KIT Newsletter April 1995 Volume VII #4

The KIT Newsletter, an Activity of the KIT Information Service, a Project of The Peregrine Foundation

P.O. Box 460141 / San Francisco, CA 94146-0141 /

telephone: (415) 821-2090 / (415) 282-2369

KIT Staff U.S.: Ramon Sender, Charles Lamar, Christina Bernard, Vince Lagano, Dave Ostrom;

U.K. : Susan Johnson Suleski, Ben Cavanna, Leonard Pavitt, Joanie Pavitt Taylor, Brother Witless (in an advisory capacity)

The KIT Newsletter is an open forum for fact and opinion. It encourages the expression of all views, both from within and from outside the Bruderhof. The opinions expressed in the letters we publish are those of the correspondents and do not necessarily reflects those of KIT editors or staff.

April 1995 Volume VII #4

-------------- "Keep In Touch" --------------

The pressure of news has made this a DOUBLE issue. Please keep in mind our climbing costs with higher U.S. postage, and put a donation in the mail to us if you have not done so for a while. We would remind everyone that our foreign mailing costs are even higher. The XRoads Fund also could use some help. Thank you.

----- The Whole Kit And Caboodle -----

HAPPY 60th Birthday to Bette Bohlken-Zumpe! Also a big welcome to her new granddaughter!

Nadine Moonje Pleil, 3/6/95: August and I are the very proud grandparents of a new grandson! Kerry and Andrea have a son, 10 lbs and 21-1/2 inches long, with lots of brown hair. His name is Paul Joseph. He came by way of Caesarean, but everything went well. We now have 10 grandchildren. We are very grateful for the safe arrival of this new little person!

KIT: We were very sorry to hear that both Bronwen Bazeley and Richard Whitty are seriously ill. Our very best wishes to them both and to their families. Also Kathleen Joyce Hazelton is fighting emphysema. We extend our best wishes to her, Donald and their family.

"State Hutterites Split from Eastern Colonies for Differing Reasons," by Carson Walker © by "The Argus Leader," Sioux Falls, South Dakota

South Dakota Hutterites have split from their brother colonies in New England, and each side has different reasons for the schism. The minister of the South Dakota colonies, the Rev. Michael Waldner of Mitchell, said the separation started last year.

"There was something between us. Nothing drastic that can't be solved down the road sometime, we hope," Waldner said. "Like any other church, they get things between them."

Hutterites, who have German ancestry, live a structured life- style and are guided by a deep Christian faith. Most live in communal colonies of about 100 members. About 5,000 live in South Dakota. Waldner said the Western Hutterites, which include South Dakota, other states and Canadian provinces, stopped communicating with the Eastern colonies because of a colony in Nigeria, Africa, called Palmgrove. The dispute arose when the Palmgrove Hutterites took control of the assets that the Americans helped them establish, said Martin Johnson with the Hutterian Brethren Service Committee in Farmington, Pa.

Hutterites from the Dakotas and other parts of the West still support the Nigerians, but the Easterners believe the actions amount to a breach of relationship and it is not right to continue supporting them, Johnson said. Waldner said the Eastern Hutterites made accusations against the Westerners without asking them about it.

"The East just took the word from one person as truth. The Hutterite way of life through the centuries was to ask first before you accuse a person. They have not asked the second party if it's so," he said.

Johnson said the Eastern Hutterites have tried to settle differences with the Westerners, but it has been to no avail.

"From our point of view, we tried to settle these things, and now they do not accept our feelings on these things."

The West also shuns the East because of a book, said the head of the Eastern Hutterites, the Rev. Johann Christoph Arnold of Rifton, NY.

"We have published a book called "Discipleship," which the elders of Western Hutterites forbid them to read because it's a challenge to us as Christians," he said. "They see it as a threat because it means for them they have to change... They are furious that we published this book and are telling outside people not to buy it."

Waldner said the book is not banned. "We never opposed the book," he said. "I've got the book and have read it. There's nothing in there we didn't know. It's a nice book, and I don't know of anybody who's been forbidden to read it. Where he got that I don't know."

KIT: The schismatic faction of ex-Schmiedleut colonies known as the "Oilers" are being asked to stop identifying themselves as Schmiedleut and Hutterian Brethren. Quoting from a letter signed by Rev. Mike Hofer and Leonard Kleinsasser, Schmiedleut Conference, to Mike Wollmann, Sam Kleinsasser, Jacob Waldner, Jacob Hofer and Sam Hofer: "Again, we hope that you will act in an honourable way and discontinue use of the name "The Hutterian Brethren Church" and "the Schmiedleut Conference," as to do so is misleading." Another letter from Wolschock & Company, Barristers and Attorneys-at-Law, addressed to Bill Murray and Michael Radcliffe of the law firm, Baker, Radcliffe and Co., also made the same request.

KIT: The Bruderhof has filed two lawsuits in Nigeria attempting, first and foremost, to freeze the assets of the Palmgrove community. The Petitioner named is "Hutterian Brethren in New York, Inc. (for and on behalf of Hutterian Brethren Communities in the United States, Great Britain, Germany and Canada"). They accuse the Nigerian leadership of various infractions of their relationship, and request the court to:

a) Declare null and void any sale or transaction... respecting the assets (of Palmgrove).

b) Declare that all assets now in the name of the Nigerian trustees and member be held in trust for Palmgrove.

c) Declare that all trust properties be returned to Palmgrove.

d) Declare that any Palmgrove assets "that have been disposed of without the requisite approval" be returned.

e) Restrain Palmgrove's trustees, via a "perpetual injunction," from dealing with the assets... in such a manner that jeopardizes Palmgrove's title to same.

f) Direct Palmgrove to amend its Constitution to conform to the Bruderhof's Articles of Faith and appoint Bruderhof representatives as additional trustees...

As an alternative to the above, they request "an order winding up the Respondent in accordance with the Companies and Allied Matters Act." [We assume this would mean closing down the Palmgrove Corporation and disposing of its assets - ed].

Meanwhile the Hutterian Church of Canada has responded with two letters. One states that they oppose the lawsuit and have not authorized it, and that "the Americans left Palmgrove voluntarily against the wishes of the Palmgrove people and against the wishes of the Elders of the Canadian Hutterites, leaving everything in the hands of the Palmgrove people and Canadians, and we will therefore continue to help Palmgrove."

The second letter points out that "the Americans calling themselves Hutterian Brethren of New York Inc. have no right to request authorization to participate, control or administrate Palmgrove on a daily basis. Since Palmgrove was a joint venture and was built up by contributing colonies from Manitoba, Canada, USA, charities, churches and other organizations, the Americans have no more right to ask or demand a wind-up than anybody else...

"The Americans left Palmgrove voluntarily. After the pull-out, they contributed nothing to the upkeep of Palmgrove... There is no reason why they should claim or demand ownership now. From the beginning, Palmgrove was a mission field and joint venture for the benefit of the African people, and no foreign contributor should reclaim ownership or control of any of the property now."

KIT: The Bruderhof claims expenses "approximating U.S. $2,354,487" and alleges that the Nigerian leaders misrepresented the possibility of electing foreign directors to a Nigerian charitable organization and filed a constitution that "only makes scant reference to the Articles of Faith" of the Hutterian Church. Since Palmgrove did not yet exist as a legal entity when the property and various assets were purchased, they were transferred to Rev. Innocent Idiong to "hold in trust," with the understanding that once Palmgrove had been registered, Rev. Idiong would transfer the assets. These included five deeds of conveyance (presumably for real property) in Rev. Innocent Idiong's name. Once Palmgrove was registered, three additional foreign directors were appointed, including Jake Kleinsasser and Johann Christoph Arnold.

However with the ongoing Canadian Hutterite support for Palmgrove, the possibility of the Bruderhof reacquiring control or 'cashing out' (winding up) their investment seems very unlikely. Inasmuch as Jake Kleinsasser was elected Palmgrove's "chief of chiefs," it seems probable that his view will prevail. The sight of an established U.S. church bringing a lawsuit against the very people they set themselves up to assist, including a well-publicized fund- raising campaign, is unusual. Palmgrove's neighboring churches are outraged, as is evidenced by the following letter.

Bishop-in-Charge, C.A.C. Church of Nigeria, plus five pastors, to Christoph Arnold, undated: Dear Christoph Vetter and All Servants of the Word from the East:

We, the concerned Christians from other denominations, have heard the sad stories involving your group in Nigeria. Regardless of whatever may have been your reasons for disagreement with the Palmgrove people, you shouldn't have gone to a law court to seek for your right. It's only God that gives 'right,' not law courts.

We challenge you as fellow Christians to really state where your strength to do this comes from. Where is your first love? Where are your promises? Where is your humility and ability to give out of love, and unconditionally? It seems you are now counting costs without regrets. Where is your true mission (Mat 28: 18-20)? Where does your obedience to this commission lie? Is it in your action(s)? You've made a negative impact as far as the Gospel of Christ, which means love and life, is concerned.

What is the difference between your unbiblical lawsuit and the tax collector whom Christ warned true believers to be careful with, else he gives them to the world judges. Judging from your actions, you have nailed Christ again and again to the cross for representing Him with constant and fleshly demands, seeking utopian uniformity only to achieve half-truth by means of coercion, instead of using persuasive love to come to peace and dedication.

As it now appears, you have sadly made "Hutterites faith" a laughing stock, not only to ignorant Africans but also to the well- informed Western world. How can you now defend the "no lawsuit" belief of the Hutterites and then turn around and defy it? You are just like a dog who vomits and eats same again. How can you uphold your Peter Riedemann's "Confession of Faith" (page 112) as well as the teachings of our beloved Jesus Christ, especially when He commanded us to love our enemies.

If Palmgrove is now your enemy, why not love them? Enemies don't listen to threats, lawsuits or unloving actions, but they will return same, even worse. The only language they will listen to is "love." Do you use love? For how long? If you don't love well enough, then "shame on you all!"

How do you feel blowing your top against the poor people of Africa? You should please repent of this. What do you think you are missing in terms of property in Palmgrove? You will be told some day that billions of U.S. dollars, given out of love to Africa through the building of schools, hospitals, farms -- name it, by the various missionary societies, never came without struggles in various capacities. But none of these societies/churches had ever taken the poor people to disgrace them in the worldly court.

You have given yourself another name in Africa: "hypocrites, thieves, and liar." Shame on you again! How do you feel now when you look back to the very beginning of Palmgrove? You first taught the people about love and how to love. You never wait patiently enough to allow it to grow. You hastily uprooted love and planted bitterness. What a hasty turn-around? Christ would have a question for you as far as love talked about in I Corinthians 13: 3-5, is concerned.

You have stirred the poor souls to anger, which is not good either. But what can the poor people do? They have to resist all your attempts to break and tear them down. It's their identity they will struggle to keep. You will finally go in great shame and gain nothing at all. You have to repent first. It takes two to struggle. Remember, you must lead them to repentance by being the first to repent.

Your weapon of destruction (lawsuit) against Palmgrove shall never prosper. Palmgrove shall grow taller above obstacles and the good Lord shall be a shield unto them. Only love shall break the barrier for you to reach them. Why not use it?

Finally, brethren, how quick and best a way are you going to redeem your name already dragged by your greed, shaky faith and self-righteousness into these muddy waters? Please back up before your doom. Do something because your actions have betrayed and exposed your group as ocultic [sic] in practice and quite different from the known loving, sharing and humble Christian group from New York we first heard of. Where is your first love? We ask you again. Your fruits now have maggots in them. As King David puts it in Psalms 51: 3, "Your sins are ever before you."

Please, brethren, examine yourselves, ask again, test your conscience and judge your deeds now in accordance with the scripture. Repent today, for tomorrow may be too late. Yours faithfully, Fellow Christians, [six signatures]

ITEM: "The New York Times" of 3/2/95, Metropolitan Section, ran an article on the Woodcrest Bruderhof, titled 'Thou Shalt Not Traffic in Demon Gossip.' It focused primarily on the non-gossip rule, with photos of various grim-faced and dour adults obviously trying very hard to keep their lips buttoned. Some quotes:

"But it is the fight against unneighborly jealousies and social hypocrisies, the childlike urge to tattle and connive, that members smilingly admit to as the true daily cross.

"'That's the problem wherever there's human flesh,' Christoph Arnold, the lean, bearded elder insisted, smiling gently at his group's near-satirical contrast with so much of surrounding America.

"Hardly withdrawn, they like outsiders to visit... The dedication to family is obvious among the 350 residents here, but they spare visitors lectures on family values. Far from proselytizing, they go to protest marches against war, the death penalty, urban violence and racial injustice, but carefully distance themselves from the self- righteousness that they find in the political agenda of some other modern Christian fundamentalists.

"'That's where we part company with the religious right,' Mr. Wiser said. 'We are concerned when somebody takes us into politics and tries to push other people around. That's coercion, force.'

Ruben Ayala, who was "impressed by brethren at the Bowery Mission in Manhattan where he worked as a recovering drug addict and ex-convict," was quoted as saying, "'There's no grudges here.'"

Judith Sender, 3/7/95, to 'The New York Times:' Dear Editor: Francis X. Clines' "Thou Shalt Not Traffic in Demon Gossip" (Thursday, March 2, Metro Section) put an interesting spin on the "Rifton Hutterites," a group whose values are totally the opposite of the talk show, let-it-all-hang-out slice-of-life that permeates the TV 24 hours a day.

Unfortunately, in citing this group, Mr. Clines selected an oxymoronic example of a non-gossipy society. On the surface, this group seems a benign, Amish-like community grafted on one branch of the Anabaptist movement of the Reformation. Unfortunately I must inform your readers that over one thousand ex-members, members' children, survivors and graduates live outside the community in varying degrees of ostracism because they did not conform.

The "Rifton Hutterites" live in a closed community where gossip is not only considered a sin, but also is banned because it keeps the leadership safe from criticism from the rank-and-file. Too much gossip is unfortunately the by-product of a fortunately open, free- speech society.

When Clines' article alludes to the anti-homosexuality, anti- choice stance of a group that also is pacifist and anti-capital punishment, he was beginning to pierce the Rifton group's PR bubble. Sadly, I know at first hand the dark side of the "Bruderhof," as the Rifton Hutterites are more commonly known. Neither my husband nor I are allowed to visit our grandchildren in the Rifton community, and we are not the only ones suffering this ostracism. We have tried appealing to the group through the local County Mediation Center, we have tried conflict resolution training. We hold yearly conferences to work through the traumas of those Bruderhof survivors and graduates who want to dialogue and not just passively allow themselves to be cut off from their loved ones.

Personally, although I don't like "gossip" because it can be vicious, at least it emanates from an open, democratic, free-speech society. I want you to know that writing this letter breaks my heart. As a progressive woman who has spent much of her life working with the underprivileged and disenfranchised in the capacity of teacher and social worker, somehow my peacemaking, negotiating skills are useless tools in confronting the hegemony of the Bruderhof. I eagerly await the day when the Bruderhof will open their doors to us and to conflict resolution. Sincerely,

ITEM: Cadmon Whitty from Albuquerque has requested to be removed from the mailing list and to have that request published. We suspect that he has done so in order to retain his visiting privileges with his family on the Bruderhof.

Maeve Whitty 3/7/96: If my name exists on any of your address or mailing lists, please remove it. Please print this request in your next publication.

KIT: The following excerpts and quotes, translated from the German press by Elizabeth Bohlken-Zumpe (thank you, Bette!), address the closing of the Michaels-hof in Birnbach, Germany.

Joerg Barth, Michaelshof, to Bruderhof friends, 1/26/95: "...During the past weeks it became clear to us that our Bruderhoefe will have to move closer together. We need each other's help and support. Therefore we want to give up our community the Michael- shof in Birnbach and wish to move to our brothers and sisters in England. You might find this difficult to understand now that we actually have managed to receive permission to build our community house. If we want to survive, though, we are forced to take this step..."

"Rheinische Zeitung," 1/21/95: HUTTERITES LEAVE MICHAELSHOF: NEWS STRUCK LIKE A BOMB. The article basically states that the decision was made at a joint Bruderhof conference in England and America, and that it was unfortunate that it came just as the Bruderhof had been given permission to build a community house, a children's house and a workshop, at an estimated 7 million D.M. in improvements (about $5 million U.S.).

"Rheinische Zeitung,"1/25/95: INTERVIEW WITH JOERG BARTH:

Joerg: "Our communities need to move closer together in order to build a strong nucleus so that we will have the strength to meet our tasks in America, England, Germany, Hungary, Korea, Japan, Nigeria and Russia... No, we have no economical reasons for this... we never were able to start a real Bruderhof here. At the moment we have some 100 people here, and we should at least have 175 members here...

Since 1988 we have done our utmost to build a real community. We had to struggle with great opposition to all our plans, and I would like to mention the "Citizens Union" here. This union has been active since 1990 and has done everything in their power to frustrate our building plans. Although now we realize that they did not succeed in their plans to hinder us, it did cause a long delay. For four years we have taken all our meals in a big tent on the lawn and have held all our festivities and prayer meetings in this tent. We have no teachers for our children because we are unable to offer them accommodation...

In our search for a place where we can truly concentrate all our abilities and strength, Hastings seemed a much better choice. If you recall, we really should have had a building permit as promised us by the local authorities to go ahead with our plans. In the meeting of Dec. 15th 1994, the chairman of the Citizens Union announced that he would take legal steps to prevent any and every building plan, after which we had to have reason to count on a further delay.

RZ: What advantages do you expect in England?

Joerg: We are planning to build another community there and are sure that we can work together closely with the community there. There we have enough space both practical and spiritual for the work of building our life. We can offer space to some of the 300 members in our community there and are convinced that we will not find a "Citizen Union" to obstruct our plans. We never have we met anything like this before in our life together.

RZ: Do you see a difference between the local citizens and the Citizens Union?

Joerg: Very much so! With most of the citizens of Birnbach we have a warm contact. We not only feel accepted by the neighbors, but even welcome. The local management and the Mayor have always supported all our plans. No, we never felt that our plans were not handled correctly.

RZ: Is your leaving Germany definite, then?

Joerg: By no means! We feel that we have a big task here and we will fulfill this. We have experienced much goodness and look forward to welcome our Birnbach friends in England.

2/6/95: Article by Barbara A. Cepielik: "Religious Community Can No longer Live In Peace in Their Own Village in The Westerwald -- Local Villagers 'Citizens Union' Wants To Chase Away This Strange Group. Protest Marches And Demonstrations Will Follow In An Attempt To Ask These Christian People To Stay."

To sum up: No one would have thought that 800 to 900 people would have taken the initiative to demonstrate of the Hutterian Brothers in an attempt to ask them to stay in the Westerwald. With the Mayor walking ahead of the group, they marched up to the Michaels Bruderhof.

Two weeks ago Joerg Barth, the leader of the group, told the press that they could not remain in Germany any longer but would move to England. He said that they had had enough of the intimidation through the years from the people of Birnbach. "We the community in Michaelshof have had enough of your intimidation and your enmity. We cannot bear it any longer! Six years we have done our utmost to get a building permit for our community's children and workshop buildings -- all to no avail. For years we have held our prayer meetings in a tent where we also eat. We have invested millions here, but we are not getting any further. We do not want to go on any more! We are going to England where we can live in peace."

These surely are hard words for a peace-loving man whose religion forbids him to speak evil of his neighbors. But the only Hutterian Community in Germany is fed up -- they feel persecuted by the German people -- and this for the second time in this century. The first time was 1937 when the Gestapo chased them out of Germany away from their home in the Roehn-Bruderhof.

"Treacherous Words"

Almost 60 years since then, a 'Citizens Union' in Birnbach pursues the same goal, that is to get rid of this community of faith by every means possible. Their words betray their feelings: "We want to prevent our village from losing its identity and character to people from a different culture and a different life-style." Now demonstrators march through Birnbach with the protection of the police to try to get these people to stay. You can see people's heads peeking out from behind their curtains, but the enemies of the Hutterites don't dare to come outside. That's how it was from the beginning --Êthey never challenged the Hutterites directly nor did they answer phone calls during these last few days. No, they fought the Hutterites with a war of red tape and now they have now won the battle, so to speak.

Joerg Barth and the people from the Michaelshof are touched by the large number of people demonstrating for them to stay. Also they were much moved by the number of signatures from the villagers. On this wet and rainy day and Joerg thanks the people for their sympathy. "The first and best friend of the Hutterites"

Whether the community will listen to the the people is uncertain. The seven worldwide Bruderhoefe held a communal conference between Christmas and the New Year and decided to give up Birnbach. Is this the end of a long story??

"Rheinische Zeitung," Nr. 26 2/12/95

"GREAT REGRET" DECISION SHOULD BE RECONSIDERED --

County Council: In a letter, Senator Eda Jahns has conveyed her deep regret about the departure of the Hutterites from Birnbach. Her letter follows:

With deep sorrow I read in the newspaper that you want to close the Bruderhof house here in Germany and move to England. This decision has caught me by surprise, especially at this moment when everything seemed to go well with your building plans. Regrettably German law cannot prevent malcontents from using the statutes for their own purposes. But I still hope that the solidarity shown towards you by a great number of the villagers and neighbors will make you change your plans.

I hope that, in the light of all the sympathy shown you, you might reconsider your decision. Birnbach and the county of Altkirchen would miss you and would be the poorer without you!"

"Rhein. Zeitung," 2/14/95 THE HUTTERITES ARE LEAVING

The Birnbach Hutterites... have decided to leave Germany. Saturday some 800 sympathizers organized a march to the Bruderhof-haus and begged the Hutterites to stay. Their wish was supported by the local authorities. But housefather Joerg Barth said that the religious community sees "persecution of their witness of faith, peace and unity" in the constant harrassment of the Citizens Union. This Union has had as its objective in the past to hinder the expansion plans of the community. Last month, this situation reached a boiling point. The Birnbacher Bruderhofers will now join their communities in England and the States and will sell the Michaels-hof with its 24 hectars of land.

"Rhein. Zeitung," 2/14/95

SYMPATHY FOR THE HUTTERITES: PLEASE STAY!!

More than 800 people took part in a sympathy demonstration for the religious community of the Hutter-ites... Because of the harassments by the local Citizens Union who have done their utmost to prevent their plans for new buildings, the same people who were persecuted by the Nazis in 1937 and were forced to leave their homes in the Rhoen-Bruderhof have now definitely decided to leave Germany. The Governor Herbert B. Blank read a resolution from the official government to beg the Hutterites to stay. "Please stay with us as our fellow citizens!" Housefather Joerg Barth said, "We are listening and will take your words to our hearts!"

"Rhein. Zeitung," 2/14/95 STRUGGLING FOR THE RIGHT ANSWERS -- "WHERE WERE ALL THE FRIENDS?"

Readers' response for the Bruderhof and against the Citizens Union. It is said that the Mayor has done his very best to help the Nazi victims resettle in Germany, but found too much opposition from the people of Birnbach.

Joerg Barth:

"It means a lot to us that so many of you have come to stand with us in this difficult hour. We want to set our "sign" as an example in Germany, that the German people might awaken and fight against the falsehood of those with a negative attitude. It is a difficult hour, but also a happy one to see you all here with us. I have no answer to your request as yet, but what we have seen and experienced today is something we will take with us in our hearts and treasure!"...

Andreas Meier, one of the preachers of the Hutterites:

"Seven long years we have tried and done our very best to build our workshop and life here in Germany, but our workshop is still a small room in the attic and we have had to eat our meals in a tent. This is not really an organic community and we are unable to earn our living in a decent way! This is the reason for our leaving..."

"City Newspaper of Koeln," 2/24/95. "HUTTERITES SIT ONCE MORE ON THEIR PACKED SUITCASES"

Pressure of neighbors forces religious community to leave -- by K. Rudiger Durth

Altkirchen: Now the 100 Hutterites from the States and England that settled in Birnbach on land they had purchased to reestablish their life in Germany will have to leave once more. Soon enough these words will become the bitter truth: "Even the most faithful cannot live in peace if evil neighbors do not like him!" ...After their arrival at the Michaels Bruderhof, the neighbors initiated a union to oppose them. 70-year-old Gerhard Schwalm fought against "foreign domination" in the village. He protested against the increasing traffic on their village roads due to their business, and against more Hutterites coming to the Westerwald. With the help of attorneys, the Union prevented the Hutterites from building on their property. In doing so, they hit the economic nerve of the community that already had invested some 5 million D.M. But without permission to build a workshop, living accommodations and a community building, all their efforts were in vain. They had to eat their meals in a large tent and their economic future looked grim.

The dispute amongst the people of Birnbach for and against the Hutterites undermined everyone's lives. Even the elections were influenced.

The devout Protestants have given up -- just at the time when the Building Commission had agreed to make their dreams come true. Now the Hutterites have received a lot of sympathy and compassion, but it comes too late. Their suitcases are packed to move to Hastings, England. Even a demonstration of 1000 participants (500 from Birnbach) was in vain. The leader of the Rhein-ische church, Prasis Peter Beier, called all Germany to pray for the Hutterites, but this prayer now will be only a blessing on the journey of these disappointed men, women and children in their old-fashioned dress.

The Westerwald Hutterites are thankful, as Joerg Bath has said, "that in all those years of difficult negotiations it never came to a confrontation! But who can give us any guarantees that this will not happen in the future? Since 1988 we have waited in vain for any signs of solidarity, which you give us now, when it is too late."

The people in the Westerwald are ashamed -- ashamed that even a religiously faithful community who live by strict rules do not find it possible to live a practical Christian life of peace and unity together. "The Open Door" was not open. People were convinced that the Hutterites were nothing but a sect or cult that would not fit into our modern way of life. Now the Michaels-hof is for sale again. Ironically, it used to be the property of a rich Jewish industrialist who was executed by the Nazis.

Political Forum in the "Elsivier" monthly, 2/24/95) THE HUTTERITES LEAVE GERMANY AND STAND BEFORE A INNER DIVISION AMONGST THEMSELVES.

...It seems that even today, Germany is not a hospitable country. This is what happened: a Citizens Union in Birnbach decided to prevent the community from enlarging and expanding, building new houses. The leader of the community, Joerg Barth, said: "In no country have we been treated in this way. Never have we encountered so much resistance and opposition. That is why it was impossible for us to make a real bruderhof on the Michaelshof. True, the Mayor, the politicians of the country as well as the County Governor helped us get a variance in the "green belt" around Birnbach so that we would have been able to build a children's home, meetinghouse and workshop, and in the long run, the Citizens Union could not have stopped this..."

However a deeper reason for the Hutterites giving up of the Michaelshof in Germany and moving to Darvell in England is to be found in a controversy within their own movement. There is a split between the "New Hutterites" with 2500 members who now face exclusion by the "Old Hutterites" who number some 30,000 souls. In the future, the Bruderhof will not be allowed to call themselves Hutterites.

Within the "Old Hutterite Order," there are three groups, the Lehrerleut, Dariusleut and the Schmiede-leut. They live more or less excluded from the world in Canada and the United States. They farm the land, wear the old costumes and speak the old Austrian dialect of their forefathers. They are successful farmers and manual workers. The "New Hutterites" came out of the German Youth Movement and their leader was the theologian Dr. Eberhard Arnold. Arnold founded the Rhoen Bruderhof in the 1920s, and united with the Hutterites to become their fourth branch, "The Arnold-leut." But not until 1974 were they officially recognized by the other three groups. Now the Dariusleut and Lehrerleut no longer accept them as their brothers in the faith, and the Schmiedleut are divided on the question.

Johann Christoph Arnold, who is the leader and Elder of the Arnoldleut, speaks in strong terms when it comes to the old order Hutterites. He lives in Woodcrest (USA) and is a grandson of Eberhard Arnold. He has said, "They are lukewarm, superficial and indifferent. Material things mean more to them than the spiritual beliefs." He is very direct in accusation about their use of alcohol -- "even the leaders have fallen into this sin." Also sexual relations before marriage -- that they even have illegitimate children. In short, the "New Hutterites" reproach the "Old Hutterites" as traitors to the spirit of Jacob Hutter. The Old Hutterites therefore feel they have no option but to exclude their Arnoldleut brothers. Because they will now be excluded from the Hutterite faith, the "Arnold-leut" want to move together more closely and a Bruderhof house in Germany seems a luxury for them, at least in this situation. Some observers say that there is some basis for the "New Hutterite" vision.

On the other hand, many feel that the "New Hutterites" carry their fight against sin to an unnatural extreme. Their battle against alcohol is an inheritance from the Youth Movement, but their criticism of Old Hutterite sexual morals are exaggerated. It seems that the son of E.A., Heinrich Arnold, started a social control system that has nothing to do with free choice for Christians. It seems to lead to unbearable pressure amongst members.

Due to their rigorous attitude, a difficult situation has come about. Because the Hutterites put so much value on community and a secluded, closed life together, there is now a "schism" in which both sides forbid each other to be called "Hutterites." There is reason to believe that due to their relentless self-righteousness, a split in Hutterite ideology cannot be prevented. If this happens, the new Hutterite Bruderhof will have to engage in a dialogue with the "evil" world, as they will no longer be able to hide behind old Hutterite ideas.

(Wigbert Tocha)

"Die Stern", 2/25/95 OPPOSITION TO FOREIGN DOMINATION -- A SECOND EXPULSION

Six years ago, Hutterites settled in the Westerwald, but conflicts with their neighbors who were afraid of "foreign domination" caused this religious group to leave as they had to do under the Nazis!

"We have to be honest," the words of the white-bearded head of the Hutterite community in the Westerwald, "No one has burned our houses, no child has been insulted, and none of our brother or sisters have been attacked! But before something like that happens, we'd rather leave of our own free will!" After 6 years of hard work, the Hutterites are giving up their community in Germany, and this for the second time.

In 1927 the Nazis forced the Christian community to leave their homes in the Rhoen. At that time, Joerg Barth was only a little boy. This time a neighbor from among the 500 villagers of Birnbach forced the women in their long dresses and polka-dotted kerchiefs, the little girls with their braided pigtails and caps and the men with their beards and their old-fashioned suspenders to leave their homes.

"If we are not wanted here, then we would much rather go to England or America," decided the religious people. "This is closer to the Gospel than to force ourselves on the people here." Now the 24- hectar land parcel with houses and workshops is for sale again, and the people of Birnbach are ashamed because once again intolerance against strangers is the cause of a minority group leaving.

When the first families arrived in Birnbach 6 years ago, we reported about this "God-fearing People" in our magazine Die Stern and about their first wedding here in Germany. Even then, it was known that a group of neighbors felt very aggressive towards these people, and under the leadership of the 70-year-old Gerhard Schwalm, they founded a Citizens Union against a "center for a sect" and against the workshops and against the "foreign domination" and heavy traffic that would have to pass through the village to their workshops.

During those six years, Gerhard Schwalm filmed all the activities of these hated neighbors and documented all their activities. Every truck arriving from England to bring in the wood for their workshop was documented. The treehouse the children had made to play in was, in Schwalm's words, a watchtower to frighten the people of Birnbach. Three old oak trees were, in his words, a danger during a storm. But when the Hutterites actually cut them down, Schwalm reported them to the forester and called them "tree killers." The community has invited him several times for "open house" or an evening meal, but he never came to the Michaelshof. "During those six years, we have not been able to speak with him once," said Joerg Barth.

Elizabeth Bohlken-Zumpe to the Mayor of Birnbach, 2/23/95: With interest and amazement I have followed the newspaper articles and TV Programs about the "Forced Exodus of the Bruderhof Community at the Michaelshof". I feel that a little correction is important here and in order. My grandfather, Dr. Eberhard Arnold, founded the Bruderhof Communities in the 1920s in Sannerz. Later they bought the Sparhof in the Rhoen to live a life of Christian community. (This is where I was born.)

In 1937 the Bruderhof community was forced to leave Germany as suspected Communists, but a few years earlier my grandfather had united with the Hutterian Brethren Church in the States and in Canada -- this was in 1931. He had hoped, because of the growing difficulties in Germany, that they would find refuge in America. But it was difficult for his group of modern young people to become real Hutterites, which is a community founded in 1600. This is also the reason that the Bruderhofers never became real Hutterites.

After living in various countries -- Switzerland -- England -- Paraguay -- they finally returned to Germany in 1955. First they had a community in Hohenstein -- Frankish Alps -- and later the Sinntal- Bruderhof near Bruckenau. In 1962, they left Germany again of their own free will because they had difficulties amongst themselves. 1974 they reunited with the old Hutterites and accepted their customs.

Now the Hutterites no longer accept them as their brothers in faith and have actually forbidden them to call themselves "Hutterites." In the eyes of the Hutterites, they are not truthful and too worldly. As the Michaels-hof was bought as a joint venture with the Hutterite communities, they will have to sell the Michaelshof and leave for elsewhere. As a question of guilt has been brought up regarding the people of Birnbach, I feel it is important to set the record straight.

The way the Bruderhofers live today, they will never do anything to adapt to their surroundings but will always demand to be accepted. They will never admit their own mistakes, but will blame others for their misfortune. That is the reason I left the community in 1961. I am a sister of Ben Zumpe and a cousin to Joerg Barth. Yours sincerely,

KIT: Bette Bohlken-Zumpe's letter was distributed widely in Birnbach with the result that two German TV stations have decided not to document the Bruderhof's 'second exodus from Nazi Germany.' "If the reality is [what now has been reported,] then we also want to apologize for all our reports on the Citizens Union in Birnbach and most certainly will not bother them any more in the future." A source writes: "The [German] media has no idea how much upheaval they have caused by covering such a one-sided story, and especially by labeling the Birnbachers as Nazis."

Gerhard Schwalm, Citizens Union, Birnbach, "The Lies of Mr. Joerg Barth, Leader of the Bruderhof-Community Michaelshof:"

From the very beginning after his arrival Germany, Mr. Joerg Barth not only lied to the villagers of Birnbach, but told untruths and half-truths to the Media, and omitted important information. With this, Mr. Barth has not only put the name of the Hutterites to shame, but forfeited the expectation of the local people that he will handle his affairs in a decent and honest manner.

Lie #1: When Mr. Barth bought the Michaelshof, he declared that the intention was to build a Bruderhof house in Germany for at least thirty to a maximum of fifty people. In a press interview in July, 1988, he made an explicit distinction between a "Bruderhof house" and a "real Bruderhof."

--The truth: Soon after this declaration, he applied for a building expansion permit.

Lie #2: In a second interview, he declared that their growth would be very slow and that within ten years they might reach a population of one hundred members.

--The truth: When this statement was made, more than 100 people were already living on the Michaelshof.

Lie #3: In order not to arouse fears among the people of Birnbach about the Community, he declared that the Bruderhof did not intend to build their own school but would send their children to the schools in Weyersbusch and Alternkirchen, and their older students to Bonn.

--The truth: This, like almost every else he said, is a lie again, as in their new plans they have a large school building for nine grades as well as hobby and art classes.

Lie #4: During one of many press interviews, Mr. Barth declared that the Bruderhof people are non-political and therefore would refrain from voting during elections.

--The truth: Mr. Barth did, together with all those members eligible to vote in Germany go to vote last summer in order to strengthen those in the village administration who were willing to help the Community with their plans. By doing this, he managed to get a large majority of votes in Birnbach, but lost the last remnants of trust or any reputation for honesty among the people.

Lie #5: When there was unrest in Birnbach because the Bruderhof was buying houses around the Michaels-hof, he declared that the villagers should not be afraid because the Bruderhof would not buy any more houses.

--The truth: At the very same time, a contract was already signed for another house. After that, he bought two more houses.

Lie #6: Mr. Barth made a point of saying that he wants to be a friend to each and every one.

--The truth: That is the biggest lie of all! How can you call your neighbors Nazis and "enemies of their peaceful life?"

Lie #7: During all his interviews Joerg Barth repeatedly said, "Since our forced evacuation from Germany in 1937, we are now back in our homeland for the first time."

--The truth: That also is a lie! In 1947, the Bruder-hof people tried to purchase the Rhoen Bruderhof because they wanted to rebuild what Dr. Arnold had begun. But they were unable to get the Rhoen Bruderhof back because the new owner had legal to it, bought from the German government. In 1955, a Bruderhof was founded in the Frankishe Alpes, "Hohenstein." From 1956 to 1962 they had a regular Bruderhof in Bruck-enau, "Sinntal Bruderhof," which, due to some legal inaccuracy, had to be given back to the Putz family who were the legal heirs.

Lie #8: Mr. Barth has told at every possible opportunity that in 1937 the Community was forced to leave Germany due to the Nazis.

The truth: As early as 1935 all the young and military-age Bruderhof men left Germany of their own free will because of a war duty obligation [military draft - ed] and the Bruderhof people are against all military service. The families then left of their own free will because they did not want to send their children to the German Nazi schools.

Lie #9: "Our Bruderhof was closed by the Gestapo and illegally taken from us!"

The truth: The Bruderhof was not taken from them, but "auctioned off." In 1947 they did try to buy back the former Bruderhof, but this was not possible because the new owner rightfully had purchased the place. So they requested money from the German State, and the German authorities paid them their money!

These are the lies that have caused so much difficulty and disquiet in Birnbach. We could say more, but it would be repetitious.

Hans Zimmermann, 2/7/95: It is interesting to note that the articles in the German newsletters are in no way critical about the community, and if anything, give a genuine feeling of regret for the impending departure. The main and really the only reason given was the enormous difficulty in obtaining building permits, and the general frustration of the Bruderhof at the chronic procrastinations. The decision to leave was made in spite of promises that these permits were imminent.

Nowhere in the article is there a mention of real friction and animosity towards the Hutterians by the surrounding community-at- large, and they seemed to have developed an acceptable coexistence with them, even some good friendships. My sister, who was there this past summer, expressed amazement to me because her impression of the relationship between the 'hof and the outside was very favorable.

I'm afraid to "say it again," but the decision seems to have come from America. It is absolutely frightful to see how people seem to be used like pawns on a chessboard in the never-ending power struggle and desire by elements in America to maintain control. My opinion is that the SOB is doing itself an immense disservice leaving Germany under fabricated conditions. This will make a third -- or actually fourth -- return to Germany all the more difficult. Their credibility has received a major blow. Best regards,

August Pleil, 2/7/95: In response to a quotation from Milton Zimmerman in an article by Kendra Kenny in "The Pittsburgh Post- Gazette," I would like to make the following observations:

Milton says, "The doors were never closed on the Pleils." The doors were closed and a Berlin Wall was erected.

Steve Wiser says, "Separation is always painful." It seems as if the Commune only realizes now after "Free from Bondage" has been published how painful separation is!

Milton says "The Pleils want a different life style. They do not want a life of complete submission and surrender to Jesus." However my wife and I had to give up life with the Commune in order to live a life of surrender to Jesus!

When read carefully, the article shows that the Commune unwittingly has admitted several things which were done to us while living with them. Milton says, "Our only attitude is 'Poor Nadine'!" He furthermore states, "We are conscientious objectors to the military. We love God, man and our enemies. We prefer not to discuss criticisms without the presence of the other person and say, 'If you have a problem, come and discuss it face-to-face!'"

We cannot discuss things face-to-face because the Commune has built a high wall between us and them! The Commune has to realize that if they kick innocent children out, then they kick Jesus out too. Tarrel R. Miller to Rich Preheim, "Mennonite Weekly Review": Dear Mr. Preheim, you asked for my opinion of Christoph Arnold's "Open Letter from the Bruderhof", printed in the Winter 1995 issue of "The Plough. "

The Bruderhof made a serious blunder in chastising the Hutterian Brethren Church publicly, accusing both the leadership and brotherhood of spiritual and moral failure. Surely the Arnoldleut hierarchy knew this action would likely cut any remaining ties between them and the Hutterian Church, including those colonies allied with Jake Kleinsasser.

By washing Hutterite laundry in public, the Arnold-leut appear to have violated their own teaching, not to mention long-established Anabaptist and biblical precepts. Those issues on which they can not "remain silent", should have been addressed in private consultation with the Elders of the Hutterian Church and lovingly dealt with in that forum, not printed up for the whole world to see. The wider Christian community and Anabaptist believers, in particular, will likely share in this concern. As it now stands, wittingly or unwittingly, the Arnold letter simply provides more fuel for the "anti-Hutterites", that motley collection of malcontents and religious zealots who find no good thing in present-day Hutterianism.

The Hutterian Church certainly doesn't need me, a non-member, to defend it. Although researchers usually try not to get involved in a personal way, I did write to Christoph expressing both my personal sadness and general disappointment in their public letter. I told Christoph although it may not be their intent, the letter comes across as unloving, somewhat rude and terribly judgmental, almost Pharisaical. Generalizations such as there is a "general acceptance of sin in the church" is an overstatement, to say the least. Many of the allegations are similarly exaggerated. Some are simply not true. Others are based in fact, but even many of these seem magnified. To paint nearly thirty-five thousand men, women and children with such a wide brush is ludicrous. No sensible Hutterite condones alcoholism, premarital sex, illegitimacy or unfaithfulness in marriage, for example.

Almost thirty years ago, when I was only nineteen, I became a novice or "trial" member of the Schmiede-leut. Although I was young and somewhat foolish, I was sincere in my desire to know the living Christ and be a part of the people of God. I remember Prediger David Decker telling me, "We are trying, merely, with God's guiding hand, to fulfill Christ's command to 'love one another'". "Tarrel", he said, "you will not find us perfect, and please, do not expect to". That was sound advice and real spiritual wisdom. Of course, I didn't find them perfect, but then neither am I, nor is any other Christian group I've encountered since. Although I never became a "full" member of the Hutterian Church, I shall be eternally grateful to God for kindling in me, because of their life and witness, a fire that keeps on burning!

The Arnold letter tells us the Hutterian Church is "lifeless" and their "witness has been almost completely lost". They say there's a "general acceptance of sin in the church". I'm not sure what's really behind all this sudden Hutterite-bashing, but in my experience, of the several hundred Hutterites I've known personally over the last thirty years, the vast majority take their Christianity very seriously. They are sincere in their faith experience and try to live and walk in a Christian way. Any Hutterite will tell you there is always room for improvement, but the faithful should not be judged by the misdeeds and unfaithfulness of some. As in every group, the Bruderhof probably included, there are those who do not behave according to the accepted norm. Those poor unregenerate souls who persist in a non-Christian life-style are a constant embarrassment. (God alone knows how many tears are cried and prayers are prayed on their behalf daily.)

The Arnoldleut say there is "little or no spiritual leadership" in the Hutterian Church and the young people "no longer receive clear guidance and direction from their ministers, teachers and parents". This simply is not true. It's like a slap in the face to hundreds of loving fathers and mothers who do all in their power to prayerfully raise their children and young people "in the fear of the Lord". Not to be overlooked are the sincere efforts of countless grandparents, the kindergarten mothers, German and Sunday School teachers, and the ministers.

The preachers seem to be special targets of the Arnold letter. It is said for the whole world to hear: the ministers are "no longer true servants of their flocks but lord it over them". (Perhaps these are the kind of "idle words" for which an account must be given in the Final Judgment.) I told Christoph, "methinks you doth protest too much"! The misbehavior of a few does not justify any condemnation of the faithful servants of the living Christ and His church. Although I know many of the ministers personally, I certainly don't know them all. Several have been very influential in my life, and some still are. Most of those I've known over the years are very serious about their Christian service and have the cares of the brotherhood on their heart night and day. I have great respect for the many who have grown old and grey in the faith as they keep the Light burning, ever- watchful over the flock.

Contrary to what the Arnold letter declares, for many thousands of the faithful, the Hutterite way of the 1990s is not a "lifeless form". The nearly 468-year witness of the Hutterian Church cannot be dismissed that easily. Like other Christians, the Hutterite faithful also pray for spiritual renewal, yet they are still a viable alternative and God has not written them off. Sincere Christian everywhere, the Arnoldleut included, may yet learn something from the Hutterites. Most Sincerely,

Tarrel R. Miller - Hutterite Studies Centre Box 150 - Austin, Manitoba, R0H 0C0 - CANADA

Christrose Johnson Sumner 2/26/95: I just found this letter on my computer after some technical problems got sorted out. It is one of many I compose each month, either in my head or late into the night on the keyboard, -- you'll probably be glad by the end that they never get sent! But tonight I'm in the mood for communicating, but not for recomposing, so here comes my lengthy contribution, the first paragraph written earlier last year, but thereafter my thoughts of October 16th 1994... I wrote them to reassure myself that I exist, after Charlie left his visit to me out of his UK summer report!

It seemed for a while that no one met in KIT circles remembers the incidents of my childhood as I do, and childhood was all I had in the Community. I have shared a few memories with former school pals met again in Darvell, but for them the familiar world didn't stop in 1961, as it did for me: Oak Lake and Community in a time warp. Who remembers the Great Collapse of the snow caves on the side of Bear Mountain? Who else knew Fairyland? The Witch in the Woods near Park Lake Hotel? My blindness? The secret hiding places for forbidden personal treasures in the upper boughs of the evergreens across the lake? And Phewy, the skunk... Ah, Joel, you were younger than I, but you wrote and immortalised Phewy; thank you! (Any one of us would have sacrificed our shirt! I remember finding Phewy so vividly, and I loved Jim "Hersheybar" so much for being the kind of teacher who would let us do that, and allow us to play April Fool and disappear from classes across the mud banks, and who taught us such good basketball skills, and gymnastics -- no accounting for the way things were later to develop).

Recently, I found Margot Purcell shares some of my memories; any one else out there?? Charlie Lamar placed a surprise transatlantic call to me to apologise for missing the St. Albans bit of his U.K. trip out of his KIT report. And quite right, too, Charlie, because I might have sunk into great despondency to think it was so utterly forgettable. Or perhaps it was a Freudian slip to protect me from the taint of acknowledged KIT association -- it's OK., Charlie, I'm out already! So I'll add the missing link: It all started with my offer of a lift to help one lovely new acquaintance made at KIT, Andover, to travel halfway up to her Arnold cousin, a friend who hadn't made it to the get-together. We persuaded him to travel down to my place, which also gave my brothers Tim and Barnabas, and sister Elfie (once Jane) the chance to meet up with him after many years, and so began my mini- KIT. Everyone had missed this absentee, with his warm smile and twinkling eyes (and one of the best with whom to sing old community songs) so by the following weekend others gathered, including Charlie, Vince, Ramon and Judy; (various theories abound as to how Charlie came to block out the experience! French wine, perhaps, or the shock of getting his fix at last of Californian coffee?) thus prolonging the keeping in touch business by many days. Wonderfully hectic. Good job my house is elastic, and the weather was fine. The kids loved it, the dog coped, the rabbit dug out and left home! (Back now.)

I enjoyed an evening stroll with Ramon and Ben Cavanna, walking out across the Hertfordshire fields, in conversation about children and contact issues. We have different personal and professional perspectives, and Ben and I had previously found it helpful to look at things from each other's viewpoint. I was intrigued to see Ramon gathering oat straws, carefully selecting the best. Back home, we were all fascinated to watch and learn as this man of so many talents swiftly whittled pipes from them, leaving a legacy we have yet to perfect! This year, Guy and Eleanor Johnson's offspring, of which I am number seven, have had two historic family gatherings, one bearing out the immeasurable value of the wider family. This was by way of a belated celebration of the eightieth anniversary of my mother and her twin sister's birth, and involved all of her siblings, many of their children (our cousins), partners and their children. We held it at Bulstrode, where Guy and Eleanor's earthly remains are buried, and all brought picnics to share. We brought out old photos, some showing Johnsons and Jeffries at Wheathill, with maternal relations visiting, a particularly good one just before our family's departure for the U.S. in 1955. Others went back further, scenes with Mummy before she joined the Bruderhof, and still others showed how quickly we were taken back into the bosom of her loving family after our return to England following expulsion from Oak Lake.

Some of my brothers and sisters, too widely scattered geographically to make the May gathering, were there only in thought, but the weekend before the KIT European conference we Johnsons all got together for the first time since 1959. Momentous occasion! We finally made it. Don't think we don't know how lucky we are that we were not divided by the Bruderhof; we do, but even though we had all been out since 1961, and had all seen each other quite a bit over the years, the best we had managed was seven out of eight (plus parents) in 1977. Always at least one missing, until July 1994. And then it happened again, at Andover, for a few hours on Saturday: there were eight Johnsons at KIT. How Daddy and Mummy would have loved this year's European KIT, enjoyed meeting their contemporaries, the children of others (who bear spitting resemblance, even down to their dry humour), seen how well nearly everyone is doing, what an advert for the core values instilled, many Bruderhof born, now really contributing to world peace, children's welfare, or the relief of society's disadvantaged and deprived.

I wish the Bruderhof would open their eyes and hearts to what KIT is. They can accuse and name-call, but I still believe the people (as different from organisa-tion) could not mind us individuals keeping in touch, many of us relatives and friends who have kept in touch for years without anyone minding, so why fear the greater numbers now keeping in touch with greater ease through this facility of open letters, conferences and other gatherings? Why pick on Ramon as the arch enemy, accused somehow of orchestrating this? No amount of theorising helps me to understand why the people I know, who are in the community, would fear this, or worry about it, much less hate it and ostracise us for it. The occasionally expressed views with which I don't agree aren't "KIT" any more than the hidden agendas that some individuals might or might not have, or the views with which I personally feel much empathy. Neither is KIT the selected antagonising remarks or actions that members of the Bruderhof find difficult. How much more clearly can we say that KIT is a process, a medium, a facilitator?

How frustrating that ears are blocked to this: hear no good, see no good, speak no good. But the way the B'hof chooses to read us doesn't make us bad or evil; -- not now, not any more. After I last (and first) wrote to KIT, I found I had unwittingly upset two beloved people in Darvell. I do care about this. My letter had been written in an attempt at bridge-building and this adverse reaction disappointed and saddened me. Together with my sister Susan we visited and discussed the whole matter, and seemed to reach an understanding and more positive footing for their appreciation of the KIT process. But we've not been invited back, and the overall relationship between the B'hof and KIT has not improved, nor the requested opportunity to discuss things with Christoph Arnold face-to-face materialised. I hope that sharing my thoughts again does not have the same adverse effect with loved ones; I have tried not to mention names of people who might mind, although I find when I read other people's letters, they are more interesting when they include names. It is a bit stilted without, especially as all those in Hummingbird, telephone, or postal contact with each other do use names.

Postscript to above, written today: How rivetting I found the Chip Wilson correspondence! KITfolk did their best, but the passion was upon him. Reminds me of someone I knew whose family and friends presented all the cerebral arguments against marriage to a particular man in her late teens, but the heart won. Several years and lots of love and two priceless kids later, his economic ineptitude, mounting abuse and violence took their toll; they're divorced, but she'll never be free of the distress of him. So who was right? Luckily, she never cut herself off from her family (try though he did), nor they from her. Poor Chip, but he may know terrific happiness and all sorts of envelopingly wondrous things for a while. And he knows we're here -- but then, they know he knows and that's not so good for him because that's hard to forgive and they don't forget. Much Love,

Bette Bohlken-Zumpe, 2/10/95: Dear Muschi, thank you for your letter in the last KIT. I also remember the dream of your father and how shattered he himself was about this, and how he used this to make it clear to us children that God had sent his Son Jesus Christ for the humble in Spirit, the lonely, the poor, the ones that hunger and thirst for love. This story made me think about my three uncles and aunts who all gave every ounce of their lives to the vision of their father. They all have since died and left their message with their children, some of whom use a misinterpretation or their own interpretation and have led the Bruderhof so completely astray.

So I think I will write something about my uncles today as I remember them and their wives [see p. 10. -- ed]. Another reason for this is that I have had some strange reactions to my book from some of my nephews that live away from the Bruderhof. One of them wrote to me, and sent a copy of the letter to the Bruderhof:

"What are you doing, Bette ? Why are you trying to discredit our grandfather? Are you trying to discredit all Arnolds inside and outside the Bruderhof. It seems to me that by attempting to blacken E.A. you are trying to dress up the public image of your own father, who was an adulterer. To me this seems very dishonest and self- destructive. It is true, that the Ex-Bruderhofers have much in common, but to speak of unity is a total falsehood. I am very sorry that your father and a few others resented some of Opa's actions. The Nazis used this weakness to discredit the Bruderhof. Dear Bette, it seems to me that much of your life is determined by Nazi Propaganda." (written 12/31/93)

On 1/29/94 he wrote "...it seems to be one of your trademarks to talk bad about others, but doing so, you will only blacken your own name... Your father hated all the Arnolds -- even his own wife. Therefore all of you are even worse than the Nazis, but still you hypocritically pretend to be Christians. I have no adoration for you..."

Letters like that prove only the complete lack of love "between brothers" -- between men and fellow Christians.

I believe there is nothing at all in my book that discredits my grandfather. As for the love between my parents, I know that it was there even in the last breath of my father who also had only respect and love for my grandfather. His personal sin -- as the sin of all humans -- we should really leave for God to judge. He knows.

Andy Harries, 2/21/95: Hallo, everybody, it's me again! I have been learning more about our past and my past. How is that, you may ask? Answer: through the KIT organisation. Where would we be without it? Through meeting with people, corresponding with people, reading and writing, I am learning more and more all the time. I am sure that information helps us sort out our past and helps us work through things in our minds, and that helps us get over difficult events.

An experience I had recently confirmed this for me. I had to go into hospital for an operation. On the first day, I just had many different people coming round and interviewing me, but nobody seemed to have time to tell me or another chap who was in for the same what was going to happen and what to expect. But two other patients had already had the op, and told us all about it --with plenty of the unwanted details! Enough to put anybody off. But actually, both of us felt much happier and relaxed after that.

Many of us were abused on the Bruderhof and we didn't know why or what was behind it. We were small children at the time and didn't understand things. It seems that all who were born there or joined as children did not have a choice. Therefore we had to be educated, brainwashed, persuaded, forced, indoctrinated, coerced, whatever, into their way of thinking. If we thought or acted differently, that was wrong. Also it seems the men actually run the show. The women have to go along with whatever the men decide. The leaders use and manipulate the Bible to their own advantage to force through rules so they can dominate the women and get their own way. So the children are afraid of the adults, the mothers of the men and their husbands, the "plain people" of the higher class, the higher class of the Stewards, the Stewards of the Witness Brothers, the Witness Brothers of the Servants, and the Servants of the Elder. The whole structure is based on fear, with the threat of punishment or exclusion, etc., Aussprachen, husband or wife taken away, or a child or any individual who dares to think for himself or speak his mind. Now for those who joined as adults of their own free will, they know if things get tough they cannot blame anybody else for being there, because it was their own decision, and if things went wrong, they had another life to go back to. But we who were born there or joined as children had no such choice.

I have just been reading a book where two people discuss relationships between people and values. In this part of the book, they are talking about Japan's culture and values, and why they are so different from ours. Why are the people or followers totally obedient to their leader? Basically, loyalty always has been an ethic of submission. The leader doesn't have to do anything to earn it. This sounds so much like the Bruderhof. This is because Japan has been so long cut off from other cultures and other models. "One way to explain the Japanese view of hierarchy is by saying that it's a bit like the power of the parent in a very isolated one-parent family where the children don't ever see another adult. Even if the parent wanted to be democratic, and to help the children to be liberated, it would be extremely difficult for the children to achieve it because they would not have any other model they could use for comparing and criticising the single parent's values and ways of doing things. You see, most of us become independent by witnessing independence in others."

I found this very interesting, and it helps understand how the Bruderhof manages to keep such control over people. To those who feel angry about how they were treated, I say "Well done!" I feel angry, and I am not ashamed of that. If we feel angry, we are feeling some emotion, and that emotion will help to repair some of the damage which is causing that anger. To those who say we should not feel angry I say, "Hang on a minute. Were you in that person's shoes? You did not suffer that person's punishment or abuse! Nobody should say to another, 'You should not feel like that!'" (We cannot help the way we feel). It is a fact that many of us were abused physically, mentally or sexually, or various combinations of the same. These things often are worse in a religious sect because of the strong belief in the perfect way, the perfect life, for "love" and God, etc.

Any deviation is punished more severely than it would be otherwise. Also on the Bruderhof there is so much secrecy! Children were being abused, and only one or two knew about it. Fathers were forced by the Servants to punish their children. Mother were not supposed to love their children or show affection. Men would demand subservience, and the women had to submit and obey.

I was just talking to a nice young man on the phone about if we have had bad experiences that we need time to heal, to go through a healing process. He said that in America, somebody had said just the same at the KIT conference. I think it's so important to allow people their own time to heal. We all go through this process at our own pace, and that is the only way.

If people are seeking a new way or want to give their life to something, then the Bruderhof has all the answers. When you join, you must promise to give everything for the life. Everything there means everything! The more you give, the better person you will become. Well, we all want to be good, In some sects, they give their bodies for sex. As far as I can see, if we give everything, we have nothing, are nothing and are worth nothing. If we are worth nothing, then we have no value. If we don't value ourselves, then we have a low self-esteem or self-image. With a low self-image, it is hard to cope with life and then we can have emotional problems or mental breakdowns. If also it is a known fact that children do not necessarily show the results of pain, suffering, abuse, trauma, etc. when children, the symptoms and problems will usually show up later in life. Children manage to block these things out, but they only are buried and still there and will cause damage at some time.

It has hit me recently that we have been intentionally brought up with the teaching that we should be meek, mild, submissive, humble, lowly, etc. The more we were all these things, the better person we were. They liked talking about the meek and mild baby Jesus, how we should be so childlike. To think of only others. If we did anything for -- or thought of -- ourselves, that was selfish and wrong. That was egotistical. They liked talking about one's ego. Egoism was morally wrong. I am sure that was their plan to get everybody to be submissive. If the common people were submissive enough, then the leaders had all the power. Then they could manipulate all the people and mold them to their own wishes. Of course we don't see that when we are there, but that is how I see it now. The result is, of course, that many people leave the Bruderhof with a very low self-image. We might not be aware of it ourselves at the time, and other might not be aware of it either because we always try to find ways to hide our weaknesses and things which make our life harder, but this low self-image is still there and it can cause us many problems.

I believe the Bruderhof ideal is good, but it doesn't work as it should. Originally I am sure it worked well. People were full of commitment and enthusiasm. It must have looked like an answer to all their problems and questions, and I am sure it still does to many new people. Unfortunately, as time went on, they had to bring in rules and regulations, because if everybody was allowed to express different opinions, it would eventually break up. Then they had to bring in means of enforcing these rules, then ways of punishing those who transgressed, and of course ways of persuading and brainwashing people to stay and to follow 'The Way.'

Then, of course, there were the children. Ways had to be found of making them stay as well, so mind-control was used. If people were born and grew up there, they had no real contact with the "Outside World," with other people or with other values. Everything outside was portrayed as wrong or evil. So we had no choice. Why choose the wicked outside world when we had the perfect life?

On a different subject, about the "Open Letter" from J. C. Arnold, I don't want to go into that, but only the business about it being written "On Behalf of All Its Members." Now, for people who have not experienced how the systems works, all decisions in the Brotherhood meetings, which are the meetings of the baptized members, are supposed to be unanimous. So it makes it sound as if all those hundreds of members who have been wholeheartedly supporting the unity with the Hutterites have now all suddenly, miraculously, changed their minds, all at the same time.

This just goes to show how everybody just foes along with whatever they are told. It reminds me of the time at Wheathill leading up to the "Big Crisis." We were told about certain things that were happening, then we would be read excerpts or whole letters written by so-and-so from America to Paraguay, Paraguay to America and England. Whatever the Servant said, we just went along with it. Whatever he said, we agreed with wholeheartedly. When the Servants showed disgust, we did as well. When they showed agreement, so did we. When they showed anger, so did we. When the Servants wrote a letter in reply and read it out and explained why it was necessary, we all agreed. We were and felt a very strong unity, but of course we did not have all the facts. We only knew what the leaders wanted us to know. So to me, this ideal of a united brotherhood, or of a letter "on behalf of all its members," is just a fallacy, a con.

I was glad for what you wrote in the February KIT, Hans Martin. That is what the KIT newsletter and organisation is all about: somewhere where we can express our views and experiences. That does not mean that I agree with everything you say. I do not believe that if we disagree with certain things on the Bruderhof that we should join and then get them changed. Unfortunately, this does not work. They will not change for a single person joining. They are right and have got all the answers. I don't know of anyone who has joined and then got them to change any of their fundamental beliefs. Growing up with two languages can be an advantage, but it can also have disadvantages. Working in certain environments we can be treated as outsider or foreigners. We have a Bruderhof or a German accent, and different values. This makes us stand out and we get devalued. In England, Germany is still the old enemy or the 'baddy' for many people. I do agree with you, though, that we should be very careful how we talk about other people and what we say. I think we should only mention names if we are quite sure that that person will not mind. Greetings,

-------- Poetry--------

by Hannah Goodwin Johnson

Fate

O shadowy mother, from time to time in silence

You show your face: "Why?" I ask you.

"Why did you give birth to me?"

In our separations with grief I cry: "Why me!"

And the earth looks suddenly dazzling

In twilight gloom:

I see a tiny flower blue,

Forget-me-not small, blue bright,

Brighter than all the other day colors

Or even the dusky crimson hue

Where darkening purple and gold

Fade under deep blues of the sky by night,

The night sky that is forever unto the night,

Filled with the stars of eternity.

Magic Woods

I cannot climb

the woodland trail today

for, if I were in the wood,

then I could not see

the silver-veined design in filigree

of winter-brightened twigs.

A light snow in late winter

brushed the hill

before me, motley

in contrast to the distant hue

where blue-grey dim

subdues my anguish.

This is a marvelous visual distraction,

full of the contrast

of black-wet tree trunks

against the snow that settled

on the tumble of leaves.

-- I love a wood,

the brown leaf smell and rustle.

But I shall restrict my steps

and not climb the trail

for this that is so magical.

-- to see the branches stand

against my eyes -- restrains my feet.

It is more than what I can believe.

of you

beauty i see

when i look at you

you are poetry

and then i saw you

laughing

young and beautiful

the way you laugh

reminds me of when

i was young

i tried to jump through a breaker

my motions were badly timed

i was tumbled by the wave

then when i stood

with rushing foam over my feet

all bubbly and sweet

were the shining ripples

like your laughter

and everything about you is

the poetry

where the tide line trails

along the beach

where the river flows to the sea

so my heart is saying

such beauty is too much

the poetry is in motion

and everything about you is

the shining ripples of your laughter

KIT: The following letter describes some of the suffering that Hutterite families are experiencing because of infighting between the "Gibb" and the "Oiler" factions.

Name Withheld: This is a detailed report of the events that took place at Rock Lake Colony, on the 1st and 2nd of April 1994. It should be noted that the purpose of this report is not to turn people against each other, but to make people aware of the evil, destructive force that is at work among us.

Peacefully at the Stonewall Hospital on April 1, 1994 Margaret Gross (Nee Tschetter) wife of Rev. Michael Gross Rock Lake Colony, passed away into eternity at the age of eighty-seven years. She had 12 children... and 71 great-grandchildren.

She lived on a Hutterite Colony all her life and was a sincere, honest, and devoted follower of the Hutterian Brethren Church She left behind a set of footprints of which her family should be proud. She served the Hutterian Brethren Church sincerely and taught her children to do the same. Unfortunately, all but four have turned their backs on the church and on what they were taught while growing up under her rule and discipline.

Hutterian Brethren religion boasts century-old traditions. For instance, at the funeral of all devoted members a few ministers will come to the family of the deceased and offer them words of comfort and ask for the body to be taken to a place (usually the church) where family, friends and relatives have gathered for an evening of singing and prayers. However, it seems as though Grandmother was so insignificant to Jake W (Blumengart) that she did not even deserve an honorable wake. For at about 9-9:30 PM, Jake W. of Blumen-gart (Gibb movement's so-called self-elected elder) sent Dave M. of Blumengart (who is not even a witness brother) along with his henchmen (most of them not even related to Grandmother) to bring the body to where he and other Gibb preachers were waiting to perform one of their many deceitful, scandalous ceremonies. When Blumengart Dave and his henchmen entered Grandma's house, it seemed as if a dark cloud of evilness rolled in with them. Some people still remember Blumengart Dave's facial expressions and have commented that they cannot get his appearance out of their mind. They say he reminded them of an evil person possessed by some kind of demonic force.

The entering of the henchmen marks the beginning of a time that will never be forgotten by anyone who was present. Mike (Grandmother's oldest son) was seen nodding in deceitful acknowledgment to the henchmen that they should now come and grab the body away from the children and grandchildren that were gathered around the coffin. Margaret (Newdale), Marie and Christy (Brightstone) who were seated at the right side of the coffin all broke down in heartbroken crying. They couldn't be comforted, and couldn't believe that their blood brothers and sisters would plot in favor of such an evil deed. They pleaded with their brothers and sisters not to go through with their plans of having Grandma taken to a Gibb wake, but unsuccessfully. Their brothers Solomon, Mike and Jonty were determined to have the body ripped away from their sisters to be taken to the Gibb wake. Fortunately, however, Tom Vetter and Dave (Brightstone) and Joe (Newdale) along with their wives remained faithful and stood steadfast on their beliefs. The women collapsed in hurt and pain onto the coffin and would not move. Things got so ugly that Dave, Tom and Joe along with their families were ready to leave. They said, "rather then participate in such horrible deeds we'll pack up, take our wives and children and meet at another colony and have a wake with or without the body, so long as there is no Gibb present."

Realizing that they were defeated and that we would not take part in such ghastly, shocking and horrifying ceremonies, the Gibbs seemed to loose control of their deep-rooted and wicked hatred. The church ministers present were called evil, drunk and crooked culprits. Mary (Rock Lake) Grandma's daughter-in-law told Sam (Springfield) to "go home, you've stolen enough from Rock Lake. We don't want you here because you're nothing more than a culprit." She went on to tell Dave Vetter (Rock Lake minister elected by the Hutterian Brethren Church) that "You call yourself a prediger, you're nothing but a thirteen-year-old boy. Besides that you're just a drunk. You've stolen Rock Lake blind, you never gave a hoot for Grandma and Grandpa or for anybody except yourself. Go back to Keystone and leave us in peace, you're nothing but stealer anyway." She also told Tom Vetter, and Dave (Brightstone), "You never did care about your in-laws. The only time you visited Rock Lake was when you could go drinking with Grandpa." I guess by saying this she's trying to blame her husband's alcoholism on someone else). Now you're trying to fool people that you actually cared for Grandma, but we know better. Just leave us alone and go home, all of you. We don't want you here." To some, Mary's (Mike's wife) attitude may come as a surprise. However, those who are acquainted with her personally know that she is impudent and the owner of an impolite mouth that should be washed with soap and water.

Throughout this time, the henchmen tried to pull the coffin away from Margaret, Christy (Grandma's daughters), who at this time had already collapsed onto the coffin. Jonty (Sommerfield) was seen trying to nudge his sisters' heads away from their mom. When one of his sisters told him, "You know better than participating in such a horrible deed," I'm sure she said, "Deep down in your heart you're not acting as you really feel. You're acting simply out of fear." He simply shoved her hand away from him. She told him that he was raised and taught differently, and that he should know better than this. However, this did not have any impact on him at all, for he along with Solomon and Mike, didn't listen. They just kept on trying to push their sisters and their children away from the coffin.

The pushing and shoving by the henchmen became so vicious, that at one point Solomon (Rock Lake) grabbed Joe (Newdale) by the scruff of his neck and tried to stop him from preventing the lid of the coffin from being slammed down onto Margaret, Marie and Christy (who were seated at the right side of the coffin). During this commotion, more verbal abuse and assaults were thrown at the Hutterian Brethren ministers by young Gibb followers who at this time were standing on chairs. When someone in the crowd asked Tom Vetter, Dave Vetter, and Sam Vetter to recite some songs from the Lutrishes Gesangbuch, one of Jonty's (Sommerfield) married daughters yelled at the ministers (while standing on a chair) "They don't know any good songs! All they how is how to drink whiskey and eat sausages!" It's hard to comment on how long this Commotion went on. It seemed as if it lasted for about two hours, but really I believe it lasted only half an hour to forty-five minutes.

After some of the commotion had settled down, Tom Vetter (Brightstone) asked some of us to take the coffin's lid out of the room. When we tried to take the lid out of the room, Sara (Solomon's wife Rock Lake), put her feet on the lid and tried to hold it back with both hands. When Joe (Newdale) tried to remove her hands from the lid, she slapped him on his hand. In contrast to this true version of the story, some Gibbs have already made up a different tale. A couple of days later they said, "Joe (Newdale) had his foot in the coffin." But in fact it was a Gibb woman who had her feet on the lid of the coffin.

When most of the Gibbs had finally left the house at about 11 PM, Sam Vetter (Springfield), Sam Vetter (Decker), Tom Vetter (Brightstone), and Dave Vetter (Rock Lake) along with everybody else present started to sing a few songs from the Lutrishes Gesangbuch. Sam Vetter (Decker) paused for a moment to leaf through the pages of the Gesangbuch in search of other songs. At this point Mike (Rock Lake, Grandma's son) passed by Sam Vetter and intentionally ripped the songbook out of his hands, and by doing this shred and tore a few pages of the songbook. I do not believe that Mike wanted the songbook to sing along with the rest of us, because when Sam Vetter asked him if he wanted the book, he simply waved his arms and muttered something that was intangible and walked away. We, the Hutterian Brethren Christian Church, were kind of hoping against hope that the Gibbs would leave us in peace for the funeral. But much to our chagrin, the Gibbs proved once again that they are incapable of feeling shame or remorse.

The funeral was just as awful as the wake, if not worse. At about 10 AM the family had agreed (Gibbs and Hutterian Brethren) that the faithful Hutterian Brethren ministers would be in charge of the funeral.. However, Jake (Blumengart) refused to go along with the family's wishes and asked for a compromise. John Hofer (James Valley) was appointed by the Gibbs to be their puppet. He came to the room where Grandma lay and called some family members into a meeting. At the meeting it was again decided that the faithful Hutterian Brethren ministers would be in charge of the funeral. John left after the meeting had been adjourned and took his verdict to Jake (Blumengart). Apparently, he was not happy with what he heard for John came back a second time and called Mike, Jonty and Solomon (Grand-ma's sons) to a meeting that was now held in the church. The three brothers followed John just like three little puppies would follow their master. What was decided at this 'cat-cheese' meeting I do not know. But John came back a third time and again asked some family members to another meeting. This meeting Christy (Brightstone) refused to attend.

At this meeting John asked Margaret (Newdale) and Marie (Brightstone) if they would not meet them (the Gibbs) halfway. His plans were to have the Gibbs hold half of the sermon and the faithful Hutterian Brethren ministers the other half. Margaret (Newdale) said, "No way! To me there is a left and a right, but no in-between." Marie (Brightstone) said, 'My religious beliefs do not allow me to go halfway. It's either all left or all right. There is no in-between." He replied by saying, "Religious belief has nothing to do with any of this and it shouldn't come into play with what we're trying to do." This statement makes a person wonder if John Hofer (James Valley) has any religion at all. He was like a tempter coming to tempt them into falling or going along with the Gibbs' Godless movement. This attitude is certainly not a characteristic of the Hutterian Brethren religion to which the Gibbs claim they belong.

John Hofer (James Valley) again came to tempt like a tempter in the night, but this time he approached the faithful Hutterian Brethren ministers who were sitting at Dave Vetter's house. Present at this meeting were Sam Vetter (Springfield), Sam Vetter (Decker) and Dave (Brightstone). The Gibbs' purpose for this meeting was to try and compromise of who should be in charge of the funeral. In other words, they wanted the Hutterian Brethren ministers to forget that there is a split in the Church, and pretend that nothing is wrong. After John (James Valley) had said his piece, Sam Vetter (Decker) told him that the faithful Hutterian Brethren ministers would not even enter the church unless, of course, the Gibb ministers would sit right by the back door with a wall or chalk line dividing the two sides. Then pray that God would forgive the faithful Hutterian Brethren ministers and understand that the line is supposed to represent a wall. The Gibbs did not accept this proposal and continued to plot against the wishes of the family members who are not Gibbs.

When it came time for the funeral (about 3:30 PM) the Gibbs came once again for the body. The henchmen were sent the second time (by whom we are not quite sure). They did not go through with the traditional procedures, but rather sent Ike (who is a Gibb Farm Boss in Rock Lake) as a leader to try and take the body by force. After about fifteen or twenty minutes, the ministers decided that if Margaret, Marie, Christy and their families decided to let the body go, then we'll let the Gibbs take the body. They (the Gibbs) did not carry the body out of the room in the respectable head-first fashion, but rather they grabbed Grandmother feet-first and left. The hurt, pain and anguish suffered by the children, and grandchildren cannot be described. The children were not able to attend their own mother's funeral just as the grandchildren could not attend their grand-mother's funeral. But the Gibbs did not seem to care about how many people they hurt or how deep the pain would go.

The Gibbs seem to be just as one author wrote, "Those that yield themselves to sin, to serve, and to let such rule over them. These people separate themselves from the Church of Christ and depart from her, and leave her and go further into destruction." Just like the Gibbs, they just keep on going as they still do to this day, living their lives just as if there was no God in heaven. What hurt even more was the fact that until now there was a flicker of hope left that some of Grandmother's children would see the light and not take part in such an evil deed. But as Grandmother was carried away, only four of her ten children present stayed behind. Not participating in this ghastly ordeal was: Margaret (Newdale), Marie and Christy (Brightstone), and Joe (Fort St. John B.C.). The rest decided to follow the Gibb movement probably long before that, but to us this was like proof to a fact that we did not want to accept, the fact being that over half the children of a devoted, sincere and true person such as Grandmother had decided to give up what they were taught ,and adopt a new movement. This new movement is nothing but a destructive force ruining anything and everybody who might cross its path, and has come to be known as the Gibb Movement.

It has been over a month now since this ordeal has taken place. To everyone who was present, (especially the children and grandchildren) this affair has haunted them ever since. The memories of this horrible deed are still fresh in everyone's mind, and probably will be for some time. The only comfort is knowing that Grandmother was a true Hutterite in all sense of the word. The Gibbs might think that they stole and ruined just another soul by taking her to their so-called funeral, but we know that no one on earth can take away what she had gathered while still living. It should be noted that Grandmother was a true Hutterite, and that she by no means ever agreed with the Gibb movement. It should be noted that Sara (Decker) was not present at the funeral, and is not a Gibb. The Gibbs might think that by forcefully taking Grandma to their funeral they converted her into something which she was not. They don't seem to realize that this is not possible, and never will be.

It should be mentioned that there were several older ministers who were present at this ordeal. They have commented that never in all their lives, as Servants of the Word or otherwise, in Winnipeg or in any other city or town of the world, have they been witness to such a horrible godlessness and sinful deed.

------ A Short Story ------

DANIEL

by Susanna Alves Levy (formerly Fischli)

I was twelve, living in the Paraguayan communities of the Bruderhof sect, and I was in love. He was much older, a grown-up, just into his twenties. Everyone liked his wit. His smile was charming. When I realised that I was head-over-heels in love with him, no one else existed for me but this young man. I will call him Daniel. It is not his real name.

Whenever I crossed his path, my heart wanted to jump out of my throat like a bird trying to escape. It was beautiful to be in love.

Then one day, the brotherhood decided that he should go away to England, to join the Wheathill community. My heart stopped.

Mother was in hospital at that time. Twenty-two-year-old Elisabeth was our foster mother. We were a handful of nine. My oldest brother was fourteen, the youngest about ten months. It was from Elisabeth, who was in the Jugend (youth group), that I had heard that Daniel was going away.

On moonlit nights when the Jugend danced their folk dances in the village centre, I would be terribly jealous. I wanted so much to grow up quickly and belong to the Jugend so that I could dance with Daniel... It was annoying and angering to be so plain and small, to be just a very young girl.

For hours on end -- or so it seemed -- I stood in the small dark hallway at home and stared through the night, straining to see the dancing young men and women of whom I made out only vague silhouettes. I would try to make out Daniel's shape, to pick out his voice. And whenever they sang the love song "Feins-liebchen, du sollst mir nicht barfuss gehn", tears tumbled and my throat ached and the powerful feelings were quite confusing.

I was in anguish when I thought about his departure. One day, I thought, one day he must be told about my love for him. He must not leave without knowing. But how could I let him know? These kind of feelings were taboo, no one spoke about them, one kept them as secret as possible. One spoke with one's eyes only, one tried to be near the beloved one, but it had to be inconspicuous, so no one would notice or suspect anything.

My frustration and impatience increased when I was reminded that Daniel was already a brotherhood member. I wasn't even taking part in the Gemeindestunde, the meetings of communal prayer. Community life didn't mean anything in particular to me. I was born into community and thought nothing special of it. I belonged there because that's where my parents were. I knew, though, that later, as a grown-up, I would have to decide if I wanted to become a member too. And I probably would, because only brotherhood members got married, and I was intent on marrying Daniel.

So what should I do to let Daniel know that I was so much in love with him? Did he actually notice me? I certainly saw only him. I would go early for the communal meals to secure my place at the girls' table. The "youth table", as it was called, was at the other far end of the room. From my chosen seat I could usually see Daniel quite well and I would watch him all the time, during the song, during the silence after the song, during the whole meal. After meals, if he stayed around chatting with people, I would linger nearby with my little friends. But I had to be careful and watch it. I did not want to be seen as wanting to be near Daniel.

I never spoke to him.

I had been watching his comings and goings closely for a long time. He worked on the campo with the cattle. His daily routine was irregular. Sometimes I didn't see him for a few days running. He often rode away very early, when daylight hadn't even broken, and returned only after dark. Keeping track of his movements was also difficult because he lived at the eastern tip of Loma Hoby, whereas the School Wood, where I spent most of my day, lay west, and our house, the Wiesenhaus, north.

So here I was, sweetly fulfilled but sad, wonderfully happy with the many feelings evoked by my love for Daniel. My naive adoration introduced me to so many new sensations. My heart could beat wildly, or hurt, and then again I could rejoice and jump, run and dance -- it was beautiful to be in love, to love! But oh, Daniel was going away to England! Would he come back eventually? Elisabeth said no, he would stay in Wheathill. He had health problems, she said, and he would be having extensive health checks because something had to be done about it. Health problems! This too! A new kind of ache was added to my kaleidoscope of feelings.

I continued thinking hard about a way of letting him know. He ought to be told. I would then wait for him, and he for me...

Mother was recovering only slowly and was still very frail, so we moved to a house closer to the hospital. This would enable her to visit us daily for half an hour or so. My heart somersaulted with joy! The new house was just opposite to where Daniel lived! I was catapulted into bliss. At least now, during the last weeks of his stay, I would see him more often. The path to his hut went right past the front door of our new living quarters.

My heart quivered with anticipation each time I heard his horse trot by on the soft sandy path. There was the gentle creaking of leather against leather. From then on I would not go to bed at night until I heard Daniel riding past. I stood in the shelter of darkness at my open window, and it was here that I discovered those most beautiful Paraguayan nights: the gentle warm north winds whispering and rustling, heavy sweet scents drifting from night blooms. And something very great, very huge and sweet began moving my heart and I did not know what to do with it all. Countless shooting stars did I see falling, and they all fell into my lap. The silver shimmer of the moon's rays lay on the sand of the path, now velvety white where it had been golden in the sunshine of the day. And then the sound of hooves approaching, a saddle creaking softly -- there, there he was! There was Daniel!

I stepped back into the safe darkness of the room, but my eyes burnt through the layers of night and followed his shape until it disappeared along the path underneath the branches of the orange trees surrounding his hut. There was a brief shimmer of light down there, but only after that too disappeared was I able to go to bed and sleep.

Little Lily, my two-year old sister, fell ill and had to stay at home. I was asked to baby-sit her one afternoon. It was raining heavily. Lily was asleep. I slipped out of the house into the rain. I had an idea and wanted to find out if my plan was viable.

My hair was drenched immediately, dripping and heavy. The dress clung to my back. Small water puddles splashed around my bare feet, wet sand seeped between my toes. I loved rain, I loved walking in it. The orange trees around Daniel's hut were heavy with fruit. As I stood quietly beneath them, I listened to the humming and rushing of the rain. Noisy drops trickled and splashed from the leaves. The earth smelled good. There was not much undergrowth, but branches hung low and each time I brushed against them, I was showered with heavy drops. Drops trickled down my face.

I felt hot. I stretched and began pulling oranges from some lower branches whilst slowly approaching the hut. I had noticed that normally at this time of day no one was there. Anyhow, the whole village seemed deserted. No human sounds could be heard, there was only the drip-drip of the rain, softly, constantly, as if it would never stop. I stole my way around the hut. The windows were boarded up, but above one of them I saw a gap. I quickly climbed onto the sill, peering into the gloom of the hut. Three beds. There, that must be Daniel's bed! That is his faja, the broad waist band. I knew it well!

My heart was thumping by now, I thought it would explode. I jumped down and ran. The soft ground made no noise.

I had just emerged from among the wet trees onto the path, clutching my apron of oranges, when I saw a figure approach through the grey sheets of rain, a grey outline in the greyness of that day. My heart stopped: It was Daniel! He was coming right towards me!

I lowered my eyes, my cheeks burning. Like a lizard I slipped past him and ran, hardly realising that he had greeted me. Once in my own living room, I stood shaking. What a lucky escape! Still clutching the oranges I stood for a while, quite still, listening out into the rain and into myself, into my wildly beating heart.

It was still raining the next day, as if the rain had come to stay. Lily was not much better so I volunteered to spend the afternoon with her. I had an idea. I had made a decision, and I was going through with my plan. If I stayed at home and the rain continued and Lily was quiet like the day before, it should work out all right.

In a secret corner at the bottom of a drawer I had found a postcard. It belonged to my seventeen-year-old sister Anna. The card showed two beautiful, slightly open, rosebuds. On the back of the card, Anna had written her name with a pencil in big childish letters. But I rubbed and rubbed with the eraser, and in the end, I was satisfied. Anna's name had disappeared. Only I knew how to make out the impression of her name on the back of that card. What did Anna want that card for anyhow? Red roses for a seven-year- old? No! I was sure she wouldn't miss anything.

Then in my own hand I wrote: "For Daniel. From me." Just this. No word of love, of adoration, of hope. No signature. Only "For Daniel from me". Those four words said it all, contained everything that was inside of me wanting to be told. They held the universe of my feelings.

Then came the great moment. I was already shivering and trembling, thinking about the execution of my plan. But I had made up my mind and nothing and no one would stop me now.

Again I had watched the path and knew that of the three young men living in that hut. Nobody was around this afternoon. So there I went once more, slipping out into the rain, along the narrow path under the trees. Today I did not think of oranges. I wanted to do everything very quickly and then run away immediately. Again the constant dripping of raindrops around me. Everything was grey, quiet, subdued. Daniel, as if he had sensed something, had left the window slightly open above his bed. I bent in and slipped the postcard between the two sheets just below the pillow. Then I turned and ran.

Before stepping out onto the sandy road, I stood quietly listening. Nothing could be heard, nobody could be seen. Only my heart was thumping. I sighed a sigh and slowly, in dignified manner, I walked back to our house through the rain. I lay on my bed in my wet dress. Lily was sleeping. There was nothing else to be done. I had achieved what I had set out to do. My heart felt light in a kind of dizzy drunkenness. It was done, finally, and I did not wish to undo it!

That same evening nothing happened, nor the next morning. I forgot that I had actually done something quite out-of-the-ordinary, and spent my time as usual: school in the morning, then luncheon with the grown-ups, afterwards the daily siesta at home.

The bell rang to signal that siesta was over. Father went to the kitchen to fetch "vesper", the afternoon snack. My two older brothers were in front of the house, as was I with Anna. The weather had changed overnight, a lovely sunny day. I felt lighthearted and unconcerned. I hadn't seen Daniel so far, and assumed he had left for work at dawn, to be back only late, after dark.

My brothers were playing a game of marbles while Anna and I were skipping my rope. Suddenly my feet stopped, also my heart. Two figures stepped out of the greenery. I froze. Daniel, instead of continuing with Manuel along the sandy road as he would do at that time of day, had turned toward our house and was coming toward me. I couldn't take my eyes off his face and suddenly a boundless fear took hold of me. My feet seemed nailed to the ground, only my heart was beating frantically. An icy coldness slowly covered my brow, my forehead, a sensation I had not known before.

Daniel's face approached, it came closer and closer. His eyes were laughing, his mouth was smiling. He was so much a man, and so near to me as he had never been before. He stopped in front of me and, slipping his hand into his shirt pocket, pulled out the card.

"Do you know from whom this card comes?" he asked in a half- whisper.

His face was close to mine. I felt his eyes wander over my face. I could not draw back, I could not turn my head, I could not disappear. And I could not answer.

"Look here, Simone," he coaxed, "I found this card. Don't you know from whom it is?"

He had spoken my name! My heart missed a beat.

His eyes were still laughing, but his mouth had become serious. Suddenly that sparkle in his eyes hit me. He was laughing at me! And instantly I found myself again, and a furious and urgent anger mingled with my confusion and terror, a terrible burning anger, and shame too.

"I do not know that card," I managed to say defiantly.

"NO?"

He turned it over and showed me my own handwriting. But he pointed not to my message, but to something else.

"See here," he continued, and his finger rested on the spot where I had erased Anna's name. "Here," he said. "The name of your sister. I can still read it. Are you quite sure it wasn't you?"

I had lost, and I knew it. A terrifying sensation of helplessness surged and began spreading inside of me.

"I don't know anything about the card. I do not know the card! I do not know at all what you are talking about," I managed to blurt out vehemently, and suddenly I snatched the card out of his hand from in front of my face, and instantly I ran, heading for my bedroom. I dashed through the bedroom and through my parents' room and, in terrified flight, out of the back window right into the brambly underbrush that spread behind our house.

I knew nearly every square meter of this sizable piece of rough growth. I had often slipped into its wilderness, watching the apereas, those fat tail-less rats that made all those fascinating grass tunnels and well-trodden tiny paths. In the centre was a small patch covered with grass, like a miniature clearing in the middle of a big forest. Here I had read many a book and spent countless hours, far away from everything and everybody. No one knew my hiding place. It was here that I sought solace and found solitude when I didn't know what to do with myself, when life was too helter-skelter to understand, too confusing, too difficult. From this spot I could still overlook the road that led to the centre of the village, and sometimes I saw Daniel walking along. From my hideaway, I could hear everything I wanted to hear: The voices of people, the call of the bell. If I wanted to see them, I needed only to roll over and peep through the twigs of my shelter. There they were, walking to and fro like busy insects. I saw them but they didn't see me. Here I felt safe. Not even my ever-so-smart brothers had found my hiding place so far.

I threw myself down and buried my burning face in my arms. I wanted to cry but the tears would not come. Only despair burned inside and that terrible anger, the rage, the helplessness and shame -- and love, this love for Daniel. I lay there, very quietly, and let myself go and allowed the waves to close in and bury me.

After a while I lifted my head. I saw the card in my hand. I had briefly forgotten it. It now seemed so shoddy. The two rose buds looked artificial. It was a photograph, I knew, but the blue of the sky was now too blue, and the dewdrops on the petals were just water, sprayed on by a human hand. The red of the flowers was too red, their stems too stiff and straight. They were more like tulips than roses, I thought, and I had never found tulips very attractive!

Should I tear it up? But what would I do with the pieces? No, that wasn't safe enough. I'd have to make it all as if it had never happened. But how?

I saw someone walking along the road toward the village centre. I stared. It was Daniel! What had he been doing all this time at our house? Another heat wave engulfed me. I bet he waited for my father and told him everything! I squirmed with embarrassment. Before my inner eye, I repeated the encounter. Suddenly I remembered registering how my brothers had stopped playing and had stared at me. They had heard every word! And Anna had listened too. I recalled her big unbelieving eyes and her whimper: "But that is my card!" She wouldn't have grasped what was going on. But those other two, they probably wouldn't leave me in peace anymore, those two devils! They had enough imagination to put two- and-two together.

I waited. The minutes went by. Slowly my heart began to calm down. My forehead reverted to its normal sensation, the iciness disappeared. What stayed behind was an acute sense of shame. He had made fun of me! He didn't take me seriously! I should have known! Why was I so foolish, so silly? Now I would have to avoid him, I wouldn't be able to look at him anymore without embarrassment, and that seeking of his face at mealtimes would have to come to an end too. Who was I, after all, to have such ideas? I was a nothing, a nobody, a little girl, a child! Not even my body showed any signs of a womanly form. There was still so much growing up to do! I felt terribly ashamed of myself and of my deed.

The humiliation! That sparkle in his eyes, and my bewilderment. He made fun of you! I thought. He thinks it's a joke! He probably showed the card to the two others who share the hut with him! Hatred now crept in, toward Manuel who had been there when Daniel came up to me. Had not Manuel grinned gleefully? I hated him! I hated Daniel! I hated my brothers, my father, all of them!

No. I did not hate Daniel. Now I was afraid of him, afraid of a chance meeting. I would have to avoid those paths he usually trod. But as I knew his habits and routine, this should not be too hard. And from now on, in the dining room, I would sit where I could not see him and he would not see me.

The bell calling to departments or work places had sounded a long time ago. It had grown quiet at home. The clatter of cups and spoons had ceased. Surely they had all gone to where they had to go. Slowly I crept out of my hiding place and sneaked farther away from the house. I entered a small wood area where the nearest outhouse stood. I slipped inside. I let the card fall into its dark stinking hole. So, now it was gone. Now it had disappeared. It would rot, be eaten by worms. Nobody would ever see it again. If anybody asked me about it, I could now simply deny its existence.

I walked home very slowly. This time I showed myself. If someone saw me, so be it.

At home everyone had gone. Lily had been taken back to the toddlers' house. I was worried that father might still be at home waiting for me, but he had also left. I remained in my room for the rest of the afternoon. I slept a long time. When I awoke, it seemed as if the card story had happened a long, long time ago.

Late that afternoon, mother came around for her daily half hour. She entered my room. I was still on my bed. When I saw her face I knew that someone had told her.

"Simone," she said. "Why did you do this, with the card?"

I kept a defiant silence. Who had told her? Father? Daniel? She and Daniel got along. I had seen them recently, chatting away on that hospital verandah.

"Don't you want to tell me about it?" she asked. "After all, I'm your mother."

I continued stubbornly silent. No, I would not talk about it with her. With nobody.

"Well, Simone," she said, with disappointment in her voice, "as you do not seem to want to tell me about it, let me at least say quite clearly that a girl does not do this kind of thing, going into the bedroom of a young man, putting things into his bed! It is just not done!"

Her voice was stern. I remained silent, but shame and embarrassment engulfed me again, and anger too. And feelings of humiliation and helplessness. I stared at the ceiling. She watched me quietly for a moment, then she left the room closing the door softly behind her.

So, well, that was that, then! I sighed with relief. Thank goodness she hadn't blown it out of all proportion.

That evening Daniel wasn't at the communal meal. I didn't see him during luncheon the next day either, but he did appear the following evening.

I had already settled into a sense of lightness and relief of not having to confront him when he strode into the dining hall using the door right next to our girls' table. Waves of heat and cold engulfed me. He stopped and looked at us, one by one, and I knew he was up to something. I huddled in the farthest corner and tried to make myself even smaller, but it was useless. He had spotted me. He came over and stood opposite. He seemed huge, towering, overpowering. A giant! Again my forehead was icy cold and I could not tear my eyes off his face. And -- he was smiling.

"I want my card," he said in a loud whisper.

"I don't have any card!" I hissed back.

"Oh yes, you have that card," he insisted. "It is mine, and I want it back!"

He sounded determined and suddenly his mouth didn't seem to smile and an angry light flashed in his eyes.

"I have told you already," I whispered fiercely. "I do not have any card! I don't know what you are talking about! Go away and leave me in peace!"

The girls were watching in amazement. Some of them were already nudging each other, giggling and whispering. I went into a red hot rage.

"Shut up!" I snarled. Then I glared at Daniel. I was by now a quivering bundle of fury. We stared at each other for a moment.

"Well," he said in a low voice and with a shrug. "That is a pity. I wanted to keep it."

He bowed ever so slightly, the smile returned to his eyes and was already playing around his mouth. He turned and went.

I had won this unequal fight. But I wanted to die! To run away, hide, not show myself ever again. There it was, the anger, the shame, but I had to stick it out. The giggling and whispering had stopped. They knew me well enough to stop the nonsense.

After the meal, one of the girls asked softly, carefully, what that was all about, this card that Daniel wanted so much?

"Oh, he is a fool," l answered disdainfully. "He only wants to make me angry."

She left it at that. No one else dared ask. The matter was ended. Finished with. It now can be forgotten, by everybody, including myself.

* * *

It was as if the incident triggered Daniel's move to Isla Margarita, where he was to some time prior to his departure to England. But before he moved, he gave me another fright. It was after "vesper". The rest of the family had already gone. I was dawdling with the dishes in front of the house, pouring the washing- up water onto the grass, when Daniel came walking up the path, directly up to me. As he stood in front of me I was again nailed to the ground. But this time I was determined I was going to fight! If he insisted, he would get it...

He only wanted some ink! His pen had leaked and he had run out of ink, could I get him some?

I was trembling. My hand shook when I gave him the ink pot. He must have noticed but he didn't say a word. He smiled, but there seemed to be a wall through which I couldn't see. It was probably better that way, I thought. He is going away anyhow, for always and ever. It was all in vain...

"Put it into the living room, please, when you have finished," I said before he turned away. "I have to go now."

"Indeed, as you wish," he said. Adding a "thank you," he bowed in his very own way, very elegantly. As if I were a lady, I thought, and blushed. I turned and fled. Had he seen my blushing face? There had been that twinkle, that mischievous lightning in his eyes... I left the house, walking away briskly. I would not risk waiting for him to return that ink pot, oh no!

I did not see Daniel for many weeks. But one day, as I was walking to school, I heard the sound of horses approaching, and there he was, sitting smoothly on his horse as if born onto that saddle. With him was that other boy, Manuel, whom I had sworn to hate for the rest of my life.

Daniel held back his horse to let me walk by. He was laughing, and I blushed deeply. He lifted his straw hat, bowed and said: "Guten Tag gnadiges Fraulein!" I glanced up. He is mocking me, he finds it funny, I told myself as I proudly walked away. Take care! Don't give him another opportunity!

Time went by. In a way I was glad that I could now forget Daniel, without having foolishly walked into difficulties or having made myself punishable by the adults. They punished so easily! They always found so many good reasons for punishments. Happily for me, this episode had not been selected as a punishable matter, and I felt a huge sense of relief. Still, deep down, inside a tiny corner of my heart, I felt a burning sadness. I had loved so much! Why had it all turned out the way it did? Why had it to be this way?

* * *

It was a mid-week, mid-afternoon. I had kitchen duty. Some kind of special meeting was to take place that evening in the adjoining dining hall, and I had been asked to sweep the floor, dust tables and benches, clean window sills and decorate the large room with flowers. It was a hard task, the hall was enormous, the tables and benches so long and never-ending, but now I was nearing the end of the job. Only the flowers were missing. I would have to go and pick them, but they were my treat. I decided to first sweep the verandah around the dining hall before turning to my beloved flowers. There was still plenty of time. There I was, sweeping away, singing softly to myself. The dust whirled in front of my broom, the broom itself seemed to dance, and I felt happy. In school that morning everything had gone well, at home also.

All of a sudden there was a jingling sound behind me, very softly, and before I had time to turn around, a well known voice said, "Hello, Simone!"

I whirled. Heat rose through my whole body. There stood Daniel, right in front of me, laughing! It was his spurs that had jingled, and only ten metres away stood his sweaty horse. He had ridden in, dismounted, walked up to me, and I had never heard him! Here were his blue-grey eyes in front of me, sparkling, on my face. The heat on my cheeks grew deeper.

"What do you want! "I said defensively.

"Ach, only something to eat," he replied. "I have just come back from work. You are on duty, are you not? Can you get me some food?"

I dropped the broom and went into the kitchen. I was walking on clouds. I could not feel the ground. My legs didn't seem to belong to me. Somehow I found a plate of food, and outside there was Daniel, sitting at the rough wooden table under the lime tree, next to the old well. He smiled when I put the plate before him. Still, just then, his smile could have been for anything in the world. Because in the meantime, one of the men working in the kitchen had sat down next to Daniel and they were chatting away in a lively fashion.

After Daniel finished the meal, he got up, disappeared into the kitchen, then emerged again. He mounted his horse, rode past me, and saluted, touching the rim of his hat. I dared look only very quickly. He looked at me. He seemed serious.

Actually he doesn't see me, I thought. He sees only a foolish school girl who has kitchen duty and is sweeping the verandah of the dining hall.

I never saw him again.

When some years later I heard about his engagement to one of the girls in Wheathill, a girl only about three years older than me, I felt a strange choking pain.

That night, I stood for a long time at my bedroom window, watching the shooting stars fall They did not fall into my lap anymore. They were falling into the lap of another girl.

-------- Memories --------

Paraguay to Forest River to Oak Lake

by Margot Wegner Purcell

My family moved to Forest River in late November of 1956. We traveled from Isla Margarita, Primavera, to the Hutterite colony in North Dakota. I was nine years old when we made this trip. When we left, it was summer and our school had just let out for the summer break. We arrived in the middle of winter -- the first one for all of us children -- and right back into school. The decision for our family to move to North America had been made at least a year before we actually went. All of us children had been anxiously waiting for the day to arrive. We did not know where in the United States we were going until our move was ready. Several other families were also preparing to move to the United States.

Many evenings my sister Gisela, my brother Adolf and I would talk about our trip. Gisela was our storyteller, so she told us many times of our trip. We would have a love meal for our family and all of us would be able to attend (children did not usually attend evening meals at that time). The next morning everyone would gather around the wagon (sometimes we even got to go in the lorry ) and everyone would sing for us. The three of us would then sing the songs we wanted them to sing for us. "Einen goldnen Wanderstab" and "Kein Schoner Land in Dieser Zeit" were two of the songs. We would then travel to Rosario and take the boat to Asuncion. From there by plane to America. If Adolf and I were still awake, we would hear about our arrival at Woodcrest and greeting those we knew that lived there.

The story of our travels changed over the months we were waiting to go. Gisela was not thrilled when we asked her to tell us the story again each night, as most nights we would fall asleep well before we departed. Sometimes we would argue about the songs that would be sung. My parents spent a lot of time filling out papers and getting all the right forms ready. I remember asking many times where we would go. It seemed to take so very long. Since many would be moving to the USA, we were learning English in the school now.

Finally we were ready. We had a family birthday for my grandmother in October. I did not realize how long it would be before we were able to see her again. My cousins (Leslie and Elfriede Barron's family ) came from Loma Hoby. It must have been very difficult for the adults to say good-bye, but for us children, we just wanted to get on with our new adventure. Our farewell was not like what it had been in Gisela's story. We did all leave Isla together -- I don't recall the actual leave-taking. We went to Loma where our family separated. Mama, Adolf and I went by plane to Asuncion while Papa, Marlene, Helmut, Gisela and all our duffel bags and suitcases went by wagon to Rosario and then on to the capitol. In Loma, my father was asked to tell his life story at the farewell lunch.

I think we all have wonderful and varying memories of our plane trip. We were all dressed alike. The girls had identical flower- pattern summer dresses and the boys' shirts were made out of the same material. We traveled by prop planes via Braniff Airlines and stopped at every capital city on the way north to Miami, Florida. Then via Delta to Chicago, IL, and Northwest Orient Airlines to Grand Forks, ND. Most of the time we enjoyed our airplane ride except when we flew in the clouds, had much turbulence and became airsick. The entire trip took two days. Lots of fun for the children and probably quite draining on our parents.

Miami airport was just as I had expected all of America to be. Lots of toys in the shop windows. Airplane models hung from the ceiling in several locations. More candy and chocolate than we had ever dreamed of. We went through customs there. They unpacked all the carefully packed bags and searched through them. Poor Papa had trouble getting everything back in as well as he had packed them before.

Our first view of snow was at the Chicago Airport. When we landed, Papa pointed to a pile of snow that had been plowed away from the tarmac. It was very dirty but we did not care. We were eager to get out to see it and to eat it. Papa told us that when we got to Forest River there would be clean fresh snow that we could eat. We did at least get to feel it.

We arrived in Grand Forks around 9:00 P.M. and were met by Hardy and Sekunda (Martha) Arnold. This was one family we knew. We got to Forest River at 11:00 and were greeted by so many in the dining room. It was very cold and we were still in our lightweight clothes with sweaters. (I think Hardy and Sekunda had brought coats for us.) We were wearing our klepper (sandals) with socks as we had done during the winters in Paraguay. We did meet others who had once been in Paraguay, but most were Americans or Hutterites. The Trumpi family came a few weeks before or after we did. We were served supper while everyone watched us eat and sang some Christmas songs.

It was a clear cold night. We were taken to our new house, a small house that held just our family. A small entry way with a bathroom, dining room with a coal stove to heat the whole house, and four bedrooms. Two bedrooms were on the second floor and we climbed a flight of