Third Souvenir Main Page

Excerpts from Francis 

C. Waid's Third Souvenir

Submitted by David M. Waid 

Wednesday, April 23.--My fifty-seventh birthday! I do not know that I could do better here than repeat, in part, what I had written in this connection for the Pennsylvania Farmer of May 1, 1890, as follows:

LEAVES OF A DIARY.

I am this morning at home in my father's, Ira C. Waid's, old home, my second son's, Guinnip P. Waid's, home, and my own dear home, where all fifty-seven years of my life on the farm have so pleasantly flown. I am looking at the figures on the milestone and wondering how and where all these years have gone. Nearly all have been spent on this farm in actual labor--indeed memory stamps them so; and yet I do not complain, for often with my brothers, in early days, and later on with my family, kindred and friends have I been permitted to enjoy the blessings and share the pleasures of my father's home. I am glad it remains in the family. I think of my parents, who were more to me than all the world besides; and I think to-day that faith in God's promises and obedience to my parents have been worth more, and brought a greater amount of good to me, than any other investment I ever made. I love the Bible. I can only say that my parents loved me, and I loved them in return, and tried as best I could to manifest it to them. There is a good thought in thus coupling obedience to parents with obedience to our Heavenly Father, to whom we owe all we possess. I would like to say to all, and especially to the young, it brings pleasure to-day, as we, my children and grandchildren and myself, celebrate this day at the homestead. I only will my wife were here to complete the enjoyment, but her impaired health detains her at her parents' home in Kansas.

This birthday brings reflections of the past, of opportunities that have come to me, some improved, some not. The thought arises: Why try to provide a home for children? What have my parents done for me? Provided twenty-one years' board and clothing, my schooling, and the best care in sickness and health they could afford. What do I owe my children? I leave the Bible to answer the question, and I turn to II Corinthians, xii: 14: "For the children ought not to lay up for the parents, but the parents for the children." Then again, "A good man leaveth an inheritance to children's children."

I wish in heart to honor the Lord as well as pay a tribute of respect to my parents for the blessings already received; and I want to do and acknowledge it on my fifty-seventh birthday, and every day to the close of life. Over forty years ago I sat in this home, as I do now, improving my spare moments writing in my diary.

My loneliness on account of the absence of wife, and my not feeling very well did not prevent the coming of my fifty-seventh birthday, and, like hurrying to catch a train, we made use of the day. I said to Anna, my son's wife, "I would like to have Fred and Minnie come to dinner, and have a family gathering to celebrate my birthday." My desire is granted. My children and grandchildren have gladdened my heart, and I am better in body. There is an advantage in a family gathering, and it is so convenient where children live near each other.

It has been said: "The man that makes two blades of grass to grow where one grew before, benefits his race." I am reminded that on my thirty-fifth birthday Henry Smith and myself planted some maples along State Street in Meadville, nine on his lot where he then lived, which shed their beauty on the landscape and their blessing on the traveler. I read when quite young, "Young Man go West," and I have often studied the subject since. My first trip in response to this advice was in 1860. Since then I have made several trips, and during the last two years four, traveling in several States and seeing a little of the great West. It is my honest opinion that, although I have always lived in Pennsylvania, yet, should my life be spared, my future home may be in the West. Men have been going West ever since the pilgrims landed on Plymouth Rock, and the geographical center of population has shifted from one place to another until many places have claimed the distinction.

When I was at Fort Riley, Kas., I was told that was the center. Many States, indeed may I not say every State and Territory, claim some advantage in preference to others; but that best location for farming or any other occupation is, in my opinion, like the Garden of Eden--difficult to locate, though the entire race of mankind has been ever searching for it. The majority have, like myself, had enough to do to secure a living and provide for their families. I think it right for every one to learn what he can in reference to the occupation he wishes to follow, and then seek the location that suits him. I did this, and on this, my fifty-seventh birthday can say I am contented. After my first visit to the West the question was often asked me, "Did you see any locality or farming country you liked?" I did, many such places; and would be as contented and happy as now, had I chosen to have lived there. But after my first trip West I weighed the matter, and came to the conclusion that I was better suited with my own little home in Pennsylvania, and every trip I have made since, whether west, east, north or south, I have returned with greater love for home. But the knowledge gained by these trips has done me good, and I am glad of the knowledge so gained.

While I believe a man can get a living and perhaps do well in any State or Territory in the Union, I also believe more depends upon the man than the place where he makes his home. I think the all wise Creator has distributed His blessings more evenly in the country than we give Him credit for. Men once tried to build a tower to Heaven, but failed. There is a surer and better way to get there. "Trust in the Lord, do good, and verily thou shalt be fed"--here and hereafter. I believe it is the experience of my fortieth year of Christian life that, though I became a Christian in youth, my only regret is that I have not been more faithful, and started earlier in life.

What adds most to the comforts of my earthly home is the assurance of and title to the Heavenly home. One incident of this day has been a visit to Aunt Polly Kiser [I visited her again July 7, 1891, and found her fast failing], our nearest neighbor, whom I have known from boyhood. She is in her eighty-ninth year, and standing close to the banks of the great river which separates the Heavenly land from ours. By the way, I am reminded of the death of my aged Aunt Mary Ann Simmons, of Jamestown, N. Y., who had passed away shortly before my arrival from Kansas, on April 4th, in her eighty-eighth year.

Let me sum up my fifty-seventh birthday: Family celebration with children and grandchildren; trip to Meadville; wrote a letter to a friend: put up 200 bushels of oats for market; wrote check for the stun of one hundred dollars as my contribution to Soldiers' Monument.

"One sweetly solemn thought

Comes to me o'er and o'er;

I'm nearer my home to-day

Than I ever have been before;

Nearer my Father's house,

Where the many mansions be;

Nearer the great white throne,

Nearer the crystal sea.

"Nearer the bound of life,

Where we lay our burdens down;

Nearer leaving the cross,

Nearer gaining the crown!

But the waves of that silent sea

Roll dark before my sight

That brightly the other side

Break on a shore of light.

"O, if my mortal feet

Have almost gained the brink;

If it be I am nearer home,

Even to-day, than I think,--

Father, perfect my trust!

Let my spirit feel, in death,

That its feet are firmly set

On a rock of a living faith."

Sunday, April 27.--How thankful I am to find myself in better health and able to attend church, Sunday-school and other religious exercises at the old State Road, and to enjoy the privileges of the sanctuary with my brethren, after an absence of three months. The Lord, through our pastor, Rev. James Clyde, had graciously revived the good work in the vineyard during the winter, and new converts had united with old ones in praising the Lord for what He had done for them. And this day we older members undertook to say that we, too, had great reason to be thankful to the Lord for His goodness and mercy to us. O that men would praise the name of the Lord for His goodness, and His wonderful works toward the children of men. If joy on earth be so great, what must it be in Heaven? Like Rev. Sam P. Jones, I want to get there! YES, GET THERE! From church I went to the house of Lewis M. Slocum, my son's father-in-law, who is in poor health, and here I remained over night. In the morning I drove the daughter, Lucy Slocum, to the school she teaches in the Kiser district, Mead Township, about five miles distant, and on our way saw three cemeteries or burial grounds, viz.: one at Wayland, the Ewing Graveyard and the Kiser Cemetery, just opposite the school-house where Lucy is teaching. This is her first school, her scholars being already thirty-two in number, and I could not help thinking about my own first school with a class of more than double the number they average nowadays, and of how my good friends used to help me along the rocky road to learning.

May 2.--To-day I attended the Farmers' Convention held in the Library Hall, Meadville. We were met together in a good cause--to become more united in our political effort to be represented in our legislature and general government, and to have farmers nominated to represent us and look after our interests. Were I a politician I would perhaps say more here, but I hope to be able some time to express my views on this subject as a practical farmer, one who has worked long enough and studied sufficiently as he went along to have gained something by experience. On May 3d I called on my aged friend, Rev. E. C. Pengra, who lives less than a mile southeast of Meadville. I have known him for many years, and was truly glad to see him. Brother Pengra had owned a farm just south of and near the State Road M. E. Church for several years prior to his moving to his present home. While I was enjoying my visit with Mr. Pengra, Dr. C. E. Hall and his wife came in to pay the aged and respected couple a visit, but of this event I have already made mention.

My visit to Mr. Pengra reminds me of a certain event that occurred December 22, 1870, the day he left his farm and had his public sale. I had gone with G. W. and P. M. Cutshall to Meadville, where I saw them leave by train (they were going West to buy some cattle), and on my way home I went to the sale at Mr. Pengra's. While there my son Guinnip arrived in haste on horseback to inform me of my father having been stricken with paralysis, and also went posthaste to tell my brother G. N. of the sad event. My friend, David Roberts, who was present at the sale, accompanied me as I hastened to my father's side [I shall never forget the expression on my father's face when I first saw him after the stroke: the one half of it was very much changed, but it afterward was partially restored to its normal condition], so alarmed was he, as well as myself, at the unexpected news. In that hour of distress, and up to the day of my father's death, January 27, 1871, Mr. Roberts proved himself a true friend to him and to the entire family.

"He that is thy friend indeed,

He will help thee in thy need."

"O spring, thou fairest season of the year,

How lovely soft, how sweet dost thou appear!

What pleasing landskips meet the gazing eye!

How beauteous nature does with nature vie."

                                            WEBB

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