As we continue our summer series “traveling” to Norway, we bring you Lars’ own poignant childhood memories in two parts.
Since E. got on to this Norway thing let me bore you with a few items from the past. I was in Norway a total of ten years with Far and Mor (my grandparents). I was separated from my parents when the war broke out and it was ’46 before I could rejoin my family. Wonderful is an inadequate word for Mor and Far. They were servants to all. Far is the only man I know who literally offered his other cheek to an angry man who hit him. He loved the Lord and was the watchman for the church next door for some forty years. Along with that job he worked at a sawmill and often took charge of deliveries with horse and wagon. I recall the day we had to put a horse down. How sad for Far, a lover of working horses. In the summer he would work on the log jam in the river or at times haying on a farm. I can see him swinging a scythe. What pleasure I had to be a part of his life. He would sit at home and read to Mor and me. At times he would play the piano and sing hymns. His voice was good. There was Bible reading, prayer, and church whenever the doors were opened. Well, he opened them. He set the early course of my life. How much less painful my life would have been had I heeded his instructions. Some would say he was too stern but not so. Yes was yes and no was no and he lived the word. One was secure with Far.
Everyone loved Mor—black dress, white collar or the crisp apron. Always concerned with others. She and Far both had a sense of humor. How cozy to be around her. No church picnic or outing to an island could be undertaken without Mor. For who could make hot chocolate like her? Somehow we managed hot chocolate at times during the Occupation. She cleaned, cooked, re-patched patches and made the house a home for Far and me.
**Excerpt originally from The Elisabeth Elliot Newsletter November/December 1993