(Introductory notes: The Anna described in the first paragraph, being Kathrina Franz Olfert’s sister, was also the sister of Grandma Agatha Franz Toews. Grandma Toews never told me this story! I decided to include no pictures with this post. The account of the testimonies of the Olfert children bears its own weight. All four of the offspring whose testimonies are mentioned here have since passed into eternity.)
In 1918 one of the first weddings in the community (there had been a wedding at Volt in 1917) was when Kathrina’s sister Anna came to us and asked if she and Cornelius Funk (who taught at the Lustre School) could borrow the buggy to go visit. I said yes, anything they wanted, so off they went. (Anna was staying with D. M.’s to help Kathrina, as Elsie had just been born and she was also teaching DVBS.) As they left the yard, I remarked that something was afoot and not right. When the couple got back that evening, they confessed that they had not gone visiting, but had gone to Larslan where there was a preacher that had married them. The new couple went to stay on C. H.’s homestead that had a barn, and they slept in the hay and started life together. Anna also had a homestead northeast of our place, but she seldom had stayed there, as the shack was very small and not equipped. The community gave them a big chivaree and had many gifts. Anna and Cornelius farmed in Lustre for two years, then in 1922 went to China as missionaries.
Linda remembers that on December 24, 1939, the family celebrated Christmas and closed it with the reading of the Christmas story and each one leading in prayer. Linda was under great conviction by the Holy Spirit, and managed to hurry through her memorized prayer. As soon as everyone finished, she hurried to the kitchen where it was semi-dark, and sat down to weep as if her heart would break. Kathrina soon discovered her and asked what was troubling her. She shared her burden of being sure she would remain alone while the rest of the family would be caught up to meet the Lord in the air when He came. Kathrina replied, “Oh, we can quickly take care of that,” and immediately called the whole family to the dark kitchen, where they all knelt around her and began praying for her, one by one. When it was her turn, she felt they had prayed her into salvation, and all she could say was, “Thank you for forgiving my sins.”
Elvin’s conversion story is similar. One evening after supper Kathrina asked him to help her do the dishes while the girls played the piano. This way the two of them could be alone in the kitchen. As they washed the dishes she talked to him about his need for salvation, and he accepted the Lord.
After special revival meetings at church, Marilyn went home with conviction on her heart. Upstairs in her room she prayed and accepted the Lord into her heart. She was so happy that she went downstairs and told her mother, and they prayed together.
For Ethel it was during a two-week evangelistic crusade in the church, conducted by Alvin Ysker and Arthur Flaming, that she came under growing conviction of sin. She writes, “After a long day of shopping in Glasgow near the end of the crusade, I convinced Mother that I was too tired to go to the meeting. To be honest, I wanted to avoid the convicting Holy Spirit. To my dismay, I overheard Linda telling Mother the next morning of all the kids that had responded to the invitation—most of the kids that were my friends—and suddenly I was frightened. What if Jesus would come that day and I would be left behind? All day I tried to avoid my mother, but somehow she cornered me and simply asked if I knew of all who had gone forward. When was I going to do so? I told her, ‘Tonight.’ That was the longest, most miserable evening service. Had the invitation been given at the beginning, I would have responded immediately. No way could I sing the theme song, ‘Let Him Have His Way with Thee,’ because I was all choked up. What a relief it was to pour out my heart to the Lord that evening with Rev. J. J. Toews’ guidance. I felt a heavy burden roll off my heart. When I got up from my knees, I saw an unexpected sight—my mother, together with a number of other ladies, quietly kneeling with their folded hands on the pew in front of them (on the ladies’ side). As I came to that pew they came out, taking turns giving me a hug. My dad, together with a few other men, had been doing the same in the back rows of the men’s side. This, my second birthday, took place May 28, 1942, when I was 11 years old, and I have never regretted that decision.”