Janette Oke

by Laurel Oke Logan

  Shortly after, a neighbor stopped Janette on the street and teased her about how “tough things must be” at home. This person joked about Janette even sending her children out to “look for work.” Upon checking out his meaning, Janette discovered that Laurel had gone up and down the streets, knocking on doors and asking if there was any work for which she could be paid.

  One dear neighbor told the little girl that she had just swept her kitchen floor, but if Laurel would come back the next day, she could do it for her. The little girl did and was paid a few coins and given a little trinket. All in all she considered herself quite successful in her new occupation and couldn’t figure out why her parents discouraged her from “working outside the home” for a few years yet.

  Janette was more than willing to let her daughter help out at home, though this didn’t seem to be nearly as interesting. When one of the boys was sick and the family doctor phoned a prescription to the drugstore, Janette was not able to pick it up so she asked Laurel to run to the store for her. When she asked about how to pay for the item, Janette told her to ask the clerk to “charge” it. It was not unusual for local stores to carry an account for the town people whom they knew well. Laurel asked for an explanation and Janette’s answer was rather vague. “It means we take it now and pay for it later.”

  Soon Laurel was back with the medicine and no more was said. But on the first day of grade one, she received a little list of needed school supplies. So Laurel decided on her own that she would immediately begin her shopping at the drugstore and “charge it.”

  Happily gathering all the items, and feeling quite independent and proud of herself, she was just about to leave the store when the pharmacist pulled her up short. He took the items and then, to her dismay and bewilderment, turned her over his knee and spanked her “for stealing.” It was many years before Janette heard of the incident and felt terrible about the bad experience. But she couldn’t help but laugh at her daughter’s interpretation of “charging.”

  One day while playing alone in the back alley, Laurel had decided to use a glass jar to carry her growing rock collection. But she fell and the jar broke beneath her. Fortunately she cut only her finger on the broken glass. Edward held her hand under running water in the kitchen sink while blood streamed from it and Janette snatched up her purse and keys, loaded the child into the car, and drove off to the emergency room. The doctor sighed at the prospect of sewing up another screaming child, and Janette was asked to help hold her while he began the process.

  To their amazement, Laurel didn’t scream or cry. She simply sat on the stool and watched the procedure, her eyes wide as blood ran down the finger and the doctor drew his thread in and out of the cut. Instead, it was Janette who almost ended up on the floor during the ordeal.

  The boys were no sissies either. They would often comment about some “hurt,” and then not mention it again. Later, Janette would discover that it was something which really should have received attention. She expected more fuss over an injury. Street hockey, hunting gophers with bow and arrow, shooting pellet guns at one another, riding bikes over carefully constructed hazards, or setting up “track and field events” in the basement. The brothers seemed to have a wish to injure themselves in one way or another, and Janette was frequently unaware of their efforts. So she prayed even more fervently and tried to discourage any senseless activities as she became aware of them.

  Chapter Thirty

  Holidays

  Although Janette and her family had now been settled in Didsbury for several years, there were frequent occasions for trips north to visit the farm where she had grown up. And just a few miles down the road from Fred and Amy’s farm, Jack and Ila were busy working a farm of their own. This couple had also been blessed with children—four sons and one daughter—ranging in ages just a little older than Janette’s four. When the Oke family car rolled into the Steeves’ yard, each impatient traveler anticipated good times ahead.

  For Janette and Edward there would be leisure chatter and games, familiar laughter around the kitchen table, and the hustle of meals prepared by many hands to feed many people. There was also the contentment of watching children scurry off to play in the barn, the yards, or the fields nearby, certain that the many cousins could be both playmates and baby-sitters—of sorts.

  Visits to Hoadley included trips for the children to the barn to look for new kittens, riding horses, playing in the hay, helping with the chores, checking out new calves, and playing games in the fields late into the evening. Everyone loved the farm.

  Holiday celebrations were often spent with Jack and Ila, partly because they had the biggest house and also because family was always welcome there. Janette and the aunts filled available beds with cousins and then allowed the rest to scatter across the floor in sleeping bags or blankets. It was fine for everyone concerned. “Uncle Jack’s” farm was one of the few opportunities to stay up really late, and the children took advantage of it, not returning inside until parents themselves were tired or the mosquitoes had chased them in.

  In the winter months there was time for skating, hockey games, toboggan rides, and snowball fights with many aunts and uncles joining right in. After the fun was over, everyone streamed into Ila’s big country kitchen for hot chocolate, fresh-baked bread, and homemade jam. Coats were stacked many layers deep in the entry, and boots piled in such a heap that it was amazing to ever make a matched pair again.

  For Janette’s family, Christmas was not Christmas without cousins. And it was usually celebrated twice—first with the Oke side of the family in Didsbury, and then with the Steeves. They had waited for Christmas all year long—so it was wonderful to be able to have two celebrations in a row.

  There were as many wonderful times to be had farther south in Champion where Joyce and Elmer were farming. Kids loved Uncle Elmer—at least, they usually did. There was one occasion when he slipped on a Halloween mask and poked his head around the door at the unsuspecting twins. He was completely unprepared for their reaction.

  The two screamed and grabbed each other, taking a very long time to calm down again. Uncle Elmer felt bad when he realized how terrified they were. But despite his best apologies, Lorne and Lavon kept a careful eye on him for some time after.

  Joyce and Elmer’s farm provided cousins with plenty of space to play unhindered by adults insisting on quiet and decorum. But occasionally, this freedom had hazardous results. While Janette was busy indoors one day with the other adults, someone burst into the house shouting that Lorne had tumbled out of the second-floor hay-loft door and landed on the cement pad beneath.

  In a moment, all the adults were crowded outside near the barn where Janette ministered to her winded son. Then the whole story poured out. A group of cousins had been building a fort of hay against the loft door, and when one too many bodies entered through one side, Lorne had been pushed out the other. Everyone shrieked and ran to him, but after recovering his wind, he seemed to be no worse for the fall.

  This farm was also where Terry broke his wrist. Joyce’s son Dwain had a small motor bike, and, of course, Terry felt it necessary to take his turn riding it. When the throttle stuck, the bike went out of control and Terry ended up in a heap, not bothering to mention the mishap until they were in the car on their way home. Then he confessed grudgingly, “My wrist still hurts.” Janette took her reluctant son to the hospital in Didsbury for an X-ray, and, sure enough, there was a hairline fracture.

  When summertime did not find the family at one farm or the other, they were often headed to James River Bible Camp. The Missionary Church’s camp offered weeklong meetings each for boys, girls, families, and youth, so everyone was able to find at least one camp meeting to enjoy.

  Janette served as a counselor at girls’ camp on several occasions. This meant that for one week she became live-in mother for several young girls. There were late-night chats and pillow fights, along with practical jokes and quarrels in the cabin. But amidst the activity, Janette began specia
l friendships, some which would last for years to come.

  When fall arrived the family settled back into life at school and work. College students once more converged onto the nearby campus, and this usually brought one or two Steeves relatives to Didsbury. One year Janette’s youngest sister, Sharon, was among them.

  Sharon was the family “student.” She had dived into books early on and had always brought home good grades, even though schooling still was not easy to obtain in the Hoadley area. Sharon, too, had needed to board away from home in order to complete grade twelve.

  After her time at Mountain View, she planned to get her B.A. at Bethel College in Indiana. When she entered the school, she had only a few dollars in her pocket but a mountain of faith. God saw her through, and she completed the year with her bills miraculously covered—though her willingness to work her way through had certainly helped her situation. She was looking toward missions, with linguistics in mind. Sharon had an aptitude for math and languages, and seemed perfect for work in translation.

  When Sharon returned to Didsbury to work at the Royal Bank, she lived with Janette’s family for some time. The house was not large but enough beds were found. The boys and Laurel slept in the basement, while Sharon was given the second bedroom on the main floor.

  Though it certainly had nothing to do with Janette’s well-intentioned exhortation when Sharon was small, she had not grown up spoiled, and she did marry. While Sharon was in Didsbury, a young man seemed to take quite an interest in her—a fine fellow by the name of Richard Fehr.

  Richard and Sharon, after spending time working and taking courses in both North Dakota and North Carolina, and then training at jungle camp in Mexico, left for Papua, New Guinea. By then they already had two children, Shawna and Eric. In fact, Ricky was just a few months old when Janette bid him and his family a tearful goodbye.

  While the Fehrs were still in New Guinea, they sent news home that baby Amy had joined their family. Then Richard began having trouble with severe allergies, and because proper medical treatment was not available, they were soon home again. Now they continued their ministry in their local church, serving in a number of capacities.

  Shortly after Sharon had moved out of their home, Janette had begun plans to redecorate the main floor bedroom for Laurel. First, she gave the room a fresh coat of apricot-colored paint, then hung sheers in a darker shade of peach. She even hung a pair of full-length sheers above the headboard of Laurel’s white bed where they perfectly framed a set of four matching pictures. Dainty girls in dresses and parasols smiled out into the cheerful bedroom. It was charming, and Laurel loved it.

  The boys had rooms in the basement where three bedrooms, a “rumpus room,” a half bath, a large pantry/storage room, and a shop for Edward’s woodworking had been finished over the years. Lorne and Lavon shared a room with a bunk bed, and Terry had a room of his own. The third bedroom had no window but was perfect for a small office for Edward. It became his quiet retreat for many years.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Parade of Life

  As her kids grew, Janette saw the family travel through the typical stages of pets, music lessons, and school functions. A trip to the mall resulted in a cluster of children entering the house with a small box holding two small gerbils. A rather reluctant parent carried the cage in. Fortunately this pair turned out to be especially mild-mannered and even allowed the children to hold and pet them.

  Janette read the brochure about how they played games with their little ones, and finally concluded that gerbils might be interesting and educational. But when they later failed in parenting and turned on their own babies, even though they had been given more than the recommended living space, she soon lost her fascination with them. She could not understand how a mother could kill her own offspring. Through death by natural causes and accidental loss, the gerbils eventually were gone, and their cage set aside.

  Terry began the tradition of piano lessons, plodding up and down scales and counting quarter notes while he tried to talk Janette into letting him off early for the day. A ball glove beckoned invitingly on the seat beside him. Lorne and Lavon did their practicing in much the same fashion.

  In second grade, Laurel followed in their footsteps, trudging to her piano teacher’s house on her way to school. The University of Toronto’s Royal Conservatory of Music provided examinations given across Canada. Edward had passed his “grade eight” level in piano, and Laurel began working her way through each level, spending her allotted half hour each morning with the attempt to learn and memorize some simplified classical piece.

  Occasionally Grandpa Oke would offer his encouragement for the struggling musicians, promising to give a quarter if a piece could be played for him “perfectly.” There were always a few mistakes, but he was a pretty easy audience, and somehow managed to judge that the effort was worthy of the quarter anyway.

  When Terry reached fifth grade, he left piano behind and took up the trumpet. Soon afterward, Lorne and Lavon switched to the saxophone and the clarinet, respectively. Mornings became filled with wild noises. The loud blasting sounds of wind instruments rose from the basement, and careless notes crashed into one another on the living room piano. Janette and Edward’s love of music must have been sorely tested, but the occasional recitals and the proud moments made it all worthwhile.

  For many years Janette had allowed herself to feel justifiable pride in Terry. Of course, she knew he was not angelic, but he had always been very responsible and truthful. Even in the area of discipline, he seemed to accept his punishments as deserved and appeared almost relieved when they were administered. Janette would have staked her honor on Terry’s word alone—until the day in his early teens when she found evidence that he was deeply entrenched in a series of lies. With shocked and wounded heart she went before God, letting her emotions tumble out.

  How could Terry have done this? He knew how important truth was to her. She could accept childish mistakes and forgive errors in judgment, but the lies had cut her deeply. How could she trust this son again? How could she help him see the enormity of what he had lost?

  Once her thoughts and tears were spent, Janette waited—and in the quietness her answer came. “Satan has desired to sift you as wheat, but I have prayed for you.” Christ’s familiar words to Simon Peter echoed in her mind.

  Of course, the tempter also desired her beloved eldest son. In her disappointment she must always understand that Terry had been trapped in his own humanity. The inclinations to evil passed along to him by his parents also made him vulnerable to the lies of the deceiver.

  But what could she do? Suppose he continued to fail? Suppose any one of her children turned away from God? How could she pull them back again? Surely she would give anything to ensure their eternity with Christ.

  Once again she recalled the verse: “But I have prayed for you.” What wonderful assurance God gave to her, reminding her that He was even more concerned about the spiritual well-being of her son than she herself was. She could trust Him. It was not in Janette’s power to protect her children from temptation. Once again the Lord was asking her to place them each back into His hands.

  There could be no hesitation. Her own imperfect ways could not hope to accomplish what her loving Father was waiting to do. She had submitted her own life and then the life of baby Brian; now she would submit again the lives of the children she had been allowed to mother. Peace crept quietly into her heart, releasing her from the burden of worry and confusion. And also releasing Terry from her standard that he be perfect.

  Periodically, notes would arrive home from school that the children were to be involved in a school production. Lorne and Lavon were part of the cast for the musical H.M.S. Pinafore. It was thrilling for them to participate, although some of the stories that drifted home sounded a great deal like the “fun” had more to do with pranks than with performance. But the night of the actual event proved that they had worked hard. Janette was proud to watch the twins and their classmate
s perform.

  Another source of activity for the growing family was the church youth group but, at least in the small town of Didsbury where everything was within walking distance, Janette was not called upon to provide taxi service very often. And many of the other activities—children’s program practices, Christian Service Brigade, Pioneer Girls, and school sports—required little parental involvement.

  Janette’s own church duties included teaching Sunday school and superintending departments. For some time she served as treasurer of the Women’s Missionary Society and was always an active member. There were occasional denominational district committees. At times she wished she could have been more involved in the community happenings in Didsbury, but there were simply too many other priorities that she felt deserved her efforts first.

  One day while Janette was at work and Terry was home on break from school, he decided to do something creative with his time off. Being in junior high, Terry was old enough to be left on his own, but even the most diligent parent has overlooked giving some particular piece of advice and then found out too late.

  The younger siblings in elementary school had been coming home with wax projects. Apparently it appealed to Terry, for he decided to fill some hours making a wax figure. He found Janette’s canning wax and put some in a pan to melt. While waiting he went down to the basement to watch TV.

  It was Curious who insisted Terry get back upstairs and check on his project. When Terry finally responded to the dog’s insistent barking and opened the door at the top of the stairs, he found the kitchen in flames.

  Janette received his phone call at work. Terry carefully told her about the fire, assuring her that he had gotten it out on his own. “But the cupboards are a little scorched,” he added.