The Ladies Page

The roadside sumac had begun to turn to fiery red and as we
traveilled through Northern Wisconsin the trees were torches of
color against the sky. The sun, however, was shy that day. He
seldom showed his face.

As we drove into more productive agricultural country we noted
wheat, still to be combined, large potato fields, soy beans, pinto
beans, even some corn. There were hundred acres fields, and some
even larger, producing millions of sunflower heads, which nodded to
us as we drove by. I expect some of these are used to feed our
winter cardinal visitors. At least, I like to think so.

We came upon acre upon acre of sugar beets, some of which were
topped and awaiting lifting. This was a new concept to these old
farmers. When we raised sugar beets they were lifted and then
topped by hand and thrown into piles. Migrant laborers did the
work. A sweet memory came back to me of the day I offered two
Mexican girls some of my roses as they finished their day’s
work. They were so pleased.

As we kept driving west we spotted the shelter belts which were
also new to us. Yes, we had heard about them, but now they became
reality. Row upon row of tall trees, shorter trees, large shrubs,
then smaller shrubs were all uniting in graduated rows to keep the
precious top soil from blowing away. In part of this area the
ground had been given a winter top cover to further aid their
efforts and to tuck it to bed. It made both of us feel so good
inside to see the soil being cherished and preserved now. There
were many years it was robbed and exploited. In the first years of
our marriage I remember the dark days when Dakota dust penetrated,
even to Wisconsin. I hung a wet sheet over my screen door in an
attempt to keep my new home clean.

Soil is such a valuable thing and has so often been misused. It
is the old story of taking our blessings for granted and thinking
there is no price to pay for them. But back to our trip.

The second night out we slept in Carrington, N. D. Forty-eight
years ago five Wisconsin young men slept in this same town on their
way to work on a threshing rig, and from there to follow the crew
into Canada. My husband is the only one of those five men who is
living today. He was the youngest of them., but nevertheless it
makes me cherish him the more.

On that trip he slept on an army cot out under the stars. The
other men spent the night in a Model T. Coupe and Touring Car. So
it was a real memory trip for him. A bit sad, I expect. We, of
course, had a comfortable room in the Le Claire Motel. It was
somewhat costlier sleeping.

The first trip he took there I was seventeen. I got a lot of
teasing about my sweetheart being gone so far away. Wasn’t I
lonesome? All in all we dated for seven years. Nowadays some young
people can’t wait for each other for a week.

The rest of the account of this trip will have to wait for
another time. Eating in that cook car was an experience. I want to
give it room. The comments by the ‘old threshermen’ were
something else. Nostalgia was sticking out all over the place.

Here, at home, we’ve just had a blessed weekend at our
church. We had some wonderful meetings after a twenty-four hour
vigil of prayer in the building itself. I had the incomparable joy
of being the chairman of the prayer effort and it really paid off.
God lives up to His promises. and His integrity is beyond question.
It is too bad so my people choose to live their lives without Him,
when all they have to do is come.