Wet-Bottom (We Don't Mean Diapers)

We recently visited Elizabeth's Grandmother Hamill in Lancaster County, PA (aka "Amish Country"), where Will met his great-grandmother for the first time. On the visit, Granddad Sam reported, "While very good-natured by her very nature, Grace Hamill, 94, of Tel Hai Retirement Community is known for her composure. But even she brightly beamed with love and joy on Friday, October 9 when her children, grandchildren, great-grand child, son-in-law, and granddaughter-in-law gathered for lunch, conversation, hugs, kisses and what-have-you-been-up-to-latelies in the Friendship Café at this Mennonite-sponsored non-profit for the elderly nestled between two dairy farms owned by two Amish families, both with the name of Stolzfus."

Grandmom has Alzheimer's, so while she recalls that she has grandchildren, she doesn't recognize us anymore. That didn't stop her from displaying her trademark blend of polite wittiness. For example, after reintroducing Elizabeth, Aunt Tina introduced Will as "Elizabeth's baby." Surveying the room with a twinkle in her eye, Grandmom remarked, eyebrows raised expectantly, "Well, he's somebody else's baby, too!" We promptly reintroduced Jason.

After a feast of make-your-own sandwiches with just about the widest variety of fixin's we've ever seen courtesy of Aunt Tina and Uncle Bob, we all enjoyed pumpkin and Shoo-Fly Pie thanks to the "pie-man," Uncle Bob. Shoo-Fly Pie is worthy of its own post, but this is a blog about Will and not about pie. So we'll just say that should you ever find yourself in Lancaster County, do not leave without sampling a piece of Shoo-Fly Pie. We strongly prefer wet-bottom style.

Granddad Sam also noted that the visit culminated with a (surprisingly on key) version of Let the Lower Lights Be Burning, "the eponymous hymn of the Lower family (as in Grace Lower prior to the advent of Messrs. Heffner and then Hamill) [they always rhymed 'Lower' with 'flower,' like their last name]. And who else but the highly literate Betsy would wonder why they were dubbed the 'lower lights.'" I might add, what other family would know the answer without having to look it up?

Actually, while Mom digresses, the history of the song from the link above is worth posting in full here, especially when as a parent, it's sometimes hard to keep the lower lights (let alone the lighthouse!) burning:

This famous hymn was written by Philip Bliss over a century ago. He was inspired by a sermon he heard while living in Chicago. In that sermon, the preacher talked about a ship that was trying to find Cleveland harbor in the midst of a storm at night.

The captain could see the lighthouse. As he drew near, he shouted to the lighthouse keeper, "Is this Cleveland?" The lighthouse keeper shouted back, "Quite true, sir." The captain asked, "Where are the lower lights?" The lighthouse keeper said, "They have gone out. Can you make the harbor?" The captain replied, "We must, or we will perish!"

With that he sailed his ship into the harbor, passed the lighthouse, missed the channel, and was dashed against the rocks. It was a terrible tragedy. Many people were killed.

The preacher brought that story home with these words. He said, "Brothers and sisters, the Master will take care of the lighthouse. Let us keep the lower lights burning."

I was never sure what "lower lights" were. I thought many times about the phrase in the hymn, "Let the lower lights be burning." Well, the lower lights are the lights away from the lighthouse that illumine the water line. They're the various lights from our windows that enable vessels to come into the harbor at night, through a narrow channel of the harbor's mouth.

Do you shine a light for the world to see?