Vol.2..Norwegian Farmer’s Son..January 21st

January 21st…..“SHARE ABOUT YOUR PARENT’S EARLY YEARS OF MARRIAGE AS HIRED HANDS ON THE FARM OF WALLY AND GENEVIEVE MUTSCHLER NEAR KIESTER, MINNESOTA.”

 

A golden sheen, from the tungsten lights within, sparkled across the predawn snow banks near the barn. The electric emanations came from the barn window glow of the “Green Gables Farm” that lay to the northwest of Kiester, Minnesota.

The farm’s ‘hired hand’ was a handsome young man by the name of Russell Noorlun. He and his lovely wife, Clarice, were expecting their firstborn child soon. As Russ faithfully and quickly moved from chore to chore in the barn that morning, daylight was still hiding beneath the cusp of the eastern horizon of sleeping farmlands. It was as if ‘Old Man Winter’ made it too cold for that old sunshine to want to make a showing in the brisk chill of another winter’s day.

Russ and Clarice had recently been made part of the Walter & Genevieve Mutschler ‘family’ by accepting employment as hired hands on the lovely site of this majestic farming operation. Part of the Noorlun’s monthly wage compensation was being granted the added blessing to live on-site in a little cottage cuddled into the treed windbreak that surrounded the Mutschler farm.

“Green Gables Farm” received its elegant title from the fact that the big barn, support structures and the family home were painted with a brilliant white coat of paint coupled with the harmonious and striking contrast color of the upper gables being an emerald green. The regal beauty of these farm buildings reflected the grand quality of the dear family that called that farm place their home.

As events of our young parent’s lives unfolded, God was about to show His loving provision to our father and mother. In their early days of being newlyweds (in June of 1941), Russell and Clarice had been employed as ‘hired hands’ (farm workers) for two, old bachelor brothers in northern Iowa. That term of employment had proved to be the opposite of enjoyable, sad to say. It seemed the two, crotchety old farmer brothers were always arguing amongst themselves and/or were seldom satisfied with the hard work our father was striving to achieve for them. Out of frustration, and in hopes of finding a better work situation, Russ had driven north across the borderline into Minnesota and arrived in the nice village of Kiester. While in town that day, Dad ‘ran into’ Walter (Wally) Mutschler and found out that a job opening was available on their farm northwest of that farming community. In a spiritual retrospect, we now know that God had that meeting all planned out in His omniscience and His best blessing was just waiting for our parents. Our farmer father accepted Wally’s offer of employment and, like they say, the rest was history for our entire family in the years to come.

Not only were Wally and Genevieve Mutschler excellent employers, they, and our parents, grew to love each other to the glorious point of becoming like a second set of ‘parents’ to our folks and like another ‘grandpa and grandma’ to all of us grateful Noorlun children over the many decades since the meeting that day of our father and Wally on the streets of our beloved hometown of Kiester, Minnesota.

The reason, as stated earlier, that Russ was hustling with morning chores, was so that he could quickly make the walk along the farm’s snowy paths to the little white cottage that he and Clarice called home there at “Green Gables Farm”. One of our dad’s favorite radio shows was ‘on the air’ each morning around breakfast time and Russ didn’t want to miss an episode of the program called, “Snow Village Sketches” which entailed the ongoing adventures of a couple old codgers in this comedy/drama based in the State of New Hampshire.

As Russell’s young pregnant bride prepared his large farmer’s breakfast, he tuned in their Atwater Kent radio to be entertained there in their tiny kitchen while winter’s claws of wind and cold scoured the outsides of their little white bungalow.

Russ and Clarice had grown up through the late 1920’s and into the 1930’s. Those were the very lean years of “The Great Depression”. And, even now, in the early years of World War II, our parents had to daily employ some sage wisdom of the times that went like this, “Use it up, Wear it out, Make it do, Or do without”. In these days of their young married life together, Russ and Clarice had to “make do” with the only furniture they could afford at the time……….wooden orange crates. Set vertical on their ends, two orange crates were their ‘kitchen chairs’ and one orange crate was their ‘kitchen table’.

That ol’ mean-spirited Minnesota winter, outside of their cottage walls, did its best to steal any heat from within their tiny kitchen. To fight back those chills, Clarice kept their little wood stove roaring with a good fire in its metal belly. As Russ relished his radio show with lots of Norwegian laughter, he also gladly consumed Clarice’s eggs, bacon, cereal, coffee and morning grapefruit. Oh, and don’t leave out his preferred ‘scorched black’ toast with melted sweet creamery butter lathered on for good measure and taste.

As winter day followed winter day, Russell and Clarice tried to stay warm the best they could. When sitting near that little kitchen stove, they would roast from the generated wood heat on one side of their bodies, but be freezing on the back side. So, like human ‘flapjacks’, they’d flip themselves around so their backs and bottoms could warm up, as well.

That small wood stove in their home couldn’t hold a candle to the intense warmth that governed the heart of our sweet mother, Clarice. Even though she, herself, was ‘heavy with child’ (our brother, Lowell), Clarice and our loving father, Russell, were quite the team when it came to caring and sharing of what they had with others. In the early fall of 1942, our paternal uncle was a sergeant in Uncle Sam’s Army during World War II. Our poor uncle was also shouldered with the burden of being a single parent in need of care for his baby daughter so that he could return to active duty in Europe. Our parents agreed to step up and be a blessing to that baby girl. Family members from the Fosston, Minnesota area delivered a little pink bundle to that Mutschler farm cottage and, thanks to Russ and Clarice, our uncle’s baby girl was temporarily loved and cared for till another relative could take over. A photo from our family collection shows our dear mother holding her tiny niece while wearing a winter coat that conceals her own pregnant tummy waiting for our brother to be born later in February of 1943.

Being ‘instant parents’, with the arrival of this tiny little lady, Russ and Clarice made every effort to ensure that this little soul was taken care of to the best of their abilities. When it came to going nitey-nite, our mother became resourceful when she needed to create a ‘crib’ for the baby. Opening one of the drawers of the dresser in their bedroom, Clarice put a pillow and blankets inside that open drawer and laid the baby girl in her new-found, makeshift ‘crib’. 😉

Like the ubiquitous ‘pebble in a pond effect’, the ripples of love shown to our parents by Wally and Genevieve Mutschler enabled Russ and Clarice to then live out the tenets of our Christian faith in being a sanctuary for their baby niece in need of a temporary home. Their attributes were mirrored as shown from the Bible in Matthew 18:5, which says, “And whoever welcomes a little child like this, in My name, welcomes Me.” Their godly example is still a standard of life for this Norwegian Farmer’s Son. ><>