girltalk Blog
2008 at 11:52 pm | by Nicole Whitacre
This tribute is for my great-grandmother, Mary Baho, and my great-great grandmother (whose name I do not remember)—two women I was never able to meet, but my life has been directly impacted by their faith, bravery, and strength.
Their story begins like this…my family is originally from Turkey, where my great-grandfather , Elias Baho, was a prominent businessman in his hometown of Marden. My great-great grandmother, great-grandmother, and my grandfather lived together, helping to run my great-grandfather’s business. During the early 1920’s, the Turks invaded their hometown taking many hostage and forcing them to either become Muslim or to die. My great-grandfather was captured and was able to send word to my grandmothers to take my young grandfather (then 12) and flee to America, for he had family that had already fled the country and were living in Massachusetts. My great-grandfather, I am proud to say, did not choose to become a Muslim…he chose Jesus instead and was beheaded before friends and family.
My grandmothers, fearful for their lives, fled their home in the night and traveled by every form of transportation possible to make it safely to America. During their travels, they took risks, not only as Christians but as women in a very male dominant culture…for example, my great-grandmother was hit with the barrel of a rifle protecting my grandfather from being harmed. Now, I don’t know all the details of their travels or how long it took them to arrive in America, but I do know that during their journey many prayers were spoken and they believed so much in their God that they were willing to risk their lives to gain freedom and safety. They left all they knew, all they had, and all they loved for the opportunity to freely worship.
Needless to say, they arrived safely in America, coming on a cargo ship through a New York City port. Upon arrival my great-grandmother, married Elias’ brother and raised 7 more children in a small town in Massachusetts to honor the legacy of her late husband (as was customary in their culture). My grandfather grew to become a small business owner in Fitchburg, MA, went back to the Middle East when he was in his late 30’s, met my grandmother and married. They raised five children in America, their firstborn being my mother, and were blessed with 12 grandchildren.
As a child I was told this story by my grandmother and mother. I learned such a valuable lesson about generational prayer and the legacy I will leave for my children and future grandchildren. My great-grandmothers must have prayed for their travels not to be in vain, for their bravery and faith to carry over for many generations to come, and for the legacy of my great-grandfather never to be forgotten.
Unfortunately, many of my aunts, uncles, and cousins do not know Jesus as their Lord and Savior despite the great sacrifices their family made for them to be born and raised in a country where they are free to worship. I used to look at my family and be so upset about their unbelief, but I realized that not all hope is lost…God has placed me in this family to be an intercessor and light for the rest of my family. I can pray, just as my great-grandmothers prayed, that seeds would be planted and their heritage remembered. I can also pray for my children (one who is 16 months old and the other who will be born in late October) that they would grow in the Lord and never forget the great sacrifice He made on their behalf. I can pray that they will share His love with their children and their children’s children.
Had it not been for my brave great-grandmothers and great-grandfather, I would not be here today. I praise God for my heritage and pray that I may leave a legacy that blesses Him, and Him alone.
In Him,
Laura Grove
2008 at 5:25 pm | by Nicole Whitacre
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
A letter to you, Grandmama
Dear Grandmama,
In the few days after your passing I have been reminded of all of the great memories I shared with you. You were such a wonderful Grandmother, one of strength, courage and kindness. Most of my memories stem from summer days at your and Grandaddy’s house. The days filled with playtime, tomato sandwiches, sweet tea and Nabisco cookies and nights filled with porch stories, cartwheels, dirty little feet and lots of “watch me Grandmama” in your backyard. Walks around the yard and in the garden, corn, peas and blueberries. Roses were your favorite, but your knowledge of flowers was so great from all of your years of experience. I love to listen to you and Mama talk flowers while we were walking the “grounds” of the Harris compound. I remember the Saturday morning breakfast and how different they were from Sunday mornings. We all had our spot at the table and Granddaddy and you had the big barrel glasses with handles and I got the the small jar juice glass. It was my job especially as I got older to wipe the table and get the milk out of the old small fridge off the back porch while you cooked. Watch-in the braves games at night with “microwave popcorn” (this was a big deal remember?) as a snack and then running to the back porch to see the fireworks display all the way from Six Flags - that was fun.
Camping and fish fry were always the best, home-made ice cream, pound cakes and trips in the motor home. In middle school we went out west, way out, to the Rockies and to Palo Duro canyon in Texas and if I remember correctly you were the only one who believed me and gave me sympathy when I was attacked by the swarm of horse fly while playing in the canyon riverbed. Your comfort was so maternal and strong with a hug and a pat everything with the world was right again.
Your memory and strategic way of remembering people and relations was amazing. So many times you would bring newspaper clippings and stories of people and places to me and give me a running from birth to death history of a certain person and how they tied in with the Harris family. So may times I took for granted the skill that you possessed. It truly was a talent. You cared for friends and family so deeply.
I loved to hear you giggle or chuckle, you would put you fist to your lips and laugh so that sometime it was hard to understand what you were trying to say because you were laughing so hard. But I hated to see you cry, you nose would turn pink and how sad it was to see you distressed and shed tears, Mama has this quality too. You both could never hide when you had been crying - it was always written all over you face.
Oh how I admired you devotion and love for Granddaddy, you both were like peas and carrots- just like Jenny and Forrest. It was hard to imagine you alone after Granddad passed - it was like part of you had died. But your strength carried you forward like the lady-of-grace every one knew you as and you persevered. Who knew that you would be married almost 60 years, what a blessing your devotion was to my life.
Most of all I will remember how you loved me and how much you wanted to hear from me. Those yearnings to know how I was and the interest you had in my life made the biggest impression on me.
But the greatest gift you every gave me is my own mother. The daughter you raised became the mother I adore and for that I thank you.
Good bye for now - but not for too long. For I will see you again soon.
Love always
your youngest granddaughter.
Tiffany
2008 at 3:34 pm | by Nicole Whitacre
I can’t imagine any grandmother more worthy of the ‘GirlTalk’ blog tribute to grandmothers than my Granny! I want to honor her for demonstrating biblical womanhood throughout her life in the way she served her husband and her family including my Dad! I also want to honor her for her constant joy in the midst of many trials.
She is an EXCELLENT cook!! I can remember countless meals that she created for our family. We looked like a Norman Rockwell painting as we sat around her table, eating fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, peanut beans, and homemade apple pie. Spending the night at Granny’s farm, meant waking up to fried eggs, sausage, bacon, and biscuits. She would cook a meal for seven, and then clean up after us and she never had a dishwasher!She would do this joyfully!! I have never heard Granny complain about any household chore.
Now, Granny is almost 88 years old. In her life she has endured many trials including the loss of her Mom, Dad, brother, sister, and husband. At 88, she constantly battles many health problems and yet, when I
commend her for her joy she says something like “I have had a very easy life, wouldn’t it be sad if I wasn’t joyful?” Granny lost her husband nineteen years ago. Two years ago, she got a cold which turned into double pneumonia. We weren’t sure she was going to get better. I remember Mom and Dad taking my little brother and I to the hospital and trying to explain that “Granny looks very bad”. But God had mercy on her! She recovered and seemed to be doing better than ever.
Last year, while my family and I were on vacation, she fell and broke her hip. She was rushed to the ER and had to have hip replacement surgery. The doctors could not believe how well the surgery went. God loves Granny! Thank the Lord for allowing her to be able to walk again!
During her time in the hospital she never complained about how much pain she was in. Every time we went to see her she would thank us for coming and tell us how kind we were to visit her! Granny seems to be losing her mobility. She has aches and pains she didn’t have before and her memory continues to fade. But she often remarks about how other people are doing and recognizes how well she is doing in comparison.
She is an example to me, my mom, and my sister-in-law. We all hope that one day we can be just like her. My Granny will be a great-grandma in August and I can’t wait to see her example passed on to little Laurel Anne. I am thankful for my granny and hope to some day I can follow her example of biblical womanhood.
Lauren Kittrell
2008 at 11:49 am | by Nicole Whitacre
My grandma’s name was Elizabeth, but everyone - except my grandpa - called her Libby. The rest of us often called her “Little Grandma” - she was our family “measuring stick”. At 5 feet tall (and just 100 lbs.), all the grandkids longed for the day that we would be taller than Grandma.
She lived on the farm next door to my family, and my brother and sister and I spent most of our summer days playing there on the farm. Grandma was always ready with lunch or a 
snack when needed. My grandma never drove a car due to health reasons, so she was nearly always at home. There was little doubt that Grandma would be there, often whistling away as she worked. If she wasn’t busy working at something, we usually found her seated on the sofa in the kitchen (yes, the kitchen!), head bent…poring over her blue-leather Bible.
I had for so long looked forward to the day when I turned 16 and could get my driver’s license and I could drive Grandma wherever she needed to go. But that day never came as she suddenly became ill and died a few weeks before my sixteenth birthday.
After Grandma passed into glory, some of her possessions were distributed to family members who wanted them. No one had asked for her Bible, so I dared to ask my grandfather if I could have it. Of all her “things,” that’s what meant the most to me…all of the passages she had underlined…all of the notes she had written in the margins. My grandpa willingly gave it to me, and I’m so glad that’s what I have to remember her by. It reminds me of those afternoons when we’d race into the kitchen and find her there faithfully reading and studying God’s Word, steadfast to the end.
Christy Straub
2008 at 12:53 am | by Nicole Whitacre
Our Nana
God gave us a special Nana,
Nana has cared for us since the day we were born,
My brothers, sisters, and I.
She loves to sing us songs that rhyme,
And kiss our cheeks when we cry.
She blesses us in many ways but just name a few,
She helps my Mom Home School my brother,
Now he can add the 2’s!
She watches us for Dad and Mom
So they can go to meetings,
She watches us a lot you see,
And always gives a cheerful greeting!
We love to spend time with her,
Doing special things,
Surprise! She takes us shopping
Or for yummy ice cream!
She took us to Disney World
And that was fun to see,
She even rode the roller coasters,
and screamed together did we!
She faithfully teaches about the Lord,
And corrects us with Christ’s love.
She helps us to become more like Him,
Encourages us when times are tough.
Nana’s heart is filled with love,
It would be right to honor,
She always gives her love and time,
In ways we will remember.
These treasured memories are purely gifts,
Which are given by her so freely,
It is God’s kindness and His love that,
Shines through her so clearly!
We thank you Nana
and hope you’re blessed,
As we honor you today,
We are so thankful for you,
Be blessed on this Mother’s Day!!!
By Kayla
2008 at 2:16 pm | by Nicole Whitacre
My Grandmother was what is often referred to as a “wartime bride.” Her story is quite an unusual one. My grandmother, Margaret Miln, was born in Scotland. She grew up during World War Two, and eventually joined the Royal Air Force as a cook. Sometime during the war she took a train trip. Something so small as a train trip changed her life forever. You see, my grandfather, Milford Christian was in England, with the American Air Force. He was in a country much different from his own, and asked this young girl where the dining car was. My grandma laughed and informed him that we were in the middle of a war and there was no dining car. Not wanting to be rude, she offered to share her lunch with them. At the end of their trip they parted ways, and she told him to look her up if he was ever in Scotland. Sometime later when she was out, her brothers came running to get her, saying that some “Yank” was asking for her. The rest was history.
Their story was only beginning. After the war my grandma came to America with their new daughter, “wee Margaret.” They were not immediately allowed into the country because of sickness, and spent some time at Ellis Island. Six years later, my next aunt was born, and then six years later my mum! My Grandma was the cutest little grandma ever. She was so petite, and was always saying the cutest things. She had a saying for every color, but the only one I can remember is pink. “Pink pink to make the boys wink!” I will always remember her daily pot of tea and her flavored kisses. “This one is chocolate, and this one is vanilla, and this one is strawberry…”
When I was eleven or twelve my grandmother began having a lot of health problems. Most of the family went to be with her during this time. I’ll never forget all the family being in her hospital room shortly before the doctors took her away to do tests. We were all praying, each one of us asking God to heal her, and give the doctors wisdom. My grandma, wiser than us all, looked at each one of us and simply prayed that God’s will be done. She had no will of her own, and was committing her life into His hands. A short time later we got the news that it was in fact cancer. She was scheduled to have surgery in a few weeks, and recovery would begin. Three weeks later a call came saying that my darling Grandma had died quite suddenly. I know that I when I get to Heaven, one of the first people I see will be my grandma. I’m sure she will hug me and kiss me and say “that one was vanilla.”
I will never forget my dear Grandma. I didn’t say goodbye to her the last time I saw her. I thought that I would have many more chances to say goodbye. The two things I learned the most from my Grandma were gentleness and faithfulness. Grandma was as tender as they came. She was always so caring to her grandchildren, and attentive to everyone’s needs. My grandma was also so faithful. She loved her friends and family so much. She was married to my Pappa for over fifty years. They were one heart and one soul. She was a beautiful example of a Proverbs 31 woman who’s “price is far above rubies.”
Rebekah
2008 at 11:25 am | by Nicole Whitacre
Dear Granny,
I should have done this years ago, but here I am, finally sitting
down to tell you why you mean so much to me. There is no way I can
write it all out, but I’ll try my best.
For most of my growing up years I’ve lived hundreds of miles away
from you, and yet you have always been such an important part of my
life. I have so many memories of going to your house…your radiant
smile and big hug as we walk in the door, and the delicious smell of
fresh banana bread. Your home has always been our ‘home away from
home’.
You are such a special person (I’m stealing your phrase!) and every
part of your life shines of your love for the Lord. You manifest His
love in so many ways. You show it in the way you…
Care. You have more friends than anyone I know, Granny! You reach
out to those in nursing homes who need attention, to the lonely
shut-ins, to those who need a listening ear. I remember going with you
when you were visiting someone in a nursing home. You knew everyone
there, and took the time to pat them on the arm, ask how they were, and
give them a smile. Everyone confides in you, knowing you’ll pray for
them. You have taken countless meals to families, made ‘sunshine
baskets’, and sent thoughtful cards. You are such a caring person.
Laugh. You make this unfriendly world a better place with your joy.
I love to hear you get tickled over something - your laughter is
contagious! You have achieved something few people have, and that’s the
ability to laugh over mistakes, to find humor in each day, and to keep
a cheerful spirit. What a sunny smile you have. I know you haven’t had
an easy life - you were widowed when your three sons were only young
adults, you had to support yourself, and care for relatives who at
times were very difficult people.
And yet you have always had such a
cheerful outlook on life! My favorite memories are of us girls and you
giggling together, usually when we aren’t supposed to be!
Love. I have never met anyone with such love and compassion as you,
Granny. For years you worked in a daycare, pouring out love to
children who needed it so badly. Children from broken homes who longed
for love, and you gave it to them. You told them Bible stories, held
them on your lap, gave hugs, read stories, not to mention the hundreds
of diapers you changed, and noses blown. You have touched countless
lives with your love.
It was always so much fun to have you spend two whole weeks at our
house. You spent time with us kids, doing ‘Granny egg hunts’, and
playing the piano while we gathered around and sang. The daily chores
suddenly became fun when you helped fold laundry, wash dishes, and set
the table.
Finally, you show God’s love in the way you live. You have given me
a shining example of what it means to truly follow God, trusting Him in
everything. Even now as you battle cancer, you are holding strong to
the Lord. Your complete trust in Him is so inspiring to me. You have
accepted your cancer without fear, and the pain without complaining.
You continue to be a joy to be around.
Thank you, Granny, for all you do and for all you are. I love you very much.
Love, your granddaughter,
Betsy
2008 at 2:23 pm | by Nicole Whitacre
It is so encouraging to me to remember my grandma, and what an impact this quiet, gentle woman had on my life. I saw my grandmother for only a week each year during my childhood and adolescence, and yet she was the one God used to inspire me to want to be a wife, mother, and homemaker. Grandma was very shy and reserved - she never had deep conversations with me, or gave out profound wisdom. All she did was to live out the quiet and loving life of a faithful wife and mother. Most books written today about having an influence on others would make the assumption that a life like hers wouldn’t have much bearing on anyone, but I can tell you that my husband and eight children know differently.
I think that one of the secrets to Grandma’s blessing and inspiration on my life lies in her contentment. I have never met anyone so content. My grandma didn’t long to have new clothes, a new car, a nice house, better furniture, or any other earthly things. She raised four children on the small salary her husband brought home as a factory worker in an oil refinery. They had a tiny two-bedroom house, with one small bathroom, a very small living room, and a small kitchen. She never added on to the original house, never replaced so much as a lamp or a telephone (she kept her old metal black table top phone for about 50 years). I saw her in the same sweet “house-dresses” year after year. Grandma carried the same “pocketbook” as she called her purse, until it wore out, then replaced it with another large plain black bag. But I thought my grandma’s house was the most wonderful place to be, and I so wanted to be like her.
I remember Grandma using her kitchen table as a work surface to prepare our meals when we came to visit. There were no counter tops or other work areas in her tiny kitchen. Grandma would work quickly and cheerfully to make supper for all of us (her three adult unmarried children still lived with her, so that made ten of us for meals when we visited). She made her delicious meals from scratch, and one of my fondest memories is of watching her roll out and cut homemade noodles on the kitchen table. She made biscuits, mashed potatoes, roast and homemade gravy . . . you name it, she made it - all on that one little table. She would quickly clear the table as the food cooked, and my unmarried aunt would set the table and rinse some dishes in the shallow enamel sink. After we ate, the dishes were washed and rinsed in two big metal bowls set on that same table. The dishes were set around the perimeter of the table as they were dried, then carried to the cupboards in the lean-to. Most women today would consider that routine to be totally unacceptable, but my grandma never gave it a moment’s thought that I know of - except to tell her grown sons that she didn’t want a new kitchen, she liked her old one just the way it was.
Another favorite memory I have is of standing beside Grandma in the back yard, handing her clothespins as she hung out her laundry on lines held up by large metal poles. Grandma would smile at me as I handed her another pin, or took clothes from the basket for her. She didn’t talk to me much at all, yet that’s all it took for me to develop a life-long love of hanging wash on the line! Grandma used a wringer washer in her basement until she was in her eighties, when her sons finally prevailed upon her to accept an automatic washer and dryer. She used the dryer only in the winter, though, and still went up and down those steps (the old, dangerous type with no backs to them!) until she was in her nineties.
Grandma became a widow at 43. My mother had married six months before my grandfather’s death, but Grandma needed to support two children who were in high school as well as her youngest son, who was only seven years old. Everyone urged her to get a job at the nearby factory, but Grandma refused. “I was home with the rest, and I’m going to be home for Larry,” she insisted. So Grandma took the hard road - she took in washing and ironing, just as she had seen her mother do before her, when her mother had been widowed at an early age with five children to support alone. Grandma also cleaned houses during the day when her children were in school, but she was home by the time school was out. On this meager living, she raised those three, and they never forgot the debt of love they owed her. And two of them ended up owing her a huge debt of love indeed. They became invalids as adults, and she cared for them, alone, until they died - both in their sixties, she almost 90.
The sweetest story about my grandmother is the unplanned tribute my husband overheard her youngest son give at her burial. My uncle didn’t know anyone was listening, but I cry every time I think of it. Grandma was almost 96 when she died, and those last few months she had been feeble. Uncle Larry was retired by then, and he had cared for her around the clock. When we were leaving the grave site, the funeral director offered each family member a crimson rose from the huge spray on her casket. Uncle Larry was the last to leave, and my husband waited for him at the edge of the tent. “Would you like a rose?” the kind director asked my uncle. Uncle Larry hesitated a moment, then shook his head.
“No,” he smiled gently. “She was my rose.”
—Contributed by a grateful granddaughter, Susie Castleberry
2008 at 12:58 pm | by Nicole Whitacre
It is “Tribute Week” here at girl talk, and we are honoring grandmothers. Over the next five days we will honor sixteen women. We wish we could have posted all of the tributes we received, and we know these women represent countless more grandmothers and great-grandmothers deserving of honor.
Our modern culture would consider these women nostalgic figures of a by-gone era—women to remember fondly but not to aspire to imitate. They represent everything the feminist movement sought to leave behind: the priority of home and family.
Yet, it is that simple, steadfast love of home and family that made such a deep and lasting impression on their grandchildren. It was their peace and joy and faithfulness (and not their drive or intelligence or success) that marked their descendants for life. It sounds prosaic to our culture, but a delicious meal made with love, the fragrance of a clean and orderly home, a lesson in domestic duty, a hug, a smile, their strong abiding faith in Christ, their simply being there is what comforted, encouraged and ultimately inspired their grandchildren.
These stories, while simple, are striking lessons in biblical womanhood; each one a polished portrait of a life well spent. Their lives and experiences (with one or two notable exceptions) were quiet and ordinary. Read carefully though, and you will see the effect of a woman’s sacrifice extending from generation to generation. You will find a pattern to follow for your own life.
We hope these tributes will instruct and inspire all of us to pass on a legacy of biblical womanhood for the glory of Christ.
My husband sent me these pictures which he got from a friend. “Circle all the ones you’ve done and put a check next to the ones you’ve thought about doing…” his friend told him. No circles for Steve fortunately, but he admitted that maybe a check mark or two was in order….
Join us next week as we honor grandmothers for Mother’s Day.
Nicole for the girltalkers
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This tribute is for my great-grandmother, Mary Baho, and my great-great grandmother (whose name I do not remember)—two women I was never able to meet, but my life has been directly impacted by their faith, bravery, and strength. 
