Once Upon a Town: The Miracle of the North Platte Canteen (Revisited)

Ten minutes was all they had. Ten minutes to share a kind word and some home-cooking. Ten minutes to send off the American boys who might never come home.

So out came the sandwiches, out came the angel food cakes, on came the jukebox and on went the coffee. After all, ten minutes was all they had.

Can you picture it? The troop train clangs to a stop and young soldiers pour off. Mothers and daughters hand out plates of food as if serving their own sons and brothers. What would the hospitality and kind words mean to you if you were heading off to war? How would angel food cake taste when you knew it would be the last you would have in a long time or when you’d been eating military food? What would you do with the pen-pal address hidden in your popcorn ball?

This is the story of the North Platte Canteen. During WWII, the North Platte Canteen was a hopping place as troop trains stopped in that small Nebraska town on their way across the country. North Platte’s people saw this as an opportunity. Why not seize those ten-minute stops to encourage those American soldiers?

So the homemakers got together. Soon the husbands and children joined in to whisk egg whites with forks, serve sandwiches, form sticky popcorn balls, and chip in their pocket money. My own Grandpa Dan who grew up in Nebraska remembers that his mother sent money to support the Canteen. I’ve wondered if my Grandpa Ken who served in the Air Force during WWII ever stopped in North Platte.

A special thank-you to my Grandpa Dan and Grandma Ruth for sharing Once Upon a Town with me and for Grandpa's service in the US Navy.

A special thank-you to my Grandpa Dan and Grandma Ruth for sharing Once Upon a Town with me and for Grandpa’s service in the US Navy.

And what was the impact of those ten minutes? Well, within the pages of Once Upon a Town: The Miracle of the North Platte Canteen by journalist Bob Greene, I discovered that North Platte became famous among American soldiers, families pulled together to serve, a little boy sold his shirt to raise money, a lifelong marriage began with a popcorn-ball connection, and decades later many of those involved teared up as they shared their Canteen stories. One soldier even took his children on a post-war road trip to show them the Canteen where they found his name in the guest book. These are the true stories of sacrifice, community, hard work and love that capture life on the homefront and show how mere minutes of kindness can leave a permanent impression and change many lives.

I found myself intrigued by the fact that serving especially scrumptious homemade food out of the Canteen to the soldiers was a private idea. It wasn’t a government project. It didn’t take a bureaucratic committee. It did take a host of volunteering homemakers, farmers and country children. What a great example of charity that is “relational, local and voluntary”!

While I don’t endorse the entire book – please read with discretion/some sections are not suitable for children – particular stories are definitely worthwhile. For me, Once Upon a Town: The Miracle of the North Platte Canteen was a productive read and a challenge. Could we be as dedicated as Mr. Greene to collecting the stories of those who have gone before us but with a focus on God’s glory? Would we be willing to give of our time and resources with such gusto if given an opportunity like the women, children and men at North Platte? Could they have used those ten-minute intervals more fruitfully for Christ’s Kingdom? Are similar opportunities waiting for us today? Hmmm. Food for thought.

May you all have a very blessed Memorial Day weekend. As we take time to relax with family and friends and eat something yummy like angel food cake, may we also take time to remember and be grateful for those who paid the ultimate sacrifice and for those who sacrifice in small and big ways on a daily basis to defend liberty for us. 

What is Womanhood? A Conversation with Caddie Woodlawn

Lived by a grandmother and passed down over the years, it’s a story that beats with real life. It’s the story of a redheaded, spirited girl growing up in 1860s Wisconsin where she and her family work and play together and learn what is important to them. It’s the story of Caddie Woodlawn

This story came to life for me via the television screen and later through the pages of the Newbery-Award-winning book by Carol Ryrie Brink. The two are different in some big ways. Overall, I have to say that although the film captured my imagination and I absolutely loved the costumes, the book is, by and large, better, both worldview-wise and for learning about life in 1860s Wisconsin. But, of course, you could check out both versions for yourself! 

Main Characters (in the book):

Caddie – A red-headed explorer who loves spending time with her brothers and learns many lessons.

Tom – Caddie’s older brother, a kind heart

Warren – Caddie’s younger brother, a jolly soul

Hetty – one of Caddie’s sisters, a chatterbox reporter

Mr. Woodlawn – Caddie’s father, a hard-working Brit who loves America

Mrs. Woodlawn – Caddie’s mother, a Bostonian lady who occasionally misses city life but loves her husband more

Annabelle Gray – the Woodlawns’ Bostonian cousin

While the book is full of exciting escapades like a prairie fire and Caddie’s race to protect the Native Americans, one quiet scene stood out to me. It seeks to answer a question every girl (or parent of a girl) faces at some point: What is womanhood all about and is it something a young girl could be excited to claim?

After a particularly miserable experience, Caddie and her father talk. Within that conversation, Mr. Woodlawn shares with his daughter what he thinks womanhood is:

“It takes nerve and courage and patience, but good women have those things. They have them just as much as the men who build bridges…A woman’s work is something fine and noble to grow up to, and it is just as important as a man’s. But no man could ever do it so well…I want you to be a woman with a wise and understanding heart, healthy in body and honest in mind. Do you think you would like to be growing into that woman now?” (pg. 244-245) 1

How does Caddie answer? How would you answer? Whether we are girls or we are raising girls, I think we could agree that being “a woman with a wise and understanding heart, healthy in body and honest in mind” who also has “nerve and courage and patience” is a worthy goal. 

After you’ve read the book and/or watched the movie, perhaps you’ll be a fan of Caddie Woodlawn and her conviction-driven spunk. Do you know you can still visit her home in Wisconsin? Check out the Dunn County Historical Society website. All you will find in the park  now is the log cabin and the small white house (pictured above), but, as another redheaded heroine of children’s literature says, there’s plenty of “scope for the imagination” in that. 

[1] Carol Ryrie Brink, Caddie Woodlawn (New York: Aladdin Paperbacks, 1990), 244-245. 

A Love Story

On Valentine’s Day, 1948 a young couple celebrated their wedding. One witness remarked that “not many are privileged to see such love and total giving on the faces of two people. I will never forget it.”* Little did the bride and groom know that sixty-eight years later, their story would be known the world over. 

I first “met” the groom Nate Saint through the pages of The Fate of the Yellow Woodbee by Dave and Neta Jackson, a book my dad read to me. Later, I discovered more about Nate when an excerpt from Jungle Pilot appeared in my school reading book. I savored that story and years later tracked it down to read it again. Combine those experiences with stories from my dad about working at a mission hospital in Ecuador, and Nate was stamped on my hero list!

However, it wasn’t until this past month that I actually read all of Jungle Pilot: The Gripping Story of the Life and Witness of Nate Saint, Martyred Missionary in Ecuador by Russel T. Hitt. It lives up to the “gripping” claim and is the perfect post for this week because the story of Nate Saint is a love story. Or maybe it’s actually a loves story. Let’s look at these “loves” one at a time.

Jungle Pilot is the story of a man who loved to bring others into his corner of the world through writing. “I don’t want to be a great writer but I long to express myself…I want to share the stories that are unfolding all around me. Mine would only be attempts, to be sure, but these attempts plus helpful criticism from others may help me eventually to be able to tell stories with the flavor that can only come from an eyewitness.” (pg. 11) This love poured itself onto letters, journal entries and articles. What a mercy that it did because these words eventually formed the structure of Jungle Pilot

Early on in Jungle Pilot, we see that Nate’s story is also the story of a man who loved flying. After his first experience behind the controls with his brother Sam, “he never could get enough of airplanes,” (pg. 46). Speaking from personal experience, it is a thrill to hold a plane’s controls! Nate possessed a keen mechanical ability as well. His sister-in-law once said, “I wearied of nuts and bolts for dinner,” of the dinner table conversations they shared (pg. 52). As Nate worked his way through Army Air Corp training, it seemed that he was made to be a pilot. Then – just as he was about to start flying – his childhood nemesis osteomyelitis returned. Although he stayed in the Army, he would never fly there. “I was heartbroken,” Nate reported (pg. 66) about his shattered dream. However, he soon got back on his feet. It’s a good thing he did, too, because within a few years, Nate found himself flying as much as he could. No, he wasn’t dodging or dropping bombs with the Army, but flying with Missionary Aviation Fellowship (MAF) had plenty of dangers lurking in short runways, unexpected downdrafts and more. Thankfully, he had people around him to help him bear the load of work and worry. Of those people, a few stand out, especially his family.

Undoubtedly, Jungle Pilot is the story of a man who loved his family dearly. You’ll have to read how Nate and Marj met for yourself. (God writes the best love stories, doesn’t He?) The love evident at their wedding only grew deeper with time. Once Nate wrote to Marj about their wedding: “If I had known you before as I know you now, I would have answered the preacher with a shout instead of a quiet ‘I do’.” (pg. 183) This real-life love extended to their children as seen in Nate’s response to the news that Kathy was born. (He was in Panama at the time for medical care while Marj was in Ecuador.) “Thank God for the wonderful news in the telegram…Honey, don’t be afraid to give that little gal lots of loving. She’ll need the practice for when her daddy gets home…I can hardly wait to see our precious baby.” (pg. 139). Later, Stevie, and Phil joined the family.  Amidst all the demands of pioneer missionary work, Nate made time for talking with his little ones, sharing Bible stories and praying with them (pg. 180).

But Nate’s love extended beyond his family making his story that of a man who loved others, even the unloved. He showed love for the the missionaries in his daily service as a pilot, mechanic, handyman and friend. He loved the native Ecuadorians and the Shell Oil workers as he used his skills to help them as well. Then his love reached beyond the jungle barriers to the unknown tribes, even the “Aucas” – known as killers – who could give him nothing in return. After his death, his wife Marj wrote to their children, “For a long time you children have prayed for the Aucas…Daddy would want you to love them and thank our heavenly Father that our prayers for these Indians are being answered,” (pg. 286).

Yes, Jungle Pilot is the story of a man who loved writing, flying, his family, and even strangers. Yet there is one more love left and it’s the greatest love of all. Jungle Pilot is the story of a man who both loved God and trusted God’s love. Of one life-threatening experience, Nate wrote, “I wasn’t afraid to die…And more important, I knew that God loved me like a son. The proof of His love was His real Son who suffered in my place on a Roman cross at Calvary,” (pg. 91). If you read Jungle Pilot, I think you will agree that it was this love that fueled everything else Nate did. This was the love that compelled him to say, “May His will be done,” (pg. 66) when he realized his Army pilot life was grounded. This was the love that inspired him to have engraved on his and Marj’s wedding bands Psalm 34:3: “O magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together.” It was this love that emboldened him to serve the missionaries under hazardous conditions to help them in “giving the Word of Life” (pg. 35). Lastly, it was this love that enabled him to live out this verse: “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends,” (John 15:13, KJV) on January 8, 1956 when he gave up his life for the Aucas because “they too were men for whom Christ died.” (pg. 35)

There’s so much more I could say, so many stories I didn’t share. I hope you’ll get an opportunity to read Jungle Pilot for yourself and be able to feel like an eyewitness to Nate Saint’s story. May we all know what it is to love to do good things and to love people. Even more importantly, may we know the love that the heavenly Father has lavished on us – both on Valentine’s Day and every day – and may it be the fuel for everything else we do.  


If you would like to read Jungle Pilot, you can get both your own print copy AND audiobook version by making a donation of $10 or more to Missionary Aviation Fellowship (MAF) this month (for first-time donors).  

* Russel T. Hitt, Jungle Pilot: The Gripping Story of the Life and Witness of Nate Saint, Martyred Missionary in Ecuador, with an epilogue by Stephen F. Saint (Grand Rapids: Discovery House Publishers, 1997), 122. All quotations are taken from this book unless otherwise noted.

 

For Someone Else

 

Timeless: Thoughts on Moving Forward Well in 2016

Looming uncertainty. Unwanted pain. Doubting of truths once trusted. Struggling world economies. Promised but paling world peace.  Questions tumbling around in minds unsure where to look for answers.

Does that sound familiar? Well, I think it sounds like our time, but, interestingly enough, I’m discovering all of those statements could be said about England seventy-some years ago as it entered World War II. 

Perhaps we like to think our struggles are unique to us. Some of us might even like to feel sorry for ourselves. It seems sometimes Christians (of various backgrounds) especially like to think that the “badness” of their time is the worst it’s ever been because that might mean Jesus is going to come again soon and sweep His people into heaven – and away from pain, sorrow and loss – with Him.

While I think looking forward to the return of Christ is a wonderful (and good!) thing, for anyone who has studied history there’s a problem with thinking the timing is based on present problems: Life has been downright horrible time and again. If anyone had a right to think life couldn’t get any worse, it would be the people getting bombed in London or the people living in Germany during Hitler’s reign…and many thousands throughout the centuries before them. And did the world end? Apparently not.

The upside to there having been struggles in the past is that Christians can learn from how the Church faced those challenges. Take the religious branch of the BBC during WWII for example. They faced a question not unlike the church faces today.

How can the church meet a hurting people where they are and show that Christianity is for real life including all the pain?[1]

Enter Clive Staples Lewis or C.S. Lewis or even Jack as his friends would call him.

He was a man acquainted with pain, having lost his mother at a young age and having served in WWI. He had once been a skilled skeptic of Christianity but became one of its greatest advocates. And although he was a university professor, he managed to reach the British people via the “wireless” in a way that common people could appreciate even as they managed ration cards, hid in bomb shelters, wrestled with ideologies like nationalism and Communism and heard that their loved ones were never coming home.

But it didn’t all come easy to him.

In fact, his first attempt at speaking to a group of British soldiers on Christianity was decidedly disappointing.[2]

 However, thanks to some encouragement, he didn’t give up there. And from his labors grew a modern classic called Mere Christianity.

I haven’t finished the book C.S. Lewis & Mere Christianity: The Crisis That Created a Classic yet, but I have listened to the companion radio threatre drama C.S. at War, and I think there are several tips we can all gain from the life of C.S. Lewis. 

  1. He kept learning, even from his own failures. 
  2. He had the humility to let his radio talks be edited and revised. 
  3. He sought counsel. 
  4. He genuinely cared for people. 
  5. And it was the Lord Who made his efforts successful.

Maybe if we want to move forward well in 2016 – both looking forward to Christ’s return and living well in the meantime – we need to take some time to look backward. After all, on this earth, some things could very well be timeless.  


1 1Paul McCusker, C.S. Lewis & Mere Christianity: The Crisis That Created a Classic. Focus on the Family (Colorado Springs, 2014), pgs. 30-31.

2Ibid., pg. 105.

 

A Story for Christmas: The Candle in the Window

 Pour yourself a glass of eggnog (or a cup of hot cocoa) and imagine yourself in the Star City Hotel on a snowy Christmas Eve in Kansas. Then listen with me to a story called “The Candle in the Window”[1].

This story takes place in the Smoky – there’s no “e”, honest! – Hill area of Kansas in 1917. (You’ll remember that the world was engulfed in WWI then.) There you will meet characters like a mailman named Tod Witherspoon, a boy named Tully Gabel and a one-room school teacher named Ruth Ravenstow.  

Tod Witherspoon is what we might all wish for in a mailman – helpful, conscientious, and personable. As he says, “Well, there never was a postal regulation against bein’ human ever reached as far as my route.”[2] 

Tully Gabel is inquisitive and intuitive. His nickname “P-like” comes from “play like”, his version of pretending.

And Miss Ruth Ravenstow? Mysterious might be the right word. Not in a bad way exactly. In some ways, she’s normal. Her students love her and learn from her. The enigma of Miss Ravenstow, you see, is that she keeps to herself and never ever smiles. Beyond that, Tod Witherspoon doesn’t get to deliver a single, real letter to her.

When Tod tries to reach out to Miss Ravenstow and shares with her both his favorite childhood Christmas memory of putting a candle in the window on Christmas Eve and a candle for her own window, her response is telling: 

“What will it mean to the world the twenty-fifth of December 1917 The world was never so full of hate before. And who would see my candle if I happened to light one?” [3]

Have you ever felt like Miss Ravenstow or known someone like her? Sometimes the dark scenes of life overwhelm us so much that we may feel that any good we try to do – or even our very selves – go unnoticed.

That is when we need someone like Tod to shed a little truth into our gloomy hearts.

“Well, you can call me an old-style codger, Miss Ravenstow, but may I say that there’s One who always sees. And in a world full of hate, He came to love. He loved us so much He came as a babe and then He gave up His life for us…That’s the love I remember whenever I see a candle in the window.” [4]

Ah, yes, we are never unseen by this God of love. Depending on where you are in life, that may be the most comforting truth in the whole wide world. 

If you continue with the story, you’ll find that Miss Ravenstow does put her candle in the window and that more than the One Someone see it. But how does it all play out and why does Miss Ravenstow never smile? Now what do you think I’m going to say? That’s right…You might just have to listen to the story yourself.  No worries, you’re guaranteed a happy ending; it is a Christmas story after all!

I think the candle in the window represents love and hope. And that’s what I’m wishing and praying for you this Christmas season and New Year – love and hope! Not because life is so good – it isn’t always, is it? – but because God is good. Not because we have everything we want – we don’t always, do we? – but because God gave us His love and grace wrapped up in Baby Jesus. Not because things work out how we want – they don’t always, do they? – but because Jesus is reigning over all and yet knows and shares in the smallest details of our lives. Not because life is without tears – how can it be? – but because as we celebrate Jesus’ first coming to earth, we can also look ahead to when He will wipe away the tears from our eyes.

May the hope of Christmas and the love of Jesus glow in your hearts and reach out to those around you like a candle in the window.


1 Note: The book The Candle in the Window by Margaret Hill McCarter has been adapted into a radio theatre production of the same title by John Fornof. I have enjoyed both versions and have taken quotes from both. 

2 Margaret Hill McCarter, The Candle in the Window (Lamplighter Publishing, 2013), pg. 21.

3 Ibid., pg. 44

4 John Fornof, “The Candle in the Window (Lamplighter Radio Theatre, 2013)

When Cousin Agatha Comes Calling: Tips for Dealing with Difficult Relatives over the Holidays

When Cousin Agatha practically invites herself to the O’Dell family’s Thanksgiving, most of them welcome her. What could possibly be bad about letting a solitary old woman into your home, right?

The holidays are known for surprises. In the O’Dells case, the surprise of Cousin Agatha isn’t so sweet. 

By the end of Thanksgiving dinner, Mabel O’Dell and her family are worn out by Cousin Agatha’s demanding ways. Then she announces that she thinks she’ll stay until Christmas!

As Mabel confides in her friend Sarah Jane, she’s pretty sure that if Cousin Agatha stays, she herself will “just die,” [1] rather than live that long with this woman who wants to see everyone else working but won’t lift a finger herself.

Have you ever been in Mabel’s shoes? For all the wonderful wonders of the Christmas season, it is also sometimes a wonder that many of us have to face our most challenging relatives during this season that is heralded as a time of joy and peace.

How do you handle them without losing your mind? 

I think the story of “Cousin Agatha” by Arleta Richardson offers some helpful tips.

  1. Take one day at a time. For Mabel O’Dell, looking ahead to a whole month of Cousin Agatha is unbearable. Her mother offers some sound advice. “The Lord only sends us one day at a time…Don’t worry about more than that. When the other days arrive, you’ll probably find out you worried about all the wrong things.” She has a good point, right? If you don’t think you can stand a week with Uncle Arnold, just make it through day by day. Something else I’ve learned is that the middle of any stretch of time is almost always the hardest, whether it’s five days or a month. Once you make it through the middle, you can usually make it to the end.
  2. Don’t feel compelled to cater to their every whim or want. When Cousin Agatha complains about poor old Pep the dog coming into the house to escape the winter chill, Ma doesn’t flap her apron and make him trot out the door. She calmly explains the situation and lets Cousin Agatha grumble to herself. The tricky part is to continue both keeping your cool and standing your ground. It’s good to remember that one of the most loving two-letter words you can say to someone might very well be “no” if it’s said in a loving way.
  3. Speaking of love, why not love your unpleasant relations “to death”? While Mabel’s friend Sarah Jane suggests that she herself might consider giving Cousin Agatha a little encouragement to leave, Mabel remembers her dad’s view that “Christian love is the best solution.” Sarah Jane’s response? “All right, then…Love her to death.” Okay, so that may sound a little paradoxical, but I think it illuminates an interesting fact: Sometimes we can love people to the point that their crabby, Scrooge-ish ways just lay down and die. Of course, that’s a lot easier said than done.
  4. One thing that might help is to try to understand where they’re coming from. Of course, some people are just creepy, but othen times there are reasons beneath the ice. Maybe that grandparent who acts like an unchanged Grinch isn’t a Christian? Well, don’t expect him to act like one! What if your mother-in-law had a terrible childhood? Acknowledging in your own head how hard that could be might give you an extra ounce of compassion. Is your brother super-stressed over his job (or lack thereof)? imagine if you were in his shoes. In Mabel’s case, she thankfully gets a little help from a snowstorm.

When Cousin Agatha has to face the fact that something – the snow  that’s snowing them in – is outside of her control, it rocks her world. Mabel is then able to see a little glimmer of the inside Cousin Agatha – a lonely, insecure old woman.

Then a remarkable thing happens.

Mabel gives this female Scrooge a hug and a peck on the cheek.

What is really remarkable is Cousin Agatha’s response, “That’s the first time anyone has hugged me since I can remember. Do you really like me, Mabel?”

Ah, now we see. Cousin Agatha may not be a very nice person, but it’s not all without reason. Imagine not being able to remember the last time you got a hug! Having lived in a Latin American culture where we give hugs (and kisses on the cheek!) all the time, I think not being able to remember your last hug would be sad indeed. 

It’s a good reminder, isn’t it? Perhaps lathering on the kindness and concern – like a little kid putting frosting on a gingerbread man – could very well change the whole person into a new creation. (Frosting certainly can do astounding things to gingerbread men!)

In Cousin Agatha’s case, we aren’t given the rest of the story. That is, we don’t know whether Cousin Agatha really does change or whether she sinks back into her self-centered gloom. We don’t get to see how the O’Dells’ Christmas turns out.

That might be just as well. After all, Christians aren’t called to change people. That’s God’s business! (Insert sigh of relief, right?) We’re “just” responsible for loving them. (John 15:12)

I’m a little nervous writing this post because it seems that whenever we mere mortals try to encourage others to “do well”, God gives us opportunities to practice it ourselves. What if next week a crotchety old aunt whom I’ve never met appears on my doorstep and wants to stay until Easter? Gulp! Maybe you should pray for me extra…

Personal concerns aside, I hope these tips give you a little boost with your holiday season. And if you like the snippets of “Cousin Agatha” by Arleta Richardson, you may want to check out all the short stories collected in Treasures from Grandma’s Attic.


 

1 Unless otherwise noted, all quotes are taken from Arleta Richardson’s Treasures from Grandma (Colorado Springs: Chariot Victor Publishing, a division of Cook Communications, 1984).

Groceries & Gratitude

Over a year later, I still think of it often when I’m grocery shopping. Standing amidst long aisles packed with food items that I can just take off the shelves and pay for myself, I remember them.

Lines of mothers and children waiting to get their one loaf of bread with their ration cards.

This was not a pivotal scene in Liz Tolsma’s novel Snow on the Tulips. The story follows Cornelia, a young widow engulfed in the pains and predicaments of life during the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands near the end of WWII and focuses on her struggle for courage as the Resistance movement seeps into her life.

But this one scene stands among my strongest memories.  Like I said, it’s been over a year and I still think of it.

It has changed a little part of my life.

Perhaps it’s guilt, you ask? I mean, there certainly are starving people in the world today while I stand in that grocery store overflowing with such excess. True, I could feel guilty sometimes.

But mostly I just feel…grateful.

I feel grateful for the plenty and the opportunities to share it. I feel grateful for the ability to choose what to place on our table. I feel grateful that, of all the uncertainties in life right now, I don’t have to wonder if we’ll have bread for our next meal.

Yet, maybe someday, I will be wondering if there will be anything to eat for the next meal.

When I think of that, I’m grateful for the stories of the past because they remind me of two truths: 1) people can get by on very little and 2) God provides. Certainly, we prefer variety and plenty in our food, but when push comes to shove, one really can be sustained on bread and broth or like the pioneers on bacon and hardtack. Then the Lord provides. Sometimes He provides by multiplying the 3 fish and 5 loaves. Other times He supplies by taking starving souls to feast with Him in heaven.

This is one of the blessings of history. We can prepare to face struggles courageously if we take time to study the past. And so, I am also grateful for authors like Liz Tolsma who take time to tell the life-like (albeit fictionalized) stories of those who have gone before us through times of plenty and times of poverty and watched God provide in His own ways.

He is, after all, the God Who makes the tulips grow through the snow.

Simply Stepping Stones: What Thanksgiving Is Really About (It’s Not Just the Pilgrims)

All things considered, I think you could forget the Pilgrims and still celebrate Thanksgiving this year. 

But, no, just eating a stuffed bird or watching men chase each other with a funny-shaped ball does not count as celebrating Thanksgiving. If that’s all we do, let’s be honest, please, and call it Turkey Day or even Football Day.

(Note: I don’t actually have anything against turkeys – especially when they’re on my table – or funny-shaped balls; I just would like us to call things what they are, even holidays.)

Back to Thanksgiving. 

It’s not that the Pilgrims would be all fine and jolly with you forgetting them entirely. At least William Bradford would be concerned. And with good reason. 

He understood a particular aspect of humanity: unless you’ve gone through the suffering required to reach a goal yourself, you’re apt to not value the reward nearly as much as those who did suffer. Bradford wanted the Pilgrims’ descendants to treasure what they were given, so he wrote an account of their struggles called Of Plymouth Plantation. (It’s worth cracking the cover. I believe Grandma called it “fascinating”.)

But, as far as Thanksgiving Day itself goes, I think the Pilgrims really wouldn’t mind if we happen to talk about them less. Squanto and Samoset probably wouldn’t be bothered either.

Why? Quite simply, it’s not about them.

Yes, Thanksgiving is a good time to remember our history, but it’s still not about the Pilgrims.

Then what or who is it about?

In Bradford’s own words, this group of sojourners who became known as the Pilgrims saw themselves as potentially “but stepping stones” to something – or you could say Someone – much more important than themselves. 

“Last and not least, they cherished a great hope and inward zeal of laying good foundations or at least of making some way towards it, for the propagation and advance of the gospel of the kingdom of Christ in the remote parts of the world, even though they should be but stepping stones to others in the performance of so great a work.” [1]

Then who is Thanksgiving about?

Thanksgiving is – or is supposed to be – a day when we take time to be thankful not just to each other but really to God, the God Who sustained the Pilgrims, the God Who prepared Samoset and Squanto to help them, the God Who has been directing the stories of our lives ever before and ever since the Mayflower anchored off America’s shore, the God Who makes plants grow and created that turkey on your table. 

God really is the One the Pilgrims would want you to be thinking of and thanking this Thanksgiving, even if you forget them. After all, the Pilgrims may be simply “stepping stones”. 

“Know ye that the Lord he is God: it is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.

Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise: be thankful unto him, and bless his name.  

For the Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting; and his truth endureth to all generations.”

~Psalm 100:3-5, KJV

 

1 William Bradford, Of Plymouth Plantation: Bradford’s History of the Plymouth Settlement: 1608-1650, pg. 21.

Ivan – Stories of the Persecuted Church

In the dark, I followed the person in front of me. We even crawled through a tunnel on our hands and knees. The whole group was quiet. Then we arrived in a room lit only by a single flashlight. By that light, the leader read to us…

That was my most memorable church experience. I believe I was three years old at the time, and I still remember it all these years later. 

We were learning about the persecuted church, specifically in Russia (USSR) as I recall. That evening gave me a taste – be it ever so small – of the challenges Christians in many parts of the world have to face in order to learn more about God. It brought the real-ness of it to me, gave me a connection and settled into a special place in my heart.

Years later, I discovered a set of books written for children – I like to check out books for my younger friends, as if you haven’t noticed – that take place during the final years of the USSR. Of course, I had to read them. 

Ivan and the Moscow Circus is Book #1 in the series. There are 6 titles in all.

Ivan and the Moscow Circus is Book #1 in the series. There are 6 titles in all.

Within the Ivan series, Myrna Grant shares the escapades of Ivan, his sister Katya and the struggles they face growing up as Christians in the USSR. Whether at the circus, in school and even in America, Ivan is faced with choices of whether to do things God’s way and invite persecution or to take the easy way out. Each book is packed with suspense, including interrogations by the police and smuggling God’s Word. While the action is gripping, the realities of life for Christians in the USSR are dealt with in a way suitable for most children (I would say ages 9+). Beyond that, I think many children today will be able to empathize with Ivan and will gain a greater understanding and compassion for the persecuted church.

I wished I had read these books before my college class on the “Rise & Fall of the Soviet Union”. Frankly, stories seem so much more memorable than mere facts! Besides that, I would have had interesting pegs to hang my new knowledge on and heightened interest in the skeletal matter of Soviet history.

From both the stories and the class, I came away with a deeper understanding of Russia’s history and sociology – why it is the way it is today – but the biggest take-away for me was gratitude. Gratitude for a freedom-filled history, gratitude for family, gratitude for the opportunity to work hard to benefit myself and those I love, gratitude for the ability to speak my mind, gratitude for liberty to worship God. 

Yes, the name USSSR no longer scrawls across the continent of Asia, but persecution of the global church is still very real. Since Sunday, November 8 is an international day of prayer for the persecuted church, let’s come before Christ our Advocate (I John 2:1, ESV) on behalf of our brothers and sisters around the world. Along with our petitions, let’s also thank Him for three things:

  1. Those who have gone before us in faithfully walking through trials whether in the USSR or elsewhere around the world.
  2. The liberties we enjoy – however great or small they are.
  3. His faithfulness (Psalm 117:2, ESV).

“Continue steadfastly in prayer, being watchful in it with thanksgiving.” ~Colossians 4:2, ESV