Faithbook: Our Story, Our Song

I was born and raised in Houlton on a farm, where family and faith were the foundation of life. My earliest childhood memories are filled with the warmth of home, the laughter of my siblings, and the simple joys of growing up in a close-knit community. I had three siblings—Betty, Larry, and Jean. Jean was the youngest, and I was two years older. One of my earliest memories was when Betty, Larry, and I would go to our cousins, Kay and Marion’s, to stay. When my sister Jean was being born, Larry saw the doctor coming to the farm with his black bag. Not knowing what was happening, Larry believed the doctor had brought Jean in his black bag. As one of several children, I quickly learned the importance of hard work and responsibility. Our family didn’t have much, but we had each other, and that was enough. My parents instilled in us the values of honesty, perseverance, and kindness. We helped with household chores and supported one another through thick and thin. Looking back, I realize tha...

I grew up in a small town where everyone knew each other, and life revolved around hard work and family. Some of my earliest memories are of picking potatoes with my siblings. It was tough work, especially as a child. Mornings were cold, and sometimes I’d cry from the chill, but it was just part of what we did—it was a family effort. As the oldest, I felt the weight of responsibility. Galen and I believed we had it harder because, by the time the younger ones came along, some of the old ways had faded. But that was just how life worked in our family. Through these early hardships, I developed a resilience that carried me through the challenges of life, including raising my own children and grandchildren, offering them guidance and love through their own struggles. Childhood Adventures and Lessons Summers provided a break from farm work, and I always looked forward to visiting my grandmother in Greenfield. She and Grandpa would take us to the fair in Bangor. The first few days were thri...

I grew up in Port Vue, Pennsylvania, in a time when communities were tightly knit, and neighbors looked out for one another. My earliest memories are of walking two miles to school with the neighborhood kids, stopping at the little store by the school on our way home if we were lucky enough to have a few pennies to spare. Life was simple, yet filled with moments that shaped who I would become. Faith has always been a part of my journey, though it has grown and evolved over the years. My first recollection of church was at the Port Vue Methodist Church, a small building on the side of a hill where I attended Sunday school. My parents and grandparents were active in their churches, and that legacy of faith was instilled in me from a young age. My father played piano for the Sunday school, and my mother was in charge of the kitchen, organizing meals and making sure everything ran smoothly. Our home was one where faith was practiced through service, and I saw firsthand how deeply it could ...

I was born into a home where faith was not just something we talked about—it was something we lived. My parents and grandparents were active in the Presbyterian Church, and from my earliest memories, faith was interwoven into the rhythm of our daily lives. One of my first church memories is playing Mary in the Christmas pageant at the Presbyterian Church in Sandusky, Michigan. It seemed fitting, after all, as my name was Mary. But one year, I decided I wanted to be an angel instead. Looking back, that moment reminds me of how faith has shaped my journey—not just standing in one role, but growing, learning, and embracing new ways to serve God. My family moved from Michigan to Pennsylvania when I was in fourth grade. The world was changing around us—assassinations, wars, protests—but my home was a place of love and stability. My father was a hard worker who provided for us, and my mother was endlessly creative, sewing my clothes, gardening, and making our house a home. My brother, John...

My earliest childhood memory is filled with laughter and the warmth of close friendships. I grew up surrounded by friends—Linda, Marjorie, Marie, and Sharyn—all living nearby. We spent most of our time together, playing outside until the sun set, making the world our playground. We climbed trees, rode bicycles, played hide-and-seek, and shared stories that only childhood innocence could create. Sundays were special; we all attended Monticello Methodist Church together. We went to Sunday School, worship services, and participated in MYF (Methodist Youth Fellowship). Those Sundays shaped my understanding of faith and community, teaching me that life was meant to be shared with others in love and joy. As I reflect on how the world has changed since then, I see how personal connections have shifted. When I was young, we didn’t have the technology that dominates life today. We had no television at home until I was around ten or twelve, and even then, it only had a few channels. We shared an...

Faith has been the steady foundation of my life, guiding me through joys and sorrows, shaping my character, and sustaining me through challenges. It has been my anchor, keeping me steady through the storms of life, and my compass, leading me through decisions both big and small. Looking back, I can see how God’s hand has been present in every chapter of my life, guiding my steps and providing strength when I needed it most. I grew up in a Christian home where church was not just a Sunday obligation but a central part of our lives. Church was woven into every part of our week—Sunday School, worship services, and Methodist Youth Fellowship (MYF). Everyone in our small town seemed to go to church; it was simply a way of life. It was in those early years that I developed my deep love for hymns and scripture, as we would often gather as a family to sing songs of faith and read from the Bible. I grew up believing in God, trusting in His plan, and never questioning that He was with me. The si...

One of my earliest childhood memories is walking to school for the very first time. I was in kindergarten, taking those small but significant steps into a new world of learning and growth. It was a crisp autumn morning, and I can still remember the way the leaves crunched beneath my feet. My mother held my hand tightly, reassuring me that everything would be okay. At that moment, I was filled with both excitement and nervousness. This was my first real step into independence, into a world that would soon become familiar but, at that time, felt enormous and unknown. As I grew up, the world around me changed in ways that left a lasting impact on my life. I still remember where I was when President John F. Kennedy was shot. I was at Grant’s department store, a place where I had spent many hours shopping with my family. When I heard the news, I ran through the store, shouting, unable to believe what had happened. Seeing it unfold on television shook me deeply. I cried. It was a moment tha...