Ken Wolgemuth’s Tribute

It’s scarcely possible for me to believe that I am standing here today giving a tribute to my mother. She has been with me all of my life, and it’s hard to believe that she is not sitting out there right there beside you in the church that she loved so much. Nevertheless, I know that on another level, a much higher level, she is still with me today. There is so much that I could tell you about mom, but I will just highlight a few of my own memories. She loved wildlife of all kind, but especially birds, deer, dogs, ducks, birds of all kinds. As a four or five year old in Waynesboro, PA, she took me out on our second story porch to show me a nest that a mother robin had built on a ledge over the door. Ducks frequently built nests in mom’s garden and she doted on those eggs and the young that hatched.

We kept progress on those eggs by dad lifting us up to look into the nests when he got home from work. The baby robins one by one left their nest and mom knew about each one. When mom and dad lived on the DuPage river at Emerald Green, I remember mom taking me proudly to a nest of mallard ducks that she protected by the walk leading into their home.

Birds were her joy in her later years and she loved showing me each one that came to her birdfeeders. She loved her finches and wrens especially and she instilled in me a love for birds and wildlife and nature.

Mom inspired me to pursue the arts. She encouraged me in my piano lessons. When I was seven, our family moved to Japan to be missionaries for Youth for Christ. Within months, mom had learned to know older women in our neighborhood who became like grandma figures. These women became her mentors in Japanese art. I’m sure it was part of mom and dad’s desire to embrace the Japanese people and their culture, so mom soon was soon learning the art of the Japanese Tea ceremony. She took me to my first Japanese flower arranging class, and learned the art of Bonseki, sifting different grades of white sand onto black lacquer trays and using feathers, created scenes of Mt. Fuji on these trays. She also encouraged me to learn the art of Bonsai and admired and appreciated my little trees as no one else. Because of her example, she virtually crafted my own appreciation for the arts.

Any one who know mom, knew of her passion for singing. I grew up thinking that there was no one else who had as beautiful a soprano voice as she had. And yet she used to say, “when I get to heaven, I am going to be able to sing higher and higher like the angels can.”

Because of her example, she inspired me to exceed my own comfort zone. After we came home from Japan, we moved to Wheaton Illinois and dad used to travel for weeks and sometimes a month at a time. There was a little Brethren In Christ mission on South Halsted Street that mom and dad used to take us to sing and minister, pastored by brother Carl and Avis Carlson. Dad would usually always speak, however there were times when he would be ministering overseas and so mom would drive us downtown, definitely exceeding her comfort zone, and we would sing as a family to the folks gathered there in the little chapel. Danny and Debbie were babies at the time and we would sing as a family, and then mom would speak to the congregation. I can still vividly feel her trembling hands on my shoulders while she spoke. The people saw her radiant face as she spoke to them, but we felt her loving hands on our shoulders reassuring our fears as she spoke.

One vivid memory of her strong faith occurred in 1974 when I personally witnessed her steadfast reliance on God. An enormous late August thunderstorm hit Wheaton. I lived across town with my wife Sharon and 3 year old Kristin and 1 year old Katy. This storm was not like most. It didn’t seem to let up after twenty or thirty minutes. Instead it got steadily worse. Dad was in California on YFC business and my brother Dan and Deb had just gone back to Taylor to start their sophomore year. Mom called on the telephone and said rather nervously that water was filling up the intersection of Main and Park beside our yard, and had reached the house and could I come over and help her. After a quick check of my dry basement, I speeded across town to the red brick split level where I grew up. The unrelenting rain made Park avenue a flowing river and mom and I helplessly watched the water enter our house through the garage and cascade down the steps like a waterfall and fill up our lower level.

Suddenly our neighbor burst through the front door and ordered us to evacuate the house. As he stood there in the entry, Mom looked up to the sky and prayed out loud in a firm and commanding voice, “Precious Heavenly Father, I love you very much… STOP THIS RAIN!”

Immediately the sky brightened, and in a few minutes the rain stopped, before our neighbor had a chance to even leave our living room. I can still see his mouth drop open and say, “You are one amaaaaazing woman!” Mom truly relied on God as no one I know.

Yes, Grace Wolgemuth was truly Amazing Grace and her loving, trusting example will lead me forever. I will always be inspired by her. Her prayers for me and my family will always inspire us. And our thoughts of her singing higher and higher in the heavenly chorus will cause us to look forward with eager anticipation of joining her and dad, and my son in law Ray in that place where there will be no end to the singing and rejoicing.

– Ken Wolgemuth, Son
Friday, March 26, 2010