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| MY STORY |
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Author:
Pearl Armina Jordan Peterson Johnson, |
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dob: September 15, 1915 I believe God had his hand on my life from the very beginning (Psalms 139). When I was six months old my father and mother were going home through a woods. My father fell with me and I sustained a serious injury on my right thigh, My parents were not aware I was injured until they noticed I cried each time I was diapered. I had developed osteomyelitis in the bone of my leg which resulted in three different surgeries. I remember little of my life before the death of my mother. I have two fleeting memories of my mother: one was when she poured boiling water on her leg while draining boiled potatoes. I remember a fire in our little house and we had to leave in the wintertime. My mother wrapped a quilt around herself and we three children were pulled on a sled. I also remember when my father shot a deer and brought it into the house. I lost my mother when I was 5 ½ years old. She was only 25 years old. I remember the black casket on two saw horses in the home of Aunt Alice. I remember asking Grandpa Dailey to lift me us so I could see. There lay my young mother all in white. At the time I did not realize how great my loss was, but later I longed to have my mother back again to love and care fore me. But God was there all the time. We lived with Grandpa and Grandma Dailey for a couple of years. As long as we were with them we were loved and cared for. The loss of my mother was especially hard on Grandpa. He carried a picture of her on his watch fob for years. We lived in a long two-roomed log house with an upstairs. It had a breezeway type of hall to the kitchen, which was a separate building. Our meals were eaten in the main house so there was a great deal of carrying back and forth. We had many good times at Grandpa and Grandma Daileys. There was Aunt Della who lived close and we played there many times. I remember a very old truck that we played in. Then there was Crooked Creek that lay on the other side of the road. It was more like a small river and in the springtime went by in a turbulent way. When my youngest brother, Clinton was about three and Harold was four-and-a half and I around six-and-a half, we were down by the creek's edge throwing in stones. My little brother said, 'I can throw this big one in!" He did and went in with the stone. I ran up to the house and Aunt Irma came running. She saw where he was and jumped into the cold water, clothes and all and rescued him. Both of them had to go to bed and get warmed up. They didn't get sick at all. We also had an old log ice house. Grandpa cut ice in the river in winter, hauled it to the icehouse and covered all of the ice with sawdust. When we wanted to make ice cream, we would get a big piece of ice, break it up and make it with nice rich cream from Grandpa's cows. Sometimes we had strawberries or blueberries with the ice cream. Another thing we loved to do was slide down the haystack near the barn. What fun it was to bring down hay with us and land in a big pile of hat at the bottom! We slept in a big wooden bed in the log house. The headboard was solid wood and very tall. Harold and I would take our afternoon nap in that bed and Grandma and Clinton in another bed. We could peek around his big headboard and get Clinton to laugh. Grandma was patient for a while, but we would get a paddling if we kept it up. I remember the big wooden wash tub for bathing. The washing machine was shaped like a large barrel that had a handle, which you turned by hand. The older people would take turns at the machine. I remember playing 'Annie-I-Over" on our log kitchen building. What fun that was! Our aunts and uncles would join in with us. I remember how much they loved us and wanted to much to fill in the lap of the loss of our mother. Another memory I have is of the country school. My uncle Sidney was about six years older than I was and he drove the horse and buggy to school. We carried our lunch in a syrup pail. Everyday we crossed Crooked Creek at another place near Grandpa Dailey's home and there were always Indian children standing ready to throw stones at us. We went past them at a gallop and that was exciting. Many times my Grandma gave this Indian family homemade bread. They were never denied if she had some to give to them. After about two years my father remarried and he and my stepmother, Rose came and got us. My dad never helped to support us while we were at Grandma and Grandpa's. One winter Grandma Dailey went to St. Paul and worked so she could buy warm clothing for us. My father married a German Lutheran woman who thought my mother a 'heathen" because we were not sprinkled. Finally my dad gave in and we were baptized. I was ten years old at the time. Both of my parents had been our spiritual sponsors, but they never carried through their responsibility. My stepmother was kind at first, but my father did not prove to be a good provider, so her attitude toward us changed. We were to keep out of her sight as much as possible. When we came home in the winter, we were sent upstairs to our cold bedroom. I usually brought home books from school and read to my brothers. I loved to read! In nice weather we played outside. I loved to play jacks and jump rope. I became a very good jack's player. I was also the baby sitter. In a year we had a baby half-brother, Billy. He had such big beautiful blue eyes like my father. One time when he was three, I took him to school with me. My stepmother had made me a pink dress, which I wore, and he wore a little blue suit and a sailor hat. He was a good little boy and I loved him dearly. Later a sister was born. Her name is Dorothy. She became my special charge too. I was eleven then. In another year we were all separated as a family. In the four years I was with my own father, I attended five schools. I was put back one year when I moved to the cities with them and then I failed one year before I left them. So I graduated a year or so later from high school. When my dad and stepmother were married, she had bought a great deal of furniture, but gradually most of it went back to the store because payments could not be made. The only luxury spared us was a wind-up victrola and many records. We enjoyed that so much. About this time another brother was born who was name Robert James. He was born at home. I remember Rose was very ill as she had scarlet fever and little Robert got it too. He did not live through this illness. I believe this illness and the financial problems as well as my father's unfaithfulness to Rose made her make the decision to leave. One morning we children arose and no one was around. Rose had taken her children and gone to her parental home in Wisconsin. For two weeks we children went without proper supervision and food. My father hardly ever came home. Finally the neighbors reported our plight to the St Paul Welfare. It wasn't long until they came and got us. They had thought of putting us in the Children's orphanage in Owatonna, but I was almost twelve and too old to go there, so they separated us and we were placed in different homes. I felt so bad that I had to be separated from my brothers. Clinton was only eight, Harold was ten and I was eleven-and-a-half. But God knew my sorrow and loneliness. Many times I would wonder why I couldn't have a mother who loved me. The first home I was placed in was in South St Paul. I was only there a very short time; when the lady had to have serious surgery and I had to go to another home. This was very upsetting to be uprooted again. This lady was very kind to me. She had to rid me of lice and did so right away. I felt very sad about my new foster mother getting sick, but I can see God's hand in it. If I had not been placed in the next home, I would never have met my adoptive mother. I was then placed in the home of Harold Lindlof's on the East Side of St Paul. The Lindlofs had two children of their own. She was a dear Christian lady who showed real Christian love and compassion for me. It was here I started to attend a Baptist church and Florence Peterson was my Sunday school teacher. I loved Sunday school and church, my teacher was impressed with my eagerness to learn about Jesus. Mrs. Lindlof let me do something I had never done before under supervision. Every Monday noon I'd come home for lunch and she showed me how to make potato balls from mashed potatoes. She was usually busy washing so I helped her in this way. One day, after living with her for about five months, my own father called me on the telephone. This had never happened before. Up to this point he was supposed to be paying toward our support but he wasn't keep up his side of the bargain. He was either to pay or give us up to the State of Minnesota. This call was to inform me that he was giving us up. Now my stepmother and my own father rejected us. Besides, I would lose my lovely home at Lindlof's. As soon as we hung up, I burst our crying hysterically Mrs. Lindlof tried to comfort me and finally she said, 'Come, Pearl, let's us pray about it." She prayed God would provide a good home for me. I felt so much better after we had prayed. The next week at Women's Prayer Meeting she requested prayer for me that someone would feel they should take me into their home, especially someone from the church. Florence Peterson, my Sunday school teacher was at this meeting. She and Harry, her husband had been Christians just a few short years. They had never been bless with a family but had tried to adopt baby without success. She told me later that when she heard this request it was as if the Lord laid his hand on her shoulder and told her this was what she should so. Before I was sent off to the orphanage in Owatonna, Mrs. Peterson invited me over to her house for lunch. She was so kind to me. Soon my brothers and I were on the train to the orphanage. A woman came for us and rode on the train with us. Later I learned that she was the sister-in-law of one of Mrs. Peterson's closest friends. This was the link God used to enable my folks to take me out of the orphanage in Owatonna. I shall never forget the day I was called to go to the office because I had company. Imagine my surprise when I saw my Sunday school teacher and her husband! While we were visiting, she asked me if I knew of a girl about my age that would like a home for the summer. I said, 'Oh, take me, please!" They said they would think and pray about it. Several months later I found myself on the train again, this time to the home of my Sunday school teacher. She told me years later that it was difficult to decide to take a girl twelve years old, but she couldn't get away from it. Relatives and friends warned her that they might have a lot of trouble rearing me; my background was not very good and many habits had already been formed that would have to be changed. No one really encouraged them, but they believed God and trusted in Him. They were so loving and patient with me, always witnessing of how God had led them in their lives. Within a year I had given my heart to the Lord. I had formed some bad language habits and there was so much to learn about manners. I had a pretty little room, the furniture was painted a very pale green and the walls were peach. I had a long walk-in closet all of my own. It was nearly empty when I came, but my new mom was a dressmaker and soon I had a number of pretty dresses to hang in it. My new mother took a great deal of pride in me. She thought I had such pretty shiny black hair. Every week she helped me shampoo and set my hair. She made most of the clothing that I wore, even bras and panties, coats and pajamas. She taught me that as a Christian it was wrong to lie, to cheat, to steal change laying around the house, to swear or use slang. She also taught me how to make doll clothes for the doll she bought me, how to bake a cake from 'scratch", and how to clean and scrub the bathroom so that every corner was clean. She taught me to love to decorate for Christmas and for parties, how to enjoy lutefisk and other goodies, how to give of my time to others. She was always sewing for missionary work, little dresses and baby layettes. Everything she made was artistically trimmed. Many times I would have lonely spells for my brothers, so she encouraged me to write to them and pray for them. She would love me and tell me she cared for me. I remember a nightmare I would have frequently. I would see my mother standing at the foot of the bed smiling at me. It would scare me and I would cry out. In a moment Mom was in the room snuggling in bed with me until I fell asleep. In my nightmare my real mother looked just like she did in the coffin with long dark hair and a white dress. I felt it was a ghost, but Mom assured me it was a dream. I could always bring friends home after school or after church. If I brought someone home whom she thought would be a bad influence, I was not to have her as a close friend. She taught me not to have just one friend, but many friends. God did bless my life with many, many friends. When I came to my new home, I had had a great deal of trouble in school. I hated arithmetic and it was the one subject that held me back. At first the school wanted to hold me back a grade, but then decided to try me our. My dad sat with me every night until I had learned the tables of arithmetic (i.e. 1+1 +2, etc.) It was his patient concern that changed my grades in arithmetic and the next year the school suggested I move an extra grade ahead. That would mean I would skip the seventh grade and my folk' felt that was to important a grade to skip. While in the seventh grade I was appointed Police Girl, which was an honor. I policed the halls at noon hour and before and after school. Only children who were obedient were allowed this privilege. Each year we had a huge school police picnic. We all wore white sailor pants, blouses and sailor hats plus our police belts and stars. We marched several locks downtown and then went to Excelsior Park for free rides and picnic dinner. My mother was going to have my trousers look real nice so she put a crease down the front. I was the only one with a crease! I felt a little strange about it but forgot about it and had lots of fun. I took piano lessons for a while but never did too well. I was also given some voice lessons. I was not as interested in music as I should have been. My greatest love was Art. I was drawing all of the time. Even my Grandpa and Grandma Johnson (my adopted mother's parents) encouraged me by giving me money for my drawings which were used to decorate the outhouse at our lake cottage. We called it the 'Art Gallery"! My early teenage years were years of learning. In 1930 I gave my heart to Christ. It was such a wonderful experience to know he loved me so much! A few months after I came to Peterson's my mom had serious surgery a hysterectomy and the found a malignant tumor. I stayed with Mother's cousin's family just up the street while she was in the hospital. As I look back, I can see how the Lord intervened in my life. I could have lost this home too if my mother had not gotten well again. She regained her health and we became a happy 'threesome" again. It was around this time that I became a Christian. Now my parents had the Lord on their side too in giving wisdom to them and spiritual strength to me. There was so much that must be changed! Swearing, being disobedient, lying, stealing. . .learning to obey them in loves and learning to keep myself clean and my room orderly. They were so patient with me! I am so thankful today for that training. They wanted me to grow up to be a genuine Christian woman who would have something to give to life as well as receive. As the teenage years progressed I had a deeper desire to serve the Lord. My folks were good examples for me. Their love and encouragement was always there. Mom used her talents to sew garments and layettes for our missions overseas and was very interested in the Jewish people – God's chosen. She had a Jewish insurance agent whom she saw every two weeks. At one time she gave him a beautiful Bible, as he had none. One message she gave him was the hope of the coming of Jesus again and that he was the same Messiah the Jewish people were looking for. She read Isaiah 53 to him a number times. One day he told her, 'Mrs. Peterson, if I find you and your Christian friends are missing, I will believe what you have said is true." The later years of her life were spent serving the Lord at the Midwest Hebrew Mission in St Paul. When I was a senior in High School, I had an art teacher who encouraged me to go on to college or art school and make it my career in some way. She knew of a temporary job I could have drawing for boys and girls in care center. But a missionary from northern Minnesota wanted me to teach Bible School that summer. I chose to teach Bible School and did this for three summers after graduation. I believe it was definitely God leading in my life as I had dedicated myself to full-time Christian service. After graduation I went for two years to Northwestern Bible School in Minneapolis and two years to Bethel College in St Paul. While at Northwestern I met Ralwin. He was working at the St James Hotel at the mission leading services for the 'down-and-outers" every night. One night a young man at Northwestern asked me if I would go with him to the mission as he wanted to play his horn and sing, so I went with him. This blonde, curly-headed preacher named Rawlin let the service. I really liked him. After the service we were introduced and something flashed between us that made us really like each other. We didn't see each other until the summer of 1938 when we both went up to Northern Minnesota to teach Bible School. We became very good friends but we didn't start to date until 1940, my second year at Bethel College. We fell madly in love and were convinced it was God's will that we marry after Rawlin was out of the Seminary. He graduated June 5, 1942 and we were married the next night. I have never felt I was out of God's will in my marriage to Rawlin. We had a good marriage and God blessed us with six children. Each one was a special blessing and we learned many valuable lessons in rearing them. Our children all loved to sing, especially Maren, David and Carolyn. When they were little we sang with them little choruses and songs. They were all able to carry an accurate tune. Sometimes they sang at our services. One chorus they loved was 'My boat is so little". Their dad taught them the Swedish version as well. Our family sand when they were little and also later as well. They were all in music or vocal music and Nancy was in the High School band and played the French horn. They all sang in the church choir and solos and duets with each other or other young people from church and at home. Maren played the piano and we all sang together. I miss all they all contributed much to the services in the church during the years they were at home. Five our children graduated from Estherville High School and one from Glenwood, MN. Two from college and a month later our oldest daughter was married. My husband and I were happy in the ministry. My husband was a loving husband and father as well as a loving, caring pastor. |
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