Grandma's Story - Chapter Two

My Mother

My Mother with her only Canadian sister-in-law, Tante Jannigje (and me)

My mother's name was Hillegonda Dina Verduyn. She was always a very busy farmer's wife and mother. As I was one of the younger in our family, I have no memories of her as a young mother because she was an Oma a year after I was born. But I know from all the stories I've heard from my father and brothers and sisters that she was relentlessly hardworking. And that is how I remember her as well from my earliest recollection of daily life, her hands were never idle. Her favorite saying was that "idle hands were the devils tools" so I was taught to keep busy at a very young age. Having ten brothers living at home most of the time made for a lot of chores, and it was my job to peel a large bucket of potatoes almost every day. I also learned to iron all the white sunday shirts every week, plus a huge roll of aprons, tea towels, handkerchiefs and what ever else there was to iron. Once a week I had to polish a whole row of sunday shoes as well and then there was the never ending piles of dishwashing and drying. Of course I was stuck in the house with all the mundane boring housework chores while I jealously watched my brothers run outside doing all the "fun" work. I have very vivid memories of my mother using every possible moment to knit a few more stitches, even while my father was leading the family in Bible reading and devotions, which I found very disrespectful.
My mother was a stickler for cleanliness and routine. Every spring the entire house had to be scrubbed top to bottom, inside and out, before May 10 which was my father's birthday. In the fall it all happened again before thanksgiving day.
What I appreciated most about my mother is how determined she was to see that we understood our advantages of having a biblical upbringing and that we learned to live out what we were taught to believe. She was especially firm in teaching us the value of our infant baptism and our covenant privileges.
My mother LOVED doing needlework, and she produced so many pieces of beautiful cross stitch wall hangings and crocheted doilies and tablecloths. She made many articles as gifts for her children and grandchildren, and even more for the yearly sales for missions or school fund raisers. She also knit hundreds of pair of socks, and I don't even know what else. Apparently she did knit and sew a lot of clothes for the oldest of my siblings, but not as much for me anymore. She taught me to knit when I was about 6 years old, and I hated it back then, but she was very persistent and she had me sit down to knit 10 rows each evening so my first project, a scarf, took about a year to finish. Eventually I did start to like all kinds of needlework and I am so glad that she taught me. She also taught me to sew, my first projects were patches on my dad's and brother's blue jeans. It didn't take me long to figure out how to sew new clothes for myself so I had a real advantage in Sewing class in grade 7. I often think of her when I'm busy with my needlework projects and wish she could see them.
My mother passed away 6 years ago, in 1995 at almost 89 years old. She had her first child on Ocotber 30, 1938, and her youngest son was married on October 28, 1988, which means that she had children in her care and in her house for two days shy of fifty years! She had fifteen children, and fourteen are still alive and well. One daughter, my sister Judith, passed away just before her fourth birthday, and was buried in Holland. Two years later my parents moved the family across the ocean to begin their new life in Canada. One year later I was born and according to dutch family tradition, I was given the same name as my sister.

Grandma's Story - Chapter One

My father, myself and brother Marinus 1959



Me... Judith Slingerland, born May 2, 1957

 Hello! My assignment as a Grandmother is to tell my story for my grandchildren at the request of my dutch daughter, Joyce, for her children. As promised I will make an attempt to blog this story for you all, as God gives me the opportunity.
My name is Judith Den Hertog, Judith Slingerland was the name given to me at birth, but I was called Judy all my life. I was born on May 2, 1957 in Lethbridge, Alberta. I was baptized by Rev. Van Zweden in the NRC church of Coalhurst, (Lethbridge) Alberta.

My Family Tree
My Father: Maarten Slingerland, born May 10, 1917. He was the youngest of a family of 13. Opa is now 94 years old and one living brother is now 97.
My Mother: Hillegonda Dina Verduyn, born June 13, 1917 -passed away May 30, 2005. She was the fifth child of a family of 12, but 2 of her siblings died in early childhood, and only one sister is still alive now.
My parents were married on June 29, 1938.

My Fathers parents: Jacob Slingerland, born July 6, 1869 - passed away July 19, 1963, and Jannigje de Jong, born May 30, 1874 - passed away November, 27, 1946.

My Mothers parents: Aris Verduyn, born February 6, 1884 - passed awayFebruary 15, 1944, and Geertje de Jong, born February 2, 1886 - passed away June 16, 1946.

My Father
My father's name was Maarten, but when he came to Canada his name was changed to Martin. He grew up on a farm in Holland and was always a farmer until he retired in 1978 when he moved off the farm and bought a house in the town of Coaldale, where they lived for a few years. Now he lives on Uncle Wim's farm in a house built especially for him and Oma.
     My father is a quiet man, and he was always a sincere and earnest role model for me. He lived a prayerful life, I often remembered that he would go into his room after the early morning chores to spend some time with the Lord.
    What I remember most about him during the years that we lived on the farm, was the burden he carried for the church he loved and the people he was called to serve as an Elder in the church. He struggled to learn the english language because he had to lead the church services and teach catechism classes. I admired him so much! He always asked me to help him study the sermon and the lessons and I felt so proud that he did such an amazing job although he always felt it wasn't good enough. His love for the Lord helped him through those years, and I know that the Lord was always there to help him.
    My Dad would let us go with him when he went to town to run errands and he would always treat us to a soft ice-cream cone! He was very patient with me and taught me so many things, he always wanted me to be included in everything that was happening, he taught me to drive a tractor and milk cows, feed calves, paint the barn and how to drive - long before I was old enough to have a driver's license.
    One moment I will never forget when I was nine years old, was when we were driving to the hospital because I was scheduled for surgery. My mother was scared, and worried because she thought I could die in surgery, but my Dad in his quiet way said that I was in God's Hands and I would be safe. The way he said it, made me feel how close he walked with the Lord.
      My Dad was a very generous man, and he made sure that we always had what we needed, even though there often was not much extra money. He had a way of finding a good bargain and it was always as if it came as an answer to prayer. When I was sixteen, he brought home a car he had found somehow for very little money, and he dropped the keys in my lap and said: "it's yours". I had been driving for a few years already, because we were allowed to get our learner's permit as soon as we turned 14.

       In 1974, we went for a road trip, my parents, (aunt) Arlene, who was my best friend, and myself, and Dad and I took turns driving all the way to Ontario, Michigan, Wisconsin, South Dakota, Iowa and Montana, a trip that took almost 4 weeks. Another extended trip I was allowed to make with my parents and my younger brother Marinus was in 1967 to Holland for 5 weeks, when we had to make a memorable emergency landing in Churchill, Manitoba in winter conditions, and another trip to Holland when I was 17 with my parents and sisters because my sister Jannie was getting married.

       My father has a wonderful sense of humor and always managed to find a light side to every situation. He's also a great story teller! Always ready to sit back and bring old memories alive. And he's famous for his writing... letters, letters, and more letters.... and his journals are still kept up to date helping him to keep track of birthdays, anniversaries, babies, graduations, and every thing else that transpires in the life of his many children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. He has a remarkable memory for names even though his family has grown to be so large.
      My father was a bit apprehensive, but also excited when we decided to buy a chicken farm in 1995. He had a hatching egg farm in Holland and he knew how challenging this business could be, having lost his farm due to disease and financial trouble. He was able to come to visit us together with Oma about twice a year until 1999. Then Oma's health began to decline and he was dedicated to care for her until her death, but in 2009 he made one more short visit to Chilliwack to see us. My one regret for all the years we have lived in BC has been that we were not able to visit them more often, especially once we started farming.
      Opa Slingerland is still a very healthy and active man for his age, he still lives on his own and he still drives his car into town to pick up his mail and his groceries, or to drive around the country side to check on the farms. We are so blessed to have such a Godly patriach to this huge family, one who has prayed unceasingly for everyone of us.
      My Dad is a very special man, I love him dearly and know that when Jesus comes to take him home, he will be sorely missed.



My father on his last visit to Chilliwack, July 2009, with our sons Brian and John



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Mariëlle

Well, here goes... I've been contemplating for days how I was going to get started on this blog/journal. I think I'll start with writing a bit about Marielle. She's the oldest of our three dutch Grand-daughters, and with Holland being 9 time zones away, she's already celebrating her 6th birthday. It's still an idea that is hard to get used to, not to be able to celebrate with our precious grand-daughters when they have a birthday. It was very special to recently spend 10 wonderful days with them, getting to know them a little better, seeing them at their best and at their not-so-good moments... Tomorrow morning we hope to celebrate by way of Skype, Sarah and Anne-Marie hope to come over with their children so that we can all wish her a Happy Birthday, while Marielle blows out the candles on her cakes. It's quite an improvement from any previous years, but as they get older it's more and more important to strengthen the bonds between them and us, and their cousins. We are very thankful that Jacco used the gifts he recieved for his birthday to buy and set up a webcam and a new monitor, although I can't imagine being on a screen in their living room that makes us bigger than life size!

So what can I tell you about Marielle? She's sweet, she's smart, she's very self confident, somewhat strong willed, and very sociable. She also tends to get her feelings hurt when she needs discipline, so she is quite sensitive. She reminds me so much of her mother as a girl, and shows a strong independence. Definitely the oldest sister! She's brave enough to pull out her own tooth when it's wiggly... the first one came out the first day we were there, and last week she had to show us that she'd pulled the second one out. She's an amazing biker! We made a couple of bike trips and she pedaled bravely along up to 10 or 11 km at a time!

We bought a set called Poingo for them, and were amazed at how well she picked up on learning the English words and meanings. That was so cool! She has picked up enough English from her trip to visit us in 2010, that she quite easily understands us when we speak to her and even answers in English after only a slight hesitation.

We were invited to go and see her school, a brand new building. Her classroom was so cool, all outfitted with the newest technology. Her teacher asked her how her Grandpa and Grandma came (to visit) and her answer was: "by bike", not the answer the teacher was expecting that we had come by airplane.

On behalf of the three grand-daughters, Jocelyn had bought a booklet for me that is going to be my homework assignment. It's called: "Oma, dit boek wil ik terug" which means: "Grandma, I want this book back". What is it? Well, it's filled with questions that I have to answer so that as they grow up, they will have a personal account of all the things that are important to me, such as: my personal information, my family tree, some facts about my parents, grandparents and our relationships, and many questions of a personal nature regarding my childhood, my marriage and motherhood and my faith. Seeing that the booklet is dutch and most of our grandchildren only will be learning to read English, I feel that as I go through this booklet I should blog my entries in English. It's going to be quite a challenge, as some of the answers will be very personal.

A new beginning - my first ever blog!

Hello! I am going to begin a blog, it's all new to me so be patient. Hope to learn as I go, but my desire is to journal as we share about our life, our family, and the many blessings we enjoy.
That's all for now, God bless you all and good night!