CHILDHOOD MEMORIES: POVERTY

(This series of ten blogs is personal and written primarily for the benefit of my grandchildren. Others may choose to skip them-or maybe even find them interesting.)

I grew up poor. I hasten to add that I was certainly not alone. Also I am deeply aware that there were and are millions who had/have much less than I. I recently checked on-line and found detailed records of the 1945 US Government census. That record showed that my father’s income for the previous year was listed at  $720.00 (although I seem to have the memory that while that was indeed the promised salary the local church he was serving was, in fact, unable to pay his total salary for that year).

I certainly never went hungry, but I remember things that I longed for. I wondered what it would be like to eat a complete candy bar. When Father went to Teachers Conference he would bring back a few candy bars (Baby Ruth, Butterfingers, or Milky Way). Mother would get out the kitchen knife and carefully cut the bar into 7 pieces and distribute them to my six siblings and me. Occasionally our neighborhood grocery store would display a box of seedless green grapes on the counter. My mouth salivated at the sight, but I could never possibly purchase any. Mother would on occasion make a banana pudding and I would stare at the banana and wonder what it would be like to have the luxury of eating a whole banana, all by myself. When at Christmastime the bag of goodies we got from our church was given us on Christmas Eve I spent a lot of time trying to decide as to when I wanted to chew that lone stick of gum that was enclosed. But I also knew that when dinner time came there would be meat and potatoes on the table and plenty of fresh milk

Mother insisted that we dress neatly and cleanly. She sewed much of the clothes, especially for my sisters and pants often had many patches. But they were clean and the white dress shirt my father wore as he taught each day was always starched and ironed. To this day I remember the really good-looking suit that was purchased for my confirmation ritual at church and that the suit cost $7.00 and was paid off over an agreed upon time period.

I went to one movie in the first 14 years of my life. Uncle Otto who wanted me to see Shirley Temple provided that. One of my most proud grade school projects was that somehow or other I collected enough Post Toasties box tops to send them in for a brand new 12-inch softball. I remember the day it arrived in the mail and how it was passed around at school and we learned to know what a new softball felt like. I never owned a storybook but my cousin Ben loaned me those small fat little Dick Tracy books. The 1927 Model A Ford we drove lasted us until Uncle Fred helped us get a new Chevy in l946.

One of the lessons my parents insisted upon was that we were not to ask for ”government relief” and I regret to say that we looked down disdainfully on those who were working in government sponsored relief programs like the WPA even though that government project provided us with our first in-the-ground cesspool outdoor privy.

Those early years of very limited money served me well. I learned to appreciate what I had, to enjoy the reality that the best things in life are free, that God always took care of me and that I was and am very richly blessed.

Childhood Memories: Faith Development

Note: This series of 10 blogs on Childhood Memories are intended primarily for my grandchildren; others may or may not find them to be of interest.)

Seven days after my birth my parents rustled me off to Zion Lutheran Church, Walburg, Texas where I was baptized into the Christian church. My mother duly noted in my Baby Boo that I “behaved well” when Pr. John Sieck performed the ritual and that I was dressed in the same white and pink dress in which my sister Leona had been baptized just two years earlier.

My parents took seriously their responsibility of nurturing the faith development of me as an infant and young child. I was immediately immersed in the daily rituals of morning and evening prayers, table grace, Bible reading and hymns.  Every morning and evening we had the ritual of Dad reading a section from the Bible, a reflection upon that text, a prepared prayer, and the pronouncement of the Aaronitic blessing.

My life was always in the context of the local congregation at which my Father served as school principal, organist, choir director, youth minister, etc. etc. Every Sunday found us at church where I was well monitored by Mother. In those days we “went to church” a lot. Every Sunday, midweek Lenten services for 6 weeks, church festivals that did not fall on a Sunday such as Christmas, the Holy Week Events, Ascension and Reformation Day. Mixed in were funerals, weddings, anniversaries, mission festivals and concerts. It was pretty much total immersion. If my memory is correct this was all fine with me and I enjoyed the rituals, was proud to get dressed up but very much resented having to wear shoes as that interfered with my nearly year round seven days a week of going barefooted. 

At age six I enrolled at the two-room Zion Lutheran School. Of course we started the day with religion class. It was classic Lutheran indoctrination with heavy focus on doctrine and dogma, always quoting Luther and Scripture (often even in that sequence). There were four (4) basic elements to this instruction: 1) Bible Stories (we all remember the blue covered book with the title  “100 Bible Stories”); 2) Martin Luther’s catechism and Dr. Schwan’s Explanation of the same; 3. Memory work. We memorized hundreds of Bible verses and Martin Luther’s Small Catechism; and 4 . Hymn singing as we sang every day usually in German and often in three-part harmony. 

I recall that instruction with appreciation. I learned the fundamentals of the Christian faith. I was taught very clearly that God is a God of Grace, that God is for me, not against me. I learned the virtues and rewards of leading a pious life. I learned that in God’s eyes I was special and that God had a dream that I would lead a productive, ethical life, sharing my faith, values and gifts with the world.

In retrospect I also see some things in my religious training that I now reject. The Bible was presented as needing to be interpreted very literally. I was taught that only my branch of the Lutheran Church had “the Word of God in all its truth and purity”. I learned little about anyone not of my very specific faith and denominational tradition. It was a very narrow view of the work of God and my role in the larger parts of God’s scheme for all of creation. I also was not introduced to some of the worship practices which I now wish I had developed, specifically meditation, contemplation or silence.

When I reflect deeply on my early religious training I must do so with very deep feelings of gratitude and appreciation. The seeds that were sewn went deep. I trust that they continue to bear fruit that endures into eternity.