What's with Such a Little House?

Why Edmund, Sr. and Mamie Tripp Gates Lived in a Two-Room House

            Recently, I saw a couple of old photographs from the Gates family taken over 100 years ago. I did not recall viewing these pictures of the latter 19^th century. What a window into the past a vintage photograph opens!

            When handed a photograph of the barn on my great-grandparents’ farm in Crawford County, near Girard, Kansas, I remembered Dad’s comment about his grandfather’s barn. I held up the photograph that I had never seen before and stated, “This is why Grandpa and Grandma had such a small house.” Dad had indicated Grandpa  insisted a big barn be constructed first. 

The barn on the Gates farm in Crawford County, Kansas. My grandfather is 

with the horses by the wall of the barn and his younger brother, John, is in 

the doorway of the barn with a team. Standing in the forefront of the photograph

 is John Fredrick Gates, the incredibly successful farmer father of my grandfather.

           In the early 20^th century, when my grandparents married, houses were not sprawling, massive dwellings. Their residences sheltered families and provided a place for family activities – like eating meals together, congregating for evenings of singing and storytelling, and the making of shadow pictures on the walls.
            I vividly recall my father, Edmund Gates, Jr., entertaining me with shadow pictures to get me to sleep. I tried in vain to create the shadow animal pictures with my own little hands.

When writing this blog, I finally made a rabbit!

              According to Dad, making animal shadow pictures on the walls of the tiny living room/family bedroom whiled away many winter evenings. The wood stove would have provided exceptional lighting for the little dexterous hands of my father and his siblings to perfect the shadow animals modeled by their father.
            The Gates family home on the 95-acre farm on the Arkansas River was comprised of two rooms – a kitchen and a living room that doubled as a bedroom at night. Each of five boys, upon promoting out of the baby bed, moved to sleep in the bunkhouse just steps from the little two-room main house. The arrival of the next baby prompted the graduation of a little Gates boy from the baby bed to the bunkhouse!
            Descendants of Ed and Mamie Gates discussed, with consternation, the challenge of raising a family of twelve in such cramped quarters. Then the question often was posed, “Why didn’t they build a larger house?”
            My great-grandfather, John Fredrick Gates, as a hearing-impaired farmer in the late 1800s, succeeded in his work in agriculture, first building the barn as shown in the photograph. At the time of the photograph in 1895, he was age 54, whereas my grandfather, Edmund, Sr. was 18 and his brother, John was 13.
            Then John Fredrick proceeded to his second goal, constructing the house shown in the second photo. He posed with his wife, Elizabeth, also deaf, and his children, Edmund, Sr., Merry, John, and Ella for the photograph taken a few years later.

The John Fredrick Gates Home - posing in front are Merry and Ella, his

daughters, Elizabeth, his wife, and John and Edmund, his sons, and finally the

mastermind behind the entire farming operation.

             John Fredrick’s success couldn’t keep harmony in his family. My grandfather left Kansas disgruntled, settling in Indian Territory, returning only occasionally for business and visiting family.
            Yet even though my grandfather disagreed  sharply with his father, my grandpa carried his father’s goals with him when he settled in Osage County. Grandpa’s first goal was to erect a big barn. Then he wanted to build a large home. One of his children said he wanted to have a room for each child.
            As my mother, his daughter-in-law, Bernyce Gates said, many obstacles got in his way of achieving his dream. First the Great Depression hit in 1929 when he and Grandma had seven children. The Dust Bowl descending on the farm during the 1930s, decimated his early dream for his family. Finally, twelve children diminished that plan for a room for each of his children!
            Grandpa was so committed to his plans for a dream home for his family, he struggled with seeing it "die." He pressed forward with his plans and purchased concrete blocks for the foundation. (As a child, I recall seeing the blocks stacked near the little house.) Yet he died in the same house, only a little bit larger, with renovations of indoor plumbing and a bedroom approved by Grandma, but not by Grandpa. 

The two-room home of Edmund, Sr. and Mamie Gates in August of 1964. The 

fish cleaning table is in the forefront. The only cooling appliance is the window

unit visible on the left of the house. It was only operated if company came. Only

antenna TV here. A wood stove served as the sole source of heating.

            A study of historical figures reveal Grandpa wasn’t the only one who had unrealized goals. Abraham Lincoln tried various business ventures - unsuccessfully. C.S. Lewis, one of my favorite authors, studied and tutored at Oxford University for near 30 years but was never offered the position of professor. Instead that dream of being named chair of medieval and Renaissance studies was realized with a move to Cambridge University. Amy Carmichael, a committed missionary at the turn of the 20^th century, determined to serve in China. Her health prevented that. She was approved for work with at-risk children in India but due to a debilitating fall was confined to bed for the last two decades of her life. During those 20 years, she produced manuscripts forged because of unrealized dreams. Yet Carmichael's writings still inspire today.
            Grandpa was committed to education. He would be astounded how many of his descendants acquired marketable skills and degrees, allowing them to occupy positions of impact that render good in each of their chosen fields. Many of his sons, grandsons, and even great-grandsons could have designed and constructed Grandpa's dream dwelling. Numerous of his descendants exhibit creativity in a myriad of artistic areas.

            Edmund Gates, Sr. was characterized by his children as a man of principles. He valued honesty in thought, word, and effort. His children and so many of their offspring carried on Grandpa’s standard. How much more powerful are the influences of principled people than an edifice of wood and stone!

            Inspired by the Spirit of God, King Solomon penned in Proverbs 16:9 these insightful words for the one who feels dreams have been dashed and unrealized. 
                      A man’s heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.

Father, help us to place our dreams and goals in Your hands, recognizing You may have plans that exceed what we imagined for ourselves. Reveal to us when we need to loosen the grip on our goals and dreams so we can accept an even better plan. Enable us to carry on the legacy of the principles of our ancestors and bring honor to Your name. In the powerful name of Jesus, Amen.

Not a Putdown But a Badge of Honor

                                                                        She’s a Robbins!
            Dora and Ernest Robbins were both short of stature. I have overheard some of their taller descendants tease their shorter cousins with the taunt, “She’s a Robbins.”
           Three of my mother’s great-great-nieces descend not only from the Gates family but also from the family of Ernest and Dora Robbins. One of the girls nodded her head and rolled her eyes when I mentioned the phrase, “She’s a Robbins.” I responded quickly, “That’s a badge of honor.”
           Dora and Ernest were charter members of the Masham Baptist Church, which was the first church I attended. My father loved to tell how the church felt my mother should continue teaching the teenage girls Sunday School class. Mrs. Dora Robbins and Mrs. Myrtle Wills insisted they could care for me in the church nursery. In typical grandmotherly fashion, these two godly women let me do whatever I wanted. I have been told stacking blocks and then knocking them all over the nursery became my favorite activity. When I began to practice at home, Mother and Dad had to “break me” of that activity.
          Even to this day, I refer to them with respect, only being able to call them “Mrs. Robbins” and “Mrs. Wills.” These two visionaries knew the young women in their formative teen years in their church needed a teacher who would teach them God’s Word and how it could apply to their daily lives. These ladies were willing to sacrifice their Sunday mornings to care for me so Mother would teach.
          My grandparents respected the hard work ethic of Ernest and Dora Robbins. My grandma, Gladys Rainey Smith, had in her scrap book an article clipped from The Farmer Stockman. Written in the 1960s, the article deals with the innovations implemented by Mr. Robbins and his middle son, Wayne. (A scan of the article is below. Mr. Robbins and Wayne are pictured at the end of the article.)


           Wayne and Vonnie Laird Robbins, his wife, were not married when I first remember them. Their wedding is the first wedding I recall attending at the Masham Baptist Church. As a little one, I was so disappointed that Grandma clipped out the wedding announcement with a photograph of Vonnie and put it in her scrapbook. I remember insisting I needed a photo of them. This photograph is in our collection.

The photograph that Vonnie gave since

I wanted the newspaper clipping of her

in her wedding dress.

          In other blogs, I have mentioned that at Masham Baptist Church every week- or two-week-long revival concluded with testimony time on Saturday night. One that stood out in my memory was spoken by Wayne Robbins. He was a young husband and father. One statement that he made that evening was, “When we were growing up, there was never a question about going to church. We knew we were going.” Mr. and Mrs. Robbins made it clear to their children – We will serve the Lord.
          Maybe this explains my response to the gibe, “She’s a Robbins.” Being called “a Robbins,” based on the integrity, wisdom, and faith of the patriarch and matriarch, Ernest and Dora, truly is a compliment worthy of emulating. It does not matter whether their descendants are tall or short!
          Roy Lee Robbins and Delcie Robbins Barrett, two of the children of Mr. and Mrs. Robbins remain active members in the Masham Baptist Church along with many other grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and great-great-grandchildren. Many descendants of theirs serve the Lord in numerous ways. What a powerful visualization of the impact of this couple to live out what they read in God’s Word! May we be inspired to do the same in our own families.

“…Choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve,…
As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”
– a quote from Joshua as recorded in Joshua 24:15

Salty, Soothing, Moldable Stuff

Oh No! I Left the Bag Opened!

                My resourceful 93-year-old mother clipped, from the Ponca City News in 2007, a recipe to make homemade play dough. So when I made a batch a few months ago, I had her to thank. Following one of our studies on God’s creation, the Wednesday night kids Bible study group enjoyed molding replicas of things God made.

                A few days later, I pulled some items from my teaching bag only to discover the bag containing the homemade play dough unsealed. In my rush to clean up, I hadn’t closed one of the bags. To my surprise, the homemade modeling dough wasn’t in bad shape. I realized that was because of the ingredients in the homemade play dough, such as salt and oil.

                As I kneaded the play dough to deal with the few, tiny crystals of salt and in turn, make it usable for creating, the scripture came to mind from Matthew 5:13 –

You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt loses its flavor, how shall it be seasoned?

It is good for nothing but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot by men.

               Jesus indicates our faithful living, by the power of His indwelling spirit, provides seasoned preservation in society, in our families, in our worship in our church, in our communities and at our workplaces. Jesus is also recorded in the gospel of Mark, in chapter 9, verse 50 as stating,

Salt is good, but if the salt loses its flavor, how will you season it?

Have salt in yourselves, and have peace with one another.

                 Then I thought What kept the homemade play dough from hardening, being rendered unmoldable? It was the oil primarily. The oil kept the three-month-old homemade play dough pliable and usable. 
                  I recalled multiple times when oil was used to anoint a specific person in the Old Testament. This anointing with oil signified the Spirit of the Lord empowering the individual for leadership such as a king, priest, or prophet. Then Jesus, just before his crucifixion, promised to send His followers the Holy Spirit "...when He, the Spirit of truth, has come, He will guide you into all truth;..." (John 16:13) The Holy Spirit enables the believer to be usable and moldable in the hands of God. 
                 But back to the role of the salt.....The salt's preservative qualities drew water from the play dough to preserve it. This drying action reduced greatly the chance of mold or bacteria thriving since the lack of moisture made growth unlikely.

                Elisha, the Old Testament prophet, was approached by a new city’s developers praising its location but seeking his help for the bad water—so bad that the ground was barren. Elisha requested a bowl of salt and cast it into the water source. He said, “Thus says the Lord: ‘I have healed this water…’”

                Many DIY hacks can be found online using salt as the main ingredient in a cleaner for various tasks. Salt is considered a purifier or cleanser.

                With these thoughts bouncing around in my head, I began to question Lord, what is this preserved play dough in an unsealed bag teaching me? Here are some take-away questions.

1.       Is my life “savory” and “well-seasoned” prompting thirst for Jesus, the Water of Life?

2.       Do my thoughts, words, and actions preserve peace in my family, neighborhood, church, workplace, state, and nation? Or do I add to the pervading putrid decay in our world?

3.       No matter where I enter, whether it be a family gathering. a social media discussion or a controversial meeting, does my presence bring a purifying aspect to the setting, de-escalating it, and resulting in a climate of peace, yet not compromising my Bible-centered world view?

4.       Am I spending quality time with the Lord daily to keep my “savor” and avoid losing my “flavor” and becoming “good for nothing"?

Salty, homemade play dough can not only relieve stress and be used to create fun stuff, but its prominent ingredient illustrates the power of allowing the Holy Spirit of God to work through us.

The kids created a sun, flowers, a giraffe, and 

other detailed sculptures with this homemade

play dough. ( I used yellow food coloring 
since we had more of it than any other color!)

This bag left opened inspired my thoughts about

our saltiness as believers.

 Play Dough Recipe (as it appeared in the Ponca City News on January 21, 2007)

1/2 cup salt
1    cup all-purpose flour
1    tablespoon cream of tartar
1    tablespoon vegetable oil
1    cup water
      liquid food coloring

In a small saucepan, combine all ingredients except the food coloring. Stir until well-mixed, then add food coloring a few drops at a time until desired color is reached. The mixture will start out soupy.
Set the saucepan over medium heat and stir until the mixture begins to clump, dry and gets difficult to move the spoon through, about 3-4 minutes. Remove from the heat and transfer the dough to a dry work surface.
When the dough has cooled to the touch, knead until smooth and cool. To store, refrigerate the dough in plastic bags. 
Makes about 2 cups of dough.

The Exquisite Indian Paintbrush

Spotting an Indian Paintbrush

                Late in May, when checking cattle in the northwest quadrant of Mother’s place, I noticed something red – bright red is unusual in the pasture. Having counted the cattle, I advanced toward the vibrantly-colored object. It was a plant.

The first Indian Paintbrush I sighted in Mother's Pasture.

This plant is the state wild flower of Wyoming. 

                Almost anytime I spot a “pretty flower” in the pasture, I am taken back to walks with Dad. Our Sunday ritual, after returning from church, often found us walking the pasture to check whatever he needed to evaluate. Mother and Grandma would be in the kitchen preparing the mashed potatoes, brown roast gravy, and vegetables to accent the beef roast that had simmered while at church. Our pasture walks accomplished Dad’s two goals - he got his livestock checking done before lunch and entertained an active, little girl. With this done, he could take a Sunday afternoon nap following lunch.

Soon after we had moved to the place that had been bought by my parents, Dad and I, a little-five-year-old, trekked through the pasture each Sunday afternoon prior to lunch. In the spring and summer, he and I looked for the pretty blooms of the wild flowers. Occasionally, he would take out his pocketknife and cut one of the blossoms for me to carry back to the house.

Yet on the recent May morning, well over 50 years later, there was a gorgeous plant blooming that I had never seen. I could hardly wait to get to my book of the wild flowers of Oklahoma to verify this wild wonder.

Later, when driving back to the house, my mind wandered to a verse that I have prayed innumerable times. This longest chapter of the Bible is comprised of one beautiful prayer after another on the topic of God’s word in its 176 verses. Psalm 119:18, requests, Open my eyes, that I may see wondrous things from Your law.

Immediately, I questioned, Do I really get more excited about the great promises and principles of God’s Word. Or Do other things bring me more happiness and enjoyment than reading the Bible? How often does the latest catalog- online or otherwise  of clothing, hunting gear, beauty products, car accessories, or 1,001 other hobbies or interests that “trip our trigger” mean more than our daily time of reading His Word?

Then I opened the Scriptures to Psalm 119.* These verses convicted me of my failure to revere, treasure, and cherish the Word of God.

I have rejoiced in the way of Your testimonies, as much as in all riches. – verse 14

Your testimonies also are my delight and my counselors. – verse 24

I cling to Your testimonies; O Lord, do not put me to shame. – verse 31

Make me walk in the path of Your commandments, For I delight in it. – verse 35

Your statutes have been my songs in the house of my pilgrimage. – verse 54

The law of Your mouth is better to me than thousands of coins of gold and silver. – verse 72

Let Your tender mercies come to me that I may live; For Your law is my delight. – verse 77

How sweet are Your words to my taste, Sweeter than honey to my mouth! – verse 103

Your testimonies I have taken as a heritage forever, For they are the rejoicing of my heart. – verse 111

Therefore I love Your commandments More than gold, yes, than fine gold! – verse 127

I rejoice at Your word as one who finds great treasure. – verse 162

That evening, I read Psalm 119 before I fell asleep, but I awoke the following morning with a heaviness over multiple issues – home and farm maintenance, health of loved ones and farm animals, and 99 other concerns. I needed God’s Word. I opened my Bible to Matthew 11:28-30 and read the verses Mother had memorized during Dad’s illness. I ingested these words of Jesus– Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.

Needing to dig deeper into these three verses, I reached for an older book on the shelf. The book was Studies in Matthew – The King and the Kingdom written by Roland Q. Leavell. A musty smell emitted from the 55-year-old book with my grandfather’s name, Calvin Smith and the date, Jan. 1, 1963.

Grandpa had used it for the week-long annual January Bible study that our church used to have. (That was the beginning of John Kennedy’s third year in the presidency. Grandpa nor anyone else could have foreseen their president would be assassinated before the year’s end.)

In the portion of the book dealing with the Matthew 11:28-30, Grandpa had underlined this sentence - To take his yoke means to enter his school and become a learner in the way of superior, heavenly living.

Each day we have an opportunity to learn from Him, by seeing wondrous things from His Word, and be relieved of burdens weighing us down. Just as I spotted the beauty of the Indian Paintbrush in the pasture, we can daily find in the Bible wonderful truths of wisdom and empowerment to direct us in the way of superior, heavenly living, enabling us to positively impact our world.

*Psalm 119, the longest chapter in the Bible, is organized in 22 sections to coincide with the order of the Hebrew alphabet characters.

Birthday Blessings for a Bender

Turning 90 in the Bend

            Mother and I attended a surprise birthday party for Hubert Hutchens this past week. Hubert, one of my father’s closest friends, celebrated his 90^th birthday on June 26.

            My dad, Edmund Gates, Jr. and Hubert shared some things in common. They were both from large families. Dad had eleven siblings and Hubert had seven. They both chose and married strong women who were only children in their families. Hube and Dad served in the military. Both of their careers of choice, with Dad as a carpenter and Hubert as a welder, demanded battling the weather and required use of their physical strength and problem-solving skills on a daily basis. Once Hubert and Charlotte, his wife, settled in the Big Bend upon relocating from Alaska, Dad and Hube shared their love of cattle production and readily helped each other.

            As we celebrated Hubert’s milestone of nine decades, I asked Charlotte about one of my father’s favorite stories about her marriage to Hubert. Dad always used the word “eloped” which aptly described it. Hubert and Charlotte met in Hominy when she was barely 15 years old. Their dates were always chaperoned by Hube’s older brother, Lloyd.

One of my favorite photos of Charlotte and

Hubert from the early days of their relationship

            Hube’s military induction and a family move by Charlotte’s family interrupted the budding romance. They met up in Charlotte’s new home in the state of California. During their reunion, Charlotte recalled vividly the two of them kneeling at the altar of an empty California church. In her heart, Charlotte pinpointed that moment as the day she committed to love and live with Hubert until death parted them. They made long-range plans for their marriage to take place a few months later. But her mother couldn’t approve of her only daughter, at age 15, marrying a 20-year-old soldier.

            Savvy, determined 15-year-old Charlotte boarded a bus heading east to Colorado right into a snowstorm. Finally, she arrived, knowing everything would be fine now that she was with her beloved soldier. As they applied for their marriage license, worldly-wise Charlotte knew that she was under the required age of 16, with no parental permission. When the clerk asked her age, Charlotte looked directly into her eyes and replied assertive “16.”

            The clerk turned to Hubert, addressing him with the same question. Hubert honestly responded, “20.” To his surprise, he was queried, “Do you have your father’s permission to marry?”

            In Colorado, at that time, a young man had to be of age 21, to marry, unless he had written parental consent. With Hubert’s brother and sister-in-law engineering a solution, they drove to the next county. First, Hubert aged by one year during the trip. His brother called ahead, preparing the way for Hubert and Charlotte by saying, “They can’t spend the night together unmarried.” He was told "get them to the courthouse by 5:30 p.m. and they can be married."

            Upon arriving at the destination, they obtained the marriage license but had to interrupt a poker game so the justice of the peace could perform the ceremony. Ceremony did not accurately describe the event. The poker-playing justice looked at Hubert asking, “Do you take her as your wife?” Immediately, he turned to Charlotte, and asked “Do you take him as your husband?” Promptly, he pronounced them married.

            Fifteen-year-old Charlotte, with a voice full of disappointment, blurted out, “What about the ring?”

            “Oh! If I knew you had a ring, I’d have made a bigger deal of it!” the justice of the peace responded, as he made tracks to get back to his poker game.

            Yet in 2018, Hubert and Charlotte marked 69 years of marriage. Once again, their wedding story is a tangible reminder that marriage is a lifelong commitment, not a fancy wedding that looks stunning on social media, but a promise to each other until death separates.

            Hubert has walked the road of grief following the death of his twin brother, Herb. He and Charlotte mourned the illness and death of their son, John. Yet amidst his own health challenges, Hubert retains a positive outlook on life, focusing on others, and staying active by doing things for others.

            Just a week before his birthday, Hubert appeared at our door with some of his garden produce - zucchini and onions for Ben, my brother-in-law. I mentioned what a milestone his upcoming birthday was. He didn’t respond, “I’ve been really lucky” or “I’m still kicking.” Instead, Hubert replied, with a voice full of gratitude, “God has been gracious to me.”

            Oh. that we can all live with that attitude whether age 20 or age 100! I am reminded of the Psalmist’s poetic worship song in Psalm 63:3-4:

Because Your lovingkindness is better than life,

 My lips shall praise You.

Thus I will bless You while I live;

I will lift up my hands in Your name.

Hubert and Charlotte Hutchens after Hubert was the honored veteran recipient

of a Quilt of Valor on April 8, 2018.

More About Hubert can be accessed at an earlier blog posting at: 

https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2017/06/happy-birthday-to-oldest-man-in-big-bend.html