Preservings $20 Issue No. 26, 2006 - Home at Plett Foundation

Old Colony Mennonites departing to Mexico from the Hague train station in the 1920s. Photo credit: Leonard
Doell.
nally we climbed onto a large hill. There stood
a huge wireless station, (Funtenstation). Close
to the station stood a high tower one-hundredand-forty-nine
feet high. It was in operation.
We then went down the hill towards town, and
a light rain fell.
We went back to our quarters, but Uncle
Johan Wiebe went downtown. Because of the
rain, he went into a private home and soon
noticed his money pouch missing. Shocked
he returned and told us. He wanted to report it
to the police, so Daniel Solis Lopez went with
him. Shortly, he returned with the police, and
we were to identify him, by saying that we
knew Mr. Johan Wiebe and all was in order.
In the meantime they caught the thief, and Mr.
Wiebe got his wallet back, however ten dollars
was missing from the twenty-five dollars he
had lost. This happens in Mexico and I will
talk more about this later.
We had to stay another night in this town
because of the train schedule. We got up early
on February 10 th , and left again by train travelling
south. Again it was a warm day. This train
had eight passenger cars and many freight
cars. It was the southern train that travels on
Mexico’s west side from Mogales to Ruis. As
far as this railway goes we can use USA dollars,
because the train belongs to the United
States. We arrived safely at 9:00 p.m. in Ruis.
We had travelled close to the ocean in some
places, with water on either side and farther
back through the hills and forests we met small
rivers that had no bridges. Down under it was
cemented and we got quite a jolt, but this was
nothing new in Mexico.
Arriving in the evening we had to find
quarters, but the hotels were terrible, with
small cafes and open on one side. After supper
a place had to be found to sleep. Some of us
slept on a wagon and some of us slept in the
café. They brought us some beds and bedding
and we made the best of it. The next morning
we again went out to look for some land, and
soon came to a city called Tudspoon. One
hundred and thirty thousand acres of land was
close by. It was cleared and had a few huge
trees and some seeded grass.
This is February 11, it is eighty-nine degrees
fahrenheit, and fairly hot. Uncle Cornelius
Rempel was getting sick. He got out and
rested, the Mexican got upset for he wanted to
get us to the train station as planned. I showed
him my watch and using sign language asked
him when the train was leaving, he indicated at
12 p.m. So I told him, lets hurry. The Mexican
pointed to Mr. Rempel, who was again sitting
down, and shook his head. I told our group that
we must hurry or else we will miss the train,
for we had been told that our departure was at
noon. Uncle Klaas Heide said he would take
uncle Cornelius Rempel on his mule in front
of him, and would help him. Uncle Cornelius
Rempel said he could go no further. Uncle
Klaas Heide told him even if we couldn’t
go further we must still go on, and he would
stay to help him. Our mules were very smart,
knowing that we were not good riders, so they
were very lazy.
Because we travelled so slowly, Solis and
the Mexican decided to send a telegram to the
train station, asking them to wait until we came.
Our guide told us approximately where to ride,
and guided us around a mountain through
lots of stones, going steeply upwards, and
sometimes through deep ruts, so deep that our
luggage hit hard against the stones and broke.
When we reached the top, our mules were wet.
It had been very hard for them.
The guide spurred his mule and left us,
and we saw how mules can run when they
have to, for the telegram had to be delivered
fast. Slowly we travelled without our guide,
but we couldn’t be slow. Then we saw the
mountain where at the bottom lay the town
where we were to catch our train. We couldn’t
see our guide for he was far ahead of us, and
the city came closer, or rather, we came closer
to the city. We looked forward to leaving our
mules. Both men and beasts were tired. We
came closer and closer to the city and finally
we saw it. How joyful we all were. The words
of a poet entered the mind of a humble servant
(myself), and I recalled “Ye hills and valleys
help me to sing, my Jesus to him be praise, that
though so many humble days I so far have been
protected. Have a good night, it is high time
for me to leave the past.”
As we neared the city it was too bad we
didn’t stay together. We rode two by two together.
As we entered the city on very narrow
streets, we got lost. Two others had gone ahead
of us. When my partner and I came to a big
house, we saw the grey donkey the telegram
carrier had rode in on, but no one was on it. We
dismounted and very soon there were helpful
people, wanting to feed our mules, and suddenly
the guide appeared and told us to hurry
to the train station. It meant, getting back on
our donkeys, and with our guide giving us
directions in a big hurry. He went back to find
our other members.
We didn’t really know where to go, for we
couldn’t see the city. Then, south of us, we saw
a small train moving back and forth behind a
house. We thought this must be the station. But
where were our partners? The Mexican, our
guide, and Solis came from another direction.
All the uncles except two were here now. They
had taken a wrong road. I stood beside the train,
which was now ready to leave, and I could see
the others coming. They slowly came down the
same road we had come as if they were not sure
which road to take. I whistled and waved my
cap and told the others.
We were all glad, and Solis was preparing
our free tickets, but our partners had not arrived.
I again went outside and stood beside the
people, whistled and waved my cap, until they
saw me and hurried. The baggage was quickly
unstrapped from the donkeys, and we boarded
and had our luggage handed to us through the
trains windows. We departed at twelve noon.
And so through God’s help, we had come
through the huge mountains. His ways we cannot
grasp. We were often on the edges of deep
cliffs and had our donkeys made a mistake, we
would have fallen into the deep down yonder.
But our donkeys were used to climbing, but
to us it seemed impossible. Often I turned my
head the other way.
God’s grace kept us from all harm. To Him
we give praise and thanks until all eternity. In
heaven we want to forever sing hallelujah, but
in this troublesome world we are among the
heavily burdened pilgrims, and we are often
troubled by not knowing if we’ll be able to
climb the mountains in life. We have to continue
climbing, even though the mountains are
high, mount Zion from where all help comes is
much higher. How often have I recalled those
times when we travelled together, I especially
thought of Uncle Cornelius Rempel who often
took a rest, quiet and contented, when the rest
of us were more restless.
Preservings No. 26, 2006 - 41