Pueblo, Colorado (1930)
Letters from Daddy were always special, but this one brought real news. The District Superintendent had contacted him, asking him to consider pastoring the Pueblo, Colorado church. The pastor had resigned and left. His reply was that he felt it to be the leading of the Lord. Arrangements were made for them to meet at the Pueblo Church the following week.
The church had no parsonage, so no plans could be made for our moving until a house could be rented. Nevertheless, we were very happy that we were to be a united family again. I announced at the next service that my work in the community would terminate when Brother Bolender and the church secured a place for us to live. Regrets were expressed, but all knew I was doing the right thing. The waiting period was longer than I had expected.
Brother Bolender reached the church on the appointed day before the District Superintendent. As he waited, a city vehicle arrived and a man started to remove the electric meter. He immediately asked for an explanation and was informed the bill had not been paid for over three months and they were sent to take the meter. Brother Bolender told them he had just arrived as the new pastor and knew nothing of the past, but assured them all bills …[1]
…to make, she would say, "Just send the children home in the wagon; they will be all right until you get here.” It is not easy to bid farewell to friends like that.
We had 450 miles ahead of us and it was below zero. I led the way driving the Model A Ford. Brother Bolender followed in the truck with our furniture. We made short stops along the way and took time to enjoy the good lunch, but tried to keep to the road as much as possible. I was getting very weary as we neared Denver, when suddenly I opened my eyes just in time to pull the car to the left to avoid hitting a bridge abutment. I was instantly awake. As soon as possible, I pulled to the side turning on my rear blinkers. When the truck pulled along side, I told my husband that I dare not try driving the rest of the way that night. He now took the lead and soon found a large garage on the right. It was a well-lighted garage. On inquiry, he found it remained open all night and was well heated. After satisfactory explanation, we were allowed to drive in. The children and I were transferred to a large car that was in the garage for repair. Brother Bolender got himself as comfortable as possible. We had a good rest and resumed our journey reaching Pueblo at 6:00 a.m. on Saturday morning.
Help arrived early to unload and place chickens in the pen. That day our friend, Rev. P. W. Thomas, who was then President of our Bible School at Colorado Springs, came by. Before he left, I told Brother Bolender to take an emptied packing box, make holes for air, and put three nice chickens in for Brother Thomas to take back to school. That was my tithe. Sunday was a good day of worship and rest. Monday morning when we went out to feed the chickens, the poultry wire was cut from top to bottom. Every chick was gone except one that must have escaped. Needless to say, we were disappointed, but I remember saying, “Thank God the devil did not get the tithe.”
We had some adjustments to make, coming from the wide open rural stretches of Nebraska, to the dirty smoky city nicknamed “the Pittsburg of the West.” The biggest problem was the school. Changing from a small country school where everybody knew everybody to a city school of total strangers was a bitter pill. Warren, being a natural mixer, made it very well; but Juanita, being very timid and nervous, came home many days in tears. There were some very nice people in the church among them. Mrs. Huffman became Juanita's favorite. Mrs. Huffman learned that I did not have a washer, so she insisted I come to her place to do my washing. After school, Brother Bolender would bring the children when he came for me. She always had some kind of treat for them. One day Juanita said, “Sister Huffman, I think you would make a nice Grandma.” She was amused and asked why. The answer came without hesitation, “Because you are so nice and fat.” I was embarrassed, but explained that Mother Bolender was a large, but very neat woman. She was positively adored by our children.
In the Spring, we had a revival. Brother Bolender did the preaching. Two very spiritual young ladies came to have charge of the music. The crowds were good and a good response to the invitation was given -- some to be saved, others seeking Heart Purity. One night, I went to pray with some seekers leaving Juanita sound asleep on the front seat. Later I looked to the other end of the altar and there knelt Juanita. I stepped over and found her sobbing. Kneeling beside her, I began to pray. Soon her crying ceased. She looked up at me with a beaming face and said, “Mama, Jesus has washed my heart white.” She was just past seven; one year younger than I was when I was saved.
[1] Some material missing here.
The church had no parsonage, so no plans could be made for our moving until a house could be rented. Nevertheless, we were very happy that we were to be a united family again. I announced at the next service that my work in the community would terminate when Brother Bolender and the church secured a place for us to live. Regrets were expressed, but all knew I was doing the right thing. The waiting period was longer than I had expected.
Brother Bolender reached the church on the appointed day before the District Superintendent. As he waited, a city vehicle arrived and a man started to remove the electric meter. He immediately asked for an explanation and was informed the bill had not been paid for over three months and they were sent to take the meter. Brother Bolender told them he had just arrived as the new pastor and knew nothing of the past, but assured them all bills …[1]
…to make, she would say, "Just send the children home in the wagon; they will be all right until you get here.” It is not easy to bid farewell to friends like that.
We had 450 miles ahead of us and it was below zero. I led the way driving the Model A Ford. Brother Bolender followed in the truck with our furniture. We made short stops along the way and took time to enjoy the good lunch, but tried to keep to the road as much as possible. I was getting very weary as we neared Denver, when suddenly I opened my eyes just in time to pull the car to the left to avoid hitting a bridge abutment. I was instantly awake. As soon as possible, I pulled to the side turning on my rear blinkers. When the truck pulled along side, I told my husband that I dare not try driving the rest of the way that night. He now took the lead and soon found a large garage on the right. It was a well-lighted garage. On inquiry, he found it remained open all night and was well heated. After satisfactory explanation, we were allowed to drive in. The children and I were transferred to a large car that was in the garage for repair. Brother Bolender got himself as comfortable as possible. We had a good rest and resumed our journey reaching Pueblo at 6:00 a.m. on Saturday morning.
Help arrived early to unload and place chickens in the pen. That day our friend, Rev. P. W. Thomas, who was then President of our Bible School at Colorado Springs, came by. Before he left, I told Brother Bolender to take an emptied packing box, make holes for air, and put three nice chickens in for Brother Thomas to take back to school. That was my tithe. Sunday was a good day of worship and rest. Monday morning when we went out to feed the chickens, the poultry wire was cut from top to bottom. Every chick was gone except one that must have escaped. Needless to say, we were disappointed, but I remember saying, “Thank God the devil did not get the tithe.”
We had some adjustments to make, coming from the wide open rural stretches of Nebraska, to the dirty smoky city nicknamed “the Pittsburg of the West.” The biggest problem was the school. Changing from a small country school where everybody knew everybody to a city school of total strangers was a bitter pill. Warren, being a natural mixer, made it very well; but Juanita, being very timid and nervous, came home many days in tears. There were some very nice people in the church among them. Mrs. Huffman became Juanita's favorite. Mrs. Huffman learned that I did not have a washer, so she insisted I come to her place to do my washing. After school, Brother Bolender would bring the children when he came for me. She always had some kind of treat for them. One day Juanita said, “Sister Huffman, I think you would make a nice Grandma.” She was amused and asked why. The answer came without hesitation, “Because you are so nice and fat.” I was embarrassed, but explained that Mother Bolender was a large, but very neat woman. She was positively adored by our children.
In the Spring, we had a revival. Brother Bolender did the preaching. Two very spiritual young ladies came to have charge of the music. The crowds were good and a good response to the invitation was given -- some to be saved, others seeking Heart Purity. One night, I went to pray with some seekers leaving Juanita sound asleep on the front seat. Later I looked to the other end of the altar and there knelt Juanita. I stepped over and found her sobbing. Kneeling beside her, I began to pray. Soon her crying ceased. She looked up at me with a beaming face and said, “Mama, Jesus has washed my heart white.” She was just past seven; one year younger than I was when I was saved.
[1] Some material missing here.
