I’m not a historian. I claim to be a humorist instead, though I’m sure I’m not as witty as I think I am. I am also an LCMS pastor (now retired) with a sense of humor that did not disappear with ordination, nor should it have.
Some years ago, I began writing a column for this newsletter, entitled, “It Must Be the Noodles,” but eventually discontinued it. It was, however, the trigger for my book, It Must Be the Noodles.
Picking up where I left off, I continue with another: No, it is not just the noodles, it is much more than noodles, though I don’t know too many things I like better than Wendish noodles.
When my column first ran, my Cousin, Chuck Dube, had challenged me, himself, and all other Wends with the question why we were so preoccupied with our Wendish heritage! Other ethnicities don’t have quite the passion for their heritage as we do.
So perhaps in the course of this column speaking we can talk about the “why,” both in a humorous way and in a serious way.
For me, being Wendish could never be disconnected with my faith, being Wendish for me meant having a simple sincere faith in Jesus Christ. It meant having very humble, hard-working parents who had very firm Christian rules we lived by.
Today, I thought I’d begin with my Wendish mother’s favorite “sermon” to my brother and me whenever things were not going well financially. She would begin with, “A penny saved is a penny earned,” and end with, “Make do with what you have, or do without.” That statement was never as harsh as it may sound, because I know I owe my good sense of creativity to this rule.
For example. My brother and I wanted kites. Money was tight. So we made kites out of thin tree branches and old newspapers, paper bags and other kinds of paper with aerodynamic possibilities. We worked at it until we created kites that actually flew. We had plenty of string because my parents saved every piece of string that came their way.
I don’t mean to suggest by their example that being Wendish meant being poor. In my childhood days, whether you were rich or poor, or somewhere in between, you were frugal. Perhaps it was the Great Depression that taught us frugality, as well as Wendish common sense.
Based on just this one example, and there are many more to come in future columns, I feel part of my my pride in being Wendish is in having forebears who could “make do” and “make it” even when drought destroyed crops and illness hampered progress. Yes, we could “make do” and “make it.”
My father was German rather than Wendish, but he was never on the outside looking in, as that would not be a good kind of Wendish pride. Ironically, one of my great grandmothers who was always thought to be Wendish, turned out, after family researched her, to be German. No doubt that,’s why her children couldn’t speak Wendish. She was a much loved Wend who was not a Wend.
If you like our traditions, and can accept our faults, you are Wendish!