In the book of Exodus we find the story of Moses and the great Exodus of the Israelites from Egypt. The unbelieving Nation that held them captive for hundreds of years. God told Moses who told the people that they would be brought into the "Promised Land" that God himself promised their forefathers, the land of Canaan. After wandering around the desert for years they finally came to the promised land. You would think they would get to walk right in and claim what they had come there for, what was promised them, wouldn't you? Well if you read further than Exodus you will find that there were rivers to cross, giants to be slain, and Kings of many nations to be overthrown before they could claim their land which meant wars to be fought. But why? Wasn't that the land promised them. Why did they have to fight for what was already theirs? Just as in our lives. Our broken hearts, because we had to leave our home, was not the end of the battle. There were giants to slay in the new land that God was bringing us to.
The job my dad was offered was that of a farm hand on the farm where we would live in that old converted horse stable. My dad was never a farmer, he was a truck driver. Now my parents had to depend on people we had just met and occasional visits from our Aunt and Uncle, to help us with every need we had. So another extraordinary challenge faced my already war-torn parents. Yet with a tremendous amount of hard work and fortitude, and faith in God they met this new challenge. They taught themselves how to read, write and speak English. My father and mother worked hard for a couple of years until they earned enough to come to Grand Rapids Mich, where my father was offered a job by former friends from Holland. We moved into the apartment above the Dutch Bakery where dad began to work, although we moved several timesafter that, dad stayed at this bakery until he retired. It was safe, it was secure, it was so dutch.
We all began to go to school and tried to live as the American children lived. Over the course of around six or seven years or so we moved from one country to the other and from on State to the other. My little brother was born, making him the first U.S. citizen in our family, my Dad was 48 and my mom 43. After that my mom threw out the old double bed and purchased twin beds. Funny, as a teen I used to think that was sad, but I get it now. My oldest brother went right back to New Jersey to begin his own farm and later married there. My sister got married and my other brother went off to the Navy, leaving my little brother and I the only ones that lived home. Looking back at all of this, I'm sure my parents heads were spinning. We had already lived in 5 different places in 7 yrs. having to always rent a home. There was never enough money to buy one and call it our own. Each time the kids had to switch schools as well. I would be amiss if I tried to speak for my siblings, but, looking back, I for one generally felt a little lost. I grew up here along with everyone else around us, yet there was always a difference between my family and theirs. My folks never really conformed much to American ways. I can still here my mom say in a disapproving way " dat's not how tings ar-r-re in de Nederlands". Funny now, not so funny then.