Nappanee Advance-News, Volume 135, Number 42, Nappanee, Elkhart County, 20 October 2016 — Page 4

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Advance News • Thursday, October 20, 2016

Turkey dinner I hope this makes sense. I like Turkey Day better than Thanksgiving. There is a difference, you know. Thanksgiving is a national holiday. It usually indudes a turkey dinner but it doesn't stop there. You have mashed potatoes and gravy, you got yams (with or without marshmallows), a vegetable tray nobody eats, dives, pickles, pickles, and pickles, pie, pie, pie,

pie, and more pie, green beans made with cream of mushroom soup and fried onion topping, stuffing, a slice of ham for Unde Milton who

doesn't like turkey, which brings up the relatives you like and the ones you don't like so much, and most of all, looming over your head like the Sword of Damodes, you have a Time Limit! Everything has to be done at the same moment and served hot, and you still don't know if Aunt Ethel and your cousin Marleybone aren't going to ruin everything by bringing up something that happened ten years ago. Turkey Day is much easier. You cook a turkey, just like you'd cook any dinner. You make some kind of potatoes, if you feel like it. Maybe even instant mashed potatoes. Stuffing is optional. You sit down and eat when it's finished and there's no time limit. You wash the dishes afterwards and then you have leftovers for the next four or five days. How often can you eat turkey and gravy over bread? Four or five days, at least! Best of all, you don't have to invite everybody. Just the people you like. We hiad Turkey Day a couple weeks ago. My wife Jennie said, "Let s cook that turkey in the freezer." Sounded good. Guess what? She cooked it on the grill. Got the coals good and hot, stacked them on each side of the barbecue, added coals every hour or so, and voila! Turkey Day! We added four strips of bacon, stretched across the turkey, to baste it. Once the bacon was baked to a crisp they all disappeared. Wonder where they went? Then Jennie called our oldest son, Francisco, and asked if he and his family would mind mind if we brought over a cooked turkey. Francisco produced a loaf of bread, Jennie made vegetables in the steamer, and I propped the turkey in its pan in the back of the van with some stones from Jennie's garden to keep it from rolling over. It made the drive intact. Once at our son's house I sliced the turkey, and despite the fact I was wearing my brand new In-N-Out Burger sWt I'd purchased in St. George, Utah, I didn't get any grease on me at all! Someone set plates on the table, seven of us took our places, we shared a prayer of thanks (it doesn't have to be Thanksgiving to pray), and ate. It was one of the best turkeys I've ever tasted. Not only that, we were all full, but we weren't stuffed. Nobody was food drunk. We even had a nice low-cal pie. The best part was we had plenty of leftovers for the next few days. Not like that guy at the end of the movie "A Christmas Story," whose dreams of turkey and turkey leftovers are dashed when the neighbor's dogs make a hash of their holiday dinner. Ah. Turkey sandwiches. Turkey and gravy over bread. Cold turkey stolen out of the fridge. No muss. No fuss. No stress. No relatives you don't like. Just relatives you love. Turkey Day. I'll take it over Thanksgiving every time. Frank Ramirez is the Senior Pastor of the Union Center Church of the Brethren.

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County Road Seven By Frank Ramirez

Community

And before I knew it...

Stevie Nicks wailed about it. Janis lan reflected upon it. ABBA discoed to it. And hey, even Kip Winger crooned about it. Okay, so that last one was a freebie chuckle. What can I say...l came of age in the 'Bos, the era of big ol' hair bands. Kind of makes you want to warble

in Sesame Street style, "One of these things is not like the other..." But what is the common thread between these musicians? They are all known for singing about the phenomenon of turning 17. And that is especially significant to me at the moment, because this past week, my baby girl, my firstborn, the one who made me a mother, celebrated her 17th birthday. "Next year, 1 can vote!" she told me proudly. That was followed by a snort, then projectile liquid spewing from my nose as I sipped from a water bottle. I shouldn't be quite so surprised that this was one of her first thoughts. This girl, or rather, this young lady, has always done life her way, on her terms. She does not cave to trends, she does not run with the pack, and she fiercely maintains her own sense of self. She always has. And her friends love her for who she is. For what she stands for. We should live so freely. Heck, she didn't even enter this world the way we thought she would. My original due date was November 3. 1 was blessed with many lovely showers, including a sweet affair hosted by our own Merrie Chapman and our mutual, beautiful friend, the late Kathy George. Forever the "Dream Team," my dear ladies. All of the pictures captured during this time are increasingly comical to look upon now. My small frame, at just under 5' 4", boasted this gargantuan belly. How I ever stayed upright in that final trimester, I will never know. I became a human Weeble. On October 12, I had my usual weekly visit with my perinatologist. I had been referred to Specialists weeks earlier, battling pre-eclampsia that was not responding well to treatment. I described my general state of mind and body with the doctor that day, making note of the peculiar little twinges that clutched at my midsection. His eyes grew wide as he rested his hand on my stomach. "My dear, I think you are in labor," he said. I was given time to rush home and grab my suitcase, then we were off to Mishawaka for the anticipated delivery at St. Joseph's Hospital. Once I was settled, time slowed painfully down. Literally. Way, way down. Twenty-eight hours later, after far 100 many complications to even attempt to describe, my darling girl finally arrived.

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WQrHRATIPR st. Joseph t i 3 lull lilt II til COUNTY IN Real Estate and Auction Company. Inc ' JLAND AUCJION i: ■ ■■ Hi INSPECTION DATES: Thursday, October 13 ‘ 3 - 5:00 PM Saturday. October 22 • i R<’pieienlntive JSSI |HK 'r I ,’V '•*;> r CALL FOR A COLOR BROCHURE OR MORE INFORMATION 800-451-2709 • www.schraderauction.com

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Wisdom and Whimsy By Amy Lant-Wenger

response. The nurses rubbed her tiny limbs vigorously, and at last, I heard a slight, somewhat angry screech. They handed her to me, her body bright pink but her head still blue. She fussed a bit more, and then the nurses whisked her away to the NICU. The time was about 7 p.m. on October 13th, 1999. Hannah Gabrielle Wenger was here at last. She and 1 remained in the hospital for eight long days. My baby girl was ill, jaundiced, and unable to nurse. I had medical issues as well. But we certainly had time to bond, she and I. Because she had to be given intravenous antibiotics for the first few days of her fragile life, she had a small port inserted into her foot so that the nurses could administer her medications. "Why her foot?" 1 inquired. The nurses laughed and told me that my little stinker pulled it out from everywhere else they tried to place it. Eventually, we went home to be a family, to begin our mother-daughter adventures. She barely spoke a word until she turned 2, and then the veritable floodgates opened. She taught herself how to read. How to write. How to ride a two-wheeler. And then 1 witnessed the enormity of her heart. Like the time she insisted that 1 drive her to the Dented Can, where she quietly bought S6O worth of food, with her own money, and then asked me to take her to the Open Door pantry so that others would not suffer as we had during the recession. Or the time she won a brand new bicycle in the Wakarusa bike rodeo, but told the officer she didn't want to take it, because she already had a nice bike. She wanted someone else to have it. And then there was this past Christmas, the first one without my dad, who had passed away less than a month earlier. Hannah handed me a small box, in which contained a silver locket with a picture, of my father. She knew the day would be difficult. And she understood. My Hannah amazes me daily. She is compassionate, she is intelligent, and she loves all people, all creatures. She doesn't comprehend the practices of hatred or intolerance, and does not stand for it in others. She is an actress and an artist, a scholar and a dreamer, loyal to the ends of the Earth. I cannot wait to see what the future holds for her as a woman, for us as a family. But wherever and however she goes and grows...she is my baby girl for always.

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Nothing I had read in my dog-eared copy of "What to Expect When You're Expecting" prepared us for what followed. She was silent. She was motionless. She was blue. "When will she cry?" I asked. No

Homecoming DAT photos North Wood High School football homecoming was held last week. The following are Homecoming candidates and king and queen. ABOVE: junior reps Juan Pantoja and Ingrid Andersen; sophomore reps Matthew Lehman and Sydney Kuhn; frosh reps Skyler Duerksen and Cierra Brinkerhoff LEFT: senior king and queen candidates: Eli Aukerman, Sara Bowling, Luke Zurcher (king), Madison Kuhn (queen); Jaron Mullet and Brittani Shields. BELOW: Silas Fervida, crown bearer, and Addison Hummel, flower girl.