Debby Meder, my mom, put a posting on FB about a gift I gave her for Christmas. I need to respond, because I am convinced the gift truly was not from me. Marsha Runge Fairbanks and Debby Meder are sisters. Anyway, back in the 1960s, these girls lived on a farm on Route 60 in Cassadaga, NY. (The aged farm is still there today.) Dick Runge, the girls’ father, died as a result of a car accident. Then just nine months later, Iola, their mother, died due to cancer. Dick was just 38 and Iola was only 42 years old. Debby was in grade school at the time and Marsha was in college. Needless to say, the family fell apart. The farm was quickly auctioned off and the four children were separated. Life changed. Before the auction, Debby was allowed to walk through the house and take three “small things.” She selected things that were of meaning to her as a child. Larger items, of course, could not be taken. Marsha never had that opportunity. Rather, she received a barn bucket of “things” that were removed from the house before the auction – family pictures, her mother’s plates, some pots, just a few childhood items. (Marsha later decorated the bucket pictured below.) As I poured over Marsha and Debby’s stories this summer, a few things stuck out. Debby had two very pronounced memories of her mother, both of which were heartfelt. One was of her mother reading her the story “Dust Under the Rug” nearly every evening. The other was of her mother singing the hymn “Count Your Blessings” while doing dishes in the kitchen the summer after their father passed away. Obviously, Debby’s mother, knowing she was terminally ill, still had a commitment in her heart to God. She wanted—truly—to remember the good in the midst of a horrible situation. The framed hymn is below. Finally, as Marsha and Debby told their stories my heart ached over the fact that they both had their eyes on the farm at various times following the death of their parents, both thinking they had lost it forever. (Marsha stayed for a time in a home that overlooked the farm, making it hard to sleep at night. Debby was in the same position, having to ride the school bus past the farm routinely for the remainder of the school year after her mother passed.) This summer God prompted me to contact the property owner and ask for barn wood. Honestly, I did so without understanding the significance of what I was doing. The current owner, Albert Vandette, Jr., is the son of the man who actually won the farm at the original auction. As I told him the story, he reached into his pocket and grabbed his cell phone. He called the tenant farmer as I stood there. Albert instructed the tenant that he was to give “whatever pieces and whatever amount of barn wood this lady wants. Not quite knowing what I was to do with it, I took the barn wood to John Stahley (my neighbor) and I asked him if he would hide it in his garage. As I told him the story, he told me “I have an idea.” Yes, John built the table pictured below. The polished barn wood is simply beautiful. Now, the legs are constructed of barn wood that was taken from my step-dad’s farm. He’s been a support to the family for many years, so that makes sense! Well, John picked choice pieces of the barn wood and laid them aside for Marsha. Last week Tammy, Marsha’s daughter, met me in Buffalo and picked up Marshas barn wood. (She is pictured below.) Marsha got the wood for Christmas this afternoon. (Look at her face. So, so surprised.) Marsha and I just spoke. Get this--she too has a neighbor who specializes in woodworking. She is going to have him design something. I cannot WAIT to see what it is! Why am I sharing this? Here’s why. I just am humbled. As I drove away from the farm on Route 60 that day with the barn wood sticking out the windows of the Honda (praying I would not get pulled over), I had chills. I recounted the stories of the girls saying that they stared at the farm after the auction, thinking it was lost, missing what they had. Touching the wood for myself that day, tearing it off the barn and loading it I knew that God had placed their initials on those boards at the time of the auction. Moreover, God had it orchestrated that the owner of the barn would not accept anything for the wood, nor would John Stahley, an openly Christian man, for his work in mastering the wood for the table. They all wanted to do this out of respect for these women. Truly, there is no doubt the gift is from God, not from me. I deserve no credit. I just felt the need to record that for all of you. I hope that you have “Counted Your Blessings” today! Debby and Marsha are a blessing to me and I just wanted to share the photos with you!
Posted on: Fri, 26 Dec 2014 01:39:45 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015