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Imprints of the Heart


I was mesmerized by the quick movements of Mother’s hands, pinching and turning the pie pan. She shaped the dough in curved rick-rack shape much as the potter shapes clay.

I remember how she used her hands to play the piano and the organ, and taught other hands to coax music from the instruments, until she was struck down by her final illness. She used her hands to leave imprints of the heart on those she taught and those for whom she played.

Mother used her hands to create culinary pleasures such as homemade bread, aya pei, cinnamon rolls, ham loaf and homemade ice cream. She raised flowers, not just for her pleasure but to ‘have some flowers to take to the elderly and the ill’. Again and again her hands were used to make an imprint of the heart.

Mother taught herself how to type in the latter 1940’s, acquiring a typewriter, to write. Mother began writing a weekly newsletter containing a summary of the sermon, and extended to poetry, lyrics, music, stories and articles. She developed her ability by taking correspondence classes in writing from OSU, and entered countless contests. Why? Because she wanted to share her faith in words that has left imprints of her heart for the Lord.

Where did this singleness of purpose stem from? When I was about 9 years old, we had news of a visit from four people dear to Mother’s heart – her Grandparents – Jacob and Justina Leppke Loewen, and her parents – Gerhard and Anna Loewen Suderman.

We prepared for days for their welcome visit. The brown house on 14th street in Clinton must be spotless. Food was prepared – Vereneka, pluma mose, fried chicken, salad from our garden and aya pei. We three children helped our Mom ready the house. We were curious about these quiet people, but soon the work was completed. And the day of their arrival came. We were on our best behavior. We didn’t know what to say to Great-Grandpa Loewen, a giant of a man with a luxurious beard or to Great-Grandma, whose heart was a big as her girth. We children watched and listened, able to glean some meaning from the Plautt Dietch language that filled our house during those days of the visit.

Soon they were gone, but they left a heart imprint that has not disappeared. As days passed by, we became great-grandparents, I realize now the effort and love that it took our grandparents and great-grandparents to travel from Kansas in 1930’s. Great-Grandpa Loewen was a retired farmer and part-time doctor. Great-Grandma Loewen left a heart-imprint when she reached out for a hug. Now I know that my Grandma Anna Loewen Suderman was their oldest child of fifteen. Now I know that Great-Grandma endured the pain of a still-born son, just as I did. I know about their faith in Jesus Christ and their quiet love through their child, my Grandma Anna.

Grandma Anna Suderman left imprints of love and faith in her children by her example of generosity, laughter, hospitality and endless prayers for her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. I see those character traits in my aunts and uncles and traveling down to my cousins. Imprints of the heart that are shaped through the heart of Jesus who gave his life.

John 3:16 – “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”

Remembering these things, I wonder, Is the imprint of my heart shaped like the heart of Jesus? Will my children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren be faithful and steadfast in Jesus in this life? The most important heritage is the spiritual legacy of God’s love.

Psalm 16:6 – The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance. (Used by Mother in her book, “The Lines Have Fallen”.)

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