Girl from the Prairie

Here we are in Bertram at the Oatmeal festival. We rode the train from Ceder Park to Bertram and back. We went on August 29 with our friends Heike, Lou and Kobe. It was small town fun, like where we grew up. They dropped oatmeal from a plane, so it was like oatmeal snow flakes. It was our first experience in oatmeal snow. Heike took some amazing pictures of buildings and stuff that didn't look cool to me until I saw her photos. Amazing what we can and can't see though looking at the same scenery. Kids enjoyed catching candy at the parade.

This week at CBS(Community Bible Study) we had a brunch instead of opening lecture and worship. The topic was, "how did you grow up and how has it influenced your life?" There are 15 of us and we have about 45 minutes to share. Everyone around the table had grown up in a small town(they were talking 3-5K being small). It was so neat to hear about everyones lives and what they chose to share. I really enjoy the ladies in my group, they are very charming and sweet.

I took some time to think about what to share. I was overwhelmed with memories and what to share. 3 minutes isn't much for a childhood but I gave it my best stab. "I grew up near an Indian Reservation, my mom has taught on that reservation for over 30 years. My hometown was small less than 500 people. My graduating class was 22, 11 boys and 11 girls, we always had a date for all the dances. The best thing that small town living instilled in me was trust and how to trust. We never locked our doors at night, keys stayed in vehicle ignitions, and you could trust that if you were out causing trouble your mom would know it before you got home. (I sound like I am 75 as I write that sentence, but it is so true. I remember Sarah Schmidt teaching me how to drive the Chevy Luv stick shift, I think I was 13.5 and she was 14.5(so she had gotten her permit 6 months earlier). Someone spied us and called her parents before we even got back to her house. Mom and Dad #2 were great, I can't even remember if there was repercussions.) That value of trust is defiantly a transferable skill. I trust God, I know he will work all things for good and I am confident that he does as he promises."

I grew up thinking everyone cared about me. We rode bikes everywhere(in a town of 600 that's like 8 blocks, everywhere might not be the best word). It was 2.1 miles around our town, great distance to run and if you needed to go further you could head out pea lane to gain mileage and new scenery. Ahh the memories flood me and wrap around me like a blanket. I have good memories of life growing up in small town South Dakota and many friends who still live there. Would I move back? Yes, of course, I think it would be great for my kids to have some of the same experiences but I also know they are making their own memories and some day they will have a different, yet just as cozy memory blanket to wrap up with.

I want to share one of my favorite stories is If you're not from the Prairie, and just to let you know I married a boy from the prairie and the pictures in this book are great...

If you're not from the prairie, you don't know the sun, you can't know the sun.

Diamonds that bounce off crisp winter snow

Warm waters in dugouts and lakes that we know

The sun is our friend from when we were young

A child of the prairie is part of the sun

If you're not from the prairie you don't know the sun.

If you're not from the prairie you don't know the wind, you can't know the wind.

Our cold winds of winter cut right to the core

Hot summer wind devils can blow down the door

As children we know when we play any game

The wind will be there yet we play just the same

If you're not from the prairie you don't know the wind.

If you're not from the prairie you don't know the sky, you can't know the sky

The bold prairie sky is clear bright and blue

Though sometimes cloud messages give us a clue

Monstrous grey mushrooms can hint of a storm

Or painted pink feathers say good bye to the warm

If you're not from the prairie you don't know the sky.

If you're not from the prairie you don't know what's flat, you've never seen flat

When travellers pass through across our great plain

They all view our home they all say the same"It's simple and flat!"

They've not learned to see

The particular beauty that's now part of me

If you're not from the prairie you don't know what's flat.

If you're not from the prairie you've not heard the grass you've never heard grass

In strong summer winds, the grains and grass bend

And sway to a dance that seems never to end

It whispers its secrets - they tell of this land

And the rhythm of life played by nature's own hand

If you're not from the prairie, you've never heard grass.

So you're not from the prairie and yet you know snow you think you know snow?

Blizzards bring danger as legends have told

In deep drifts we roughhouse, ignoring the cold

At times we look out at great seas of white

So bright is the sun that we squeeze our eyes tight

If you're not from the prairie you don't know snow.

If you're not from the prairie you don't know our trees you can't know our trees

The trees that we know have taken so long

To live through our seasons to grow tall and strong

They're loved and they're treasured we watched as they grew

We knew they were special - the prairie has few

If you're not from the prairie you don't know our trees.

Still you're not from the prairie and yet you know cold..you say you've been cold?

Do you know what to do to relieve so much pain

Of burning from deep down that drives you insane?

Your ears and your hands right into your toes

A child who's been cold on the prairie will know

Of all of those memories we share when we're old

None are more clear then that hard bitter cold

You'll not find among us a soul who can say"I've conquered the wind on a cold winter's day"

If you're not from the prairie you don't know the cold you've never been cold.

If you're not from the prairie you don't know me you just can't know ME.

You see, my hair's mostly wind, my eyes filled with grit,

My skin's red or brown and my lips chapped and split

I've lain on the prairie and heard grasses sigh

Ive stared at the cast open bowl of the sky

I've seen all those castles and faces in clouds

My home is the prairie and I cry out loud

If you're not from the prairie you can't know my soul

You don't know our blizzards, you've not fought our cold

You can't know my mind, nor even my heart

Unless deep within you, there's somehow a part

A part of these things that I've said that I know

The wind, sky and earth, the storms and the snow

Best say you have - and then we'll be one

For we will have shared that same blazing sun.