Category Archives: Parenting

Young Love (#116)

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November 17, 1969

Our school days were busy and went by fast as Nate and I moved through the last full week before a short Thanksgiving week – which would culminate in our wedding!

Although my heart wasn’t always in my classroom work, I loved recess – the perfect time to get rid of all the excess energy I seemed to have. Sometimes I found myself running around like a first-grader, happy to race the kids in games of “Red Rover Come Over” and “Steal the Bacon.”

Merry-go-roundThen one day we had a playground crisis that could have ended in the death of one of my first graders. Our playground had an old merry-go-round that was popular with all the children. On that day, after the girls had all scrambled on board, the boys got the merry-go-round spinning at full speed.

The kids were all squealing with delight when suddenly a little girl’s dress somehow got caught in the center wheel of the merry-go-round. With each revolution the fabric pulled tighter around her neck, and none of the other children noticed.

FullSizeRender(6)Linda’s class and mine shared playground time, and as she and I stood chatting, the merry-go-round wasn’t in her line of vision…. but it was in mine. As it continued to spin, the little girl’s air supply was being cut off tighter and tighter. In a few seconds she was going to be unconscious – and possibly choke to death.

As my brain finally kicked in and I realized what was happening, I bolted toward the merry-go-round yelling for the boys to stop pushing. Together we wrenched the heavy thing to a stop, and I jumped on. With one hand I grabbed the little girl out of the middle of the merry-go-round while yanking her dress up and off the center wheel with the other hand.

She took in a giant gulp of air…. and the crisis was over.

Even though she rallied quickly, I kept a close eye on her throughout the afternoon. She seemed no worse for wear, and gradually the red marks around her neck faded. I wondered if I should mention the incident to her mother —  but knew that if I did tell her, she would worry endlessly about her daughter’s safety after that.

By 3:00, I had decided to let it go by. And if this sweet little girl ever described all the merry-go-round excitement to her parents, I never heard about it.

Back at our apartment when I told Nate the story, he cautioned me to be more vigilant. And in an effort to make me take him seriously, he mentioned the possibility of law suits – as any good law student would.

But I had already learned my lesson.

“Be ready to do whatever is good.” (Titus 3:1)

Young Love (#114)

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November 15, 1969

Nate and I decided to spend the weekend in Champaign. The only wedding detail left to tend to in Wilmette was the groom’s cake, and Mom said her lady-friends were looking forward to taking care of that in a few days.

Groom's cake boxesThe 104 pounds of fruit cake had arrived, and they planned to cut it into 500 pieces, wrap each one in Saran, fill the boxes, and cushion the cake with tiny strips of tissue. It sounded like lots of unnecessary work, but Mom had her heart set on sending each wedding guest home with a “favor.”

I still hadn’t picked up my wedding gown from a shop in suburban Chicago after its final alteration, but they promised it would be ready a few days before November 29. I tried not to stress about it.

There was one wedding detail, though, that Mom insisted I do her way, without even considering my opinion. Years earlier, she and Dad had been on a trip to Sweden, returning with rave reviews about what Swedish brides were wearing on their heads: small gold crowns. Since Dad was 100% Swedish and Mom was half, she had decided to bring that tradition to America – and bought a crown.

One day after Mary was engaged, Mom took us into her room and carefully pulled a blue velvet box down from her closet shelf, while briefing us on the new family tradition she was about to start. She described the pretty Swedish brides and then said, “Many of the state churches there own a crown so that any girl from the congregation can wear it on her wedding day. And guess what. We now have our very own crown!”

The crownGently she pulled it from the box to show us – a small gold headpiece with 12 large points and 12 small ones, each topped with a cultured pearl.

“Through the years,” she said, “all the brides in our extended family can wear it, and we’ll be sharing an important tradition with each other and also with our Swedish relatives.”

Mary and I looked at each other that day, unsure about whether or not we wanted to be “crowned” on our wedding days. But Mom was sure, so all we could do was smile and nod.

Mary is crowned.When Mary’s wedding day arrived in 1967 (right), she walked down the aisle with that crown on her head, and our cousin Gloria wore it again in 1968.

In 1969 it was my turn, and though I’d envisioned my veil attached to something lacy and sparkly, I followed in the cooperative footsteps of the other two brides – and agreed to wear the crown. Actually, it felt good to please Mom, after all she’d done for us.

 

I had only one reservation. With short hair and a veil that would be longer than my train, how was that crown going to stay on my head?

“Work at living in peace with everyone…” (Hebrews 12:14)

Young Love (#105)

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November 1, 1969

As Nate and I drove the well-traveled road between our Champaign apartment and my folks’ Wilmette home, we realized it was the first day of November – our wedding month! Although we’d been engaged for only 4 months, the wait seemed forever. Neither of us had any second thoughts, and we could hardly wait till November 29.

From my journal: As for my feelings about getting married, I’m anticipating it with eagerness! Everyone says marriage is a challenge, but I can’t wait to get started. Over these last few months, I’ve gotten lots of valuable advice in hash-over sessions with Mary, Mom, my girlfriends, and others. I have a lot of theories about husbands and wives and am going to try them all out. Nate and I have also talked about sex a lot. Maybe that’s why we’ve been able to abstain thus far. But that wedding night? It’s going to be sweet!

Drake HotelAs we drove, we talked about our honeymoon, making the decision to spend all 4 days at Chicago’s historic Drake Hotel. The first night we decided we’d pay the extra price for a suite of two rooms but after that would move to a regular room. During the day we’d stroll the Chicago streets, do a little shopping, walk along Lake Michigan’s beaches, and “take naps” back at the hotel. In the evenings we’d eat out and attend one live show and a movie or two.

When we arrived at Mom and Dad’s, the kitchen was still torn up, and new appliances had been delivered…. to the living room. But Mom still wasn’t worried.

Kneeling benchDad was spending every free minute at Moody Church, supervising the installation of a new sound system suspended from the super-high ceiling. While he was there, new carpet had been laid on the steps leading to the lower platform where we would be married, and a new kneeling bench had arrived. The church had also ordered new white cloth runners for the very long double aisles in the sanctuary, and they too had been delivered.

As soon as we stepped into Mom’s front door she said, “Wait’ll you see this!” She led us to the garage where a long table was piled high with tiny white boxes about 3 inches square. Our names and the wedding date were printed on the lids. “Groom’s cake!” she said. She explained how her friends had spent 3 evenings folding all 500 boxes.

Fruit cake“And I’ve ordered 104 pounds of fruit cake. When it gets here we’ll slice it, wrap each piece, and fill the boxes. You know what they say. If you’re a single lady wanting to be married, put a piece of groom’s cake under your pillow, and one day your prince will come.”

Nate raised his eyebrows and looked at me, not sure what to say. I just nodded our approval and said, “Good job on the boxes!”

That afternoon as Nate put twinkle lights on the back yard evergreens, I went to meet with our caterer. But when I walked through her door, a group of 25 friends came around the corner and shouted, “Surprise!”

It was another bridal shower!

“Rejoice with those who rejoice.” (Romans 12:15)