Rememberings From HEALING CREEK

 

 

Updates from the Creek ...

 

 

 

I've been up to my elbows in work ... while still trying to keep on top of holiday preparations ... I know it might seem early but I make most of my gifts and I am actually running behind in handicrafts ...

 

I bought the coolest snowmen bags and snowy tissue paper to wrap snowflake ornaments in on the way home from work ... I have a plan ... a theme!  

I have been thinking and reading about Russian Wolfhounds ... tying to pick a "Russian name" but all the names I like are already names of nieces, cousins, sisters and my own kids ... Do you suppose there is Russian in our family tree?  There are names like Ana, Annika, Sara, Sophia, Tasha, Tallia, Kristina, Tasha, Nadia. Sonya and Lena ... and somehow, I just can't bring myself to name my dog after a family member and then, one of my friends married a Russian woman so Sasha, Nadya (Nadia) and Katya are out ... don't think they'd like me using their names either ... lol ...

 

I dated a guy once or twice ... never really went anywhere ... but I saw him four or five years later and in front of all my friends, he proclaimed that he had named his golden retriever after me ... thought I'd be honored ... well, it was kinda sweet.  We are, after all , talking about a golden retriever!

 

 

 

I have read so much ... I am dreaming about this imaginary Russian Wolfhound that I have yet to meet and yet I am worried about one thing ... What if she takes to chasing cars?  That would make me really sad.  Dogs get run over that way ... and this dog would have to travel with me ... she gets lonely when she is left alone ... and yet, what a great companion when I go on my walks ... still weighing the decision ... as you can tell ...

 

It has gotten me to think of Russia ...

My father went to Russia almost ten years ago now ... to build a church ...

 

Dad's church had been sending money to a group of Christians in Minsk ... An elderly Russian woman that attended my Dad's church asked my father if he would go with her and help them build a church ... My father is a hardworking, plain spoken man who doesn't have the money to pack up and zip off to Russia at the drop of a hat but when the woman asked him, he wondered ... He talked to Mom on the way home.  Mom and Dad have never been out of Minnesota much, let alone fly anywhere ... and I'm sure my father didn't even have a passport when they had this talk. 

My Dad has an adventurer's heart but my Mom is careful and grounded.  She has more faith than my father has dreams so they made an agreement.  My father had an auction sale coming up ... A small estate ... He had already said it wouldn't bring much, so Mom felt somewhat secure when Dad said ... "Let's see what God wants me to do ... If my part of the proceeds of that sale comes to enough to pay for the plane ticket to Russia, I'll go ... Agreed?"  Mom agreed.

The deal was made.  Mom was willing to see what God would do.

 

The day of the Auction was rainy ... not a good start ... The old woman's estate wasn't much but her family was hopeful ... Dad held off starting the sale for an hour to let the rain die down ... It did.  For a cold, rainy Saturday, the crowd was pretty good, there was plenty of coffee at the concession stand and hot donuts had just arrived.  The sale lasted longer than Dad had expected it to, but the bids were going well and he entertained the crowd between lots, sharing stories about the pieces he held up (Does anyone besides our family know that Dad makes most of those stories up?  Well, I guess you all know now!) ... Mom brought Dad a cup of warmcoffee once in a while and room temperature water to keep his voice going ... He broke for ten minutes to eat a quick hot dog and started back up as quick as he could.

I wish you could see my Dad work a sale ... He reads the crowd better than anyone I have ever seen ... He talks to people he knows ... after all these years, he knows them all ... and teases them, saying things like, "Now , Myrtle, don't even think about buying this.  John will have your hide for sure if you drag this thing home!"  The crowd would laugh and sure enough, Myrtle would bid, just to show the crowd who's boss ... which only made the crowd laugh more ... and poor John would hang his head and come pick up the item, trying not to look too whipped as he carried it to the car while Dad would say, "Now, there goes a man who knows how to love his woman.  John, you are a heck of a guy!"  John would smile and the crowd would cheer and for a moment, John was the King of the World and that box of knick-knacks would be on the mantle no matter what because they proved to everyone that he knew how to love his lass ... The Auctioneer had said so .. in front of God and everybody ... lol ...

Next!

 

Next up was an old wood stove ... pretty in it's day, but a piece of work today ... Dad would describe the pancakes that used to come of the top of that stove and even I wanted to buy that magic stove, if only to have one plate of those amazing pancakes ... just one bite! 

My Dad is a magician, a showman. a salesman too ... I laugh to watch him work and consider it a compliment when people tell me I can sell just like him because I suppose they're right in a way.  I can sell refrigerators to Eskimos but I'll never be the salesman my father is ... although it's nice for people to say so ... I see him at work and know just enough to know that he is a Master ... He can look in your eye and tell if you are or if you aren't going to buy that day ... and before you know it, that look in your eye changes and you become a buyer THAT DAY whether you planned it or not ... and it's not manipulation when you leave happier than he is that you made your decision that day ... He makes you feel like you're the smartest person in the world for making that choice, and just like John, you'll tell your grandchildren about the day that you made the deal of your life!

 

Whew!  Dad will like that paragraph so I'll leave it ... but on that day, at that auction, Dad expected to make 1,000 dollars from the sale but he left with more ... much more ... He and Mom didn't say much on the ride home.  When Dad got home, he called the travel agency in town and asked how much a plane ticket would be to Minsk and the woman calculated the dates and airfares and said, "3,311 dollars and 77 cents" 

My Dad repeated, "Three thousand, Three Hundred, Eleven Dollars and 77 Cents?  Is that right?" while he looked at Mom who had counted the money while he was on the phone.  He looked at Mom to see what the answer was and Mom closed her eyes and bowed her head.

Without saying a word, she got up and went to her sewing room and came back with 77 Cents in change and handed it to Dad, "You're going to Russia." she said.

In the five weeks before Dad went, they gathered money together from many churches and Mom sewed 100-dollar bills into Dad's clothes ... tucked in the hems and folds of his clothing were hundreds and hundreds of American dollars ... headed to Russia to build a church ... Twenty Thousand Dollars in all, gathered from not rich but hard working Minnesota blue-collar workers who hoped it would help ...

 

Dad left Minneapolis and was on his way to Russia when the news reported that the Ruble had fallen.  I heard the news report and wondered how this would effect Dad's plan.  The church had sent 20,000 dollars over the years to the church and Dad was carrying twenty thousand more in his clothes to a place where their money was NO GOOD.

 

An English speaking girl met Dad at the airport and took him to stay with a family in Minsk.  When he got to the place where he was to stay, he talked to the minister and they counted their money and talked about what they had to do in the five short weeks my father was going to be there.

 

First, they had to convince the Mayor of the small town to give Dad a building permit ... He and his interpreter met with the Mayor.  She was a hard, cold woman who looked at my Dad like he had just crawled out of the sewer ... My Dad smiled and through his interpreter said, "You are broke.  I have American dollars and I will pay your hardest working men to help me build a church."  I will pay them everyday until we are done."  The mayor's face changed.  Her people were starving.  There wasn't any money anywhere and here in front of her was a man who said he would pay her people ... She didn't really care what he was building as long as some of her people would eat so even though she NEVER gave FOREIGNERS permits, she gave dad's interpreter one and the building began.

 

Russia doesn't have a Home Depot or Lowe's!  If you want to build, you go to one shop for nails and another shop for hinges and another shop for glass and the sawmill for wood.  Craftsmen make the windows and the doors the old fashioned way ... They had never heard of trussed roofs so Dad drew what he wanted and showed them how to make a trussed roof ... Wood workers wanted to work with "The Amerikan" so they could learn our ways ... How much do we Americans take for granted or WHAT?  Dad drew the foundation and they brought a back hoe into dig the footings.  Huge blocks were put in place for the foundation.  2 x 4 walls were built and raised in one day.  The trusses were placed along the top and when the supports were removed, the Russian woodworkers marveled at the beauty and simplicity of the design.  The walls were covered.  The windows were built and placed.  The door was paneled and beautifully carved by hand and set into place.  Benches were placed where pews would someday be and an alter was carved and placed.

Dad didn't speak Russian but he whooped and hollered praise and somehow, the Russians knew they were doing GOOD!  In five shirt weeks, Dad had watched and helped the church go from an empty field to a house of God and somewhere in the middle of it all, it became a Holy Place where men put down their vodka and HOPED ... where women put down their household worries and HOPED ... where children who were scarred with what they call the Belorussian Necklace (children who were born around the time of the Chernobyl Nuclear Incident were operated on to remove their thyroid gland which had been effected by the radioactivity that had been released into the atmosphere after the incident) watched the adults work together and they HOPED. 

 

Dad was able to meet with all of them in the church one time before he returned home and his life was changed by what he saw in those five weeks ...

 

Dad came home twenty five pounds thinner ... He never liked potatoes and cabbage much ... and when he got off the plane, he kissed the ground and thanked God for all that we Americans have that we take for granted ... He looked around and realized that we Americans SMILE way more than they do in other countries.  Our WORST day beats the heck out of their BEST days!

 

 

 

Anyway ... back to this Russian Wolfhound I want to get as a running companion ... What kind of name would you choose for a female Russian Wolfhound?

 

And while you are thinking of a good name ... Let me tell you tomorrow about feeding deer and grilling grits ... lol ...