The Last Word He Spoke to Me Was "LOVE"!

The year is 1945 and this is the pastor's family on a Sunday morning just before or just after Church service. The pastor was such a good preacher and he had a great singing voice. The pastor's wife was great in children's ministry but one thing always made her sad. She couldn't carry a tune. So many times throughout her long life she said she could hardly wait to get to Heaven so she could SING! In case you didn't guess already, this is Grandma and Grandpa Buza with their three sons: Carlin, Joel (being held), and the sweet little guy with his hands on his knees is Wayne. I was always amazed that Wayne was so blonde when he was little and had such dark hair when he was a man. I saw a little clipping of his light and fine hair that Grandma kept in an envelope. Of course, I think he was the sweetest of the three but I am biased.

Right now, I want to talk about Pastor Robert Buza. He was my father-in-law and YOUR great grandfather. Some of you remember him and some of you do not. May I share some things about his life? It is my hope that you will learn a little lesson about what is most important in life. And I hope that hearing more about your great grandfather will motivate all of you to live this life for Jesus first of all.

Robert Frank Buza was born on March 7, 1911 in Bradley, Illinois. He died at the age of 80 in Machias, Maine. He had three brothers: Wayne (Abe), Frederick (Fritz), and William (who died in childhood). He had one sister, Beulah. His mother (Eva) had a reputation for being a godly woman but we never heard that Albert, his father, was a Christian. Grandpa did not become a Christian until he was in his late 20s. He told of how he went to Church services one night to cause a ruckus and to make fun of the evangelist who was speaking. But God had other plans and he melted Grandpa’s rebellious heart and He trusted in Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior. Within a year or so he had made a serious commitment to serve the Lord in the ministry of the gospel and became a student at Practical Bible Training School in Johnson City, New York. After his graduation from Bible school, he and grandma were married. He served briefly as a missionary in Guatemala and pastored a number of Churches in New York, Pennsylvania, Illinois, and Maine.

Question: How did this rebellious young man become transformed into a preacher ot the gospel and a missionary? Answer: Through the unconditional love and grace of God. In answer to the prayers of a godly mother.

Here is part of a letter that his mother, Eva Chaney Buza wrote from Illinois to her son in New York:

Well, Robt, my prayers for you night and day are that you may be deeper and deeper steeped in the riches of God’s truths. That Jesus will use you mightily in His services. That as you yield your will to the spirit’s your joy will be multiplied
Well Robert, I sent your money and blanket. Did your blanket and money arrive o.k.?
We all miss you greatly. But rejoice that you are doing God’s will. Many friends ask for you. Hubert Frost visited Fred one a.m. and when I told him his mouth dropt open 2 inches and then he said Good for him! That’s fine! But Hubert has linked himself with the Catholics and is to be married Oct. 1st Sat to Jessie Vienna.Let me know about your trip, hardships and all; they are to be counted as tested blessings. Those whom God loves he chassens. Please write me all your news and we always pray for you and Merle at home and at Church. The Church loves Merle and prays for his advancement in Christ’s plan for him. May God richly bless you in your present place of experience with all Love, Mother and all..

This is what Grandma Dallas, his wife, had to say about him: "from the first time that I knew him, he was a very special person. He had a great love for his Lord and a great love for people. He was so caring and thoughtful and always willing to go the second mile to please everyone or help them in any way he could. He was a hard worker and had a marvelous memory. He also had a good sense of humor -- always had a pleasant attitude. He was a wonderful husband and father and the people of the Churches he pastored liked him. The nicest thing he ever did for me is when he put that wedding ring on my finger on June 4, 1941."

I was his daughter-in-law, but he treated me as a daughter. Never once did I doubt his love for me and his acceptance of me. A few hours before he died, I stood by his bedside. He had suffered strokes and speech was very difficult. His eyes sparkled and his face radiated as he struggled to utter one, last word to me, "love".

The Bible says there are three things that last: faith, hope, and love. But "the greatest of these is love." You, dear grandchildren, are LOVED! Your family loves you dearly, but GOD loves you most of all!

He Prayed for US!

There is a little, old Church that stands on a grassy knoll on the West Road in Monticello, Maine. It was once a vibrant meeting place for the Primitive Baptist people in that community and neighboring New Brunswick, Canada. In 1917 my grandfather, Clifford Burpee Cain, was ordained to the gospel ministry at the West Road Church.

We didn't ever see him and our Dad had no memory of him, for he died in 1918 of a tuberculosis infection when our father was only two years old. He left this earth at the age of forty-two, but he left a tremendous inheritance to all of us. [From his obituary:  "Mr. Cain was a great sufferer, nevertheless, he displayed the Spirit of his Master. . . dying in the triumph of Christian faith."] Oh, he didn't leave us money or earthly treasures. Instead, he heaped upon all of us the benefits of his prayer life. We have been told by some of the older Christians in Monticello and nearby towns that our grandfather was a man greatly devoted to prayer. We are told that it was his habit to pray all night long once a week for his family and the generations to come! That includes you and me and our families. I will never be able to tell you how thankful I am that my grandfather prayed for me long before I was born -- and he prayed for YOU.

When I was a child, we sometimes visited this Church for special services. Friends and family members met for joyous fellowship and preaching. Sometimes we had picnic lunches after service. The adults visited while the children played.

Most of the time, now, the West Road Church is quiet. Its  big steeple bell remains silent and its doors remain locked. Some older folks remember the blessing of that Church, still love the old building and tenderly care for it. They keep it clean and have it ready for the rare worship service held there. Much of its history is lost to me. But it is a symbol of our family's Christian roots and heritage. 

In July of 2010, as part of a family reunion, we met at this little Church for spiritual renewal and revival services. One of the speakers was my brother. He became the second Clifford Cain to preach from the Word of God at the West Road Church. (Here he is pictured at the old piano with his little grandson, Eli.)

How about you? How about me? Are we building a spiritual legacy for the generations to come? Do we pray for them? There is nothing better we can leave for our children and grandchildren than a faithful Christian example. May GOD help us to be faithful in doing just that.

  

I SAW Him First!

I was born on his 20th birthday. For that reason, he was the hero of my 2-year-old life. It didn't matter to me that he was stationed with the US Air Force in London as a radio man during WWII. It just mattered to me that he was my uncle and his name was Lawrence and I was born on his birthday. I loved him sight unseen. (This picture was taken in 1943, the year I was born.)

At my first glimpse of him, I knew him immediately! He came home from the war without letting anyone know when he was going to arrive. He wanted to surprise his Mom and Dad -- and he DID.

But I SAW him first. I was in the big, blue bedroom upstairs in my grandparents' home (Grampie Ellery and Grammie Muriel). Just as I looked out one of the windows, I saw a car pull up to the mouth of the driveway and a man in uniform stepped out. Instantly I recognized him from his pictures. MY UNCLE LAWRENCE!

I started to shout as I ran down over the stairs and to the shed door: "Uncle Lawrence is HERE!" My mother and my grandmother yelled, "Come back here!" But I kept running. I wasn't used to disobeying, but even Mama and Grammie weren't going to keep me from running to my Uncle Lawrence. They yelled, "Where are you going? Uncle Lawrence isn't out there!" I threw my words over my shoulder, "Yes he is!" And I outran my beloved caretakers on the swiftest feet I could muster.

By the time I got to him, he was about half-way down the driveway. I ran wildly toward his smiling face and outstretched arms with absolutely NO fear at all. They had shown me lots of pictures of him and his face was dear to me.

Certainly as soon as my Mom and my Grandmother rounded the end of the house, they saw that I was right. I suppose they saw him scoop me up in his arms to hold me over his head. He held me aloft, looking into my eyes and laughing. I'll never forget that moment. His face said it all! He loved me as much as I loved him. It was love even BEFORE first sight!

I remember nothing else about that home-coming. Surely it was a blessing beyond words to my mother -- her brother was home safe and alive from all the bombings of London! My grandparents, my aunt and the rest of the family must have bowed their heads and thanked the LORD for his safe return.

Well, that was our first laugh together, but far from the last. What a fun-loving uncle. He is 87 now and very ill. He is getting ready to go and live with the dear LORD that he loves. If he is in Heaven before I am, I wonder if he will see me coming when it is my turn to go home? Maybe HE will see me coming and come running to meet ME and greet me to my "forever home". It's something wonderful to speculate about.

Oh, you might want to know that somebody else shares our birthday. Lindsey Longstaff -- my cousin and his grandaughter -- shares July 2nd with us. All three of us think that is special. Neat, isn't it?

Note added: This is Uncle Lawrence with Lindsey at their birthday celebration 7-2-10. He turned 87 that day and it was to be their last birthday together. Uncle Lawrence left for his eternal home in Glory on November 1. We will miss his dear and smiling face and his quick wit.

TVs Just Gets in the Way of FUN!

When Gramp and I were little kids we didn't know each other. He spent his "grammar school" (elementary) years in Custer Park, Illinois. But he thinks he started school in Owego, New York for just a bit before moving to Illinois when Grandpa Buza moved the family back to Custer Park to become the pastor of the Church where his mother had been a member.  Grampie remembers that move. It was before seat belts! That's right! Nobody was ever belted in. It was common for a little child to stand up in the front seat between mom and dad so he or she could see out the windshield!

Back to the trip from New York to Illinois: Grandpa had their belongings in a truck for the trip. All three of the boys and Grandma rode in the cab of the truck with Grandpa for that move. They didn't have a car, but even if they had, Grandma didn't drive. She didn't learn to drive until she was in her 70s if I recall correctly. In those days, the men usually drove everywhere and the ladies rode in the passenger seat.

Grampie said he remembers driving through Chicago with all of the family packed into the truck cab and he said Grandpa was afraid they would get pulled over for having too many people in the truck so the boys would duck their heads when they met traffic. Even so, it couldn't have been as treacherous driving through Chicago as it is now.

I started school in Littleton, Maine. It was a 2-room school called the Harrigan School. We went to a NEW school (Littleton Consolidated School) when I was in third grade. Pictured here, it sat across US Route 1 from our house. I felt like a very privileged kid going to the new school because I no longer had to walk a mile to school, there was a warm indoor bathroom, and I was able to walk home for lunch with Mama and my siblings every day.

I will tell you more about those early school days in another post. The only reason I am talking about school days and our early life right now is to bring up the point that we didn't have television or video games to get in the way of all our fun!

We had a ball in the great out-of-doors when we were children always running and playing tag, cops & robbers, hide and seek (you can't say cowboys & indians anymore but we played that, too), kick-the-can, and so much more! Your grandfather used to love going to his Aunt Beulah's and Uncle Carl's farm to play with his brothers and his cousins Jim and Gary on Friday nights.

One of my very favorite out-of-door activities was to play "house" under our plum and cherry trees. Under the over-hanging branches of those trees and behind the blackberry bushes that partly surrounded them, the earth was flat, bare, and hard-packed. We kept the leaves and grass swept from our "floor" and spent many hours decorating our retreat and making mud pies. The cows weren't fond of our "house" so they stayed away. But the dog and the cat took their places in the family. Cousin Andrea and I loved to put doll clothing on the cats and wheel them around in doll carriages, I remember.

Back in those days, we did board games, cards, popcorn, and fudge in the evenings. We loved to have someone read us books and tell us Bible stories. And we liked listening to the radio. I used to like a Sunday morning radio program with the Parschauers. He was president of New Brunswick Bible Institute and his daughters sang beautifully. I wrote for their picture once and one of the girls had beautiful braids. I loved that picture. When there wasn't anything else to do, there were funny radio shows like Amos and Andy, and some scary story with creeky door sounds. I think it was called the Inner Sanctum or something like that.

I know you like the computer, the video games, and other electronics -- and they really ARE fun, I'm sure. I'm so glad you live in warm houses and have showers and indoor bathrooms. It was always cold in our houses until the stoves were on. We didn't have furnaces when we were really young and we used to freeze half to death getting dressed on winter mornings. In many ways life was harder back in the 1940s and 1950s.

There are things in life that are better for you than they were for us, but I am sorry that you missed out on the kind of fun we used to have playing outside rain or shine, summer or winter. We used to have a fit when it was time to go inside. Can you imagine that?

A Smoke-Spewing Iron Monster

When I was a child, I could look out our kitchen window and see the train go past the Littleton station. The trees weren't as high back then and we had a fairly clear view of the passenger and freight trains as they passed about 1/2 mile from home.

Day and night, the Bangor and Aroostook Railway trains would blow their comical whistles on the way through. We could hear the chugging and see the great puffs of coal smoke and steam pouring skyward.

I rather liked those trains until the day my Dad returned to us from the US Navy. That day, I met the great black monster up close and personal for the first time. Only two at the time, my entire being was so absorbed with it's awfulness that I will never, ever forget it unless my mind stops functioning. And I have a feeling that might be among my last lucid thoughts if that ever happens.

It was an exciting day. My grandmother and her sister (my Aunt Ola) scrubbed me and shined me, dressed me in something nice, and combed my hair to perfection. My Daddy was coming home and my Mum had gone to meet him. They were about to come in to the Littleton Station by train. I was excited about seeing my parents and about seeing the train, too.

We loaded ourselves into Grampies's square-topped, 1930-something, black Oldsmobile and headed to the station -- probably a mile from Grammie's and Grampie's. Always fascinated by the car key, I watched and listened as its tag banged against the dashboard of the old car. Down over the hill we went and around the corner from US Route 1 onto the Station Road. We drove to the place where the tracks crossed the road. The picture above is of those very tracks when they were being repaired in the 1950s.

There was a rather wide platform that ran the length of the old train station and I was enjoying the scene from the comfort of my great aunt's arms, when suddenly they said, "here it comes"! You could see quite a distance down the track and here came the great, black engine with its one, big eye. It seemed to be rushing faster than a charging bull. And all of a sudden it became just as threatening as a charging bull -- maybe more so!

It huffed and puffed and wheezed at terrifying decibles. The platform began to vibrate and then shake violently. The brakes were hit and the iron wheels screamed along the rails. The horrific whistle blew, smoke and steam poured everywhere from it. I SCREAMED! I was terrified and I screamed again, as loudly as I could but I couldn't even hear myself scream. My eyes were wide with horror because that thing was going to get me. But wait!

Suddenly the tightness in my throat was gone and my heart and lungs began to catch a more normal rhythm. That's because I SAW someone -- someone was standing on the steps of the train, hanging onto the bar with one hand and waving wildly with the other. It was my DADDY! I was safe after all.

To my memory, his were the first feet on the platform and Mum was right behind him. Oh, what a happy day. And, yes! As  soon as we got back to Gram's and the excitement started to die down, he had a surprise for me.

As we gathered around, he sat in Grammie's rocker near her iron cook stove and dumped the contents of his white canvas sea bag onto the floor between his feet. At the VERY top of that pile of clothing and possessions was a familiar box -- the box of thin mints. And they were especially for ME. Well, I had to share them but they were MINE.

The Cutest Little Girl He Ever Saw

My father and mother met at a wedding when she was twelve and he was eighteen. I've told you the story about him walking up to her and telling her she was the cutest little girl he ever saw. Then he declared that he was going to wait until she grew up and he was going to marry her! She didn't like him very much for saying that.

I am sure he was just being a wise-guy. But the amazing thing is that eight years later there was another wedding: theirs! This picture was taken in the spring of 1942 shortly before they were married. At that time, he was making $1.00 a day working on a farm. And she made $15.00 a week as secretary to the clerk of courts for Aroostook County, Maine.

It is interesting to note that my parents were married on June 4, 1942 and that Grampie Wayne's parents were married on June 4, 1941. We always thought it would be neat to be married on June 4th, but when we became engaged in April of 1963 we couldn't afford a wedding by June 4th -- and we didn't want to wait until 1964! So we settled for August 27, 1963.

My mother and father were very happy together until November 8, 1956 when he died in a trucking accident. Early in their marriage, he was in the US Navy but they discharged him when I was about two. The discharge arrived at his base in Gulfport, Mississipi the same day that his orders arrived to ship out. Because his discharge arrived first, he was sent home to be a farmer and care for his wife and child.

They worked the farm, growing potatoes to market and raising vegetables, fruits and animals to feed us. Mom's skills at sewing, knitting, cooking, and making butter and cottage cheese contributed much to our welfare. One winter they took me to a relative's lumber camp, where my mother cooked for the crew and my Dad took care of the horses and other incidentals. It was a great winter for me. I loved sledding on the "tote road" on Sunday. And I loved riding my tricycle around the cook house the rest of the time.

I was 5 1/2 when my first sibling -- Aunt Carla -- arrived on January 13, 1949. On June 7, 1950 my first brother (Brian) joined us. And on May 1, 1952 my baby brother Clifford was born. They were great kids, but before long my toys took a great deal of punishment from babies and toddlers. I thought the toys were perfect before that, but they probably weren't.

Life on the farm, even a little one, is GREAT for children. I wasn't very fond of the chickens and turkeys (and I hated the geese). But I loved the ducks, the pigs, and the cows. Most of the cows were purchased from Grampie Ellery. I learned to help feed and water them and to milk them by hand and separate the milk. I didn't care so much about working in the house as in the barn and garden, but churning our cream into butter on Saturdays was a responsibility I really liked. When farming on the small scale (50 acres) became unprofitable, my father drove for a trucking company and was killed on the job.

All through my high school years, Mom was a single mother and did a wonderful job of caring for her family -- physically, materially, and spiritually.  She saw to it that we were always in Church on Sunday, had refreshing times at our little camp on the Lake and weeks at St John Valley Bible Camp every summer. But the five cattle and their calves had to be sold. I wanted so much for her to keep one or two, but Mom thought they were too much responsibility for me. I missed them terribly and I missed just being in the barn -- my favorite place to work!

I Really Was a Young Girl Once Upon a Time!

How do I talk about the fact that I wasn't always a grandmother?

It is true, though. I was actually born by C-section on July 2, 1943. Grammie Ruth could chose any day that week for my atypical entry into the world. So she chose her brother Lawrence's birthday. He turned 20 that day and he was with the United States Air Force, based in London during the Second World War. Back then, babies were often named after relatives who were in the armed forces and fighting for our country. Well, I couldn't take his NAME because I turned out to be a girl!

We lived on a little 50 acre farm while I was growing up. I liked our few cows and calves and absolutely hated the geese that my father had for awhile. They loved it when I went outside to the old hand pump to get a pail of water for our use inside. We had no water faucets back then, not in our house! One day when I was between 9 and 10 years old, the geese chased after me as usual. I screamed and started to run. They chased me with necks outstretched, wings flapping, bills open and hissing. They wanted to grab me in the worst way. It wasn't to be! Aunt Carla, my four-year-old sister grabbed a broom and chased them off into the distance. I could never figure out why they tormented me, but they were terrified of her. Can you???

I think the picture that I have labeled 1955 is actually 1957. I think it was taken when I was a freshman in high school just a year after my Dad died in a trucking accident. The picture from 1960 was my high school graduation picture. Don't you LOVE the goofy glasses??  I remember the dress that I wore in my 1947 picture. It was red and white and made from taffeta by my Grammie Muriel.I loved that dress. My Mom did my hair in the Shirley Temple ringlets, too. That was a long process and I always became very impatient with having her fix my hair. I didn't care if it was messy or not! I remember the 1945 dress, too. Mom says my grandmother made that one as well. It was a dusty pink color. I remember holding someone's hands to go up over the stairs to the studio where this was taken. It was taken to send to my Daddy when he was in the Navy.

I have quite a few real early memories. Someday I will tell you the story about when my Dad came back home from the Navy. (He brought me thin mints covered with chocolate and I still love those).

God's Choice For Me (and You)

This is YOUR grandfather! I suppose he didn't think much about being a grandfather back then. But he certainly became a good one for you.

I always figured I would grow up in Littleton and marry a farmer from somewhere around town -- a Christian farmer, for sure.  I wanted to take the agriculture course in high school so that I could be a GOOD and well-informed wife for a farmer. I didn't have one picked out but just figured that is the way it was going to be. God had different plans, though.

While I was growing up in Aroostook County, the boy God chose for me was growing up all over the place! He was born in Saugerties, New York on December 5, 1943. He did some growing up in places like Guatemala, CA, Custer Park, Illinois, South Owego, New York, and other towns where Grandpa Buza was pastor or missionary. During his high school years, he was living in Union Center, New York -- near Endicott -- and the Susquehanna River (a river that would play a role in our lives from 1963 to 1965 after we were married).

The adorable picture of him from 1945 was snatched from the family's US passport. Don't you think he was just a cute little guy? Even back then, he looked like a boy who could win your heart. Look at the EYES. It was ALWAYS his eyes -- still is. I love to look into his eyes. They are warm and approving of me and that makes me very happy.

So here he is: This is your grandfather as a toddler, a cub scout, a junior high kid, and a teenager. He was involved in his share of mischief (like going swimming in the creek without permission and digging for dinosaur bones in a mid-western corn field). But he lived a good and moral life and was more often than not an obedient son to his parents. I am very PROUD of the boy that he was way back before I met him.

More than anything, though, I am thankful that he is a devoted Christian. I am happy that he has always set a good example for our children. ("Do the right thing BECAUSE it is RIGHT.") He has always provided spiritual leadership in our home and worked hard to take care of us. I am SO PROUD of the man that I married.

It is impossible to understand why GOD was so good in giving Wayne to ME -- it is clearly by His grace and His grace alone. I cannot thank Him enough! I hope you thank the Lord, too, for giving you a grandfather who loves God and loves you with all of his heart.

Lazy Donkey Makes Good After All!

This book was published in 1944 when Gram was only 1 year old and it cost 19 cents. Pretty expensive, since back then your great grandfather made $1 a day working for a local farmer.

Probably Grammie Ruth got tired of reading this one to me, since I wore out the first copy and my parents had to replace it. But can't you tell from the cover that this was a charming, little book? It was a picture book, but if I recall correctly most of the pictures were printed in red and white.

NO-GOOD was always finding himself in trouble with the farmer, especially if there was any music playing when they went to the market with a cartload of goods. The happy-go-lucky little donkey loved to dance and he didn't like work that much. I remember that he went "clippety-clop, clippety clop" down the road. So when he danced and played, he was not in great favor with the farmer that owned him.

How do I feel about being lazy? Well, I don't recommend it. It is NOT a good thing to be lazy. It makes life hard for other people. And lazy people aren't happy because God created us to work. We should be willing to work hard at what we are asked to do. Why? Because GOD says that whatever we do, we should be doing it for GOD. That means we should do our very best. That means we shouldn't try to take the easy way out and selfishly leave the hard work for other people.

Yes, NO-GOOD goofed off and he shouldn't have done that. But NO-GOOD's day came at last when people saw him dancing and began to toss coins his way. Suddenly, as he gathered mounds of coins, the farmer thought the little donkey was pretty special after all. (It IS nice to be appreciated!)  From that time on, NO-GOOD was able to use his talents and make a profit at the same time. 

I called the book "Clippety-Clop". I guess my little mind loved the rhythm of those words being repeated. Or maybe I liked the whole idea of playing and having fun all the time. Of course when somebody 2 or 3 years old is playing, they ARE learning things that will help them and others all of their lives.

There are two lessons in this book that I want to pass along. Number one is that NOBODY has to be NO-GOOD! Everyone has gifts and talents that can be put to good use. That includes YOU. And it includes others. Don't put people down because they aren't good at sports or cooking. They are good at something else and we should appreciate it.

 Number two is to be thankful to the Lord for your gifts and talents and use them for good. Watch for the gifts you have been given and use them to bless others -- even put them to use in a career or in your home someday. Don't you think it would be great to make a living doing what you LOVE to do?

Just a few years ago, Aunt Valerie helped me to find a copy of THIS book and I am SO happy to have it!

The Most Beautiful House

The other night our girl Valerie dreamed about orange leather and wicker. It made her remember a rattan stool with an orange leather seat. And it caused her to remember the most beautiful house in the world, according to the eyes of her childhood. She likes to remember things like Grampie Ellery's chair, where Grammie sat -- things like that.

Four rattan stools with leather seats stood around the breakfast bar in Grammie Muriel's house. It was SUCH a child-friendly house! No wonder she remembers putting her face onto the leather seat, hanging onto the stool and spinning happily around. I think the beauty of Grammie's house was really the essence of HER, for she was gifted at making children very happy and comfortable where ever she was. I still remember the little frogs she could tie, using a handkerchief. Cat's cradle. And lots of simple, but awe-inspiring things!

Aunt Valerie (Mom to lots of you) said she remembers how the children LOVED to visit Grammie Muriel's house, but when it came meal time they would rather not eat there. That's when they wanted to go to Grammie Ruth's table!

It is a fact that Grammie Muriel's food (though abundant) wasn't as good as Grammie Ruth's. I think it is because Grammie Muriel was raising her children in the depression and because they were so poor it was rare to have all the needed ingredients for most recipes. So cooks of that era just learned to "make do" with what they had. Another thing is that she was adventurous and had no problem trying something new or innovative.

Grammie Ruth, on the other hand was into accounting and precision and doing everything right! If she didn't have a needed ingredient, she would scrap the idea and make something else. When money was tight, Grammie Ruth started a meal with biscuits and then figured out what to have with them. And it was always GOOD, especially her biscuits.

Great Grammie Buza and Great, Great Grammie Kitt were the best cooks in the grandmotherly line. Unfortunately, you didn't get to eat their food very often -- Grammie Buza lived far away for most of your childhood and Grammie Kitt had poor health.

I am certain that many of you all MUCH prefer not to eat at my house because I cook wierd stuff: things like asparagus and onions and pea soup. Our cheese is yellow and sharp. Our bread is whole grain. Our peanut butter is natural. Our mac and cheese is preferably the homemade kind and not out of a box. Things like that.

Hopefully what we lack in the food department is replaced by love -- we have lots of that to go around!

Unless The Lord Build The House, They Labor in Vain...

You came from families who loved the Lord Jesus and cherished the Bible. In the middle of this picture (Taken about 1962) are Grandpa and Grandma Buza. Grandpa was from Custer Park, Illinois and graduated from a Bible College in Johnson City, New York. Grandma Buza was from the Catskill Mountains region of New York and met Grandpa at Bible College. After they were married, they were pastor and wife and were also missionaries. They were Grampie Wayne's Mom and Dad.

At the left of this picture is Grammie Ruth Williams. She grew up on a farm in Littleton, Maine and graduated from Ricker College in Houlton. While she was a student at Ricker, she was involved in a group called Christian Endeavor. All through her life she was involved in Church and Christian camping ministries. She is Grammie Brenda's Mom. On the right is one of your great, great grandmothers. Grammie Muriel was born in Presque Isle, Maine but lived most of her life in Monticello and Littleton, Maine. She is the one who taught all of the children to memorize Bible verses and to pray.  Everyone who visited her house heard about Jesus and Heaven and how God loves us. She was involved in ministry to women and children in her Churches that she attended. She loved vacation Bible School and Sunday School. 

Thank the Lord for these grandparents and others who taught their children about Jesus and prayed for all of us before we were born. They weren't perfect. And neither are we, but without their love of God and their faithful lives as Christians, the story of OUR lives would probably be very different. Aren't you GLAD God had a plan for US to be born into a Christian family? I am. I am VERY glad and very thankful!

Carrots Are Such A Small Thing.

Could I give you some advice about being a parent? You might need it someday: Chill!

This is about a day when I made a carrot into a very BIG thing, when it was nothing at all. It was Nothing in comparison with the things that are really important in life. Like my children.

I was so excited to have pictures taken of our children -- one of the boys and one of the girls. We couldn't afford it very often, so this was a big day for me. And what nice Christmas presents these pictures would make, we thought.

Valerie, Marcia, and Bethany were dressed up, washed up, combed up, and ready to go when to my HORROR, I noticed that my dear, littlest girl had an orange mustache! "Why, oh why, did you have to eat a carrot when I had you all ready to have your picture taken?" I was a basket case. And if the inconvenience wasn't bad enough, the fact that it wouldn't wash off made it even worse.

I was miserable and totally OUT of control! What a waste of energy on my part just stressing over something so minor! Now I don't even see the carrot juice when I look at this picture more than 30 years later.  I just see precious faces and remember how blessed we were--and are--to have them in our lives (orange stains and all).

Living in Guatemala

Back in the 1940's your Grampie Wayne spent some of his pre-school life in Guatemala. He doesn't remember the name of the town but he thinks it may have been Guatemala City. Here he is in a hammock with his Mom and his two brothers (Carlin on the left and Joel in the middle).

They went to Guatemala to share the Good News of the gospel of Jesus with the people and so they had to learn Spanish. While missionaries in that country, Grandma and Grandpa Buza learned to love Guatemala and its people -- a love that endured for the rest of their lives.

While in Guatemala your grandfather and his Mom became very ill from amoebic dysentery. So ill, in fact, that the doctor said the only hope for them was to move back to a cold climate. Today, of course, there are medications to cure it.

Travel to and from Guatemala for them was by road, across Mexico and through the mountains. The trip from Guatemala to Illinois was a long and hard journey. Grandma told me that on that trip she was afraid that her little boy was going to die. There were times when she held her hand in front of his face trying to feel his breath to see if he was still alive. She and Grandpa prayed, asking the Lord to spare their son.

Of course God spared him because He already had a plan for him to be YOUR grandfather! God is SO good -- all the time.

Grammie and Grampie

We lived a couple of houses from Grammie Muriel and Grampie Ellery, so I saw them a lot. This picture of them was taken at Grammie Ruth's and Grampie Jim's wedding reception (June 16, 1961) -- the day after I graduated from high school.

Grammie was quite a story-teller. We loved to hear her talk about the "olden days" and her childhood adventures. We loved to hear about those old days because life was so different then. And the world was changing very fast.

Grampie was born in 1895. Back then and during the early part of his marriage, people went everywhere by horse and wagon or buggy. He owned the first truck in the town of Littleton, Maine. Actually, the truck he bought had no cab and no body. Those, he built for himself out of wood. There was a wooden bench in the cab for the driver and passenger and a bench on each side of the body for more passengers. In later years, it had a place of honor in the pasture behind the hen house. We loved to sit in it and dream of great adventures, a bit akin to Robert Lewis Stevenson's poems. You may have seen the drawing that Grammie Ruth did of that truck. I think most of your parents have a copy of it.

When I was a little kid, my grandparents' house was heated with wood. There was no bathroom inside. But they had a handpump at the sink for pumping in cold water. Water was kept hot in a tank on the wood stove and they had to hand dip that out for doing dishes and for taking a bath in a tin tub that was filled by hand and had to be carried outside to dump out! (Sorry, no showers! And baths were for Saturday nights.)

There was no TV but we loved the stories that were broadcast by radio. There were telephones and when I was really young my grandparents got electricity and no longer had to use oil lamps at night.

Vows Sweetly Spoken

On my birthday (July 2, 1963) my Mom's house was struck during a lightening storm and it burned to the ground. That was a sorrowful time, yet we were all very thankful that nobody was hurt but the family dog, who perished in the fire.

This was about six weeks before our wedding day -- and everything I had stored there for our wedding and for starting our new life was gone.

There was some sadness, but we all still had each other and we were very thankful for God's mercy and grace in keeping everyone safe. Mom insisted that we go on with our wedding plans. And we did!

Our wedding was simple but beautiful --
in my little home Church on the Lake Road

in Monticello, Maine. This little Church was built by my great grandfather "Bill" Nason. The steeple bell (which we rang at our ceremony) was purchased and donated by my great grandfather, David Nason. My cousin Annette played the organ, her husband Charles (Fore) performed the ceremony and my pastor (Philip Giberson) gave a charge on Christian marriage to Gramp and me. Annette's and Charles' daughter Anita was our flower girl. We are so blessed and so thankful that we grew up in Christian homes and were surrounded by  godly influences (family and otherwise).

That wedding was 47 years ago and we love each other more than ever. To us, our ceremony was sacred before God and it was a time to pledge our love before the Lord and the people assembled. It was a time to make lifelong commitments to each other, to God, to the home established on that day and to the family that God would give us by His grace.

Words from music sung by Sally Fye may tell you something about what was important to us then (and now): "Savior, like a shepherd lead us, much we need thy tender care. . . We are thine, thou dost befriend us, be the guardian of our way; keep thy flock, from sin defend us, seek us when we go astray. . . Early let us seek thy favor, early let us do thy will; blessed Lord and only Savior, with thy love our bosoms fill. Blessed Jesus, blessed Jesus! Thou hast loved us, love us still. . . "

And from the other song:  "Darling, the day has come that we've been dreaming of,

When at the altar white we'll say our vows of love . . . And, with the promises, we'll add this one, my Dear. Each for the other and both for the Lord. . . Vows sweetly spoken; may they never be broken; Each for the other, and both for the Lord." [In November of that same year (1963) Sally married Wayne's brother, Carlin. They are parents of four children and he had three children from a second marriage. ]

We were so young! 

As I said, I had turned twenty on July 2nd. Grampie Wayne was still 19 (his birthday is on December 5th). But we had finished our schooling, had a job, and knew in our hearts that God was calling us to a life together. I suppose people were concerned because we were young. (I have to be honest and say that I will be a bit nervous if any of you decide to be married at that age.)

But GOD has the final word in those things. So what has been our life from that day: has it always been easy?  No. Was it always moonlight and romance and sweet music? No. Has it always been right? Yes, yes! A thousand times YES! And YOU are part of the reason. Each one of YOU (children and grandchildren) is a very precious treasure.  You might like to know that once someone asked Gramp, "so what are you investing in?" His answer was simple and truthful from the heart: "My children".

A Decision of Great Importance

I REALLY wanted to marry your grandfather! He was a fine, Christian man and kind.  I believed he would make a wonderful husband and father -- and grandfather.

But I wanted to be SURE he was right for me. And who would know that better than my Mom. So when he asked I said, "yes". But I told him he needed to get my Mom's permission. That was VERY important to me.

He was scared, but he wrote to her and Grampie Jim. The response is good for YOU to see, as well, for you all will have (or now have) similar decisions to make:

Dear Wayne,
We received your letter yesterday. I have never answered a request of this type before.

We appreciate your consideration of us as Brenda’s parents. This fact is very commendable, and we admire you for it. This is a time, Wayne, when we find it difficult to answer in either the affirmative or negative. We shall hold this position that we won’t be "losing" our daughter, but we will be "gaining" a son. I assure you, Wayne, we are very happy to feel that we have faith in both yours and Brenda’s judgement. I’m certain you have prayed over the matter, as I have. Also knowing that you are both walking in the sunshine of God’s love, assures me that "all things work together for good to them that love God."

As parents, our greatest concern is that you love Brenda and she loves you enough to want to live your lives together, united as one.
 　
Of course, as all parents, we find it hard to realize the fact that our daughters and sons are "grown-up" enough to marry, and to accept the responsibilities of marriage. We know that marriage is really adult. However, it is natural to feel that our children are still "little girls and boys." We accept the fact, too, that they must grow up, so to speak, and we must have faith to trust that they have. Sentimental? Just a pull at parents’ hearts. We don’t mean to be selfish with our love, or over-protective, either. We really do want happiness and love for you both. Our loved ones here are only a loan from God, and we want for them the life God has planned for them.
Wayne, I really say this with all sincerity -- we couldn’t ask for more for Brenda than what you have to offer her. We hold you in high esteem for your love for her, for your Christian life, your wonderful parents to provide love and help for her, and your consideration of us. I pray, too, that we may be "your other parents" -- not merely "in-laws". We want you to know, too, that we shall consider you as a son, as Brenda is our daughter.

You thought your letter was "a mess". Wayne, we loved the informality of it, and the thought in it. Now I feel I’ve made a "mess" of this one. Just remember the central point in it -- that we trust the judgement and love of both you and Brenda, and that we will accept them in saying to you, "may God bless you both, and may your love for each other grow greater, and may you trust in God more fully than ever before in your lives."

With Love and Prayers,
Ruth & Jim Williams
　I know that if you have this love of yours, and you have your love for God, you have the zenith of power that will make a perfect life together, and that will give you courage to face any of life’s problems and discouragements together. There will be problems, perhaps not so much between you, as situations and circumstances that seem beyond our control. Therefore, it is so wonderful to know that you won’t be starting this completely new life alone, but with God as your guide and counsellor.

A House in Monroeton

This picture was taken in 2008. This is the house in Pennsylvania where we lived from the time we were married in 1963 until we moved to Maine in 1965. It cost us $70.00 a month to rent it and we had to pay our light bill and telephone bill.

When we lived in this house, it was white. The door at the right side of the porch went into the livingroom of our apartment.

In the downstairs, our livingroom, kitchen, and bathroom actually used to be a doctor's office at one time. It was a very pretty apartment with hardwood floors. We loved the old, clawfoot bathtub and the back porch.

When we first moved there, we didn't have much furniture -- almost none. Grandma and Grandpa Buza gave us an electric stove -- our own stove! The land lord loaned us a very warped dining table and a couple of chairs. We had no refrigerator, so we went to the store across the street to buy just enough food for each meal but we kept a few canned things in our broom closet. As the summer turned to fall, we found that milk kept ok overnight when we stored it between our kitchen door and the screen door going out onto our back porch. A refrigerator was our first major purchase, and it was a GREAT day when it arrived.

We bought an old black and white TV in a wooden cabinet. It had a round screen. Grandpa gave us his desk -- a huge, homemade one. We bought an over-stuffed chair at an auction. THAT was our livingroom furniture! I used to sit on Gramp's lap in our funky, green-colored chair to watch tv sometimes.

In our bedroom, we had a brass bed that we borrowed from some family friends -- and we bought a used mattress for it (I think $5). Our clothing was kept in the closet and in a clothes basket. Our other bedroom was empty for about 1 1/2 years -- and then we had to buy a crib for a certain beautiful baby girl that God sent to us! (Can you guess her name?)

But we didn't feel at all deprived in our almost empty house! (At least we weren't in debt). We were very happy and enjoyed our new life together in the beautiful Endless Mountains region of Pennsylvania, near the banks of the meandering Susquehanna River. God was (and always has been) good to us!

Grampie worked in the laboratory at Memorial Hospital in Towanda. I'm forgetting what he made, but it was under $100 a week. At first, I didn't have a job. But in a few weeks, the hospital hired me and trained me to be assistant to the dietician. It was interesting work, helping to make up patient meal trays, prepare menus, talk to patients about their special diets, and serve employees in the hospital dining room. I think the pay was 80 cents an hour! But we could buy enough groceries for a whole week for about $13.00 and gas was cheap -- less than 50 cents a gallon.

During our evenings, we drank waaaay too much Coke and ate waaaay too many chips with onion dip. We watched our little black and white tv, read books, and took walks. We didn't have enough money to do too much else, but once in awhile we would drive over to the nearest A&W and buy a root beer apiece, served in a frosty mug! And sometimes we would ride through some AWFUL back roads, just to see the deer and enjoy the wonderful scenery. You could ALWAYS see deer -- sometimes dozens of them at a time.

It Is A Love Story!

This is a love story. It is about your grandparents. It starts out with God's love for them. He had a plan for them. They didn't know what it was. There was no way they could know that His plan was for them to spend a lifetime together. In fact, they didn't even know about each other. But God knew them both. He knew where they were. He knew their names. He knew their hearts! 

THEY were both brought up by Christian parents and both trusted in Jesus as their  Savior at an early age. They BOTH wanted God's will in their lives.  They knew they should date and marry another Christian. So that was a commitment they made.

But HE was in New York and SHE was in Maine. They had never even heard of each other when they BOTH decided to go to Boston to study laboratory technology. That was in the fall of 1961.

At school, the instructor assigned them to be lab partners. Day after day they worked side-by-side. Little did they know back then that they would continue to work side-by-side for most of their laboratory years until they retired in 2009!

But more than that, they were partners in marriage, in parenthood, in ministry, and in retirement. Their children and YOU grandchildren have always been among their dearest treasures. You are worth far more than you can even imagine -- worth more to us than our very lives!

And the love story goes on ... between the two of us and extends out to all of YOU! God has a plan for YOU, too. Trust Him and see it unfold! We are praying for YOU.

Top left picture above: taken at the Machias Valley Christian School in the 1980s. Top right picture was taken the day we were officially engaged (ring on hand). Middle left -- in the 1970s; next photo just a few days after Stephen and Jeannie were married (1991); Next was at Grammie Ruth's and Grampie Jim's the night before we were married (1963); Bottom left -- 1980s; Bottom right - 25th anniversary celebration - 1988.

1971

Dear Grandchildren,

This blog is for you -- all about family. You all like stories of family, so here we go!

Why start with the day Jonathan came home from the hospital? Well, the answer is simple. It's a cute picture and the first one I came across when I started to look for something to share with you!

This picture was taken in the kitchen of our Marshfield house. Grammie Ruth and Grampie Jim stayed with "the kids" while I was in the Machias hospital. She had them all washed, dressed, and combed to welcome me back home and to welcome their new brother into the family.

The big sister had lost a couple of teeth! Kevin was "Mr. Shy Man". Marcia was so cute in her slightly-too-short tights. And Stephen was proud as punch! Of course, it would be almost three years before Bethany joined our family -- but weren't they all sweet?

Your grandfather, too.