It was 1969; I was just 14 years old and the oldest of four children. We had just moved from the Seattle area to Cheney, Washington on the Eastern side of the state. Being raised in the city and now moving to a farm community was quite a change for us. It was like being a pioneer in a new land! The weather was much dryer, colder in the winter and hotter in the summer. Neighbors were miles away. We were a little community unto ourselves. If we were stranded in the cold, we could freeze to death. A trip to town meant a major undertaking with four children and busy parents! It brought us together in a way we will not forget.

It was a cold winter that year. We lived in a big,one hundred year old rented farmhouse with high ceilings, located a few miles from this sleepy college town. Wheat fields surrounded us for miles on gently sloping hills of gold. A blanket of snow was on the ground by Thanksgiving.

Dad was working part-time as a grade school principal and attending EWU to finish his master's degree in education. Mom worked full time as an RN for the local nursing home.

We were all enrolled in the local schools and were meeting new friends. I remember that old farmhouse was so cold there was ice on the windows, on the INSIDE! We had to dress quickly on winter mornings and run downstairs to get warm at the oil heater in the dining room. Then it was off to school.

Money was scarce but we were happy on our new adventure. My sister and I became the cooks and housekeepers as Mom was now working full time. I remember homemade sugar cookies and fresh country air. A litter of wiggly, white English Setter pups was born that fall. Snow was on the ground and icecicles hung everywhere like ornaments on a Christmas tree.

As Christmas approached, my folks realized there was just not enough money to buy a Christmas turkey for our dinner. So my Mom went to her bedroom and down on her knees to ask the Lord to provide. On Christmas Eve, Dad and one of my brothers got all bundled up and went up the hill to hunt. There were ducks everywhere but not close enough to shoot. Then, long about noon, seemingly from nowhere came a flock of Canadian geese. Dad shot three times and hit one. He came home with the biggest wild goose we had ever seen! He weighed 14 pounds and his wingspan was about 5 feet! I remember we took pictures of him! He was as tall as me from beak to tail!

Needless to say, we had the best Christmas dinner ever with tender oven roasted wild goose, traditional homemade cornbread dressing, cranberries and all the trimmings! It was then that we saw the principle of faith in action and that God does care and provide for His children. It was an unforgettable Christmas! We still talk about it today, all these years later, and we remain in awe of the Lord who provides!