Telling Stories

We are very excited to present Telling Stories—an event that celebrates the Mennonite Narrative in letters, poetry, short stories and film, on April 1 and 2, at the House of James Bookstore.

Of all the many traits that characterize us as humans, one of the most important is our love of good stories—either telling or hearing them. A good story can be a great means for transmitting truth, passing along our culture, celebrating our heroes, or simply passing time together in a congenial way.

Among the Mennonites there has always been an interest in telling and preserving stories. Books like The Martyrs’ Mirror relate the tales of the ordinary men and women who willingly died for their Anabaptist beliefs. Their stories are woven with the great themes of love and loyalty, self-sacrifice and extraordinary courage.

For many of us who grew up during the end of the twentieth century, our grandparents’ stories of sudden and harried flight from the USSR became the backdrop of our own lives. I vividly recall the stories that my grandfather told us. Some were terribly sad, as he told of family and friends who died tragically at the hands of the Bolsheviks. Other stories were full of suspense and adventure, and helped me to see my grandfather as the brave, stalwart young preacher that he’d been. Still other stories that Opa told were very funny, and he recalled them with much laughter and happiness—and since he was not a vain man, he often told these stories on himself.

Telling Stories will feature the works of several Mennonite writers, poets and storytellers from the Fraser Valley. Each evening will vary somewhat from the other, with writers telling different stories in different ways. The published works of the writers will be available for perusing and purchasing. To add to the event, some musicians will present a selection of wonderful songs from the Mennonite past.

This is a free event, open to the public, and you are invited to attend. Come, enjoy some stories, music and a cup of coffee—sorry, Prips will not be served.

Saying Goodbye

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Yesterday we paused to say, “Good-bye” to Susanne Willms Thielman. We had anticipated this day for some time, for Auntie Susanne was nearly ninety-seven years old and, although she was always cheerful and enthusiastic about life, her ability to live it had begun to wane noticeably in the last year.

The morning dawned blustery, grey and rainy. I remarked to my cousin Selma, “It’s not going to be very pleasant at the cemetery, is it?” and she responded pleasantly, “Well, I’ve prayed about it, and we may get a sunny break. We’ll see.” And indeed, about half an hour before we were scheduled to gather the clouds parted, the sun shone down, and the air warmed up. By the time that about twenty of us met at the South Poplar Cemetery, the day looked wonderful. Auntie Susanne, who always looked on the bright side of things, would have been delighted.

My cousin, Walter Willms (Susanne’s oldest nephew), led the graveside service. He talked about the sunny, kindly person Auntie Susanne had been, and of our sure hope that she is in the Lord’s very presence right now, and that we will all be together again. Anne, Walter’s wife, led us in singing—

Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father,

There is no shadow of turning with Thee,

Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not,

As Thou hast been, Thou forever will be.

Great is Thy faithfulness!

Great is Thy faithfulness!

Morning by morning new mercies I see.

All I have needed Thy hand hath provided—

Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me!

Gerry Thielman (Auntie Susanne’s older son), with his son Joseph, had flown from Fredericksburg VA to bring his mother’s ashes to be buried in her parents’ grave here in Abbotsford. Gerry also spoke briefly of how special his mother had been— a kind and cheerful person who had blessed the lives of people wherever she’d been. Gerry brought out the beautiful casket that contained his mother’s ashes and, after showing it to all of us, he gently placed it into the ground over his grandfather’s grave. Then we quickly drove across town to the Garden Park Tower, where another thirty or so friends joined us for a tea that Selma and her sister MarieAnne had prepared. Several people, including Susanne’s youngest brother John, spoke about her. Anne led us in another song, and then we had a good time of eating and visiting.

As I considered the day, I thought to myself that Auntie Susanne really went out on a high note. Despite her age, infirmities and increasing hearing impairment, she refused to complain. Rather she was as she had always been— a person who consistently and cheerfully loved and encouraged the people around her. She had completed her course—and she’d completed her memoir, which she’d seen published as a beautiful book that has been embraced by many readers, who will be blessed by the story that she told. What a great legacy to leave behind.

Yesterday, I had to think also of the legacy that, sooner or later, I will leave behind. Will I have family and friends who will get up on that day and say that I loved and encouraged them? Will my sons say that I was a good dad to them and (I hope) a good grandfather to their children? Will I leave behind a significant piece of work—something that will, in my absence, bless people and cause them to consider their own lives? Will there be those who will say—“He caused me to consider my own need of Jesus”?

I think these are important questions that we need to ask ourselves, and more often than we do.

—Neil Klassen

My Darling Auntie – A Life Well Lived It was just last month, on February 7^th, that I lost my Auntie Susanne, a dear friend and a loving mentor who has influenced my life in so many positive ways. I’m going to miss her smile, her laughter and her interest in life. Hers was a life well lived, so there are few regrets—for she was, after all, nearly ninety-seven when she died.

Susanne was born in the Molochna, Ukraine in 1914—the year that WWI started. She was only three and a half years old when the Russian Revolution took place. My father, Susanne’s second brother, was five years older than she.

Susanne grew into her teen years in the USSR and saw how the world changed from prosperity to devastation in a few years. She saw the beginning of the Stalin Era, during which as many as sixty millions Soviet citizens were killed by the Communist regime. In 1929, when Susanne was fifteen years old, her parents seized the opportunity to escape from Russia. They came to Canada with nothing but a small trunk containing her father’s diary pasted to its insides, some family photos and a few necessities.

When the Willms family settled in Abbotsford, Susanne had to work as a house maid in a rich family’s home, and contribute her wages to help pay for her family’s Reiseschuld or travel debt. Later she became a practical nurse. I imagine that her natural cheerfulness did much to improve her patients’ health.

Auntie Susanne married in the early 1950s, when I was fourteen. Together with two of my sisters and two cousins, I was a bridesmaid in her wedding party. We wore full length, pale blue taffeta dresses, which had full net overskirts—very much in style at the time. Her husband, George, was a professor at the University in Atlanta and so she moved there. Susanne gave birth to two sons when she was in her forties—she enjoyed raising her sons very much. I visited her there in Atlanta and remember Gerhard and Hans riding their tricycles up and down the driveway as Auntie Susanne sat in a lawn chair observing and enjoying them.

When Auntie Susanne was in her sixties she, Uncle George and the boys moved to Seattle, where Uncle George taught political science at the University of Washington. Auntie Susanne took a writing course so that she would be able to record the stories of her childhood and youth. I remember her telling these stories to me when we went to visit with her in Seattle, and there was often laughter in her voice as she recalled these events of her life.

Auntie Susanne completed her memoirs during that time and I found much joy in reading them. Because her father had been a writer and a published author, my auntie also had an interest and an inherited flare in the art of writing.

When she came to live in Abbotsford in 2008, I encouraged her to publish her work. I had the pleasure of introducing Auntie Susanne to my editor friend, Phil Sherwood, who helped my auntie to perfect a final version of her manuscript. I created a series of watercolours, which were produced as a set of sepia toned illustrations in the book. In early fall of 2009 my auntie’s dream became a reality when she published and launched her book—Susanne Remembers.

With the book in hand, Auntie Susanne spent several months with us here in the Fraser Valley promoting her book. I recall how much she and I enjoyed the book launch at The Reach, our local museum and art gallery here in Abbotsford, and touring churches and different venues, selling and signing her beautiful book. Despite her considerable hearing difficulties, she always had a smile and a word of interest for the people that she met.

In early spring of 2010 she had the pleasure of seeing her book awarded a prize—the Abbotsford Arts Council named it as the best literary arts achievement of that year. Auntie Susanne just beamed as we went up to receive the prize.

Auntie Susanne returned to Fredericksburg, VA, in late spring of 2010, to live with her son Gerhard, his wife Judy and their six children. She was with them until after Christmas. In January she went into hospital there, suffering from various illnesses. On February 7^th she went quietly in the presence of the Lord.

When I consider the woman that I knew, there are so many things that I have been able to learn from my Auntie Susanne. I know that, despite all the dangers, difficulties and hardships she encountered in her youth, she was always cheerful about life and lived with a sense of wonder and delight about the things around her. Her smile and quiet sense of humor touched many lives and we have all benefited by our close proximity to her.

Auntie Susanne will be part of my memories and in my heart forever.