Carrie Kindy Memories:
It was September 6, 1877 that I arrived at the Yost Schrock home. A perfect stranger. In due time I decided it was a very nice place to be.
The house was large and in a setting of trees. To reach it, it was necessary to go by way of a lane, so the house was near the center of a 160 acre farm.
The house was large enough for tow families. In the south rooms, I soon learned, was where I was to live with a lovely father and mother, Eli and Nancy Ann Schrock. There was a door that divided it from the other side of the house in which lived Grandma and Grandpa Schrock. Also an uncle and some aunties. I didn't realize then how lucky I was, but years later I found out I was very fortunate to get my start in such wholesome surroundings, for the occupants of this home were deeply religious people. My grandparents used the German language a great deal, although my mother never learned it. I vividly remember my grandfather's prayers in German as he said grace at meals and at their family worship.
I remember grandma as a woman of poise, and Christian character. Her home was well kept and a place where anyone could feel welcome in it's hospitality and enjoy her good meals. My grandfather also was a man of Christian make up and on the jolly side. He also loved to sing.
His farm was a specimen of neatness and good management. there seemed to always be an abundance of good food, fruits of all sorts. I have a faint recollection of the outdoor oven in which the baking was done. I seem to remember them bringing out of it loaves of bread and pies with a long handled paddle.
I recall the milk house. Made of stone and very cool in the summer. Also the milk trough which the cold water was sent by the windmill. In this milk trough was milk, pickles, a jar of fried cheese and many other tasty things, for this was grandma's refrigerator.
I remember the family organ on which Aunts Clara (Schrock-Zimmerman), Nanny (Nancy Schrock-Priser) and Sarah (Schrock), <sister of Yost Schrock>, played and sang. Uncle Will (William Schrock) was also a fine singer. One song still rings in my ears: "There is nothing on earth that will stay, Roses must die with the years". This has often presented itself when I think of the frailty of our lives and how sure we are not here to stay.
This was my home for 3 1/2 years.
Mary Post Warren
© copyright 2011, all rights reserved, Mary Post Warren