I’m sure that got your attention. When I was a new “green” missionary and we were staying with Grandma and Grandpa Schmid in St. Marc before going to live in Verrettes. Grandma and I were at their house with Karen and Amy but Grandpa and David weren’t there. One evening when we walked into the kitchen there was a LARGE tarantula on the floor by the cook’s feet. She tried to get it but it ran off somewhere. Now of course in my mind at that time (and even today) the only good tarantula is a DEAD tarantula. But grandma assured me that they could not climb up to the second floor where the bedrooms were. We all slept under mosquito nets there BUT she’d have been found out if it had made its way upstairs. Thankfully it must have gone outside again or something because I never saw it again. It was a LONG time before I realized she had not told me the truth but I certainly slept better thinking it couldn’t get upstairs. I can still tell you everyplace in our house that there has been a tarantula. They make a lasting impression on me whether they are inside or outside. Once when I was cutting the lower yard with our power mower, as I came around the square there was a tarantula up on his hind legs. Apparently I had run over his hole on the first go around and he had come out to investigate. Believe me I made a large circle around him.
Speaking of mosquito netting. Mom had told me what to bring and the weeks we lived with them in St Marc before moving to Verrettes she showed me how to make them. I have to say they were great nets because she had me make them like a big box so they were very roomy inside. I had told David that an unspoken wedding vow was that we would always use mosquito nets in Haiti – that was mostly to keep everything out of bed not just mosquitos. We did use them until we returned from our first furlough and I was pregnant with Jeff. They were so hard to get in and out of that after our first night back I gave up. Amazing!
That big old house in St. Marc was really a neat place. It had so many rooms but the wooden walls didn’t go up all the way to the ceiling to let air pass through. One of my first memories was of hearing Dad Schmid laughing so often at night and when asked about it he shared that he was reading the “vet” books written by James Herriot “All things big and small” series. So I got to reading them and laughed with him.
I loved the upstairs because the wind blew through from the ocean. Our first Christmas in Haiti was a hard one for me. My Mom and Dad’s anniversary was Dec. 12 and in 1976 my dad had a surprise celebration for mom and tape recorded all the family talking to us. Dad sent it to me and I was able to listen to everyone talking to me. I was already homesick and that just made me more so. I’m so glad he did that for Mom because it was their last anniversary together. He died in March of 1977. Anyway, Christmas morning we awoke in Verrettes and laid in bed waiting for the girls to wake up. I was feeling pretty low and said I can’t believe it is Christmas morning and it is SO hot and feels like it is still July. We had decorated our little tree we brought with us and Dad Schmid had loaned us a small generator to run the wringer washer once a week so David did light the tree and played Christmas music one night for us until the whole yard was filled with people looking in the windows and it felt like a circus. Anyway, not what I was used to for sure. The girls did wake up and we had a little celebration then took off in our 1956 Blue Jeep for St. Marc. Mom Schmid had the upstairs sitting room decorated and music playing and the cool December ocean breezes made it almost feel like Christmas. I even wore a pair of slacks if I remember correctly (but just upstairs – not so anyone would see me of course). She had made David and I triangle pillows like she and Dad used to read in bed. What a surprise! We still have one that I have recovered (the other one the foam disintegrated). She really did make that first Christmas special and helped me over the hump of homesickness.
Even if none of this interests any of the rest of you it is good for me to be remembering our early years here when God was working (and still is) to mold me into a woman who could be used by Him.
1977 was a hard year for us but more on that later. That is when my Dad and Dad Schmid both went to heaven.
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