Old Order Mennonite Memoirs

"How many sweet potato plants do you have?" The hands of my dental hygienist paused as she waited for my answer.

"Mmm... perhaps a dozen," I answered. This was on last Monday's sunny day and I'd told her I wanted to dig my sweet potatoes when I got home. A short time later, I was in my garden trying to drag away all those clingy, rooted vines so I could even get close to the potatoes. Unlike other years, this spring I hadn't even given them a raised mound of tilled soil in which to grow, but the plastic bulged with mounds of thick tuberous roots. With the vines and plastic aside, I began digging at the 12 treasure clumps without damaging the yams. The first one surprised me because it was so huge, but it was not the only one. Soon my two wheelbarrows were filled with the nutritious sweetness, the largest one nudging close to 13 pounds.

The next day's surprise was from my daughter's yard. From two old crab apple trees she and her husband had picked two pails of crab apples. After washing them and cooking them in water, we canned the pretty pink juice to make jelly on a later day. We also canned some sauce to make crab apple butter in the oven.

The third surprise of the week was a dream-come-true. On Sunday afternoon after morning worship at Piney Creek church, when four of us were biking on the Lower Trail, my husband saw the bear first. Through the fence row and across the freshly combined cornfield, I saw the black object but it wasn't until the bear looked up at us that I realized I was seeing my first black bear in the wild. It was not too close to scare me and not so far away that I needed binoculars to make sure before it lumbered up into the obscurity of the woods.

Besides awesome fall scenery and lots of squirrels, we also saw a bald eagle fly away when we stepped down to the river's edge. Granddaughter Bella, age 12 months, would have toddled right into Juniata waters but I captured her; her body with my restraining, loving arms and her innocent attention with the sight and sound of little rocks splashing when I tossed them.

Quite unplanned, also, was having my 'birthday' grandson come to us for the first time. Even though little Marquis was tired from the day's excursions, I was delighted to coax a smile from him. Unlike his four siblings and his dad, he wasn't interested in his Dawdy's cookies and milk supper after chores.

The rest of our October week was also rewarding which included sparkling windows and cleaned corners before I played with houseplants. In Saturday's sunshine I took a ride with my husband as he picked more golden corn. I cleaned up my messy garden shed in the afternoon, but in the forenoon I was happy to find a ride to take three of our grandchildren to see the fire trucks at Long's Outpost. Besides a climb onto the trucks, there were stickers, brochures, and other goodies for the children, even milk and cookies in the store.

In New Enterprise church that same forenoon more of our youth were baptized in Jesus' Name. There were seven sons: Elvin Nolt (Nelson), Glenn Zimmerman (Lester), Burnell Zimmerman (John Isaac), Ryan Horst (Marvin), Jonathan Sauder (Mahlon), Skyler Zimmerman (Wayne) and Jesse Stauffer (Eugene). There were seven daughters: Rachel Burkholder (Sidney), Tracy Zimmerman (Linus), Louise Rissler (John Aaron), Dorcas Weaver (Mervin), Andrea Martin (Steven), Angela and Mary Lou Horst (Isaac)

"Bittersweet Time," Earle J. Grant calls it, "When October days grow crisp And painted leaves clothe hills, We take our baskets and follow The mountain trails and flowing rills To where bittersweet profusely Grows along an old stone fence; It sates our hunger for beauty With its vivid orange tints. The sky above is gentian blue; Winds sweep, sharp as peppermint; Fox grapes hang in purple clusters; We feast on their spicy scent. We cut ripe sprays of bittersweet, lovely beyond all measure......"

Lovely, too, and bittersweet, the transition from childhood to responsible adults, having "put on the whole armor of God, that they may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil."

~Apostle Paul