Saturday, July 31, 2021

Locusts

 


Early in January of 1947, my parents wrote of the natural disaster that hit our area—an invasion of locusts.

Mother wrote, Right now we are experiencing one of the 10 plagues that the Egyptians experienced – the plague of grasshoppers.

Though the letters referred to them consistently as grasshoppers, I was curious to know if there was a difference between grasshoppers and locusts. I learned that though they are the same species, locusts change their appearance and behavior. Under certain conditions shy green grasshoppers turn brown, become gregarious, and swarm aggressively, whereas grasshoppers remain solitary.[1]

In the Bible both are listed as edible, along with crickets. “The only winged insects you may eat are locusts, grasshoppers, and crickets. All other winged insects that crawl are too disgusting for you to eat.” (Lev. 11:20-23 CEV)

The first mention of locusts is in  the description of the eighth plague inflicted on Pharaoh and his people. “They dropped from the sky and overran the land of Egypt from one end to the other. Countless numbers of them swarmed in the air and crawled over the ground. Never had there been nor would there ever be again such a swarm of locusts in Egypt. The locusts blanketed the whole land until the ground was smothered in darkness. They devoured every plant growing in the fields and stripped every tree of its fruit, everything the hail had not destroyed. Not one green leaf was left on any tree, not one plant was left growing in the field anywhere in the land of Egypt.” (Exodus 10:14-15 (VOICE)

My mother went on to compare our experience with that of the Egyptians: I don’t suppose it is as bad but to us, it seems terrible. . . In Santa Eufemia, dry goods stores, tailor shops, etc. had to close up as the grasshoppers were eating the materials. The outside walls of the houses are covered so solidly with them that it looks from a distance like they were covered with ivy.

Day and night men are burning them by the thousands with flame throwers or torches. In places there isn’t a green thing left. One morning we woke up and found one part of our patio just covered with them. In order to prevent them from eating up all our grass, the palm leaves, flowers, etc. we went to one of the believer’s homes and he came and burned them up right away. They were still young yet and within 15 days (the time it takes for them to grow big enough to fly) they probably would have eaten every green thing in our patio. (1.04.47)

Dad’s description followed a couple of days later, along with the promise of photos to come: Now the grasshopper plague. It has come to La Carlota. I took a picture of it yesterday and hope to take some more so that you folks will believe what we say. Thankfully those few faded photos survived these many decades to illustrate the words that follow.

They cover trees, ground, houses and all so that there is standing room only. There is a river just at the edge of our pueblo, but that did not bother them at all. They came right across the river. They march just like an army and keep coming without end. The fight against them is certainly a good example of what a war must be like. If you want to win a war all you must do is have plenty of men so that no matter how many are killed they still keep marching on.

I was reminded of the inspired utterances of Agur in Proverbs 30. He praises locusts, among the four small but very wise things on earth, for their warlike cooperation and unrelenting onslaught “locusts have no king, yet they advance together in ranks.” (Prov. 30:27 NIV)

Later I discovered an article Dad wrote for the denominational magazine where he described this “pestilence,” interestingly and poetically ascribing the creatures evil motives.


   Marching, marching, marching—the multitudinous armies marched upon their enemies desirous of nothing but destruction. Although they were destroyed by fire, crushed and trapped in deep holes by the millions, they marched on with never-decreasing force and ruin.

   It was interesting to watch the newspaper reports of the devastating hordes of grasshoppers in flight from Brazil, going ever southward until they reached the tip of the continent. As the millions flew in, we were amazed at their numbers and their quick departure. Seven weeks revealed that, although they hadn’t eaten much, they had done something far worse—laid millions of eggs.

   We first noted the highways covered with a sort of black pebble-like thing. Later they became larger changed color to green, and filled the trees and green plants. Soon they invaded the towns—marching, eating, destroying, day and night. As we drove down the main street of one of our towns, this very unusual sight met our eyes: streets, sidewalks and buildings covered with grasshoppers; people standing at the door with tree branches in hand making the last hopeless effort against the enemy. They had destroyed all the shade trees, fruit trees, and vegetables. The people were determined to keep them at least from entering the houses. The plague of Egypt needs no explanation to young or old in this country.


   As we viewed the plague in surrounding towns, we wondered if they would be able to do anything to stop their entrance into La Carlota. We were happy when we saw their success with the use of sheet metal barriers around the town. Our optimism led us to believe that when these little grasshoppers grew wings they would fly away and we would be saved. To our disappointment they just flew into the town. One could stop the hoppers with tin barriers, fire throwers, and pits, but nothing could be done against the fliers. They left the land of summer worse than any winter landscape, because they not only ate the leaves of the trees but much of the bark.


   This terrible pest first ate all green things of every sort. They completely destroyed the corn harvest in much of the country. If they got into the homes, they ate curtains and clothes, and even furniture. With nothing else within their reach, they ate one another. In the Young People’s Camp the grasshoppers ate holes in trousers, bathing suits, hymn books, and ladies’ housecoats.

   Not only were they destructive by their eating, but they caused great changes in train schedules. The myriads of grasshoppers crushed on the tracks left so much oil that they were left stranded in the country without sand, and many times with insufficient fuel. Some trains reached their destinations six and twelve hours late. Crushed grasshoppers also caused accidents on the highways. A large truck with trailer jack-knifed, and was destroyed as it slipped on the grasshoppers.[5]

That year, 1947, John E. Parker, an expert from the United State Department of Agriculture, was invited by the Argentine government to study the locust problem and offer solutions. In September he submitted his report “Comments and suggestions on locust control in Argentina.” He visited the provinces with the greatest infestations, consulted with those engaged in locust control and studied the measures employed. He began his report with the point he wanted to emphasize. “Coming to your country in the midst of one of your worst locust outbreaks, I was greatly surprised to find that no serious attempt had been made to prevent it by destroying the insects while they were concentrated in their winter quarters.” His recommendations therefore focused more on aggressive preventive measures than the methods used to combat the plague, although these were listed and compared for their availability, cost, and effectiveness.

I wondered, had there been further destructive locust invasions such as we had witnessed, or were they avoided. I found some answers in the January 26, 2016 New York Times article “Argentina Scrambles to Fight the Biggest Plague of Locusts in 60 Years.” The government’s agricultural inspection agency and provincial authorities had intensified their efforts to exterminate the insects in their earlier stages in the dry forests of northern Argentina but it was not enough. Some areas are impenetrable and locust clouds uncontrollable, even more than four miles long and nearly two miles high. An emergency hotline was set up to report sightings and coordinate a response that would minimize the damage.

In neither of the mentioned scenarios, were the locusts described as “a gift from above, not a plague” as Frank Hopkins refers to the swarm that hit him in 1890 during the 3000-mile race across the desert as depicted in the 2004 film “Hidalgo.” To him and his horse the locusts represented desperately needed nourishment.

My parents didn’t make a meal out of the abundance of locusts, despite Biblical approval. As a toddler, would I have ventured to play with the hopping, whizzing, flying insects or dared to pick one up and pop it in my mouth? It is most likely that I was not allowed outdoors as long as the locust invasion lasted. However, some of them probably made their way indoors. In the far recesses of my memory an image lingers of pock marks left on the furniture.

There was at least one Biblical character who understood the benefits of a diet of locusts and honey--John the Baptist, an early minimalist!

Then I asked myself, what “gifts from above” might I be missing, overlooking, avoiding?

This quandary led me to dig deeper into the many references to locusts in the Bible, more than thirty! This is what I learned. Locusts are:

·         Nutritious:  ". . . you may eat: the locust of any kind, the bald locust of any kind, the cricket of any kind, and the grasshopper of any kind (Lev. 11:22 ESV).”  The clear mention of these edible protein-rich insects led me to question whether they were a regular part of the diet of the Israelites.

·         Numerous: whenever the Scriptures seeks to convey the concept of countless masses, it refers to locusts: . . . they would come like locusts in number—both they and their camels could not be counted. . . . like locusts in abundance. . . (Judg. 6:5 ESV). . . they are more numerous than locusts; they are without number. (Jer. 46:23 ESV)

·         Obedient: they develop and behave as programmed by the Creator. Joel wrote about the stages they go through. “What the cutting locust left, the swarming locust has eaten. What the swarming locust left, the hopping locust has eaten, and what the hopping locust left, the destroying locust has eaten. (Joel 1:4 ESV, emphasis my own.)

 )     Beyond that, God is their Commander, he is in control. “He spoke and the locusts came. . .” (Ps. 105:34 ESV) “He gave their crops to the destroying locust and the fruit of their labor to the locust.” (Ps. 78:46 ESV)

Ki    King Solomon in his prayer of dedication of the Temple, lists a variety of scenarios brought about because of the sins of the people, among them devastation caused by the locust. Then he pleads with God “whatever prayer, whatever plea is made by any man or by all your people Israel, each knowing the affliction of his own heart and stretching out his hands toward this house, then hear in heaven your dwelling place and forgive and act and render to each whose heart you know, according to all his ways . . .” (1 Kings 8:38-39 ESV)
    God appeared to Solomon and said, “I have heard your prayer,” and goes on to mention locusts among some of the judgments brought upon the people. Then in his mercy He extends hope. “When I . . . command the locust to devour the land. . . if my people who are called by my name humble themselves, and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and heal their land.
 (II Chron. 6:13-14 ESV) God’s grace goes even further when He promises, “I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten, the hopper, the destroyer, and the cutter, my great army, which I sent among you.” (Joel 2:25 ESV)

        Perhaps I will not add locusts to my diet, but may I not miss the lessons that come through suffering, they are a gift from above.



[1] “When Grasshoppers Go Biblical: Seratonin Causes Locusts to Swarm,” Scientific American, Katherine Harmon, January 30, 2009.

[2] The Brethren Missionary Herald, March 29, 1947, p 288.

Wednesday, July 14, 2021

Fiestas: Celebrations and Festivities

 

 

That first year settling into our new home, we celebrated birthdays and holidays as best we could in our new surroundings, and we encountered festivals belonging to this new culture.

Dad’s birthday came first, April 2, only six weeks into our life in La Carlota. The arrival of the new stove that very day, along with the surprise visit of colleagues from Río Cuarto, allowed for a special meal, ten people around the table.

Next was Easter, April 21. There is no record in the letters of what the missionaries may have done in their various towns only a description of the local traditions. Semana Santa and Pascua (Holy Week and Easter) were major celebrations in every town. Dad wrote: This is Easter season and a big one here in the Argentine. Last night at 6 o’clock (Good Friday) we put Rita in her cart and went up to the main street to see the big parade. It looked like all of La Carlota was there to parade the streets in hopes of saving their souls. The procession began with a boy carrying a cross. He was dressed in a fancy white cape. Behind him came about 75 children dressed in their best clothes. Next in line came men and women carrying lighted candles, chanting as they went. All the women wore netted veils. Throughout the whole procession were three images. These they bore on staves like the Israelites did the ark. The first image was of Christ, the second of Mary and the last of Christ resting at the foot of a cross after His death. The priest walked before the last image and at every street crossing, he would stop the image and chant off a few lines of something. . . On a cross out in front of their church is written in Spanish “Save your soul” so I suppose they were in the process last night. . . Mrs. Dowdy told us that every year they bury or go through the act of burying Christ and some people actually think that the Lord dies every year. (4.20.46)

A couple of weeks later, Dad came across another local expression of religiosity. Brother Dowdy took me with him to Reducción to view the curiosities at a Catholic Shrine. May 1-3 people come from all parts of Argentina to this little town. The story goes that an image called the Saint of a Good Life was missing in a large Catholic church in some other part of Argentina. Later it was found in Reducción in the Catholic church. It was taken back, but soon after it was found there again. They therefore concluded that God wanted it there and that this place held some special charm. Outside the church were many and various stands selling all sorts of things very much like one would see at a fair in the States . . . many and sundry images, dolls, toy trucks and trinkets, candy, matches, tobacco, and many other things. There were several gambling stands . . . for wine, money and perhaps other prizes. I wondered what this was all about and I found out that those who operate these stands must pay a commission to the priest. Just to the left of the church door is a stand where one can buy Holy water pumped by a windmill behind the church. The inside of the church appears very much like those in the States. They are by far the richest buildings of each community. There was a mob of people inside the church. I wondered what they were doing, but I soon found out. They were going to the various images especially that of Mary and the Crucifix and were kissing the feet, passing their hands over the bodies, touching the hem of the garments of Mary and other things. Soon the priest had the people come to order and those who wanted to be confirmed were to form a circle. When they were ready, the Bishop of this section came dragging his robes through the crowd. One woman kissed the Bishop’s hand as he passed by. Confirmation consists of putting a little oil on the forehead in the form of the cross. Then the Bishop takes three passes at the victim all the time saying something in Latin and Spanish, and then he actually has the nerve to slap the person. Some of the young boys couldn’t keep from laughing when they performed this on them.

There are ever so many folks here who will talk about their church, run it into the ground for being unreasonable and mercenary, laugh at the idea of confessing to a priest who does things which even they wouldn’t do, but they remain Catholics. (5.04.46)

Unrelated to any festival, Brother Dowdy planned another trip in June to visit a few other mission points in the province. He was doing his best to acquaint my parents with various aspects of the work. Early Friday morning we started out with Brother Dowdy to go for Huinca Renancó. We stopped for a minute again at Mr. Dowdy’s house before leaving the town and when Jimmy and Roger found out that we were going to take Rita with us they were so disappointed that we decided we better leave her in Carlota. We hurriedly took out her clothes from the suitcase and went on our way. 

My parents later realized that they had done what was best for me and them. During that four-day adventure, the weather was cold, the roads were hazardous, and accommodations unpredictable. On the way we went through or around about two dozen “pantanos” or “lagunas” in the road. They are low places in the road where they have filled up with water. Most of them look like lakes and unless they have sandy bottoms you’re doomed. We fortunately didn’t get stuck in any but we sure had a sinking feeling sometimes. After two hours on dirt roads we arrived at Laboulaye where one of our national workers, Brother Siccardi, leads the work. (6.11.46) 

    If I had been along I could have met Mirtha, the youngest of his four children. In years to come she became my best friend. However, at ages two and four, the encounter may not have been that memorable.

And how did I fare during this short stay with the Dowdys? Dad wrote that when they arrived back Monday about 1:15 in the afternoon. Rita was well and happy and apparently hadn’t missed us at all . . . she looked us over for a while then started laughing.

In July, Argentina commemorates its independence from Spain. July 9, 1816, thirty-three delegates from the united provinces—las Provincias Unidas del Río de la Plata--voted and officially declared separation from Spanish rule. Surrounding this important Argentine national holiday, schools have a one- or two-week winter break, “las vacaciones de invierno.” The dates vary each year.

Dad commented on the confusion resulting from too many holidays. The schools have so many vacations down here now that the children ask, “When do we have classes again?” not “When do we have some vacation?” Most of the vacations are a day here and a day there for the honor of some “Saint’s Day”. It’s gotten to be a laughingstock for the Argentines themselves. It makes the businessman angry to turn around every other day and close up shop. Of course, Kathryn and I never know when they are going to come so on those days the bread man brings an extra supply of bread to our door. We are surprised and he tells us that tomorrow is fiesta and they will not be delivering bread—all stores closed. (7.14.46)

July 29, Mother turned twenty-five, but there is no mention of what they did. However, my parents’ anniversary was duly celebrated and recorded in writing and in photos which show that Mother could still fit into her wedding dress.

August 22--Today is our fourth wedding anniversary and the thirty-third of Mom and Pop Hirschy. I must say that I am more contented with my wife each year. . . It must have been of the Lord. We are going to celebrate by having the Dowdys over for supper. Kathryn made a three-layer cake last night-two layers of sunshine cake and one of chocolate. We also got a little extravagant and bought some boiled ham at the price of 65 cents per pound. That is U.S. money. I suppose you folks would think that is cheap, but when we think of the peso as a dollar, then it is almost 2.75 per lb.

As an anniversary gift to my wife I am making her a tripod for her flannelgraph board and a case to contain the board, tripod and whatever materials she may need. (8.22.46)

Sept 24th is the big festival in honor of the patron saint of La Carlota . . . the Virgen Mercedes. Nine days before this date they begin to have services in the Catholic Church each evening. In one of these services the priest said that the Evangelicals were nice on the outside but rotten on the inside. In another the Bishop spoke and warned the people not to be deceived by the Evangelicals’ gifts . . . When the big day arrived, we were amazed to see the crowd in the procession. Some estimated it at about 4,000. This time they carried an image of this saint through the streets. When they passed Dowdy’s house where some of us were standing watching, the priest cried, “Viva la patria” and the people echoed “Viva”. Then “Viva el pueblo” or the town, “Viva la Acción Católica” or Catholic Action/Catechism, “Viva los niños católicos, “Viva el cura”. . . Three fourths of the people don’t even think much of the priest . . . I had opportunity to talk with a couple men whom I saw in the parade later. One told me that he didn’t believe all that but was just in the parade to manifest his belief in God. . . . he was just there because he was brought up that way. . . . The other told me he was in the procession because his family was there. This latter then went ahead to tell me all the fakes and superstitions in the Catholic Church. (9.27.46)

November 1. . . is the “Day of all Saints”. The schools are all out and business is shut down for half a day. Tomorrow is the “Day of the Dead”. Everybody goes to the cemetery and pays the priest to pray for their dead loved ones. (11.01.46)

Brother Dowdy and I went to the cemetery . . . We saw people saying prayers for the dead and I suppose the priest was there although we didn’t see him. That is one of his big days for making money. We passed out tracts. . . this week too. One always has some interesting experiences when doing this. Brother Dowdy handed a tract to a lady of about 35 and she refused saying, “I’m sorry, sir, but I am very much catholic”. He said, “Yes, that’s all right, but you can read this”. She continued to refuse. Two or three little boys were passing by at the same time and they said to their dad, “Huh, that’s funny, Catholics can’t read.” (11.09.46)

 For Jimmy Dowdy’s 9th birthday in November, all of us were invited to the Debanne’s (the family of our language teacher and friend) for asado—the typical Argentine barbecue meal in which a variety of meats are cooked on a grill or over an open fire.

Dad opened his next letter with, “Ahora quedamos solos.” (Now we are left alone.) On the 19th, the Dowdys moved on to Río Cuarto, their new assignment. And we were left on our own. Well, not totally. Jimmy stayed with us a few days to finish out the school year. Wednesday, we had to take Jimmy to his final program, wrote Dad. It lasted a long time and there was not much order. . . I rather liked the final speech of the lady director of the school . . . she tried to instill a desire within the parents and children for work. (12.22.46)

Christmas, the final celebration of the year, was met with mixed emotions. Mother especially felt the frustration of keeping the traditional programs going—summer vacation Bible School and a Christmas program in which everyone was begging for a part. They were overwhelmed with the responsibility of caring for the ongoing ministry in four towns solely on their shoulders. And the reality of living far away from family and friends hit them especially during the holidays. 

Our Christmas will be a little lonely this year, wrote Mother. However, we’ll have a good time anyway. In the evening of the 25th we have a meeting in Los Cisnes and it is always nice to go there and be with the Debannes. (She is our teacher or rather was and speaks English very well.). . . We’ve been so busy with canning, D.V.B.S., etc. that we forgot about Christmas cards and presents . . . so no one got even a card from us.

The following week Mother’s letter described that first Christmas in Argentina.  After the program we came home, put Rita to bed and then put up the little artificial Christmas tree. The tricycle didn’t arrive from B.A. so we gave her a doll that Sam bought in New York one time (We had packed it away for a future Christmas not thinking it would be so soon). I made Rita a Christmas stocking and she hung it up before she went to bed. The first thing she said the next morning was “Where’s the Christmas tree?” She was very well pleased with her doll, the Christmas tree and everything. It was the strangest Christmas we’d ever had; hot weather and we were all alone. I forgot to tell you that Rita also got a little rocking chair from the Debannes. (12.29.46)

At two-and-a-half years I had no idea how strange this Christmas season was for my parents—very warm temperatures, no snow, and all the work involved in the usual summer programs. Indeed, the entire first year in Argentina was so new and different. However, they were eager learners and did not let loneliness and hard work dampen their zeal. They longed to someday be able to say of those they lived among: “So then you are no longer foreigners and strangers, but fellow citizens with the saints, and members of God’s household. (Ephesians 2:19 HCSB)” 

Wednesday, June 30, 2021

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 (19th 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

Monday, June 14, 2021

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