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