A Story By Eddie Ogan: The Rich Family In Our Church

I am so inspired by this story! It is a story about sacrifice, gratitude, and finding joy. The way she tells it makes it exciting. She draws you in and makes one feel invested in their goal in a way that makes one cheer them on.

The Rich Family In Our Church 

By Eddie Ogan

I'll never forget Easter 1946. I was 14, my little sister Ocy 12, and my older sister Darlene 16. We lived at home with our mother, and the four of us knew what it was like to do without many things. My dad had died five years before, leaving Mom with seven school kids to raise and no money. By 1946, my older sisters were married, and my brothers had left home.

 A month before Easter, the pastor of our church announced that a special Easter offering would be taken to help a poor family. He asked everyone to save and give sacrificially. When we got home, we talked about what we could do. We decided to buy 50 pounds of potatoes and live on them for a month. This would allow us to save $20 of our grocery money for the offering. Then we thought that if we kept our electric lights turned out as much as possible and didn't listen to the radio, we'd save money on that month's electric bill. Darlene got as many house and yard cleaning jobs as possible, and both of us baby sat for everyone we could. For 15 cents, we could buy enough cotton loops to make three potholders to sell for $1. We made $20 on potholders.

 That month was one of the best of our lives. Every day we counted the money to see how much we had saved. At night we'd sit in the dark and talk about how the poor family was going to enjoy having the money the church would give them. We had about 80 people in our church, so we figured that whatever amount of money we had to give, the offering would surely be 20 times that much. After all, every Sunday the Pastor had reminded everyone to save for the sacrificial offering.

 The day before Easter, Ocy and I walked to the grocery store and got the manager to give us three crisp $20 bills and one $10 bill for all our change. We ran all the way home to show Mom and Darlene. We had never had so much money before. That night we were so excited we could hardly sleep. We didn't care that we wouldn't have new clothes for Easter; we had $70 for the sacrificial offering. We could hardly wait to get to church! On Sunday morning, rain was pouring. We didn't own an umbrella, and the church was over a mile from our home, but it didn't seem to matter how wet we got. Darlene had cardboard in her shoes to fill the holes. The cardboard came apart, and her feet got wet, but we sat in church proudly, despite how we looked. I heard some teenagers talking about the Smith girls having on their old dresses. I looked at them in their new clothes, and I felt so rich.

 When the sacrificial offering was taken, we were sitting on the second row from the front. Mom put in the $10 bill, and each of us girls put in a $20. As we walked home after church, we sang all the way. At lunch, Mom had a surprise for us. She had bought a dozen eggs, and we had boiled Easter eggs with our fried potatoes!

 Late that afternoon the minister drove up in his car. Mom went to the door, talked with him for a moment, and then came back with an envelope in her hand. We asked what it was, but she didn't say a word. She opened the envelope and out fell a bunch of money. There were three crisp $20 bills, one $10 bill, and seventeen $1 bills. Mom put the money back in the envelope. We didn't talk, but instead, just sat and stared at the floor. We had gone from feeling like millionaires to feeling like poor white trash.

 We kids had had such a happy life that we felt sorry for anyone who didn't have our mom and dad for parents and a house full of brothers and sisters and other kids visiting constantly. We thought it was fun to share silverware and see whether we got the fork or the spoon that night. We had two knives which we passed around to whoever needed them. I knew we didn't have a lot of things that other people had, but I'd never thought we were poor. That Easter Day I found out we were poor. The minister had brought us the money for the poor family, so we must be poor.

 I didn't like being poor. I looked at my dress and worn-out shoes and felt so ashamed that I didn't want to go back to church. Everyone there probably already knew we were poor! I thought about school. I was in the ninth grade and at the top of my class of over 100 students. I wondered if the kids at school knew we were poor. I decided I could quit school since I had finished the eighth grade. That was all the law required at that time.

 We sat in silence for a long time. Then it got dark, and we went to bed. All that week, we girls went to school and came home, and no one talked much. Finally on Saturday, Mom asked us what we wanted to do with the money. What did poor people do with money? We didn't know. We'd never known we were poor.

 We didn't want to go to church on Sunday, but Mom said we had to. Although it was a sunny day, we didn't talk on the way. Mom started to sing, but no one joined in and she only sang one verse. At church we had a missionary speaker. He talked about how churches in Africa made buildings out of sun-dried bricks, but they need money to buy roofs. He said $100 would put a roof on a church. The minister said, "Can't we all sacrifice to help these poor people?"

 We looked at each other and smiled for the first time in a week. Mom reached into her purse and pulled out the envelope. She passed it to Darlene. Darlene gave it to me, and I handed it to Ocy. Ocy put it in the offering plate. When the offering was counted, the minister announced that it was a little over $100. The missionary was excited. He hadn't expected such a large offering from our small church. He said, "You must have some rich people in this church."

 Suddenly it struck us! We had given $87 of that "little over $100." We were the rich family in the church! Hadn't the missionary said so? Deep down, I knew that we were actually a rich family.

Corn Dog Recipe!

This recipe is from some friends of mine who I came to know as a teenager. My family threw an annual county fair themed party when I was young. My family and many of our friends were heavily involved in the local 4-H county fair. After the fair had concluded my parents held a party for our friends that we called The Survival Of The Fair Party. The food that we made for the party was all the fair foods that we were too cheap to buy during the actual fair. I don't blame my parents for not buying us children fair food. There were 8 of us at the time and it would have cost them an arm and a leg to feed us all at fair prices. I can only remember eating an elephant ear from the fair one time and we had to split it up between us all.

That doesn't mean we were deprived, though. Mom could make us dozens of elephant ears at home for the price of one fair-priced-elephant-ear, and she did!

During the Survival Of The Fair Party we feasted on corn dogs, pork tenderloin sandwiches, Philly steak and sausage sandwiches, perogies, lemon shake ups, funnel cakes, and elephant ears! Everything was delicious! 

This is the corn dog recipe that we used.

One of our friends gave us this recipe to use for the Survival Of The Fair Party so this recipe bears their name. 

Whitesell's Corn Dog Recipe 

1 egg

1/2 c. milk

1 c. Bisquick (or into a 1 c. measurer add 2 t. baking powder, 2 t. sugar, 1/2 t. salt then fill the measuring cup the rest of the way with flour.)

2 TBS. cornmeal

1/2 t. dry mustard

1/4 t. paprika

1/8 t. pepper

3 TBS. sugar

1 lb. hot dogs

Mix the batter ingredients together.

Pat the hot dogs dry with a towel or paper towel.

Pour the batter into a tall glass or drinking cup. Using wooden skewers dip the hot dogs into the batter.

Deep fry at 375° F. until golden brown.

For mini corn dog bites:

Cut the dried off hot dogs into 1/4ers.

Using a fork dip each hotdog piece into the batter and then slide it off of the fork into the hot oil. Fry until golden brown. Drain on paper towel before serving.

Have I Found The Key To Laundry?

 

Am I so presumptuous to claim that I have found the key to the looming task that is LAUNDRY? Du...Du....Dah... (Dramatic music)

Perhaps not everyone loathes laundry as much as I do. (as much as I did) I used to say many times a week, "I hate laundry. I hate folding clothes!" 

It dawned on me in back in December that chanting, "I hate laundry. I hate folding clothes!" probably wasn't a healthy habit. I was reenforcing and entrenching a pathway of thinking that was unhelpful to me. The more I said it the more it became true.

My Grandma told a story of how that when she was a little girl she hated Ox Tail Soup. She had the poor judgment to say out loud how much she hated Ox Tail Soup when it was served to her one supper time. Her Daddy said, "There are staving children around the world who would be happy to eat Ox Tail Soup." She had a smart alec retort: "Well then send it to them!" Her Daddy made her say, "I love Ox Tail Soup." every time she took a bite. And every time Ox Tail Soup was served she had to say, "I love Ox Tail Soup." And Ox Tail Soup became her favorite soup. Right up to old age she said Ox Tail Soup was one of her favorites.

I experienced something similar with eating tomatoes. When I was a girl I hated tomatoes. They made my stomach turn. When that slimy gel surrounding the seeds in a tomato hit my tongue it made me gag and want to puke. They were acidic gross little fruits not meant for human consumption in my opinion. When I was 10 I decided that I was too old to be a picky eater anymore. I made a resolution to like tomatoes. My rule for myself was that every time tomatoes were available I would take one on my plate and eat it. Cherry tomatoes in salads and vegetable trays, sliced tomatoes on sandwiches and just as a side I now took every opportunity to eat. Before long I got accustomed to the texture and flavor and eventually learned to like tomatoes. Today I love tomatoes!

These stories testify that you can change your feelings towards things. Your mind is in control of your feelings. 

The Psalms show this too. How often does the psalmist say, 

"I will rejoice," 

"I will praise," 

"I will declare," 

"I will not fear," 

"I will offer," 

"I will sing," 

"I will arise," 

"I will be glad," 

"I will give thanks," 

"I will trust,"

"I will hope,"

.......?

There is no mention of being filled with joy prior to the declaration, "I will rejoice." The goodness of God is the only fact that precedes this rejoicing, or gladness, or praise, or trust, or hope. No feelings are mentioned, only a declaration of an action that the psalmist will take: 

"I will rejoice."

"I will praise."

"I will declare."

"I will not fear."

"I will offer."

"I will sing."

"I will arise."

"I will be glad."

"I will give thanks."

"I will trust."

"I will hope."

I was in the midst of a smoldering depression one time when I read Psalm 28:7

"The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusted in him, and I am helped: therefore my heart greatly rejoiceth; and with my song will I praise him."

And I thought, "I can't rejoice." "I can't praise." This verse is not for me now.

Then I read Psalm 70:4

"Let all those that seek thee rejoice and be glad in thee: and let such as love thy salvation say continually, Let God be magnified."

I began to realize the ball was in my court. It was up to me to rejoice. It was up to me to change my feelings. One of the key factors to changing your feelings, based on these and other verses, seems to be changing your words.

Now we are getting back around to the laundry topic...... My feelings towards laundry needed to change. To rephrase that, I needed to change my feelings towards my job of laundry. I decided to start with the words coming out of my mouth. I made two rules: 1) no saying, "I hate laundry," and 2) everytime I fold a piece of laundry I would say, "I love folding (insert child's name) pants." "I love folding so and so's shirts." And so on and so forth.

Everytime I say, "I love folding Mr. In The Mid-west's t-shirts," or, "I love folding the baby's onesies," my heart warms a little. A surge of satisfaction with my own work wells up inside of me. I hear my family members names and I am reminded of how much I love each of them. I am forced to recognize what a rich life I am blessed to be living. Slowly, I am learning to like folding laundry. Forbidding spoken complaints and instead requiring spoken gratitude has led my feelings. I am changing my mind by changing my language. And that is the key to laundry for me. I have been able to conquer the laundry mountain and keep it in check since implementing this technique. This is a huge victory for me! Perhaps you will be intrigued to give this method a try in any areas that you are struggling to overcome.

Proverbs 15:23
A man hath joy by the answer of his mouth:
 and a word spoken in due season, 
how good is it! 

Mr. In The Mid-west's All Time Favorite Oatmeal Cookie Recipe!

 

This recipe is a childhood favorite of Mr. In The Mid-west's. I acquired the recipe recently from one of his sisters. She messaged me and said something like, "You mentioned in the past that (his name) would like to have the oatmeal cookie recipe. I came across it last night in one of my recipe books, so here it is........."

I kid you not, less than 30 minutes before she sent me that message Mr In The Mid-west had said to me, "We really need to get my family's oatmeal cookie recipe. Those sound really good right now!"

When the message and recipe came through from his sister. I told him, "You're not going to believe this! Your sister just sent me the recipe. I didn't say anything to her about you wanting the recipe a few minutes ago!"

Backpack Oatmeal Cookies

3/4 cup vegetable oil

1 cup brown sugar

2 eggs

1 tsp. vanilla

1 1/2 cups flour

1 cup oatmeal (old fashioned is ideal but quick oats work fine.)

1 1/2 tsp. baking powder

1/2 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. cinnamon

1 cup walnuts (optional)

In a large bowl, combine the oil, sugar, eggs and vanilla, beat with a spoon until well mixed. 

In another bowl combine the flour, oatmeal, baking powder, salt, and cinnamon. Mix well. 

Combine the dry ingredients with the oil mixture. 

Drop by rounded tablespoons onto a greased cookie sheet. Bake at 350°F. for 10-12 minutes, or until lightly browned on bottoms.

Sewing Sloth Lovies | Off To A Slow Start

"Bwhaahahah!"

You know how long I've been trying to come up with a title?

This project has not gone to plan. I had planned to have 4 Sloth Lovies made by now, all finished with pictures to show you. The reality is that I don't even have 1 finished. 

I thought of using the title:

Sewing Sloth Lovies | Grand Plans Mediocre Results

Then I thought of:

Sewing Sloth Lovies | Off To A Slow Start

Wait......

Wait for it........

The pun dawn's on me:
 "Hahahahaha!"
I'm slow in more than one way!
Insert> "More cackling."

Excuse me while I laugh at my own jokes.......
Boy, did I need that laugh! 
I guess you can tell by now that I have been a little discouraged. Nothing like laughter to lift the spirits!

Proverbs 15:13

A merry heart maketh a cheerful countenance:

 but by sorrow of the heart the spirit is broken.

Here's the story on the sloths:

I have saved this pattern from a Pinterest post years ago. I have finally gotten around to trying it. 

Aren't these sloths just the cutest things?

The pattern is a free download from (a site I can't remember right now.) I will get the link and share it HERE.

I printed off all the pieces.

I went fabric "shopping" in my stash.

Turning a sack full of sloth toes right side out.

Details of the face.

Tune in later to see the finished project! I will finish. I know I will. A minute here, a minute there. Slowly, but surely I will get done.

And, that is the moral of the story; never give up!

Any of you out there have weeks that you feel like you can't make any progress? Don't be discouraged. Focus on your priorities and the periphery aspects of life (like sewing projects) will work themselves out. 

Brief Birth Story For Baby #4

 What A Baby Costs

By Edgar Albert Guest

"How much do babies cost?" said he

The other night upon my knee;

And then I said: "They cost a lot;

A lot of watching by a cot,

A lot of sleepless hours and care,

A lot of heartache and despair,

A lot of fear and trying dread,

And sometimes many tears are shed

In payment for our babies small,

But every one is worth it all.

"For babies people have to pay

A heavy price from day to day--

There is no way to get one cheap.

Why, sometimes when they're fast asleep

You have to get up in the night

And go and see that they're all right.

But what they cost in constant care

And worry, does not half compare

With what they bring of joy and bliss...

You'd pay much more for just a kiss.

"Who buys a baby has to pay

A portion of the bill each day;

He has to give his time and thought

Unto the little one he's bought.

He has to stand a lot of pain

Inside his heart and not complain;

And pay with lonely days and sad

For all the happy hours he's had.

All this a baby costs, and yet

His smile is worth it all, you bet."

I normally don't share personal information such as birth stories on this blog, but since I have shared more pregnancy related topics this time around I will go ahead and recount a brief description of the labor and delivery of my most recent child.

This pregnancy was my most difficult pregnancy so far. It culminated in the most easy delivery that I have had with any of my children. It brings to mind this verse from Ecclesiastes:

Ecclesiastes 7:8

Better is the end of a thing than the beginning thereof: and the patient in spirit is better than the proud in spirit.

Baby #4 was born at 41+3 weeks. I wasn't surprised at all to be overdue. All of my children have been born a week or more past their due dates. I always expect to go late.

I was having contractions through the night, but I was ignoring them and able to sleep pretty well.

When I woke up at 5:36a.m. my waters ruptured. I called the midwife. Then I woke up Mr. In The Mid-west.

The children started waking up. Mr. In The Mid-west was cleaning the house to get ready for people to show up. He was also getting the children ready to leave. I was packing clothes for the children and cleaning the bathroom and brushing Dear Daughter's hair between contractions. I wasn't timing them, but I could tell they were getting close.

The midwife called at 6:37a.m. to see what contractions were like. I timed a few. They were 2 minutes apart and a minute long! She said she would leave her house and head our way. It's an 1 1/2 hour drive, by the way.

Around 7a.m. is when I felt like I was going through transition. Around 7 is also when my Mother-in-law got to our house to pick up the children.

I went to lay down. I usually get really sleepy after transition and experience a welcome respite before the really hard part starts.

The midwife got here at 8:20. She made it! I was starting to do little, teeny tiny, pushes. May be I should describe it as slightly bearing down. But I really didn't want to push. The midwife checked and said I had a cervical lip. I tried a squatting type position for 2-3 contractions. I wasn't holding myself up on my own. Mr. In The Mid-west was holding me up by holding me under my arms and I was just dangling in a squatting position. That worked. The lip was gone and I could push the baby out. I like to be on my knees, leaning into the bed for that part. Baby #4 was born at 8:46a.m! 3 hours of labor. Not bad at all! :) 

I am grateful that everything went well. I am also glad that it is all over. I have been enjoying getting to know our newest little bundle of joy! :)

I Needed A Sewing Machine!

I made this story lengthy. I wanted to remember the details. In the future I will be able to look back on this and praise God for his provision and be encouraged to depend on Him.

Two months ago I was working on a jean rag quilt. (I posted about it HERE.) I was really looking forward to getting it finished. My sewing machine started to give me trouble as I was working on the quilt. It is a 1980's Kenmore machine. My Great Aunt gave it to me when I was a teenager. I had to have it serviced 3 years ago. It had quit working then because a part had broken. This time my sewing machine stopped working after a 40 minute sewing session. About 9 months ago it started doing this. I could sew for 40 minutes and then had to stop. The working time has gradually dropped off from 40 minutes to 30 minutes to 15 minutes to 10 minutes to 5 minutes to not at all. I couldn't finish my Rag Quilt. Right around the time that post about my quilt went live I took my machine to the repair man. The repair man I go to does estimates on each job beforehand and gives you the option to get it fixed or take it elsewhere once you hear the price. I was hoping that my machine would just need something simple like a cleaning and greasing. I called after a week had gone by to get the estimate. He said my sewing machine needed a bobbin assembly and some other part. Calculating parts, labor, and taxes the total would be $133 and some odd change. I wasn't prepared to spend that at the time and told him to hold off on the repair. I had a few things running through my mind. What if my machine is just old and has other parts ready to give out. If I get it fixed, how long will it last before something else breaks? I contemplated my options. I thought maybe I should consider it a business expense and pay for it with my Etsy money. If I got it fixed maybe it would work long enough for me to make the amount of money I would need to buy a new machine. I thought perhaps I should do hand sewing projects to sell until I had saved enough money from the proceeds to buy a sewing machine or fix mine. I wondered if I would be able to find a good sewing machine for a good deal at a garage sale or thrift store. And, how long would it be before I found one? I prayed that the Lord would help me make the best decision. In the mean time I packed up my Rag Quilt pieces and started some hand sewing projects. 

After a couple of weeks I got a call from Mr. In The Mid-west. He was on his way out of town to go to a job. He had stopped at a thrift store before he left town and saw a couple sewing machines.  I was glad to hear that information and thought perhaps this was my answer to prayer. I gathered a spool of thread, a bobbin, and some fabric to try out a sewing machine. I loaded the children up and headed to the thrift store. One of the sewing machines was an Elna priced at $15 and said, "As is." It had a sticker on it from the sewing machine repair man that I go to.  I figured someone had gotten an estimate and decided not to fix it but donated it to the thrift store instead. The other sewing machine was a Singer priced at $30. Not too bad. I asked at the front desk if I could have it plugged in to test out. One of the ladies there carried the machine over to the counter for me and plugged it in. We found that the thread spindle was snapped off, but I didn't think that was a big deal.

 I didn't end up getting to test it, though, because it didn't have a needle and I had forgotten to bring one with me.

 The woman helping me said they do have a lady that tests the machines before they are put out for sale. They also give you 7 days to return an item. I was satisfied with that knowledge and said I would buy the sewing machine. Before I checked out, though, I wanted to shop some more. I found a few things that I needed and went back with my selections to check out. A different lady was at the counter and when I walked up I let her know that I was purchasing the sewing machine also. She rung up my items and said my total was $13 and some change. I said once again that I was also purchasing the sewing machine. She said she knew and it was half off because the tag was red. Half off of $30 is still more than $13. I thought that one of the ladies must have discounted it due to the snapped off thread spindle. I was so grateful! I said, "Praise the Lord," because I was so excited, and then opened my wallet to pay my bill. That is when, you won't believe it, I hardly believed it, a woman who was a customer checking out next to me said, "I'll pay her bill." I was taken aback. She reiterated, "I'll pay for her." I was so thankful! I thanked her and blessed her. What a sweet woman! I have wondered if the woman heard me say, "Praise the Lord,"and that made her want to pay my bill. Or, maybe she liked that I wasn't wearing a mask* (she was also not wearing a mask). Maybe she took pity on me because I was wrangling three little children. Or, maybe, she was tired of waiting on me and my unruly children. Maybe she was just a nice lady and out of the kindness of her heart she wanted to help me. It is probably best that I never know. I feel like I did not do anything to deserve her kindness. I can thank God for using her to bless me and ask God to bless her in return.

 That is how I came to have a new sewing machine. I hope to finish my Rag Quilt soon and show you all some pictures. I hope you have been encouraged to hear how God used this nameless woman to provided my needs. Another thing to take away from this story is a desire to be that nameless woman. She didn't prescreen me and find out if I was truly in need. She didn't make sure my beliefs lined up with her's before she decided to do a good deed for me. She didn't have any strings attached to her gift. She wasn't looking for glory or fame. She was kind and generous. Let us strive to be more kind and generous.

Matthew 6:3+4
But when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth: That thine alms may be in secret: and thy Father which seeth in secret himself shall reward thee openly.

* This event took place during the 2020 Corona Virus mania.