Please join us as the
Smith family celebrates the home going of a very grand lady, my mother Pearle
Smith. She was a wonderful mother and
wife, having raised three children all the while being the support of her
husband, Tom, as he served in the US Navy.
I have many fond memories of her and there are a few that stand out and
I would like to share them with you:
For a while we lived on her
Uncle Harry’s ranch in Colorado and Mom used to help bring the milk cows in for
milking by riding Uncle Harry’s quarter horse called Bob. Bob was a “cutting” horse and worked well
with cattle but along with all those milk cows there was an old bull. It was a challenge to get the cows into the
corral but keep the bull out. I remember
when I was about six years old Mom and I were riding Bob bareback to bring the
cows in for evening milking. She had on
a jacket with her nickname “Dusty” embroidered across the back. I was hanging on with my arms wrapped around
her waist, and believe me – I was hanging on tight – because that old bull kept
trying to get into the corral. Bob
responded to every move Mom directed by dodging this way and that to block that
old bull. We finally managed to get the
cows in and keep the bull out. When I
think back on this memory I realize I never felt scared and I know it was
because of the confidence Mom exuded. I
imagine this is why I tend to be a confident and positive person – I take after
my mother.
When our family was
stationed at Rota (the US Naval/Air Base in Spain), I remember Mom becoming a
Cub Scout leader. She would have regular
meetings with a number of servicemen’s young boys on our patio at the on-base
housing assigned to us. When the boys
were there she would serve refreshments, help them focus on earning their
badges, and generally let them have fun all the while keeping them well “corralled”
and safe. Sometimes I wonder how those
boys turned out. They would be in their
mid to late 50’s now, but one thing I am sure of – Mom’s values and
encouragements surely made a difference in their lives.
Mom tended to be quiet and
reserved which often hid her intelligence.
I was so impressed when she started teaching a monthly Bible Study at
her church. She would pour over
scriptures, books and commentaries then write up about a three-page typed study
for the ladies of her group to read and discuss. I loved to visit on the weekends these Bible
Studies were held so I could attend too.
It was wonderful fellowship with ladies strong in their faith and it
stirred my heart to go harder after God when I observed Mom’s ministry of
sharing the Word.
There are many more things
I can share, but I guess the story I am most fond of is this: In the mid 1970’s I was the only Christian in
my family. My Dad was searching for God,
although he did not know it. He was
working as a cook at a work camp run by the county (where non-violent inmates
stayed and did work by clearing brush and working to put out fires). Unbeknownst to me he worked with a deputy sheriff
who was a believer and attended a large local church. This deputy was sharing about the Lord with
Dad on a regular basis. When Dad was
home in the evening we would have arguments about God. He would ask questions such as, “You believe
there is only one God, right?”
“Yes,” I would reply.
“Well, if an Indian goes
out and worships just one tree he is worshipping just one god – why can’t he go
to heaven?”
I was only three years old
in the Lord so I would research the Bible and talk to Christian friends and
then come back the next evening with an answer, but then Dad had another
question. All the while this was going
on my Mom would be sitting in the living room reading (or at least that’s what
it appeared she was doing, but come-to-find-out she was listening intently to
us). I remember getting so frustrated
that I just quit arguing about God with Dad, then one week Mom asked me if I
wanted to ride along with her to the Air Force Base in Marysville because she
had to pick up some medicine there. I
went along and about halfway there she asked me why I did not get into ‘discussions’
with Dad anymore. I started to blurt out
angrily about how frustrated those arguments were to me. After I got out all my complaints, Mom – in that
quiet way of hers – said I ought to try discussing God with Dad again. I remember looking right at her and saying, “Why
should I? Nothing’s changed.”
She smiled and replied, “It
wouldn’t be an argument because we went forward in Church and accepted the Lord
two weeks ago.”
I was so stunned I
remember just sitting there with my mouth open!
What a wonderful witness
of God my mother was, and now she is in His very real Presence full of joy and
peace, praising and worshipping Him face to face. I will see her again, and what a story she
will have to tell!
I love you Mom!