This is a
picture of me at 6 years old. My mother used to cut my hair. Lol I thought I looked like the Dutch Boy on the
paint cans. I remember being a bit embarrassed and by the time I was 8 I had a
nice pony tail like the other girls.
I’m not sure
if I’ve written this story before, but I feel compelled to tell it so you’ll
have to forgive me if you have already read it. It was 1956 and I was six years
old when my parents decided to leave Canada and move me, my sister and brother to
a drier climate. My brother had severe asthma and the doctors said he wouldn’t
survive another winter.
So, they
applied to move to the United States and my father got a job in Loma Linda,
California at a hospital working in the accounting office. We packed up and
took off in our roomy car. On the way, my father would break into song, “California
here we come; right back where we started from…” I was very excited since I
knew about Hollywood where all the movie stars worked and the TV shows were
made. I imagined it was beautiful. (At the time, it was definitely not beautiful and we were terribly
disappointed.)
The drive
down south was certainly beautiful. We took Highway 101, which is famous for its
fantastic views of the Pacific Ocean and the giant Redwood trees. We stopped at
the Trees of Mystery, drove through a hole in a tree and had our picture taken
in front of a huge sculpture of Paul Bunyan. We also stopped at the Sea Lion
Caves, which were wonderful. Then we came to San Francisco, where we got out of
the car and walked on the Golden Gate Bridge. It was all very exciting for me
and I suppose that trip is the reason I have loved to travel.
The day we left
the bridge and came back to the hotel was a day I will never forget. We entered
our room and my father said, “My wallet is gone.” We looked all over the room,
but Dad figured he must have lost it in the car or at the bridge. One of my
parents said, “Let’s pray.”
We all knelt
down on the carpet and my father prayed. I guess I prayed too, I don’t remember.
But I do remember one of them saying, “All the money we have in the world is in
that wallet.” I would guess it was the first time I had ever seen my parents
afraid., so I was afraid too.
We drove to
the bridge. Dad got out of the car to retrace our steps. We waited, feeling
very nervous. He came back with the wallet. He said it was lying open on the
sidewalk. The money was sticking out for all to see. Yet though people were
walking by, no one saw it or picked it up. I believe the Lord put his hand over
it.
From that
moment until now, sixty-two years later, I have never once doubted the existence
of God. I don’t know what that answered prayer did for my brother and sister,
but for me – I knew there was a God who hears us. And come to think of it, they
never had doubts about God’s existence either. None of us were Christians when
we were teenagers, but as adults we all came to him. My brother died of asthma
at age 21. Before he died he wrote an article about how he was ready to meet
Jesus. My older sister has become very close to God in the last 15 years. I
became a Christian when I was 19.
I’m so
thankful to God for showing us kids his mercy and kindness when the whole family
needed him. I’m not sure what we would have done back then to keep traveling
and staying in motels and eating. Actually, I’m sure the Lord would have
provided in a different way. I just want to say a big, "Thank you," to God for showing a
6- year-old girl what you can do.
