The Ladies Page


| March/April 1960



Country Echoes

By MAE BABER, R.D.2, Brandon, Wisconsin

Monday morning, some might say, is meant for doing the family washing and nothing more. Perhaps I should also be that practical. Here on this Wisconsin Monday morning a small washing is waiting for me but somehow I feel more like chatting with my friends of Country Echoes. (I trust I have some friends among you.) The inspiration gained from both services yesterday is still with me and what a blessing they were! On a morning such as this my heart goes out to those who are starting a new week without the fragrance of a freshly washed soul. Isn't it rather a coincidence that we get our souls washed on Sunday and most of us wash our clothes on Monday? Two washdays following one another -- one spiritual and the other material.

This morning as we gathered for prayer after breakfast we prayed the Lord would help us to see how much we need to keep our spiritual life at a high level during the week lest we rundown before the next Sunday. How often we don't put enough prayer into the fire boxes of our lives! So frequently

the embers become so dim and lifeless in our hearts that we just do not have any steam at all. If there is anything on earth any more dead than a long faced Christian who has let the fire of love and compassion go out in his heart I have yet to meet it. It is even worse than a steam engine without steam or a car that won't run when you need it.

During the past several weeks, each time I decide to take our lowly Chevrolet for a run up the road to the home of our son and daughter-in-law who live next door, or to the village four miles beyond, the pesky thing has a way of stopping as soon as I get on the road. My husband tells me it is the driver, and that may very well be. I will admit I have given him a few sooty glances because of his remarks. I am more inclined to blame the automatic choke for a lack of co-operation. One thing I know - that car and I aren't having the close kinship we once had. I have always liked to drive very much. It is my blundering on this end and a lack of fuel coming in on the other end that is causing the difficulty. One morning I ended my journey next door on foot followed of all things by my loving husband who was driving said car and it was purring obediently. With a sly little wave of his hand he parked it for my return and left in the farm truck. I groaned as I entered the door to have my little granddaughter give me a big welcoming smile. One of these days a column will come through telling about her unusual arrival. She is our first one and we are proud as can be.