Reflections on Lawrence “Larry” Ruck

March 6, 1951 – January 4, 2024

Delivered at Larry Ruck’s Celebration of Life on March 15, 2024

Lawrence Ruck is one of my classmates that I have known the longest. We were in elementary and high school together, often in the same classes. I’m unsure what originally brought us together but I think you’ll see it was probably humour. God knew I needed to laugh growing up in a strict Mennonite home!


Today I want to share a few stories, most of them humorous, from elementary school, high school, post high school and that wonderful time called Retirement. I wrote a book called I Was A Teenage Mennonite: And Other Stories My Father Doesn’t Want Me to Tell and it’s from this book that I’ll share some stories about Larry and me.


Sir Alexander Mackenzie Elementary School Years

I remember one night in 1962, when I was 10 and Larry was 11, we attended a Leighton Ford meeting held in Vancouver. Mr. Ford was part of the Billy Graham Crusades. When the altar call came, Larry wanted to go down but he wanted me to come with him.  Even though I had made that decision a number of years earlier, I think this bonded us together. We were now brothers. Brothers in faith. Brothers in Christ. And this is why I know, for certain, we’ll get a chance someday in heaven to relive some of these other moments I’m going to share.

I considered Larry a leader at elementary school. I didn’t know he was a year older than most of us in our class. I only found this out years later but I think it was a back/spine issue that made him miss Grade 1. Instead, he had to be in a body cast for part of the year, miss his first year of school, and go to Seattle for special treatments. Nevertheless, here is an example of Larry not letting the past stop him and rising to the top of the class in a volunteer capacity:

Mackenzie Elementary had a safety patrol that operated at the crosswalk of 41st and Windsor in South Van. Two patrol boys were stationed at each side of the crosswalk with a STOP sign and a third boy was the Captain that called out the signals to leave the curb and walk out with your sign to halt traffic as kids crossed to school in the morning and when they returned home after school. Boys were allowed to do this job in Grade 6 and 7. There were four teams that rotated through the schedule. After a year of doing the job, our Vice Principal Mr. Orness, called all the boys together and said, ‘Who wants to be a Captain next year?” Five of us—including Larry and I—put up our hands. There were only four Captain positions available so he had to make a choice. He pointed at me and three others and said, “You are our four Captains this year. And Lawrence, you’ll be the Captain of the Captains.” And that’s how Larry rose to the top. But the funniest line I heard was when Gary Smith blurted out after the fact, “You mean the only criteria to being a Captain was to put up your hand!?”


The Cane

Our friends are often the ones who get us into the most trouble, at least that’s what I discovered in grade seven. I was rarely away in elementary school but one day when I wasn’t in class, our Guidance teacher got sidetracked from his lesson plan–purposefully assisted by the requests of this class of grade seven boys–and spent the entire class talking about what it was like for him as a boy growing up in England, going to British schools and “getting the cane!”

Frustrated that he lost his lesson by being manipulated by this group of Lost Boys, he told the class, “That’s the last time I’m going to talk about the cane! The next time anyone asks me about it, they’ll get the cane!”

OK. Everyone knew what he meant, except me, because I wasn’t there. When our next Guidance block occurred, my friend Lawrence Ruck, kept whispering to me under his breath.

“Ask him about the cane?” he said.

“No, I’m not asking him about the cane,” I replied. This went back and forth until the setup took its natural course. I couldn’t stand it anymore and put up my hand.

“Yes. Can I help you?” said the voice at the front of the room.

“Excuse me, Sir. I was just wondering about the cane?” All heads swung around to look at me.

“What!? Get up here young man. I’ll show you the cane!” And as I took my place up front, he grabbed the blackboard pointer from the chalk rail and swatted me on my behind!

You’d think Lawrence had just won a Nobel Prize. He was smiling that satisfied smile of someone sitting in the catbird seat!

Friends! You can’t live with them . . . and you can’t live without them.

The Grade 7 Farewell Play

In my final few months of elementary school, our teacher, Mr. Alexander, decided that he would write a play for the boys to perform for the girls at our Grade Seven Farewell and Graduation night. Lawrence Ruck and I got the lead roles.  The play was about some secret potion the two of us concocted and when we and our friends drank it, we would suddenly grow beards.  This was all done through “George Lucas” like special effects: lights off, pull fake white beards out of our shirts, place under noses with elastic around our ears and presto, when the lights came on, we looked like a bunch of old hermits.  That’s all the plot I remember.

Did we impress the girls?  I have no idea.  But they did impress us.  In June 1965, some of the Grade 7 girls actually wore nylons that night and some wore a touch (too much) of their mom’s make-up.  I think you can see that high school was, indeed, just around the corner.  

The girls, and the guys, couldn’t wait to start all over at Jayo at the bottom rung of a new ladder.

John Oliver High School Years

And that story graduates us into high school at Jayo. In Grade 8, Larry and I were in Division 55, Mr. Pajala’s homeroom. He was the band teacher and we were both in the band. Larry played trumpet and I played, initially, a cornet so we sat quite close together in band class. Our second year in the band, Larry was still a trumpet player, but I was now on the baritone, sitting a riser above him, but at least two or three levels below him in musicality. One year after that I was on to the choral room—I had a girlfriend in the choir—but Larry continued with the band. He liked music: both playing it and listening to it. In fact I recall with incredible clarity in 1969, Larry walking quickly towards me in the first floor school hallway saying, “Have you heard it? Have you heard it?” “Heard, what,” I said. “The Beatles’ Hey Jude.”  I said, “No!” “It’s going to be a classic, a classic!” he said. And indeed it was!

Larry liked making up names and sayings: four that involved me countless times are “Jeem,” “The Tank,” “Dat’s Right, Yonny,” and “You Mean…Yup!” #1 – Jeem was his name for me. Instead of Jim it was Jeem. I think it’s how his mom pronounced it and it stuck. The next three sayings I’ll read from excerpts from my book:

2 – Dat’s right, Yonny

“Dat’s right, Yonny!”

That refrain was heard over and over again whenever my brother, John, would ask my friend Lawrence (Larry) Ruck and I a question.  Well, actually he didn’t ask us questions as much as he would make statements and then ask, “Right?”

And Larry would answer, “Dat’s right, Yonny!”  Yonny was Larry’s stylized version of Johnny.

We think we may have been his inspiration to pursue the life of a scholar. And we know we’re the reason he’s Dr. Martens now. 

3 – The Tank

“Dat’s right, Yonny!” was just one of many sayings that we would coin in our small circle of friends.  We had a term for everything we felt was named improperly.  For example, Larry even named cars.  He named my ‘56 Chevy, The Tank.  I even had script letters cut out of Mactac to place on the front dash to let everyone know its name; the name Larry had given my car.  So let’s meet this Larry.

Besides individual church activities, we shared many crazy adventures at his house or mine throughout our school days.  From working all through the night to complete our entire Physics 12 lab reports in one sitting, to all day Rook championships, we perfected the Whatya want to do now? question into actively seeking a new way to pass the day or night.  Eventually, Larry was in our wedding party as one of my groomsmen.  But long before our wedding we would spend many a foolhardy day playing cards, swimming, cruising in my ’56 or his ’58 Chevy, going fishing with Sig Thoss to Weaver Lake, or just eating and hanging out.  And it all started at Sir Alexander Mackenzie Elementary School.

Larry was the Captain of the Captains, the star of the Grade 7 Farewell play, the Grade 8 rep on Student Council our first year at Jayo, and Larry and our mutual friend, Gary Smith, also became key musicians in the Senior Concert Band and the leadership of the Band’s executive.

4 – You Mean…Yup!

One of mine and Larry’s favorite expressions in those days was, “You mean…,” (pause, look at each other, raise your eyebrows, nod head and say) “Yup!”  It meant nothing really, but it was our bizarre way of enjoying the mundane with a little something to throw people off. Even Mennonites have their quirky idiosyncrasies.

Incidentally, my Uncle Bill gave me The Tank after I had an accident in my Dad’s ’61 Chevy on a snowy Hope/Princeton Highway in Grade 12. Larry was one of the first people to ride in my new wheels. I had to drive The Tank up to retrieve my stuff from the car I wrecked a few days earlier and Larry came with me. When we hit another snow storm just after Hope he crawled into the back seat and hid his eyes! I think he was scared, but at the time I tried to believe he was on his knees praying for a safe arrival!

Post-Secondary Years

Helen’s Grill

Larry was the master of the one-liner.  Evidence of this skill is clearly illustrated at one of our frequent stops at another greasy spoon cafe.  I take you now to Helen’s Grill on the corner of 25th and Main in Vancouver.

The day Larry and I took our places at one of Helen’s tables, we expected we’d be in and out within a half hour.  For some reason, the waitress just didn’t acknowledge us for about twenty minutes.  And it wasn’t that busy.  When she finally arrived, Larry said, “What!?  Same day service?!

She was not impressed, but I was.  A great line, well delivered, is a gem that sparkles long after the moment is gone. Right?

“Dat’s right, Yonny!”

Incidently, Larry, Cathy, Nena and I visited Helen’s Grill about nine or ten years ago for the first time since that What? Same Day Service story to check out what we remembered. And it’s still there at Main and 25th. This time we got good service, the coffee was fine, and we all enjoyed our sandwiches! But we’ll never forget Larry’s line that my Dad thought was one of the funniest he ever heard.


After getting married and having kids—both of us—it was harder to see each other on a regular basis. But one way we stayed in touch was through our high school reunions, and in the early years (the 10th in 1980, the 20th in 1990) Larry served on our reunion committee helping to find grads. He may have missed one (Our 30th in 2000?) but I have pictures of him in 2010 (40th), 2015 (45th—a one day cruise from Seattle to Vancouver), and the most recent one in 2022 at River Rock Casino (we had to wait two years because of Covid to celebrate our 50th grad reunion).


I also remember other surprise reunions that he attended like our 25th wedding anniversary party in 1998 and our 50th wedding last year in 2023 . But one reunion that we met up at in 2006 was the 75th anniversary of Sir Alexander Mackenzie Elementary and Larry had an incredible surprise for me. He had his original copy of our Grade 7 Farewell play we performed in June of 1965. He had kept it for over forty years! It was called The Orange Drink. Unlike the description I read earlier, I now knew the title and could read the full play. I realized there was also a dog involved in the story. And, although most of the boys looked like old hermits with their white beards, I had forgotten they were also frozen on stage in their desks until the mysterious orange drink wore off. Larry gave me his copy as a gift. He also stated at our 50th Wedding Celebration that while I could now consider myself an actor on TV and in movies, he was once the star of the play and I was just his supporting sidekick!

Retirement Years

Cathy and Larry – In 2013—for our 40th wedding anniversary—we connected with Larry and Cathy Meir when we found out she was a travel agent and she arranged for Nena and I and Wayne and Lia Craven to cruise the Mediterranean. It’s still our favourite cruise of all time and it was the least expensive one as well. Cathy found all sorts of perks like that for us and we’re indebted to her for taking care of our travel needs.

Golfing – Larry loved to golf and I have no golfing stories because I don’t, but I’m sure we’ll hear some from his golfing buddies.

Santa – You may not know that I play a lot of Santa roles in Hallmark movies and for the past seven years I’ve also worked at Grouse Mountain or Guildford Town Centre in November and December. Larry loved the Santa role, too! He would often grow a beard in the fall and wear a Santa hat during the Christmas season. If kids asked him—“Are you, Santa?”—he would tell them he wasn’t Santa but “Fanta” – Santa’s other brother!

When Larry lived with Nena and I for a few years, and we both had Santa beards, I’m sure the kids in the neighbourhood didn’t know who was who!


Speaking of our house and Larry’s time with us—I think he loved living there for a few years. It was supposed to be just a short time but Covid ruined all our plans. What did he like best?—Nena’s cooking! The two of them would plan meals and Nena would bring her creative touch to it all. They both also loved ordering Thai or Chinese food if the cooking bug didn’t inspire them! Two special meals, though, stand out for me: 


First, was Nena making Paella for the first time and not being able to find fresh calamari. Larry took it upon himself to search grocery stores but only found fresh calamari at Illuminati, a Tsawwassen restaurant. Larry explained Nena’s dilemma and they gave him the calamari for free!


Second, Larry loved celebrating Robbie Burns Dinner in January. He would wear a Scottish Tam hat with fake red hair sticking out the back. And the first time he joined us for our dinner he said he’d bring the secret sauce. We didn’t know what that was. It turned out that it was Scotch which he would pour over his haggis!!

And I’d like to end with this final anecdote:

While at our house, Larry would watch a streaming Sunday morning church service from Eastside Church in Anaheim where my daughter, Tracy, and her family attend. Larry loved listening to the preachers, especially Gene Appel, the senior pastor. When he moved to the high rise in New Westminster where his sister Alice lived, he still watched the early service every Sunday morning. Then he would text Nena—she gets up early, too—and tell her what he thought. Here are his last three messages to her –

“Awesome powerful message today,”

“Wow, What an awesome message today,”

and the final one on December 31st when Nena sent him the text “Great message,” he responded with, “Yes, I am thinking about it.”

Four days later he passed away.


And if Larry was here today, I think he might tell us to give faith a chance. I really don’t know what he would say to us personally, but he used to tell me he always liked visiting my dad in Abbotsford—sometimes going by himself—and my dad’s recommendation to him was, “Look up, Larry, always look up.” Maybe that’s what he wants to tell us as well.

My dad passed away just seven months before Larry. Larry was affected by my Dad’s passing and he was quietly grieving at the graveside and funeral service on what would have been my Dad’s 93rd birthday. I like to think today those two are enjoying each other’s company as well as all the other saints and relatives that preceded them. I’m looking forward to joining them someday—but maybe not today!


You mean . . .Yup!

Rest in Peace, Brother Larry. You will be missed.


John Martens’ Eulogy

John Martens on his 90th Birthday (June 5, 2020)


Our Father was born in Marienthal, Molotschna Colony, Ukraine in the Soviet Union on June 5, 1930, an almost mythical place, I would say, for his children. The stories he told of growing up there spoke of a world that had passed away, a time and place destroyed first by Stalin’s Holodomor and then by the ravages of World War II. But before that all happened, we heard stories about how he threw rocks at a bull, his cousin John Dahl promising him rubles he didn’t have for driving the bull back into the pen, snatching a few watermelons from the shared village fields, and playing marbles with frozen rabbit pellets, since they did not have money for toys. But for all the difficulties of that time, surrounded by family and friends, it seemed sort of magical.


Dad was the oldest child of Jacob Martens and Anna (Kornelsen) Martens. He had two brothers, Jake born in 1931 and Nick born in 1937. They have all lived long lives, which in itself was a miracle, an act of God’s providence, since according to Timothy Snyder in his book Bloodlands on the horrors of Stalinist Soviet Union and Nazi Germany, a child born in 1930 in Ukraine had a life expectancy of 7 years (p. 48). God cared for our Dad and his brothers, though they would lose their father in 1941. Dad wrote, “I lost my father to the communists. He died on his way to a concentration camp. Then I had to flee across the Ukraine, White Russia, Poland, and Germany with my mother, brothers and sister, always hoping to someday come to a free country.”


The family wound up in a refugee camp in Germany. Grandma had remarried and Dad had a new baby sister Anne and baby brother Bill and a good stepfather, Naftali Bachman. They all arrived in Canada in 1948 and Dad was forever grateful for this country of freedom. Dad described the journey to Canada, writing, “Left Hanover, Germany on the 12th of March 1948. Travelled by train through Germany and Holland. Took a boat from Holland across the English Channel. Arrived in Harvick Port. Took a train to London, then took bus to Southampton and left on the 17th of March. We boarded the ship, Aquitania, for Canada. Arrived at Pier 21, Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada on March 22, 1948. (This day is special for me for two reasons: Freedom Day in Canada and, my first grandchild’s birthday).”


He said that “coming out of war-ravaged Europe, Canada was like an oasis in the desert. People were well dressed and had plenty of food. We had so little food in Europe. There was never enough to satisfy our hunger. But my mother said, when we get to Canada (pronounced Kahn-aud-ah) we will be able to eat all we want.


I owned a pair of pants which I found on the British Army base where I was employed. It was so stained with oil and needed five washings before they could be put on. That was all I had when I arrived at Pier 21 as an 17-year-old.


We were given $25.00 per person for food on the train which was to last us five days. But sandwiches were 35¢ and would not be enough for 5 days so when the train stopped at a station, I ran to a nearby store and bought 10 loaves of bread, a large bologna, and about 15 pounds of Sunkist oranges. That lasted for the entire trip for our family of seven… On March 27th we arrived at the Chilliwack, BC station. Our sponsor, Mr. Nicholas N. Reimer, picked us up. He had a tree nursery and also supplied us with employment.”


Dad was baptized on September 4, 1949 at Yarrow MB Church. His life in the Church was the key priority for him, followed by his dear wife.


He married a “Canadian girl” Gertrude Esau on April 16, 1950 when he was only 19 years old, a marriage which lasted over 68 years until Mum’s death on August 27, 2018. If ever there was an example of faithfulness and love, it was our father. If you knew Dad, you knew he adored, loved, and respected her. He was so grateful that God brought them together. In their later years, they worked together at MCC’s The Cedars. Dad said it was his favourite job. He enjoyed working with the men there, and he especially enjoyed working with Mom who was the manager. He said one of the fringe benefits was being able to kiss the boss!


They were blessed with five children, Marian, Jim, Tilly, John, and Trudy. They also were blessed with many, many beloved grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Dad loved telling stories about all of us. One story he shared was how he used to take the bus to Stanley Park to meet Mom and the three oldest kids after work. It was the simple things that gave him such joy like piling leaves on the kids at the park. He also used to drop dimes on the ground or shoot them over our heads and tell us to look for the coins. He always made sure that we each found one. As much as he enjoyed us children, the grandchildren and great-grandchildren topped us. They were more precious than gold.


Dad grew up poor and having been without, he wanted to be generous to those who were suffering. Both Dad and Mom considered it a privilege to give to those who were in need. They would make sacrifices in their personal life so others would not have to go without. One example of their generosity involved sending sewing machines to India so a number of women would have a livelihood. Mom and Dad had agreed to send a certain sum of money but when Dad heard that it would not be enough for all the women to receive sewing machines, he talked to Mom and said that they needed to send more so all the women could have a sewing machine. His big heart would not allow some of the women to go without.


I should mention my Dad’s sense of humour. He truly was a man of integrity but that didn’t mean he didn’t like to have fun and laugh. He loved joking even if he was the butt of a joke. Some of the heartiest laughter I have ever heard was when he was with his cousins The Dahl Boys. They loved to tease each other. They teased him about having to wear women’s shoes with the heels cut off when they were refugees because that’s all he could find to wear while they were fleeing.


He also loved to have fun at theme parks, whether Castle Fun Park, Knott’s Berry Farm, or the greatest of all, Disneyland! We all have so many memories of his joy when we travelled. He took our whole family to Disneyland, seven people crammed in one car in 1968 when not a lot of Mennonites took that kind of trip, and then Mum and Dad did it again when they took Trudy and me to Disneyland again in 1974. Dad loved to travel with his family and with his dear Gertie elsewhere too, traveling to Ukraine, Scotland, England, Germany, Israel, Holland, Hawaii, Quebec, Virginia, Jamaica, Haiti, and the Dominican Republic, and to wherever his children lived.


He was so proud of our education. He wrote that “I was unable to get formal education during my years but all of our five children have obtained university degrees (9 in total, for my 5 children) and I am so proud of them!” But Dad was really smart and a constant reader, which is a key predictor of how well children do in school, particularly boys, and he gave himself an education and allowed us to succeed in school. He was always reading the newspaper, in fact, he had Jim get him a paper to read just days before he died, and he was always reading the Bible. In the 1980s I heard the great Canadian novelist Robertson Davies give a lecture, later published as Fiction of the Future, in which he recounted the story of the great Norwegian playwright Henrik Ibsen, who read only the Bible and the daily newspaper, and it was through this reading Davies writes that Ibsen gained his profound and wide-ranging insight into human life (p. 4-5). Davies said that to be an educated person all you needed was the Bible and the newspaper. Honestly, I think we can all agree that our Father was a well-educated man, even if not formally acknowledged. I’m sorry he was not able to get the formal schooling he desired, but he had something better: a true knowledge of God and now he has even more than any education can offer. As the Apostle Paul says in 1 Corinthians 13: 12, “For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.” We should all seek this perfect education as our life’s goal.


Dad took his faith in Jesus Christ seriously. To him it was not religion just practiced on Sundays but a faith that guided all his decisions. Dad would remark that he often failed but God never failed us. Dad and Mom served as deacons at Clearbrook MB and it gave them such joy. They faithfully visited people in the hospital and nursing homes. He did this because he felt the overwhelming love of God and the mercy that God has offered us.


We should be grateful to have had a role model like Dad. Trudy wrote that sometimes Mom would say to her that “You’re just like your Dad” and that “I’m pretty sure she would say it when she was exasperated with me. But if someone said that to me today I think I would be very proud to be compared to him.” And I think we can all agree with Trudy: Dad was faithful to his wife, he loved and provided for his family, and he guided us in the pathways of the Lord. He lost his father at the age of 11, but God blessed us with him so that we could experience a complete life with our father. He saw his children grow up, and his grandchildren, and his great-grandchildren. Psalm 128 tells us that the man is blessed who sees his “children’s children,” and doubly blessed is the one who sees his children’s children’s children. Our Dad was blessed by God and we will all miss him dearly until we meet him again.

Eulogy delivered by John W. Martens on June 5, 2023 (what would have been our father’s 93rd birthday)

Gertrude (Esau) Martens’ Eulogy

1948
2018

Gertrude Martens’ Eulogy
January 27, 1926-August 27, 2018

Gertrude Esau was born on January 27, 1926 in Langham Saskatchewan. With a blanket it was said that she weighed less than four pounds. She was a fighter from the beginning because according to the weather report from Saskatoon that day, 30 kilometers from Langham, it was between -21 to -26 Celsius. That’s cold. Even if you’re not an undersized baby.

She was the 14th child of Johann Esau and the first child to be born and to survive of his second wife, our maternal Grandmother, Maria Reimer Esau. Mom talked about never wanting to be spoiled or thought of as the spoiled child because she was the youngest when she was little. She was not spoiled; at the most she spoiled her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren at times.

The Esau family moved to BC in 1928 when Mom was a young girl and settled in Yarrow, BC; indeed the Esaus had a role as pioneers in Yarrow, something of which Mom was rightly proud. In 1988, Mom was given a key to the City of Yarrow on the occasion of the town’s 60th anniversary to the people who were there in 1928 and still lived there. When asked what the key got her, she replied, “Nothing. But I’m one of only six to get one!”

Mom grew up in Yarrow surrounded by her loving and large extended family and many friends. Much of the family’s social life surrounded the Yarrow MB church. So many of the pictures of Mom as a girl and young woman show her holding other people’s babies. She loved babies! Mom also taught Vacation Bible School in Yarrow and Sunday school. She loved it, both because Mom loved the Bible and because she loved children. Many of us can tell you from firsthand reports from the girls who attended her Sunday school class how much she meant to her Sunday school girls.

She also went to elementary school in Yarrow and high school in Chilliwack, but her high school career was cut short. Mom was lucky to have such a large family to care for her because as a young woman she lost both her Mother (in 1946) and her Father (in 1947) to cancer. Mom stopped her high schooling to care for her ailing parents, but also took the opportunity to go to Elim Bible School in Yarrow while she was caring for her them.

After her parents died, Mom’s tenacity also came into play. For a lot of people to be orphaned at that age could defeat you or create great bitterness in the face of suffering. Mom’s faith in Jesus sustained her and gave her the will to continue. As a young woman, she went to Vancouver and worked as a housekeeper to support herself, while completing Grades 11 and 12 in one year at Magee Secondary School in 1948. Some will tell you Magee is such a fine school because of its notable alumni, and they are correct: our Mom went there! Mom loved her high school reunions and Dad handed to us the notice of her upcoming 70th high school reunion a couple of days ago, which she would have loved to attend.

But there was something else beyond education in the picture after high school; a young man was now in the picture. Mom apparently had not been that sweet on any of the Yarrow boys, but her mother had told her long before Dad arrived in town that if God wanted her to be married he would bring her someone, even from Russia! There was only one problem lurking down the road, Mom had said that she had a Father named John, her eldest brother was named John, she was not going to marry another John! True love conquers these minor details.

And these were minor details in a relationship that spanned almost 70 years. Mom married John Martens, our father, in 1950 and they were married for over 68 years. This does not mean Mom did not make Dad take his time in their courtship. The first time Dad wanted to kiss Mom after they started dating, Mom said to him, “if you want to kiss someone, go home and kiss your mother.” Good advice. Dad said to Trudy recently that Mom helped him through some difficult times from his early life and that he did not know where he would be without her sustaining love. They truly had a love affair that spanned not just decades but generations. Dad thinks of his relationship with Mom in light of “the wife of noble character” from Proverbs 31, worth more than rubies. Dad describes her character as based on her steadfast faith and that she was a real friend, who never gossiped and always kept confidences. She always, guided by her faith in Jesus Christ, strove to do the right thing.

And a marriage of love like this inevitably leads to children. Mom had five children, though she wanted ten. Marian and Jim were already little tykes when Tilly was born. Mom had become ill and was told that she could not have any more children. Five years later, she was given the go ahead and John and Trudy came along. Mom did achieve her goal of ten children, though, when each of her five children married. She loved her sons- and –daughters –in-law with a passion. And, naturally, when your children marry, that leads to even more children with the coming of 17 grandchildren and 14 great-grandchildren.

But I would think there are even more people out there who might consider Gertrude their Mom. Mom was a nurturer who loved her own children unceasingly and still had room to give love to all of our friends and anyone in need of care and comfort– how many people out there consider her their other Mom? This is the lesson of her love: the more love you give, the more love you create.

One of the things that was an expression of her great love was her great cooking and baking. She loved to cook and bake and her family loved to eat and eat what she made! When you entered her home, or workplace, you entered into the history of the Mennonite kitchen. Piroshki, zwieback, vereniki, borscht, Summa borscht, halapsie, butterhorns. I think we could go on and on with our favorites, such as rollkuchen, Butta zuppe, kottletten, platz, green bean soup, wurstbubbat… but that might be enough to get our memories and taste buds working. Still, how could we not mention her canning? She canned pickles, ikra, peaches, cherries, raspberries, and even watermelon. It’s no surprise that in the Bible Jesus gives an image of the Kingdom of God as a banquet from which many will come from east and west and dine with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob on that day of the Lord (Matthew 8:11). In Mom’s cooking we got a little foretaste of heaven because as good as the food was itself, more importantly is that it was indeed prepared with love.

Mom also worked professionally as a cook and baker, at the Airport Inn in Richmond, at Columbia Bible Camp for 4 years and at the Cedars for 12 years. Cooking and baking were not the only work she did either, as she had numerous responsibilities at Columbia Bible Camp and the Cedars. Dad said that his 12 years at the Cedars were so wonderful because she was the best boss he ever had!

Mom also was one of the first people to be trained in Early Childhood Education in BC in the 1970’s, running a day care center at Richmond Bethel MB Church. Mom was a hard worker, in general, as Trudy recalls Mom getting up before anyone else and going to bed after everyone else.

In her retirement Mom continued to enjoy travelling to see the world and to see her children, who lived spread out over much of North America, and cooking for us all when she arrived in our homes. As she got older and less able to do the things she had always loved to do, she depended more and more on Dad and Marian and Eb and Jim and Nena to help her with her daily tasks and to care for her. But her love for all never ebbed, never left her. Her love seemed to grow in strength as her physical capacities weakened. It never ceased being a delight to get a hug and a kiss from Mom and look into her eyes twinkling with life and love.

But what pulled all of these gifts together, what made her the daughter, sister, cousin, friend, aunt, wife, mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother she was, was her religious faith, that she was a disciple of Jesus Christ. She was involved from an early age with the Mennonite Brethren Church in Yarrow and was baptized in her mid-teens, joining the choir at age 17 in 1943. She continued to attend MB churches throughout the Lower Mainland and the Fraser Valley all her life, including Clearbrook MB church for the last 22 years of her life. We mentioned above that Mom was a fighter, but what she fought for was the Kingdom of God. That goal transformed her will to survive as a little baby and the toughness that took her through the early loss of her parents into Dad’s sweetheart who loved and loved and loved all those around her.

When we asked Dad for a special Bible passage for Mom, he could not choose one; he said that it was the whole Bible she loved. This was true. Her faith in Christ was an attempt to walk the path of righteousness that Jesus expressed in two simple commands: “‘Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second is this: ‘Love your neighbour as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these” (Mark 12:29-31).

Mom’s discipleship was made wholly manifest in simply living out the greatest commands: the love of God and the love of neighbour. She accepted people where they were and helped them. She loved God and never ceased supporting ministries near and far or supporting us all with her prayers. From the beginning of her life to the end, on August 27, 2018, she was a woman of steadfast hope and faith and love. But the Apostle Paul asks us not to “grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have died.” (1 Thessalonians 4:13-14). And now her life of faith and hope have come to an end and all that exists for Mom is love.

We do not grieve for our Mother as others do who have no hope, though we do grieve for our great loss, because we know that now she is in the presence of eternal love, reunited with her parents, all thirteen of her siblings who predeceased her, and her many other friends and relatives who have welcomed her home. That little baby from Langham, Saskatchewan whom no one was certain could survive that harsh, cold Saskatchewan winter leaves behind a legacy of love of neighbour and love of God, a legacy of warmth that has spread from her family throughout the world.

When Not Winning is Winning

I was recently nominated for a writing award and attended the Gala Awards ceremony with hundreds of other writers. Some, like my brother, John, and I were finalists in numerous writing categories of work we completed in 2015. Others were there to support friends and family, were event sponsors or were attending the writing conference connected to the Gala.

Finalists feel a mix of emotions when they attend such events. I know I did. If you’re nominated, you feel grateful for the recognition as you’ve probably told others about the nomination and you’re excited about the possibility of going from “Finalist” to “Winner!” But you also harbour some trepidation because statistically there’s always a better chance of losing than winning when you are one of a number of nominees. If you’re not The Winner, you’ll be one of The Losers. The final applause from the audience will not be for you.

So why enter such a competition

You enter a writing competition because you believe that you’ve written a compelling piece that will be recognized by the judges. By being selected as a finalist, you have met their criteria. So what’s the problem. I believe it’s our human condition. We all have some desire to be recognized and applauded for our work. It doesn’t matter if it’s writing, gardening or our regular occupation. We’d like people to say we’ve done a good job. If they say we’ve done a great job, that’s even better. When judges at a writing competition ultimately select someone else, there’s a tendency to think that nominee’s work was great but mine was merely good. I was reminded by one of the judges that my hypothesis is incorrect.

The judge says

But hold on to that envelope please! Before I tell you what the judge said, let me explain one crucial element of this story. This competition was part of The Word Awards sponsored by The Word Guild, a Canadian organization dedicated to “encouraging, equipping and empowering writers and editors who are Christian.” If you join this organization, you must agree with the statement of faith based on the Apostle’s Creed. You can write on many topics and crossover into secular writing but you identify as a Christian even though you may not choose to write on a purely Christian theme. You are writing though because you feel this is God’s calling on your life. So ultimately, God is your judge. He is the One you are writing for. He is the one who decides your personal story arc. Your role is to follow His guidance.

So if God has called you to write, than you should write. Competitions like the Word Awards are a wonderful recognition for the many Christian writers who are doing great work throughout Canada and abroad. But I don’t believe an award should be a Christian writers’ ultimate goal. Our goal should be connected to His plan for our lives. A Christian’s writing—as you are directed by God’s soft whisper or strong direction—should be connected to the Almighty’s hand as He directs your own. And I’m sure other Word Guild members believe this as well. Let me explain how this played out in my life.

Marcus story

My shortlisted blog article was about my grandson, Marcus, who had died at fourteen in a car accident on Boxing Day in 2014. Marcus had made a confession of faith on Boxing Day 2009 and I had read his conversion story What God Wants for Christmas on Boxing Day 2010 at my church as part of a four Sunday reading series I had written for Advent.

Did you notice the day that kept repeating itself? Boxing Day is a definite link in this story but it’s not the only one God whispered in my ear. Or perhaps He shouted. I’m not sure. But I do know God wanted this story told.

What He wanted me to know

I shared Marcus’ conversion story in 2010 and it lay dormant. I had no idea that four years later that story link would have such an impact on so many. As our family struggled with Marcus’ death we were reminded that while we were grieving we could celebrate his promotion to heaven. It gave me great joy to have been part of Marcus’ conversion but more comfort to know he was in Jesus’ arms. I had an incredible peace— a peace that passes all understanding (Philippians 4:7)—that I believe God gave me as we navigated the loss of our grandson. My daughter’s pastor linked the story to his message at Marcus memorial service. And then, less than a week later, an eternal link would occur on the other side of North America that would cement for me God’s sovereign plan in Marcus story.

Marcus story in Haiti

Our friend Laura Mawhinney has been involved in medical missions work in Haiti with Project Aftershock, an organization she founded in 2010. She shared Marcus story in Haiti in January 2015 with a number of orphanages and sixty children accepted Christ as their saviour! This was the story I was nominated for by the Word Guild judges.

Again, I was struck that God wanted our family to know Marcus story is continuing to be told. This was another confirmation of His plan. So while I may not have been the ultimate winner in the Article – Blog category, I do not believe I lost. I believe if God is directing my writing I am winning. This is when not winning is winning. No earthly award trumps God’s heavenly reward.

God in the fine print

And the most recent confirmation of God’s perspective on my story came near the end of the Awards Gala when James M. Houston won the Leslie K. Tarr Award for lifetime achievement. He’s 93 now and was the first president of Regent College in Vancouver. He taught with C.S. Lewis at Oxford before coming to Canada. He put the whole awards in context when he ended his acceptance speech with, “We need to exercise humility of our heart for the grace and mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ and so our applause is to Him, and Him alone.” Dr. Houston reminded us all who should be thanked.  The God of the universe loves each one of us and the sacrifice of His son, Jesus, for our sins so that we can have eternal life is where our applause should be.

So while I continue to write—and even enter other writing competitions to increase my story exposure if that is what God wills—I want to follow the Apostle Peter’s advice: “If anyone speaks, they should do so as one who speaks the very words of God. If anyone serves, they should do so with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ. To him be the glory and the power for ever and ever. Amen.” (1 Peter 4:11)

If God is in the fine print, you are winning.

F.A.T.H.E.R.S. Day

For a number of years I’ve wanted to blog about seven areas of interest to me. I set such an ambitious goal of writing in the blog every day that I was virtually paralyzed in getting started. This year I’ve decided to write once a week. That’s 52 entries versus 365! Let’s see if I can accomplish that before I have any other wild writing ideas!

Jim Martens’ F. A. T. H. E. R. S. Day Blog: “Every day is a day to learn.” I’ll write about Fatherhood, Arts, Teaching, Humor, Education, Resiliency and Storytelling.

Here are the expanded descriptions of the seven areas of interest and why I think I have some expertise to speak about them.

F – Fatherhood’s multi layered palette (For, and about, dads, grand dads, and God the Father, Son & Holy Spirit) – 40 years of experience as a father, and fifteen as a grandfather

A – Art Smart (the benefits of involvement in theatre, visual arts, music, or dance throughout your life) – President of the BC Children’s Art and Literacy Centre, Friend of Pacific Theatre, President of King’s Company

T – Teaching (the craftsmanship of developing your innate and latent talents into teaching artistry in any walk of life) – 34 years in the public school system at all levels (teacher, school-based and district administrator)

H – Humor (Happy Mirthday: the artistry of going from appreciating to initiating more laughter every day in your life and work) – humor workshop presenter, author and emcee for 100s of events

E – Education (creative tales in and out of school) – 34 years in the public school system at all levels (teacher, school-based and district administrator)

R – Resiliency (the smart art of leadership at work and home) – ditto the information in the “Education” section above and, I have been married for 42 years!

S – Storytelling (the skill of spinning personal short stories into lasting family memories) – author/publisher of 7 books incl. “Homespun: How to Save your Family History Through Short Stories.”

Final note: Who am I? – Husband to Nena, father of three, grandfather of seven and retired teacher, principal and area superintendent of schools. I’m also an author, publisher, actor, and director. I would like my blog to be centered on telling stories that shape our personal and shared journey through this earthly life while keeping an eye on our eternal home. I’m hoping I will learn as much as I can as I share my own journey.

Betty Simpson’s Obituary

The Simpson and Martens’ families had the privilege of celebrating Elizabeth (Betty) Simpson’s life on July 20, 2015 at South Delta Baptist Church. Here is her obituary and the slide show that was played during the service can be viewed or downloaded at http://1drv.ms/1LAta0NMomNenaScottTripp:

Elizabeth Walker Simpson – December 31, 1929 – June 25, 2015

 

Elizabeth (Betty) Walker was born in Stonehouse, Scotland on December 31, 1929 to James Walker, a coal miner and Agnes Jardine Walker. Betty was the six child of seven children. Betty’s mother, Agnes, passed away during childbirth when she was only two years old. Her father was now caring for seven children on his own, three of which were under five years of age! Betty didn’t share much about her childhood other than to let us know schooling had its share of cruelty; she told us that if the teacher left the room and heard even one student talking on his return, everyone was punished When she was nineteen she met an award-winning Scottish baker, Joseph Simpson, who had spent some time with the British Army in occupied Germany after WWII. When Joe returned to Scotland he married Betty, now a nursing orderly, in 1950 at Avendale Manse, Strathaven. They immigrated to Canada shortly thereafter. They settled in South Vancouver where daughter Nena was born in 1951 and son Bill in 1953.

 

Grandma Simpson was a homemaker like many moms of the 50s but also helped out Grandpa who co-owned four Better Bakeries in Vancouver. Grandma also worked at the Marine Drive White Spot directly down Ross Street from their home at 58th and Ross in South Vancouver. (Thanks, Grandma! White Spot is still one of our favourite places to dine.) In the summer months, Grandma worked on the May’s Strawberry Farm in Richmond with her good friend Greta Matson.

 

Our Grandma loved to dance and in the 60s, she and Grandpa and many other transplanted Scottish friends would laugh and dance a Saturday night away at a local hall they had rented. She was also actively involved in my mom, Nena, and Uncle Bill’s school events, attending every John Oliver choir performance she could. Grandma even served as a chaperone on the award-winning John Oliver Choir Tour to Great Britain in the summer of 1970. I’ve also been told that Grandma enjoyed bowling, curling and even learnt to swim when she was 50 years old.

 

In 1972, Grandma and Grandpa moved to 50B Street in Tsawwassen. Grandpa was now working for the local Super-Valu and didn’t have the added pressure of owning the bakery business. So once Grandma convinced Grandpa to take more than two weeks of holidays, they settled on cruising and going to Hawaii every year. They spent 35 wonderful years of extended holidays on Waikiki Beach. Every family member, including every spouse and grandchild, spent time in Hawaii with Grandma and Grandpa. They continued to live in the house Grandpa built on 50B until Grandpa’s passing on February 14, 2007.

 

Grandma loved dressing up especially on the many cruises she took with Grandpa. She also loved going to any concerts, performances or sports events featuring her grand children or great-grandchildren. And they, in turn, loved having her there to cheer them on. Grandpa and Grandma Simpson were known to their great grand kids as Grandpa and Grandma Gate because of the large rod iron gate leading to their house. Their great-grand daughter April gave Grandma that name and it stuck!

 

After Grandpa died, Grandma moved across the street to live with Uncle Bill, Aunt Gina, Jordan and Alanna. She lived with them for three years before a stroke dictated, first, a hospital stay and, eventually, extended care at Westshore Laylum in Ladner. While Grandma was reluctant to go initially, Westshore became her happy home for her final five years. Grandma was a long term resident, loved by the staff who cared for as their own special “mom.” The entire family is grateful for such wonderful caring staff and committed caregivers at Westshore Laylum. We are also very thankful for all of Grandma’s friends— both from her days in Vancouver to those she met through South Delta Baptist Church—who visited her and prayed for her throughout her time at Westshore. God bless you and may His face shine upon you. We’d also like to thank the Irene Thomas Hospice volunteers who spent evenings with Grandma during the last week of her life. We are grateful for your selfless acts of love.

 

Grandma was predeceased by her parents, Grandpa Joe, and her great grandson, Marcus. Grandma is survived by her children, Nena & Jim Martens and Bill & Gina Simpson, her grandchildren, Tracy & Paul McCabe, Stephanie & Tre Wright, Scott & Chelsea Martens, Jordan Simpson and Alanna & Kyle Belding and six great-grandchildren: April, Hannah, Sydney, and Luke McCabe, Piper Wright, and Tripp Martens.

 

We are forever grateful that Grandma Simpson gave her life to Jesus at a Christian Women’s meeting in Richmond and attended South Delta Baptist Church with Nena and Bill and her grandchildren for the past 20 years.

 

Grandma Simpson was a loving wife, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother and friend who on June 25, 2015, at West Shore Laylum Care Home, went to be with Jesus. We believe she is now dancing with Grandpa and her great grandson Marcus and we look forward to one day joining her in her eternal home. We are blessed to have known her and to have been loved by her. Until we meet again, Grandma, may God continue to hold you in the palm of His hand.

Marcus Story in Haiti

Just after Marcus Larabie’s death, I gave Laura Mawhinney, Project Aftershock-Haiti’s Founder and Director, a “What God Wants For Christmas” interactive nativity set with book and Marcus’ picture and his salvation story (which you can read here at my website.) She was going to use these items to tell the Jesus story and share Marcus’ story in Haitian orphanages with the street children and youth that live there now.

The following is what happened today (January 8, 2015) in Haiti . . .

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I just got off a Skype call with Laura Mawhinney and Christina Bailey. They were calling from Haiti. And they were excited!

Yesterday, the package I had put together for Laura arrived by FedEx. It was God’s perfect timing because today they were speaking to many children and youth. They shared the Christmas story with the first six gift boxes and then let the kids open and see the mirror in the seventh gift box.

Laura said they spoke to the girls in the orphanage first. There were about 25-30 girls from 4 – 15 listening to Billy, the Creole interpreter, retell the story in their language. One young girl sat on Laura’s lap and looked at the mirror and was the first to ask Jesus into her heart. Many of the older girls said they already knew Jesus. Then Billy read them my account of Marcus’ salvation story, showed them his picture, and slowly the older girls started to confess that they didn’t really have Jesus in their hearts. One by one they came forward to look in the seventh gift box, see themselves and they asked Jesus into their hearts. They wanted to be sure they would go to heaven like Marcus. I believe all but one girl prayed to receive Jesus with Laura, Christina and Billy. Billy said he had never witnessed anything like that before.

After the girls left, the boys arrived to hear the story.  There were about 30 boys at varied ages ready to listen as well. It was now getting dark so Laura had to use a flashlight to highlight the gift boxes and characters. She said she even used the flashlight like the star above Bethlehem. When Billy finished telling the “What God Wants For Christmas” story he shared Marcus’ salvation story again and showed them the picture I sent.

The response was overwhelming. Every boy wanted to make sure they would be in heaven with Marcus.  Laura said they bowed their heads to the ground (like shepherds and wisemen kneeling before the Baby Jesus) and every boy asked Jesus into their heart!

I’ve been praying that Marcus’ last breath on earth would be the catalyst for others to take their first breath towards eternal life. Sixty children and youth took their first step in Haiti today by making the most important decision in this earthly life. We must all, individually and sincerely, ask Jesus to be your Lord and Savior if we want to go to heaven to be with Jesus.

These children have only seen a picture of Marcus. Some day they will actually meet him in heaven. I know Jesus, the angels and Marcus are rejoicing today for each one of these precious souls!

Will you meet Jesus and Marcus some day? Please message me if you want to talk or learn more about Jesus and salvation.

John 3:16-18 – “For God so loved the world that He gave his only Son that whoever believed in him would not perish but have everlasting life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God.”

What God Wants for Christmas

Below is the story I wrote for our church’s Advent season in 2010. It is the story of my grandson Marcus Larabie’s salvation story from Christmas 2009 when he was 9 years old. I have not changed a word as I hope the context and story would speak to those who read it. Marcus went to be with Jesus on Boxing Day, December 26, 2014 due to a tragic car accident. This story has given our family great comfort in a time of grief. My prayer is that it will comfort you, too. Jim Martens (Buppa Jim)

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“What God Wants for Christmas”

A reading for Boxing Day 2010

One story I had the opportunity to share with all six of my grand kids occurred exactly one year ago yesterday. It was Christmas Day 2009. Our immediate family was at my daughter Tracy’s house for Christmas dinner. After dinner I had the privilege of sharing a story with them. But before I tell you what happened last year, you need some background information.

Here at South Delta, from Monday to Friday, the First Steps pre-school has been offering their services to children in families within our church and the larger community for many years. At Christmas time, Director Dawna-Lynn Broadhead has given families a unique gift that’s publicized as an interactive kid-friendly nativity. It’s called “What God Wants for Christmas.” It’s a small box that contains 7 little gift boxes and a story book to follow. Six of the boxes have a major figure from the Christmas nativity – the angel Gabriel, Mary, Joseph, the Baby Jesus, a shepherd and a wiseman. The seventh box is a surprise which I will only share cryptically now and explain later. The objective of this exercise is to tell the nativity story by using the gifts and having the kids open them as the story is read aloud. As you bring out each gift you explain its significance to them and have kids place each figure on an enclosed manger scene. Dawna-Lynn had told Nena that it was a great way to share the nativity story with children.

And as Nena and I have 6 grand kids, the interactive nature of the 6 main nativity figures meant each child would be included. All 6 kids could pick out one gift to hold and open it and share it with the others at the appropriate time. It seemed the perfect story structure for our grand kids that day especially when the 7th gift in the box is actually for everyone to see and observe individually.

As I read the rhyming couplets, the story hinted as to the final gift. At the end of each story it said:

What God wants for Christmas? It’s–to you–a surprise.

In box number seven it is disguised.

But–no peeking! Be patient! For this you must wait.

It’s what you offer Him, and it’s really great!

This was repeated six times. If kids have never experienced this retelling of the nativity story, they are really looking forward to seeing what is in the seventh box. When you finally allow them to look, a smile usually is apparent. Kids are reflective–cryptic reference–and they understand what God wants!

Yes, the seventh box contains a mirror and their own face is reflected back to them. As the story book says:

What God wants for Christmas? Now here’s the surprise

In box number seven, where it’s been disguised.

Peek in the box, for so long you have waited,

What God wants is you‑the one he created!  

~~~

“Me?” you ask. “Why is that so?”

“I cannot wrap me and put on a bow!”

No, you cannot; but what you can give

Are the choices you make in the life that you live.  

~~~

God wants you to know Him and love Him within

And this is called worship, an offering to Him

To do this, trust Jesus, who died in your place

When you didn’t deserve Him—that is called grace.  

~~~

Pray now and offer your life and your heart

Say, “Jesus, I need You. I’d like a new start.

Forgive me today for the sins I’ve committed

So one day in heaven I will be permitted.”  

~~~

When you pray this decision, the heavens rejoice

That you have made worship of God your life’s choice.

God wants you to know Him, so choose every day

To love God and thank God and give Him all praise!

 

When I finished reading a few of the kids said they had already asked Jesus into their hearts. My grand son, Marcus, said, “I haven’t yet.” I said, “Do you want to do that?” To which he replied, “Yes.” And there, with all his cousins sharing in the experience, he repeated a pray of salvation. What a great Christmas evening that was!

We all know that Christmas gifts come in all shapes and sizes but the gift of salvation is the greatest one we can accept no matter if we are 9 or 79.

It’s uncanny how seven little boxes, a poetic retelling of a story that many of us have heard for years, just needed to add a small, but critical, twist and the new gained perspective has been the catalyst to changing young lives for eternity. I don’t know how many children have been affected by this interactive nativity, but I’m one grandfather that knows its importance in my family.

This year, lets remember the significance of the manger and the Child within it. He came that we might have life and live it abundantly. My hope this coming year is that if you have not accepted this Child–who is our Savior and Lord–that you will think on these things. My prayer is that the stories we share in heaven some day will include my family and yours as well.

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Postscript: I didn’t know when I wrote that final sentence, that four years later, to the day, Marcus would be called home to Jesus. If you have not considered Jesus, please do. I would like you to meet my grandson Marcus and I some day and we can share our stories in heaven. May God bless you! (January 6, 2015)