boyhood sketch 5. MONEY PANTS

here we were maybe 8 and 3 yrs

I was ten when Murray was five. He was a beautiful boy with long curly blond hair. I had already aged out of long hair and never had curls, simply white blonde waves. Murray wanted to follow me everywhere, and only as he grew older did I welcome him. Two houses up the street from our home at 10 Clark Street was a lane entrance to the Legion Hall and its large parking lot. One late afternoon, Murray and I wandered there. Men came out of the Hall after some drinks and they looked past me and saw Murray. He was an attraction to them, wearing tiny army fatigue trousers with large pockets down the sides of the legs, and that curly hair of course. They were inebriated, and this was one time that being drunk paid off, for Murray that is. By that I mean the men were drunk. And listen to this. The tipsy men told Murray to hold his pockets open. They would try to throw money into his pockets. Everything Murray caught in those pockets, he could keep they said. They threw coins, nickels, dimes and quarters and fifty-cent pieces. His pants became heavy with cash. Then one man jokingly said, "Let's get his pants.” Five year old Murray was sure he meant it. Murray took off, faster than Usain Bolt or any other Olympic sprinter and he was home before the men stopped laughing. They had fine entertainment at a reasonable price. And me? No curly hair and no cash.

I AM 70 & I MISS MY FATHER

My father died five years ago. I wasn’t thinking about Dad as I drove to the Library to work on several communications I will deliver soon. I saw a man walking. His posture, his gait, his hat and glasses instantly activated a memory of my dad. As soon as the idea occurred that it was him, I corrected myself with the comprehension that I had lost him.

I was overcome by a sense of my loss. I miss my dad so much. My brothers Murray and Neale know this loss too, but so do our wives, because he was a gentle man and sweet towards his own sweetheart and to ours as well.

A fresh rush of gratitude fills me now as I recall that this humble soft-spoken factory line worker charmed grandchildren, nieces and nephews and friends. He was a man with whom it was natural to feel safe. He was good company, expected little, asked for nothing, had a generous spirit. If he was lonely when Mom left six months sooner, he kept this private. And then, the man who was always there when I would go home, who never seemed to change, was gone.

“Today, I felt your absence once again, Dad.”

LEGACY

A NEW LEARNING
We are contemplative in this photograph, my brothers and me. We have said farewell to our father, Edward, at 93 the last of the Unruhs of his generation. We are now the next in line.

I am reflecting for a few minutes upon legacy. I am grateful for my heritage. My ancestry derives from Low German speaking (Plautdietsch) Russian Mennonites who were descended from Dutch and Germanic Prussian Anabaptists who emigrated to Russia as early as 1789 and established colonies, homesteaded and farmed in South Russia now known as Ukraine. These people developed colony cities and culture and respect among their Russian hosts and leaders. Queen Catherine the Great welcomed them and Joseph Stalin ended it all with brutal repression. Catherine the Great of Russia issued a Manifesto in 1763 inviting all Europeans to come and settle various pieces of land within Russia. My own genealogical research has informed me of the names and sketchy histories of family members as early as 1725. Throughout those generations my people have been associated with God and the Church as they understood and practiced it. More particularly, in each generation of my paternal Unruh family there have been people involved in full-time church or mission work or lay positions as elders and teachers.

I think today of my brothers and me, three of us. I am five years older than Murray and eleven years older than Neale. Each of us has attended undergraduate Bible College. Each of us has been involved in Christian ministry. I was a pastor for 34 years and a denominational president for 6 years. Murray was a pastor for 15 years (a guess) and Neale was a Christian musician for several years and a International Mission national manager for several more. Presently Murray is an artist part-time and works at a part-time job. Together with his wife Kathy, my brother Neale owns and operates a needlecraft and framing store.

All of our adult children have personal relationships with God and are involved in Christian gatherings or conventional churches. Those that are married are committed to instructing their children to follow Christ as well. Of my five grandchildren, only one has ‘Unruh’ name carrying potential - my son's son. My brother Murray's grandchildren are females. That’s how a line can run out. It is the family of God ultimately that is of greatest importance and comfort.

Brian Doerksen recorded a song some of the words of which say, "as for me and my house we will serve You. As for me and my house we will spend our lives on You." You can hear it here.

1. Murray's youngest son, Drew’s MySpace music site (he has recorded three pieces here) He is a Worship Leader, St. Catharines ON
2. Murray's eldest son, Matt’s music (He is the author of the worship chorus ‘Everlasting’ and sings with Brian Doerksen in this clip) He is also Worship Pastor at Gracepoint Church in White Rock
3. Neale’s Needlecraft Store Website
4. Murray's Art Website
5. My daughter Cari’s Scrapbooking Website
6. My Art Website