Sail Boston 2017 {tall ships}


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The End of an Era {chronicle}


Camp Northfield,

nestled in the hills of northwestern Massachusetts,

where D.L. Moody spent summers preaching,

where he grew up in the little white house (pictured below) 

Residence of Rev. Dwight L. Moody Vintage Postcard

on the campus of what used to be a Christian school (pictured below),

where his family members are buried in the local cemetery 

Campus and Marquand Hall Vintage Postcard

and he is buried on Round Top (photo below),

where the old Moody cabin stands on the campgrounds,

where so many personal and family memories are embedded,

where so many souls have heard and responded to the Gospel since its inception in 1961.

Round Top Postcard If you’re interested in the history of Northfield, Massachusetts, particularly during the Moody years at the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th centuries, here are a few links:

      • Photo of a 1904 postcard depicting the reed organ and tents used in Moody’s ministry.  There is a brief history next to the photo.
      • Brief biography of D.L. Moody by F.B. Meyer.
      • Aerial view of Camp Northfield which straddles Route 10 just south of the NH border.  Or, just north of the Northfield campus is a soccer field which borders a road on its north side.  Directly across that road from the soccer field is a road running north, which is the access road to Camp Northfield.  It runs through private property, the owners of which have graciously withstood camp traffic over the years.
      • Grave of D.L. Moody (photos)

The buildings still stand.  

Some have been added.  

The old farmhouse is gone.  

Trees have been removed.  

Areas have been developed.  

Yet the Word of God is proclaimed in the same way.  

Souls are changed.  

Young people still serve.  

God is still present there, though we are long gone.

It is the end of a personal era for me, this coming of a new director.  There have been four directors in the years since I first worked on this sacred ground, and only one before that in its history.  Last summer saw an interim director, a local retired man active in the church, stepped in temporarily.  I had worked with him in some capacity previously.

At the end of the 2013 season a video was made of the summer.  It is posted on the camp’s Facebook site.  I share the link with you here.

I found this photo on Facebook, of Director Chief Dave Byron and his daughter Jenny, on Mt. Cragg.

Another, taken at Pulpit Falls, where D.L. Moody once preached.

And this, Moody (the Movie), is on Youtube.  It was made in 1985, and is not of Hollywood quality, but the story is accurate and speaks to the heart.

My personal memories, minus photos:

  • Being on staff as a counselor; head of girls’ staff; office and kitchen helper.
  • Family camp fellowship, as a single parent.
  • My quiet time with the LORD.
  • Friends.
  • Labor Day barbecue and fellowship.
  • Singing “It Is Well With My Soul” in chapel.
  • My children as campers and staff.
  • Campfire testimonies.
  • Tearful goodbyes, till we meet again.
  • My verse, 2 Corinthians 4:7 “But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.”

The end of an era.  Mine.

To be treasured.

What memories do you treasure?

What places have been key in your spiritual growth?

Who has encouraged you to grow in Christ?

The Milkweed House {part two of two}


In case you missed it, Part One is here.  We just visited the library and school where I attended first grade, oh so many years ago, in Hinsdale, Massachusetts.  They are on the corners of Maple Street, where I lived.  Now to find the house.  This was an exciting moment for me.  I had looked it up on a satellite map, and was pretty sure the house was still there…  and it was!  Just exactly as I remembered (the road and neighboring houses).  But first…

The house where PAT lived.

The house where PAT lived.

Just around the curve...

and just around the curve…

A new shop across the street

A new shop across the street

Just like that, here it is!

Just like that, here it is!

DSCN6223 - Version 2

Scan 42 - Version 2

DSCN6220 - Version 2

The porch is different on the side.

The porch is different on the side.

The house looks huge to me.  I don’t think we lived in the whole thing, but I don’t remember anyone else living there either.  We rented, of course.  (My father was working in NH, came home on weekends.  We moved to NH when school was out in June.)

Scan 45 - Version 2

These two houses are new, between our house and Pat's.

These two houses are new, between our house and Pat’s.

The hill behind the house on the right is where the milkweed grew.  There was, and still is, a golf course behind these properties, and down the road to the left.

The golf course.

The golf course.

(Below) Looking at Pat’s house from our house.  Pat was younger than I, the youngest in her family of big brothers.  I remember her sending postcards from Florida.  She gave me the copy of Mary Poppins which I still own.

DSCN6209 - Version 2

Scan 40 - Version 2That (above) is where there are two new houses.

And it was at Pat’s that I first watched just a wee part of the Wizard of Oz on television.  We didn’t own a TV, and I was petrified of the house being taken up into the sky.  I remember the feeling of fear, and going into a bedroom to get away.

Milkweed hill.  I loved playing with the pods.

Milkweed hill. I loved playing with the pods.

Scan 41 - Version 2

Easter Sunday.  I think my Grandmother was visiting.

Easter Sunday. I think my Grandmother was visiting.

{Sorry, I got this picture in twice.}  It had been a rough winter.  I was hospitalized with pneumonia.  ~  My mother made the dress I’m wearing.  Can you see the rick-rack along the hem?  I think that dress is going to show up again next year 🙂

My seventh birthday.  Me, Mary, Tricia (aka Pat), Kathleen.

My seventh birthday. Me, Mary, Tricia (aka Pat), Kathleen.

Mary and Kathleen lived across the street but went to a different school I think, and because we weren’t allowed to cross the street on our own we didn’t play much.  The dishes are my mother’s china which my father sent her from Japan when he was stationed in Korea.

My mother's handiwork.

My mother’s handiwork.

When I was growing up there was a clear glass jar, rather good-sized, on the top shelf of the kitchen cupboard, in every house we lived in.  It held a collection of small wooden characters with a toothpick-sized stem underneath, into which could be inserted a birthday candle and it could be stuck into the cake, as seen in the photo above.  There was also a set of plastic pink, blue, yellow, and red candle holders.  I wonder whatever happened to them.  I included this photo in case it might bring back similar memories for you.  I loved getting that jar down to use those holders every year for my mother’s birthday.  And on that note, I bid you Godspeed.