light church, it was warm and filled with friendly faces and smiles. Outside I heard the first drip drops of rain, icy cold. After the wedding ceremony of our niece Jessica Zimmerman, daughter of my brother Marcus and Lorraine Zimmerman, to Nevada Eby, son of Eldwin and Jennifer Eby, we followed each other to the reception. At Whispering Hollow Estate of Pleasantville, it was beautiful beside the creek and evergreens. The snow cover brightened our celebration feast even as dusk deepened. As darkness fell, we dined and shared conversation and laughter amidst the memories. Drops of rain kept coming down. They fell on our paths and vehicles and froze into a dangerous, glossy sheen. By the grace of God and thanks to competent drivers, we arrived home safely at half past nine.

But the solid sheet of ice to greet us at home was no excuse to shirk the duty that awaited us. We slid to the cow stable and did what needed to be done.

After all, besides sunshine and flowers, one must have freedom.