Age Two

 

“I am not an isolated, chronological numerical statistic. I am sixty-one, and I am also four, and twelve, and fifteen, and twenty-three, and thirty-one and forty-five and … and… and… If we lose any part of ourselves, we are thereby diminished. If I cannot be thirteen and sixty-one simultaneously, part of me has been taken away.” Madeleine L’Engle

 In an effort to discover who I was and connect the different periods that make me who I am, I compiled, from my parents’ letters, the many anecdotes about my two-year-old self.

Rita just came up the stairs to the study saying “Mama here comes me,” Often she thanks Jesus for the food at meal time and when she’s done she’ll say “Oh, I forgot to pray Grandma & Grandpa.” (5.04.46)

Rita surely is interesting. She just loves to pray. Several times after we have put her to bed we will find her on her knees in bed and when she sees us she will say she is praying for Jesus to bess the mish’aries. (5.13.46)

Rita is the limit! Happy as a lark all the time. Often she gets the first aid kit that looks like a little suitcase and her dolly and goes to the door saying that she is going to see “Grandma and Grandma.”

 Saturday [May 18, 1946] is Rita’s birthday, wrote Mother, and her daddy is making her a little table out of the wood we got our stove in. The top of the table will be a blackboard on one side and plain on the other. Dowdys have a blackboard and she is at it all the time when she’s over there.

So, added Dad, we thought that if we made a table with the underside of the lid painted with slating paint, she would have both in one. She will be able to set the lid on edge on the table when she wants to write. It was an ambitious project. After a day and a half really two days . . ., still I am not done, he wrote. Too bad she couldn’t have them for her birthday, but I’m sure she’ll enjoy them just as much later. (5.18.46)

I was thrilled with the birthday cards that arrived in the mail, especially the ones from my grandparents, and carried them around everywhere, even to the market. My parents were especially impressed with the poem Grandma Hoyt wrote. I was likely uninterested at the time, but now, how I wish it had survived the years among these old letters.

Kathryn is downstairs now making a birthday cake for Rita. Tomorrow we are going to eat with the Dowdys as a celebration for Rita’s birthday. They are going to kill one of two of their chickens. They keep chickens right now because the boys need something to do, but they are going to get rid of them soon. By the way, it’s almost impossible to get eggs here now. I never knew of a time in the U.S. that one couldn’t get eggs anywhere. I asked why it’s impossible to get them and they say the chickens are not “putting”.

Although my parents described me as happy as a lark all the time, I was clearly exhibiting the stubbornness of "the terrible twos".

At times Rita is a joy and other times she is a pest. When she wants something, she will stand and call for it with ever increasing volume until we get it for her. She has no patience whatsoever. She continues to wet her pants and even make other deposits in them too. The fact is, she never tells us when she wants to go. She is as stubborn as her Mother and Dad put together. Outside of these things, she is the best child in the world. (7.31.46)

She still doesn’t tell us when she wants to go to the toilet. Two years old seems pretty old to still be doing that.

We asked her several days ago if she had to go to the Toitie”. She replied, “No, Rita smell good.” Kathryn spanked her the other day and she came running to me and said, “Daddy, Mamma throw Rita around.” (7.09.46)

She has a determination equal to her father’s and mother’s put together. Surely hope she learns to obey soon. Of course, sometimes she is as nice as any of them, but other times she is just as bad as she was nice. (8.29.46)

I have concluded that the inspiration for the well-known poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (19^th century poet) came from a two-year-old!

There was a little girl,

Who had a little curl,

Right in the middle of her forehead.

When she was good,

She was very good indeed,

But when she was bad she was horrid.

We’re having our troubles with Rita already about saying things which aren’t very nice. She likes to tell us to “shut up”. Of course, she gets that from the Dowdy boys. I imagine it’s almost more than one could expect for boys not to use it once in a while. (5.27.46)

Rita is always surprising us with new words. We don’t like it, however, when she surprises us with ones such as “heavens and gods”. She gets these from Roger Dowdy who really doesn’t realize the wrongness of saying them either. (6.22.46)

Today I went out in the patio to see about Rita and there she was with all her clothes off but one shoe and sock. We quick took a picture then afterwards when she did it two more times we had to really paddle her good and hard. Fortunately it was warm outside otherwise she might have gotten a cold. The only thing I can think of that might have possessed her to do it was that she had on a dress that buttons down the front and it was probably fun to unbutton them. (8.09.46)

Rita is playing nearby with Kathryn’s button box. I imagine that brings back memories. Every once in a while she runs to Kathryn and tells her “Here’s another one Mamma.” She has noticed one of another kind. She plays more each day with her blocks. First she surprised us by being able to fit them back again into the wagon. Then today she built a tall tower. She is very interesting and yet very trying.

Just saw Rita get a little irritated with her blocks and I told her to put them in the wagon. She said, “No, you study.” We have lots of difficulties teaching her not to say no to us. We haven’t succeeded yet. (9.05.46)

Kathryn and I sure get a kick out of listening to Rita talk with the hired girl. She just jabbers on in meaningless sounds and enjoys every bit of it. (9.19.46)

The other evening we were getting Rita ready to go to the evening service and out of the silence, she spoke up and said, “And the Lord spake unto Moses”. We certainly had to laugh. We didn’t think she was getting anything out of our devotions in the mornings from the Pentateuch, but apparently she had. She also says the word tabernacle once in a while around the house. (7.23.46)

Rita is on my lap reading your letter. I just now asked her what “Grandpa and Grandma” wrote and she says, “They say, hello.” (10.03.46)

Mother’s response to her parents’ question, “What can we get you for Christmas?”: Books for Rita, the colored classics. She takes them to bed, to church and everywhere. Already she has 6 but they are practically worn out now.

Rita is growing in every way. She seems to grow in her stubbornness more than any of the other things. We must be rather hard on her at times. She’s just as mischievous as she looks in her pictures and plenty hard to manage. (11.09.46)

In these many anecdotes, I try to recognize characteristics that are constant, that make me who I am today. I had a happy disposition (unless I didn't get my way). I liked words, picked up language easily, and enjoyed books (when I wasn't tearing them up!). I was good at puzzle-type activities, as in arranging the blocks; and recognized patterns readily, as with the buttons. God’s Word was a constant presence, and I was picking up a missionary spirit. 

Hopefully since then, the negative behaviors have been redirected into purposeful determination and action.

Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.

15 

My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth.

16 

Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them. Psalm 139:14-16 ESV 

 And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ. Philippians 1:6

The First Year

  

Following the trials of travel, relocating and setting up a new home, came a period of adjustment. Some of the experiences were amusing; others were frustrating; still others enlightening. Regardless of how they felt, my parents established a routine, overcame the difficulties of a new environment, shared their beliefs and lived out their commitments.

The ups and downs of settling in are clearly illustrated by the saga of “the lost box.” Nowadays, it is fairly common to lose a piece of luggage during international travels. Most often the item is delivered or can be picked up a day or two later. However, in 1946, in faraway Argentina, several months passed before they knew the whereabouts of the missing luggage.

Dad had shipped the crate to New York with ample time for it to arrive before the departure of our ship, the José Menéndez. When it didn’t arrive, he said, I had the Express company send a tracer after it. I inquired about the tracer twice. When it did not finally come, I left the receipt with Hill Maconaghy [missionary colleague on furlough] and he inquired about it.[1] 

A couple months after our arrival in La Carlota, Mother wrote: The box never came yet and if it does it won’t be until the Maconaghys come in May or June. We left the paper with him at the dock and he’s going to see about it. I do hope it is found though, because there are some things in it that I want badly such as handles for our cabinets, Rita’s highchair, her Panda, little red wagon, dress material, Sam’s tools, etc.[2]

Dad’s list of the contents of the box reflect somewhat different values and priorities: It contained 20 theological books, about ten of which I was intending to study during my first term on the field. One book was a Hebrew lexicon given to me by Herman [Dad’s older brother] and prized highly by me. It [the box] contained some tools which weren’t exactly inexpensive . . . some of Rita’s toys and quite a few pieces of dress material for Kathryn as well as Rita. It also had in it a high chair which I had spent a good many hours making for Rita just before we came.

 A month later, in May, my parents experienced a good-news/bad-news evening, my father noted: Our hearts were made happy then sad tonight as we were sitting at the supper table. One never knows when he will receive mail here in Argentina. At 6:30 p.m. we received three letters. We were happy to get them, but when we came to what Pop had to say about the box which we were forced to leave behind, then we sorta sank in our chairs. He received notice that it would be sold soon because no deposit had been paid on it yet. We’ve done everything in our power to locate it and to get it taken care of but we never so much as found out where it was. It seems such a shame that we’ve had all this trouble about it because I sent it two weeks before the ship pulled out . . . After all this and then they would sell it out from us. We feel like crying, but the Lord knows all about it. I’m going to write a detailed letter to the Express Co. trying to explain all the details so that if we don’t get the box, we may get the $150.00 declared value.[3]

In June, the box was located and Mother wrote to her parents, I just want to have a chat with you about “that box”. Every time I mention “that box” to the missionaries down here, they laugh and I suppose you do too anymore. Just received a letter from Hill Maconaghy. I quote, “I think the meanderings of that box are about finished. At any rate it is down the cellar here in Philadelphia. We were away for a couple of days . . . When I returned Wednesday night the folks told me that your box had been delivered to me by Railway Express. It appears to be in good condition with the exception of one corner where it looks as if they had tried to open it to identify the contents.”[4]

Then in July Dad wrote again, Our Box came with the Maconaghys. It is now in Río Cuarto. Sorry they did not think to have it shipped to La Carlota, for the R.R. to Río Cuarto passes right through here. We will probably have it brought over here next week or the end of this week by truck.[5]

Margarita, Rita and red wagon full of blocks

At last, we got our box and everything was in good shape, wrote Mother in August. Rita’s had the time of her life with all her toys again. Today she went to bed with Panda, Dinah, and another baby doll. She wanted the dog Fae gave her but there just wasn’t room for any more. The red wagon of blocks gets emptied all over the house. She calls Grandma and Grandpa faithfully on the telephone.[6]

A week later Dad wrote: The first thing we did after we got our box opened was to put the handles on our kitchen cabinets. I next began to use the screw driver and square which were in the box. Soon I found use for the glue in putting Rita’s high chair together. Kathryn, of course, lost no time in using some of the cloth materials which she found there.[7]

Despite the challenges of daily life in a foreign country, my parents did not allow anything to slow them down. This is how Dad summarized their routine: We continue in the same round of events—study Spanish and Bible, attend services, lead singing, preach and teach Sunday School classes once in awhile . . . work in the shop.[8] Study, serve, shop work—in that order.

In April, after two months in Argentina, with only three official languages lessons, Dad described their struggle: It seems that Spanish comes so slowly for us. We know the words. We can understand, but it’s so hard to talk.[9]

Lynn and Lois Schrock, young missionaries in Río Cuarto, complained of similar language difficulties: We are still in the midst of language study. To us it seems to be going “regular”[so-so], as they would say down here. The Schrocks had been in the country longer, had more opportunities to practice in the city, and were already teaching Sunday School classes regularly. Even so, they envied my childlike language-acquisition ability. The Hoyts tell us of how little Rita has picked up words and uses them as though they were English. It makes us wish we had started twenty or more years ago when we would not have realized that we were in the midst of a new language but would have just started to speak it.[10]

Dad told of a time when the lack of language skills and knowledge of the culture aggravated an embarrassing situation. Our light bill came yesterday and it is 10 pesos and 37 cents or about $2.75 in U.S. money. We are not sure yet if that is for one month or more. It was rather embarrassing. They come to your door with the bill and expect you to pay on the spot. It so happened that the cash from our checks hadn’t come to us yet so we didn’t have the money. I had a rather hard time telling him why I couldn’t pay, but I finally got it across to him.[11]

It took a couple months to resolve the check-cashing situation. Meanwhile, Dad was mortified. We owe everybody and his brother and that gets me worse than anything I know.[12]

Then, finally some relief, the first day of July, we got our cash for June. That’s how difficult it is to get those checks cashed. Kathryn and I had a great time going around paying up our bills. We owed Dowdy’s 30 pesos, the grocer 18, 26 for fire wood, 187 tithe, etc. We are now free again and are hoping that we shall not have many more of these experiences.[13]

From the very start, Dad and Mother were immersed in the work of the mission. A mere week and a half after the move into their first home in La Carlota, they were back in the city of Río Cuarto, at the mission headquarters for the annual church conference. They helped with the necessary preparation, such as pitching the large tents for eating and sleeping accommodations, and other odd jobs. Even this soon after their arrival, both my parents participated in the program. Mother delivered a message for the women through an interpreter. Dad had a scripture reading and special music, as well as all the decision-making meetings with mission co-workers. All of these activities in addition to helping out as much as possible with the regular commitments in La Carlota and a couple other small towns nearby.

In June, four months after our arrival, Dad wrote, I made my debut last Thursday night. I gave a Bible study . . .  I didn’t have much trouble although one feels strange reading a sermon after having preached the other way. . . Another strange feeling is that of wondering if your hearers understand your words. However, I’ve felt that way speaking in English sometimes.[14]

Not long after, my parents’ participation in the services increased. From now on I will preach or read every other Sunday night. We’re certainly far from talking this language with ease. I don’t know whether we’ll ever get there. Kathryn is to speak to the women next month.

My father talked about his study routine and I was surprised to learn that it included graduate work. I’ve been doing some work toward my master’s degree. Have to do my studying in the morning because there are so many other things to do in the afternoon and in the evening I tend to fall asleep. Of course, we do not have a siesta during the winter. Perhaps when we start taking a siesta again, I won’t be so sleepy in the evenings.[15]

Winter set in and it was difficult to heat the whole house, especially the upstairs study. We brought the desk downstairs this week near the stove. It’s much more comfortable there. It hovers right around freezing most of the time now. We hate to go to bed at night and get up in the morning. We can get our one room quite comfortable except right near the floor. Of course, with just a curtain over the door, there is a constant draft.[16]

Strangely enough, even then, mosquitoes were a problem. Dad explained why.  I think they come from our neighbor’s patio which is worse than a barnyard. It generally has water in it and they have ducks, chickens and dogs. The odor is something terrific and methinks the water makes a wonderful place for the breeding of mosquitoes. In fact, if we want to be sure of a good night’s sleep, we must light a spiral which glows slowly all night.[17] So, from early age I slept with an espiral by my bed. The fragrance those mosquito repellent coils give off remains a favorite of mine to this day.

We suffered a few illnesses that season. Mother found a wonderful remedy for colds. I had the start of another cold but checked it one day with the favorite remedy – eucalyptus, only in different form. There are a lot of trees around so Margarita brought me the leaves and I boiled them in water, when it was still real hot I took a towel and put it around my head & the pan, then breathed the vapor deeply.[18]

Rita has conjunctivitis. . . that is just the pink eye, they wrote. It is quite bothersome . . . We are using boric acid and something we bought in the drug store here, Dr. prescription.[19]

Later, in the spring, another plague appeared in our own back yard. Several weeks ago after a rain we noticed that our patio was just covered with snails. We had known that we had snails, but we didn’t realize that they were as the sand of the sea. They are this oblong type of snail which one sees in the water, but they have a round shell. I called them wood snails when I saw that at home. We began asking our hired girl if there was some powder or liquid which we could buy to kill them. She didn’t know about that, but she thought she could get someone to gather them. In the afternoon a little boy came to gather them and was he ever tickled. He must have gotten about two or three quarts of them. Those slimy, squashy animals were just wallowing all over each other. I asked him what he was going to do with them. “Voy a comerlos”. What, you’re going to eat those things? ”Sí, son riquísimos”[they’re delicious] He was perfectly welcome to them. They serve them as a delicacy in the better hotels here.  I later learned that the owner of the house had brought those snails here to multiply for himself.[20]

We may have been ignorant of escargot as a delicacy; however, our diet was in no way deficient. We’ve certainly been having some wonderful meals, wrote Dad. Kathryn has been trying her new stove by making lots of desserts. She baked some swell cakes and pies. I hope she doesn’t stop. We had boiled ham again this week. Nice, fresh, crisp lettuce seemed to be plentiful and we were able to purchase bananas. We’ve eaten nicer here than we ever ate in our own home in Winona Lake.[21]

In addition my mother grew a small garden. We had our first bit of lettuce yesterday from the deer tongue seed you gave me, she wrote to her parents in June. It’s doing very nicely.[22]

My parents enjoyed the creative opportunities that family life offers. Mother sewed and knitted. She made all my clothes, and her own. Also in June, Dad wrote, Kathryn is making a long sleeved dress for Rita out of a corduroy dress which was given to her. It is going to be nice.[23]  Mother was anticipating the cooler weather to come. Then in September, with the approach of spring, she wrote, Last week I made a green seersucker dress for myself and this week a brown flowered with white collar and cuffs. The green material I brought from home and the brown was a piece that Mrs. Endecott gave me. Rita still has a nice supply of dresses as you will remember I spent a lot of time sewing up everything.[24]

Mother had a good eye for decorating. She mentioned that some said their kitchen looked like ones featured in the magazines, then commented, It’s not quite that but it is nicer than most have and it didn’t cost as much.[25]

 Dad built most of our furnishings and all my toys. For much of that first year, Dad borrowed Brother Dowdy’s tools. It is nearly impossible for me to imagine Dad without access to a workshop. One amusing little anecdote reveals that sometimes Daddy let me come along! Rita certainly brings lots of laughs for us. Yesterday we were walking along hand in hand to the carpenter shop. She said, “Let’s run, Daddy”. So we ran for quite a little ways. Then she looked up at me very sternly and demanded, “Let me walk”. Of course, I said that would be all right. Then she began to laugh and said, “I did it. Rita did it”. I said, “Rita did what?” She answered, “Rita told Daddy”.[26]

In addition to the comic relief I provided, working with his hands was a welcome break from study and all the other stresses. Dad was very intent on accomplishing as much as possible. I am on the job getting some few items made for the house before the time comes when I will not have sufficient time. I am finishing a cabinet for the mimeograph, then I want to make a four drawer file. I’m trying to do a good job on these. I will copy my file after Brother Dowdy’s. You should see it. It is a masterpiece in workmanship. I will probably make the major part of it from cedar wood. It is a bit different from the cedar we see in the States. I also want to make a sewing machine stand for Kathryn’s machine and a case and tripod for Kathryn’s flannel graph board.[27]

Time for settling in was running out and they would soon be left in charge of the mission in La Carlota after a mere ten months. The realization of the awesome responsibility was sinking in. It scares me to think of the burden which shall fall on us about the first of December. Things are all going to pile up about then. I’m struggling as much as possible to get some of the things done now which I shall not have time for later. Yesterday and today I have been working on a screen door for the back door. One can’t buy such a thing here. Scarcely anyone uses them here so if you want one you must make it yourself. The door is such a tall one I have had to take great care to get the thing strong enough. When we first moved here, not knowing how long we would remain, I just tacked some mosquito netting over the windows and we did without a screen door. Now that we are going to remain, we are making something more permanent. If I had just had my power saw, it would have taken me half the time or less. Motors are so costly here that I am just going to wait till my ship comes in before I get one for the saw.[28]

The things which lie ahead in the near future look almost insurmountable, but the Lord is able to bring us through.[29]

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths (Proverbs 3:5-6).”

 

---

[1] 5/13/1946

[2] 4/20/1946

[3] 5/13/1946

[4] 6/15/1946

[5] 7/31/1946

[6] 8/09/1946

[7] 8/15/1946

[8] 10/19/1946

[9] 4/20/1946

[10] 5/24/1946 Schrock letter

[11] 4/27/1946

[12] 6/22/1946

[13] 7/01/1946

[14] 6/15/1946

[15] 9/19/1946

[16] 6/22/1946

[17] 6/22/1946

[18] 9/20/1946

[19] 9/27/1946

[20] 10/12/1946

[21] 4/20/1946

[22] 6/15/1946

[23] 6/22/1946

[24] 9/20/1946

[25] 9/20/1946

[26] 7/09/1946

[27] 7/31/1946

[28] 9/27/1946

[29] 8/15/1946

Setting Up Housekeeping

 

While I happily explored my new home, my parents, with very limited language skills, busied themselves with the challenges of housekeeping in a new country.

Up to the present time, wrote Dad after the first month, we have done nothing much more than seek a house and try to settle. It certainly takes time to get straightened around so one can live decently.

Even having a mattress made was an ordeal. They had to buy raw wool, have a lady wash it then dry it thoroughly and . . . get the “colchonero” [mattress maker] to make the mattress. What a job and what a smell! The wool [was] filthy, greasy, filled with manure and everything else. They say the wool loses one third its weight by washing. You can buy mattresses all made up but then they usually have dirty wool in them and when it gets hot they smell like a barnyard.

Besides the mattress issue, Mother added, I have no stove or washer yet. . .both are ordered but haven’t come. We’ll have to pay about $175. It kinda made me disgusted to read that [my brother] Harlan paid $49 for his washer. I can still see a nice stove in Montgomery Ward’s that I wish I had brought but I didn’t. The worst part of it is that Rita has gotten such an appetite since we’ve been settled in this house, and since her stomach and eye teeth[1] are through, that I just can’t get food ready fast enough for her. She’ll climb up in the high chair that we borrowed from Dowdy’s and keep saying “I want to eat.” A lot of the time I have to get her something quick if I want any rest for my nerves.

For my parents, furniture and appliances were expensive. However, Mother found consolation in that food was quite cheap. For 2 lbs. of boneless beef we pay less than 25 cents, she wrote. For about 19 cents I got 2 lbs. of leg of lamb today. For 3 liters of milk we pay 10 cents (equals about 3 ½ quarts). At that time in the States a gallon of milk cost 70 cents.

In a later letter Dad wrote: We bought apples the other day (100 for 37 cents) and canned 14 quarts. Several weeks ago we canned some lovely pears and got 14 quarts. We did what has been done under great difficulty for all we had was this one burner, a “calentador”.

Food was very reasonably priced, but there was the problem of refrigeration. Dad wrote: we had a man to bring us ice for our icebox but now there are not enough people buying it to warrant him staying on the job anymore so that means we must go after our ice. It is quite a problem with me for I have nothing with which to carry it, not even a wagon. In a later letter he tells of taking me to the market and carrying the ice on the back of the stroller.

To solve this problem, my parents wanted to buy a kerosene operated refrigerator, but they cost between 600 - 800 pesos [170 US$]. At one point, wrote Dad: Brother Dowdy and I are thinking of looking into making an automatic one. If we knew the chemical with which they work, we think we would do it.

Both were great handymen, do-it-yourselfers. Dad spent much of his time in Brother Dowdy’s workshop. He explained, I just felt we had to get settled before we could do much of anything. I have now made two kitchen cabinets, two bookcases, a typing table and a mimeograph table. Then added, By the way, these things were made almost entirely from the boxes we brought from the States. That’s my father, ever resourceful and wasting nothing. Mother added that wood was very scarce and cabinets they could have bought were poor quality. These we’ve made we can take anywhere we go.

Mother hired a girl to help wax the floors. Dust storms are common. All of our floors are of very smooth tile that shows every bit of dust so we’ve decided to wax them and have them dusted every day. This will be easier than scrubbing them every day. The young girl began helping on a regular basis for $5 a month.

Tuesday, April 2, 1946, my father turned twenty-five. The new stove arrived that very day. My mother wrote: we had a big birthday celebration at our house.  There were ten around the table. . .we had a big beef roast, mashed potatoes and gravy, cauliflower, cottage cheese, applesauce, cake and ice-cream. Mrs. Dowdy made the three layers for the cake and I iced it. She also brought the cauliflower, and the mixture for the ice-cream. . .and some of her plates.

Lynn and Lois Schrock—the other young missionary couple we would have sailed with in September had our visas arrived in time—were the surprise guests from Río Cuarto. They stayed with us that week. It was nice to have them with us, said Mother. While here Mrs. Schrock learned to knit and Lynn made a magazine stand.

Wednesday of that week, my parents had their first official language class. For the first two weeks the teacher could only give them a half-hour lesson; they were disappointed. We need two hours a week if not more, they wrote. However, their teacher had previously given them a homework assignment—to translate an article from La Voz, a Christian magazine. Already they were using their limited language on a daily basis and Dad was even preparing a sermon in Spanish to read in church, that is, after the teacher found time to look it over and make corrections.

A week after Dad’s birthday the expensive washing machine arrived. It is a beauty and we believe we will like it very much, but right now there is some defect with the roller gears. We have the guarantee, so we feel sure they will make it right. We already had two large tubs for rinsing and so I made two small benches for them. They will be on castors, so it will be [easy] to handle. We also bought a rubber tube to run the hot water into the tubs. Right now we are washing in the bathroom because there is a mechanism there for heating the water. It operates like a gasoline stove and heats the water as it runs through a coil. It has no storage tank, but it heats as you draw the water, and it does get hot enough!

Mother was busy making her home beautiful and enjoying the process. Dad wrote: Kathryn finished the studio couch. It surely looks nice. . . I hope to make a chair to match it sometime. We have more fun studying and working and studying and working. We feel like we began our married life over again.

Few of us have our very words and antics recorded regularly from infancy and toddlerhood. However, as a first-born in a foreign land, far away from grandparents and family, mine were routinely preserved in the letters.

We had quite a scare last week when the baby fell asleep on the toilet and fell against another article of furniture in the bathroom. She broke the tips off her two upper front teeth and cut her lips just a little. She cried for a long time, but finally went to sleep. [Decades later, I tend to fall asleep at the computer!]

Rita is getting more loveable every day. She surprises us with new words and often says, excuse me, when she belches. She also says, thank you and please quite often. We told her that Grandpa made the handle to our dutch oven and for quite a while after that she pointed to everything and said “Grandpa made it.”

Rita prays for you every morning and often wants to get your picture off of the mantel above the fireplace and look at it. She’ll point to each one and say “Gampa” or “Papa” and “Gamma” and “Uncle Phil”. She knows Aunt Eleanor and Uncle Dan too. Right now she is sitting at her Daddy’s desk looking for trouble. The drawer is opening now and one by one the things are going out. -----“un momentito”-----Just rescued some nice long pieces of lead that would have been broken in a minute.

A “verdulero”(vegetable salesman) came to the house the other day and while I was going to get some money she walked to the door and said “Buenos días” just as if she were the one to tend to the business.

My parents wished they could send photos of my progress, but film was too expensive in Argentina. They asked for some to be sent and were so tickled to get it. The plan was to take some pictures of me with the lovely flowers before fall and winter set in.

In general, my parents’ life was good. They faced hardships and inconveniences, but they had the joys of family life, their work and their faith. Summarizing the experience, my father said: We are certainly happy to be here. We came because we felt that the Lord was calling us here and that it would be a place to serve where others might not choose to go. We find some distinct advantages. We need never worry about getting fired and looking for another church. The children have the opportunity to grow up bilingual and also to travel.

I am reminded of Jesus’ words in the Sermon on the Mount. More than once he admonishes us to not worry about life, food and clothing and all the things we need to live. He knows what we need and he cares for us more than the lilies of the field!  Rather “seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you (Matthew 6:33).”

---

[1] Lower and upper canine teeth as they used to be called.

The Move to La Carlota

Escudo--Coat of Arms

The search for a place to live continued in La Carlota, a much smaller town sixty-five miles southeast of Río Cuarto. We traveled there to visit the other Grace Brethren missionary family, the Dowdys—Paul, Dortha and the boys. As Mother writes, They treated us royally while we were there.

The real estate agent hired in Río Cuarto to search out a home for us remained unsuccessful. Meanwhile, Dad noted on February 16, Brother Dowdy and I canvassed La Carlota for a house and found one - after a day and a half. . . It is a very lovely place with four rooms, a bath, kitchen, wash house, two garages, a large patio and a sort of wide hallway. The rent is 70 pesos or $17.50 per month. We do praise the Lord for this and are looking forward to moving in by about February 20. Mother added, Our new home in Carlota has a nice, large, shady patio. The house was a doctor’s home and he still has his offices in the front.

At that time, my parents expected to live in La Carlota for a year or so while learning the language. Dad added, Although we do not say much in Spanish yet, we are understanding more and more every day.

During our visit, Brother Dowdy introduced us to two smaller towns he visits regularly—Santa Eufemia and Los Cisnes. Dad commented: The work seems very interesting, but I don’t see how he gets around to all of it. He leaves for these various places about 4 or 5 p.m. and doesn’t get home until midnight.

In Los Cisnes, a lady was hired to tutor my parents—Clara Debanne, one of the believers there who is. . . very talented . . . speaks English fluently, . . . can give us the best meaning and connotation to the various words.

The group at La Carlota had a welcome service for us in the Dowdy’s patio. Kathryn and I both said a few words. I played my horn. Brother Dowdy read scripture, and showed some pictures of the United States. It seemed wonderful to see many faces of various friends, pastors and relatives. 

Perhaps Dad felt a twinge of homesickness, but not for long. His next comment was, we are enjoying Argentina and are very anxious to get settled so we can really put forth every effort to the learning of the language. We believe there is a real future for this work.

About the return trip to Río Cuarto, Mother wrote, Rita was worse than I’ve ever seen her. Half the journey she cried. I generally take milk along, but since she broke her bottle and it was only a two-and-a-half hour ride we decided we could make it. Oh what a time we had. We were met at the bus station and taken by taxi--a horse-drawn carriage--to the mission station. When we got here she drank three glasses of milk.

The day before the trip, our boxes had arrived from Buenos Aires and for the most part remained unopened. The sewing machine came through pretty well. Mother added, however, that the mimeograph was bent in four or five places and will take some patience and work to get it into running order.

Then, February 16, my parents caught a glimpse into the local political scene. Mother said, Last night I got only a few hours’ sleep as outside our window they were preparing for a great political meeting. They built a large platform for the Democratic candidates, Tamborini and Mosca. If these two men get in office we’ll have seen the president and vice-president of Argentina. At 6:30 in the morning they began shooting off bombs to announce the meeting. They kept it up until about 7:15. You can imagine what it sounded like just 30 feet away.

February 24 Dad wrote: Today was election day. I guess they always have things of that nature on Sunday. The country is very tense. Probably more interest has been shown in this election than any for years. Four parties have combined in their candidates to defeat Perón.

Newly arrived, my parents had formed no opinion as to the best candidate. Dad didn’t know what was best, but I do pray that there shall be more freedom for the gospel. Who won the election? Perón.

Juan Domingo Perón was an army officer who joined a coup in 1943 against the government. His popularity and influence grew rapidly, due to measures he took to help the working class when he was appointed secretary of labor. Later he became minister of war and  vice president. In October 1945, however, he was ousted and imprisoned in a coup led by civilians and officers of an ultra conservative Catholic mindset. His charismatic mistress, Eva Duarte, inspired an uprising of the workers, which forced his release on October 17. That night he addressed the thousands from the balcony of the presidential palace and promised victory in the coming presidential election. Four days later, he married Eva, memorialized in the musical “Evita” and “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina.”   

Years later I saw images of Juan and Evita in every classroom and joined the student body singing the Peronist March. Here is a sample of what I remember to this day, although the entire song has nine stanzas.

Los muchachos peronistas                                          The Peronist boys
todos unidos triunfaremos                                           All united will stand
y como siempre daremos                                            And as always we will
un grito de corazón:                                                    Sing our hearts out
¡Viva Perón! ¡Viva Perón!                                          ¡Hail Perón! ¡Hail Perón!  

While Argentines decided the course of their nation, my parents settled in for a lifetime of service.

Some of what little they brought with them in the way of furnishings was damaged. The sewing machine suffered a few severed joints in the cover, but the mechanism was tip top. The dishes, however, suffered more. About 15 different pieces were broken. The wood stove had one small crack in the base, of no importance. Dad grieved most over the mimeograph machine and said, The cylinder had some dents in it and several of the shafts were bent. I’ll need to see if I can get it working. I know my amazing handyman Daddy was successful because I remember as a child helping with the many mimeographing projects.

Assuming availability and better prices in the city, Dad and Mother went furniture shopping in Río Cuarto. They bargained for a dining room set and wrote down the price. When they went to pick it up, the salesman wanted 100 pesos more and in the end refused to sell. They were able to purchase a bedroom set consisting of a bed, chest of drawers, and wardrobe.

Monday, February 18, the rented truck was sent on ahead, loaded with everything we owned. We rode with the Dowdys, who had come to the city for dental work. By six P.M. we had our belongings in our new home.  Tuesday we bought a dining room set. . . a table, six chairs, and two buffets. . . quite nice looking. . . costing 420 pesos. . . I got a desk for 50 pesos. . .We also bought an ice box, a “calentador” (small kerosene burner). It starts with alcohol and has a pressure pump on it. Also got a small unpainted kitchen table and two kitchen chairs. A table top kerosene stove will be here within 10 to 15 days. The next thing we want is an electric washer. They cost $200 so we must wait for that. I am making a small kitchen cabinet for Kathryn and will make another before long.

Caring for a child in the best of conditions can be trying, but coping with their first, a twenty-one-month toddler, while starting life in a new home and a foreign culture, adds an additional challenge. My mother and father, like many young parents, alternately showed good insights and made mistakes. 

Mother had not anticipated the annoying insects of summer and noted that I was all peppered with mosquito bites.

She also mentioned, The last few nights Rita has been crying herself to sleep since we’ve taken her bottle from her. From my current perspective as a grandmother, I ask -- What?! They took away my comfort during a time of life transition?

Then again she says, Last night she was sitting on the toidy when she fell asleep. It was so funny to see her sit and nod. I repeat -- What?! Potty training that early, during a big move and even laughing at me?

Life had its fun times too: We got the January issue of the Geographic and have enjoyed it a lot. We told Rita that Grandma and Grandpa sent it and for a long time she sat leafing through one page after another. The National Geographic subscription was my grandparents’ Christmas gift to all their missionary children every year.

Ultimately, my parents believed with all their heart the biblical promise: "The Lord is the One who will go before you. He will be with you; He will not leave you or forsake you. Do not be afraid or discouraged (Deuteronomy 31:8 HCSB)."