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| Here we are with the other senior missionary office couple, the Bradshaws. |
Sometimes the big holidays spent far
from family are the ones that make us most thankful. Christmas spent singing to our troops in
Germany long ago was the first such holiday.
Living in Kentucky while Len went to med school brought others. Sharing the Thanksgiving feast with missionaries like ourselves made for a happy
day this week. Our shared experiences
and goals made us familiar to each other. We felt grateful for all the things
we usually do, and there was much gratitude for the opportunity to participate
in the work we now do, but the thanks we felt for family and old friends was
heightened the more for being away from those we hold most dear. You don’t take
for granted the people you miss. But
there will be other holidays and other feasts, and then we will cherish all of
you even more because we missed you this year.
We hope you can tell how much we like the
people and the area of Fresno. Usually
our posts tell about new places and people in a happy way. A several year drought is one of the problems
the people here face. We have had rain
several days since we came and there is great rejoicing and sincere prayers of
thanks in church every time. Some of our
experiences in the past couple of weeks brought greater understanding about the
desperate need for water.
Two weeks ago, as we were driving around
visiting missionaries northwest of Fresno, we saw a large orchard that had died
before its time. It didn’t take long to
realize we were witnessing some of the consequences of drought and water
allocation problems. Last week we
visited missionaries south to southwest of Fresno and the scene was repeated
many times over.
It hurts one’s heart to see once living
saplings by the hundreds and thousands standing in leafless ranks, fruit and
nut trees in their prime with still green trunks but dead or dying crowns. In
one place a healthy vineyard flourished on one side of a road with collapsed
vines of a blackened rotting vineyard across the way, demonstrating hard
choices of watering some fields while letting others go. We knew that the lives of the people in the
houses we passed were diminished by the loss of so much time, effort, and money
for the farmers and workers, in addition to the missing future produce
available. It was not so different from
losses we have seen when wheat fields do not get rain, or when hail decimates
the crop, but the less familiar crops in this area underlined all such tragedies. Perhaps a tree that requires years to grow
and bear fruit seems more like a man.
The carefully laid out orchards, so vast
and beautiful in their strict geometry as we sped past the rows, reminded me of
war cemeteries and lines from “In Flanders Fields”. We paid late Veteran’s Day homage
to those who fought and those who died in war as we mourned for them and the
trees.
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
by John McCrae, May
1915
