As Living Stones: More Memories

More Memories

Marjory Henderson

Marjory Henderson, Elementary Education major at the University of Arizona, taught in their sons' Christian school in League City, TX for many years. Her first book, As Living Stones, is a multi award-winning book. Born and raised in Colorado, she moved with her husband and their two sons, Craig and Curtis, for a five year adventure in Saudi Arabia. From there they visited several Middle East countries, Cyprus, Kenya, England, Switzerland, Germany, and Holland. Since retiring, she enjoys teaching Bible studies as well as spending time with her family in Texas.

As Living Stones

As Living Stones: More Memories

In this sequel to As Living Stones: My Five Years in Saudi Arabia, Marjory Henderson writes from letters penned by her husband Keith to his parents and adds memories of her own. His work took them from the green of Colorado to the brown of Saudi Arabia. He found relationships with farmers to be both encouraging and discouraging. The socializing was encouraging, as was the occasional wheat yield of 80-100 bushels per acre. Discouraging was seeing wealthy, influential farmers getting perks from the government meant for poor farmers and having only five combines for 60 farms.

Marjory Henderson

As Living Stones

More Memories

Marjory Henderson

Headline Books, Inc. Terra Alta, WV

As Living Stones: More Memories

by Marjory Henderson copyright ©2023 Marjory Henderson All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any other form or for any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage system, without written permission from Headline Books, Inc. To order additional copies of this book or for book publishing information, or to contact the author: Headline Books, Inc. P.O. Box 52 Terra Alta, WV 26764 www.HeadlineBooks.com Tel: 304-789-3001 Email: mybook@headlinebooks.com ISBN 13: 9781958914007 Library of Congress Control Number: 2022942293

P R I N T E D I N T H E U N I T E D S TAT E S O F A M E R I C A

Above all I am grateful to the Lord Jesus who arranged the move to Saudi Arabia which led to my husband and me coming to know Him as Savior.

I am thankful He gave us 58 years together before He took Keith to be with Him on February14, 2022. My pain is great but the Lord is faithful.

I am also thankful for Alfred and Mildred Henderson, Keith’s parents, who had a great part in making my husband into the man I love.

To my editor, Cathy Teets, who has become a friend. Cathy, you are such a wonderful help not only in publishing the previous book, interviewing me on Zoom Into Books, but also in acting as host for our Zoom meetings with Saudi Arabia friends.

To Roxanne Lee who put the pictures into jpg form.

To Patty Boyd who made bookmarks to advertise As Living Stones: My Five Years in Saudi Arabia, my previous book, as well as As Living Stones: More Memoirs.

And thank you to my readers. I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Content Introduction.......................................................................... 7 The Adventure Begins.......................................................... 9 Keith’s Parents, Alfred and Mildred Henderson............. 10 Marjory’s Parents, Leonard and Eunice Livengood....... 17 On to Riyadh....................................................................... 24 Family.................................................................................. 30 Craig..................................................................................... 39 Craig’s Schools.................................................................... 45 Curtis.................................................................................... 49 Our Underground Church and Bible Study.................... 53 Life in Riyadh...................................................................... 60 Fun Times in Riyadh.......................................................... 65 Jesus our Savior................................................................... 66 Unazyah Business Trips..................................................... 70 Other Business Trips.......................................................... 72 Business Trips Outside Saudi Arabia............................... 81 Frustrations and Challenges of Saudi Arabia................. 83 Positives of Working in Saudi Arabia.............................. 85 Weather................................................................................ 87 My Husband’s Co-workers................................................ 89 Job Change.......................................................................... 92 Riyadh Navigation.............................................................. 95 How to Pray for Your Children........................................ 97 Friends................................................................................. 99 Humor................................................................................101 A Very Sad Story...............................................................103

Christmas Letter 1971......................................................104 Christmas Letter 1972......................................................107 Christmas Events..............................................................109 Islam...................................................................................111 Muslim Holidays..............................................................113 Our Family Travels...........................................................115 Return to the U.S..............................................................124 Update................................................................................132 Nothing Changes..............................................................139 My Husband’s Homegoing..............................................140 Keith’s Funeral...................................................................142 Alhumdeallah...................................................................144

Introduction In this sequel to As Living Stones: My Five Years in Saudi Arabia, Marjory Henderson writes from letters penned by her husband Keith to his parents and adds memories of her own. His work took them from the green of Colorado to the brown of Saudi Arabia. He found relationships with farmers to be both encouraging and discouraging. The socializing was encouraging, as was the occasional wheat yield of 80-100 bushels per acre. Discouraging was seeing wealthy, influential farmers getting perks from the government meant for poor farmers and having only five combines for 60 farms.

“Saudi Arabia? What do these words recall? Dessert?

Camels? Oil? Mecca? If you are like many Westerners that pretty much sums it up. But it was so much more. It became a second home to my husband and me. Continue reading and I will tell you our story.

Imagine with me fields of oil wells. Those wells began the mad dash into the 20th century for Saudi Arabia. My husband was part of that mad dash, taking me and our 2 preschool aged sons along with him then plunking us down in midst of a nation where 5-times-a-day prayer calls were heard, where Islam was not just a religion but a way of life. Unlike the democracy which had been part of my life we moved to a monarchy. It’s matawas (religious police) enforced Sharia law based on the Koran which ruled social, commercial, domestic, criminal and police affairs, every aspect of a Muslim’s life including prayer times when mental doors were pulled down and men crowded the long line of water spigots before forming their ablutions, the washing of face, nostrils, ears, hands and feet for prayer.”

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The Adventure Begins Big changes were coming to our lifestyle—and in so many different areas. During the interview in Denver, Colorado, I told the man who was to be my husband Keith’s boss that I did not think men should spend much time away from their families. I had to learn to deal with it.

Even before moving to Saudi Arabia, the Lord assured me, “I will be with thee and will keep thee in all places.” (Genesis 28:15) That gave me great peace inside.

Keith’s boss and his wife cushioned the move for us. While eating at a restaurant in Beirut, Lebanon, the pianist played “I Left My Heart in San Francisco in the Phoenician hotel.” Con, the boss, brought me out of my melancholy by asking Keith, “Who did she know in San Francisco?” Joking helped.

There was humor again one evening after we had settled in Riyadh, as we talked about washing clothes. I reported, “I just wash the lights and darks together.”

Con’s reply, “I thought they were all madras.” You may remember that was a fashion style. It was a jumble of various colors mixed together.

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Keith’s Parents, Alfred and Mildred Henderson It was hard to leave four loving grandparents. Craig might never have learned to walk if it had not been for her as he was 18 months old when he began. His dad, an avid Pitch player who we called Pop would silently smile lovingly at both his grandchildren.

He got a kick out of them.

He was a good example.

Though not a churchgoer, he made it a policy to never work on Sundays, not even during harvest, not even when rain was predicted.

Mom H. wrote me a very sweet note after Keith took me to the ranch to meet them: “Dear Margie, Just a little note to tell you we were glad to get to meet you and we want you to feel welcome to come with Keith whenever he asks you. I can’t remember if I asked you to come again and I won’t feel right until I do. If you continue seeing Keith, I want a chance for you and me to become better acquainted with each other.”

She was such a loving mother-in-law to me. She permed my hair and always bought me Family Circle and similar magazines before we visited. She said she did not want me to become bored. Some of my favorite time was spent just sitting in their yard as we talked with each other. There was sometimes complaining about the “miller moths” that also invaded their area.

Gramma Henderson was a very hard-working woman.

She made bread and sweet rolls which were highly acclaimed 10

by all within grabbing distance. She raised chickens, some of whose eggs she sold. When a chicken was needed for a meal, she would chop off its head, pluck out all the feathers and fry it. When we visited them or when they visited us, she fried chicken as she knew it was my favorite meal.

When needed, she worked in the field with her husband and then went back to the home place to prepare a meal to take to Pop in the field when he did not have time to come back to the ranch house to eat. Next to the back door, a big bell was rung to call everyone to mealtime. Supper alternated between homemade soup and sandwiches. She harvested and canned from her garden and stored it in the storm cellar. She cooked three meals each day. No TV dinners for her except once a year.

She declared New Year’s Day to be No Cooking Day and gave herself a break putting TV dinners into the stove to eat while they watched the football games.

Pop did not like the color yellow, so mom did not use it in the house. She did have yellow curtains on the back porch. The door led to the kitchen and was the only door ever used. Many noticed those yellow curtains.

As good as the paternal grandparents were, we had concerns about leaving our sons with them when Keith’s boss sent us to Mexico to visit CIMAT where new varieties of wheat and maize were being developed.

The picture shows Keith with his parents, brother Dale, and sister Nadine. My husband would need that information for his work in Saudi Arabia.

Had we but known. When we left, our older son came into their home, flopped himself down on the couch, and said, “Whew. I don’t have to listen to them anymore.”

Gramma thought it was humorous when she needed to doctor our son Craig as he was “going at both ends.” I never enjoyed that much but would always hold a son’s head when 11

he was vomiting. I was very touched when I found the younger one doing that for the older one when I had not made it to the bathroom in time.

The Prescotts, a family who lived on the next farm, made it possible for Pop and Mom to stay in their farmhouse as long as they did. We are glad their son Steven and wife Jamés live on the home place now. They often ate meals together.

I was glad we were in Colorado when Keith’s Mom took the fall that eventually led to her being with the Lord. I was able to sit at her bedside, talk with her, rub her back, do whatever seemed would be of help. On the day of her death, she encouraged Pop, Keith, and me to all go out for something to eat even though we all wanted to leave one person with her. Upon our return, her nurse told us, “We lost her.” It was a shock as we had not expected it to be that soon. We had not realized the urgency of notifying Keith’s brother Dale to get on the road from Kansas to be able to see her one last time. He did not arrive before she was in heaven. The nurse explained that sometimes people seem to choose their time of death to a certain extent. Some knew it would be easier for their families not to witness their passing.

Pop, as we called Keith’s dad, was a very good example for all who knew him. He was a very hard worker. They raised cattle and grew sorghum supplemented by alfalfa to feed them.

He even tried to teach me how to milk one of their cows. I never succeeded. Their milk was not pasteurized. I very much enjoyed having cream that rose to the top of the bottle on the top of my cereal. And the homemade ice cream was delicious.

We eventually gifted them with a small freezer that did not require cranking.

He was always very gracious to his wife and me. Each week he would accompany her to the store when they went 12

into town for groceries. When we were visiting Mom in the hospital, he volunteered to accompany me to the grocery store, not wanting me to get lost. He knew that I am directionally challenged. I assured him that I would be able to navigate as I managed around in our area of Texas, which was somewhat larger.

I am glad that we took her outside in a wheelchair as her spirits were down. After she died the next day, an aide assured me the time outside had not harmed but helped her.

We thought Keith’s mom would follow her husband to Heaven as he was several years older. That was not the case.

After her death, we were amazed at his ability to cook for himself. He lived alone in their farmhouse 12 miles from the nearest hard-topped road. He was amazing as he had not even known how to use a can opener before the need to cook arose.

He stuck to their breakfast tradition of oatmeal alternating with Cream of Wheat and fried eggs. I knew he would be blown away by the variety of groceries from which we could choose in the stores where we shopped in Friendswood, Texas. After Mom H’s homegoing, he was very thankful for the times Keith and I drove to Colorado to visit and left behind frozen meals I had prepared. He especially liked it when I made Mom H’s homemade potato soup. I made it a time or two for him after he was in the assisted living home.

When it came time for him to move into an assisted living home near Keith’s brother Dale and wife Collette, the Lord blessed him with a like-minded roommate. They very much enjoyed talking about the days when each of them lived on a farm.

He teased me about being afraid of the kangaroo rat that skittered across the floor in their home. Yes, they do carry themselves like a kangaroo.

Time at the farm was always very special, even though the rooster woke us up early each morning. There was always a good night’s sleep before that happened. “Sleep-inducing” describes the upstairs bedroom amidst quiet that was unheard 13

of in our home in Friendswood, Texas. We are very glad the ranch is now owned by the Prescotts, very close friends of Mom and Pop. Their son Steven and daughter-in-law, Jamés, live in the farmhouse now. They not only take excellent care of the home place, but Jamés decorates the home and even the chicken coop in a very creative manner.

He and Mom managed to make their way through Dallas and then Houston when they came to visit Friendswood.

Remarkable. After a few days, he became antsy, wanting to get back to the Hereford cattle they raised. I am pleased to use a painting of cattle by our son Craig’s mother-in-law, Mary Jones, rather than just a photograph.

Keith’s pop had a saying that developed into a tradition.

When someone asked how he was doing, the reply was, “Finer than frog’s hair.” The correct response was, “I didn’t know frogs had hair.”

“That’s because it’s so fine you can’t see it.” My husband uses that expression on occasion as well.

I have seen that a person grows to love the landscape surrounding them as a child. I was raised near the mountains, so see beauty in greenery. My husband pointed out the beauty of the different colors of dirt near their ranch in the Colorado, Kansas, Nebraska area. Some friends were raised in my husband’s area. She said, “We used to say to each other, “Let’s go out in the middle of the street and look at the sky.” They lived in Washington D. C. with its abundance of trees.

We compensated as much as possible for the distance from the grandparents by showing our children pictures. I even made a bulletin board of family pictures. The expressions on their faces indicate the deep love they had for him. “Grampa” was one of our younger son’s first 20 words. Our son liked to have his head scratched like his dad and paternal Grampa.

“Baby” was another of his first words. It reminds me of a picture in our encyclopedia for small children we often read.

There was a picture of a baby crying with the notation, “Bad, 14

bad baby.” We sometimes still use that phrase in a joking fashion when someone in the family has done something he/ she should not have.

During the winter, it was very cold at their place and for a time, the only heat was from cobs in the cook stove. Even after that, there was only a propane heater in the living room. It did feel great to get to bed upstairs and snuggle under many quilts.

We had many good nights of deep sleep in that bed. And when I was pregnant, I had the privilege of having a potty chair by the bed rather than using the outhouse.

One of my favorite memories is spending the afternoon at their home sitting on the front lawn during warm weather, relaxing and chatting.

I will take you back in time to Keith’s parents traveling from the ranch where they raised Herefords to my parents’ home in Fort Collins, Colorado, to meet my parents. They thoroughly enjoyed each other both then and when they infrequently met on other occasions. Over the years, my husband and I have remarked to each other that we were each blessed in our inlaws. Our parents’ first meeting was not long before we married.

His mother warned me, “He will ask you over and over where he put something wanting you to help him find it.” Fifty-six years later, that is still the situation.

Curtis was only three months old when we moved to Riyadh. As he grew, he remembered things from summer visits to the maternal grandparents’ ranch. When I prepared chicken for dinner, he said, “This was a brown chicken.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

He replied, “Gramma told me those are the ones she kills.

You don’t kill the white ones because they lay eggs for you.”

We wrote letters frequently. We still have some that Craig dictated and then very carefully signed in his preschool printing. He sent a message to his grandparents that “I have a hurt leg” (a scratch that he dug the scab off). He added that he had been playing with his blocks and had been drinking 15

orange pop. He also mentioned his cat Freckles, who his dad said had a mean streak and scratched Craig at times.

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Marjory’s Parents, Leonard and Eunice Livengood My parents were as loving to our sons as my husbands were.

My dad could not wrestle with them as he was weakened by asthma. He would instead play with them, saying, “I’m gonna whisker you,” or “Who’s got my ratchet?” The ratchet was a tool that he always carried in the pocket of the Sears shirts and pants he wore daily.

He and my husband were much alike in personality. Keith, though never made the comment I would hear from my dad, “She looks like she was melted and poured into them.” (her blue jeans) You know what he would think of skinny jeans.

As we fished, my daddy would help explain my future husband to me. We had great fun fishing and talking. Even pre-fishing was fun as we hunted night crawlers in a cemetery after dark. They made great bait. You had to be quick, though, because the light of the flashlight sent each quickly back into his hole. Removing the fish from the hook was something I did not do.

I often hear my daddy saying, “Cut away from yourself, kid,” as I use a knife. He was a very protective, loving father.

He was also very knowledgeable in his field, explaining after I got a shock from a radio. I thought it was because I had been standing in a little bit of water while helping with the washing in the basement of our home. He responded, “It shouldn’t do that unless it was shorted.” He used to tease us, saying, “I’m going to make you some fried potatoes and onions.” Sometimes when his three daughters could not finish all we had on our plates at a meal, he would say, “Your eyes were bigger than your stomach.”

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My daddy was forced to quit school after the 8th grade as his asthma caused him to miss many school days. He once told me he would have liked to have been a doctor. With his patience and kindness, he would have been a good one. I saw his potential ability as he gently applied pressure to force my kneecap back into position after I slipped and fell on the wet grass beneath our volleyball net. Instead of a career as a doctor, he became a radio repairman.

My mom had a college education. She often was very perceptive. During one visit to our home, she noticed the front entry hall, which led to two short halls divided by a bookcase. Those halls led into the family room. She saw the possibility of walking around that area in a circle and remarked, “Children like places where they can walk round and round in a circle.”

She also was very perceptive regarding her own health.

One day she calmly stated, “When you have time, I need to be taken to the emergency room. I think I have pleurisy.” She was right. And she knew how to get a good night’s sleep. When she awakened at approximately 5:30 each morning, she would get up, sit in a chair with a stocking over her eyes to keep out the light. She would then sleep some more. She sometimes would continue to lie in bed telling me, “Resting is almost as good for the body as sleeping.” I remember that at times when I am having trouble sleeping.

Scheduling her day, she read several Bible devotionals, watched Price is Right on TV, took a nap, spent some time reading, and so on. When I asked her, “Do you ever get bored?” she replied, “I just figure life is like that.”

She passed to our children a love for reading. Her book recording of each book she had read since junior high revealed 18

a total of 5,327. Note the picture of one page of the list of books she read. The book she was reading when she went to Heaven was The Cat Who Went Up the Creek by Lillian Jackson Brown.

A short time before, she had read Peace Like a River by Lief Inger, a book the librarians in Denver, Colorado, suggested everyone read at the same time. I read it even though our home was Houston, Texas, as I wanted to read the book she was reading. Her rule for herself was that she must finish each book she started, whether she liked it or not. I do not have the same rule. I sometimes think, “I don’t need to finish this. It’s just not holding my attention.” I do try to read 50 pages to give the author a chance.

Hard work was not foreign to my mom. She gave several piano lessons each day and many on Saturdays played the organ at our church, sewed all the dresses for her three daughters until we were old enough to sew for ourselves, made sandwiches for us to take to school each day, and cooked all meals from scratch. No microwave meals for the Livengoods. Plus, she had Daddy and the three of us join her in picking rose hips in the Rocky Mountains. We worked as a team to freeze them for their high vitamin C content. We liked the sandwiches more than the rosehips in orange juice she gave us for breakfast.

Our meals were always nutritious. My frequent question for our sons and my husband was and is, “What do you want for your vitamin thing?” My mom’s plan was to have a “vitamin thing” with the protein served at each meal. The only luxury was fresh bread rolls from a baker named Steffy, whose business was close to my father’s radio repair shop.

When my mom had her 90th birthday, my two sisters and I wrote her cards detailing our memories involving her and our appreciation of her. Not long after, I was very glad that we were in Colorado rather than Texas when she broke a bone. She showed that she had “learned to be content” regardless of her circumstances, as I had written in her birthday card. She personified, “…I have learned to be 19

content whatever the circumstances.” (Philippians 4:11). Those circumstances included eating only pureed food during her stay in a rehabilitation center. I think “learned” is the key word.

Contentment does not come automatically. She was a woman of faith who learned to be content. Her love of books came to her aid as she spent most of her rehab time reading. The sister with whom she lived spent much time in the rehab center with her. I was very glad both my sisters lived near as they could give me updates when I could not view the situation myself.

We received the phone call telling us of her break when we were at Keith’s parents several hours away. We rushed to Fort Collins, Colorado to be with her. It was very good to be able to spend time with her in the hospital and see the situation face to face before traveling back to our home in Texas.

One of my sisters reported her general practitioner really enjoyed her. He told her more than once, “I believe my patients should at least weigh their ages. At 75 pounds, she did not, so he suggested she eat many candy bars, a real change after having become ill whenever she ate sugar for most of her life.

I think the Lord was giving her a little extra treat during her older years.

She was very widely read and told my sister Shirley, “I’ve read that when a person over 90-years-old breaks a bone below the waist, she usually doesn’t survive. Isn’t it good that we don’t have to worry about things like that?” She knew where she was going after her time on earth was over. My sister Shirley wrote a wonderful daily diary to send to her sister who lived in New York so she would know about Mom’s progress.

We had seen the agony it caused Keith’s mom to get out of bed after she had a similar break. The Lord did something very remarkable for my mom. She never was in much pain. The nurses would ask if she wanted another pain pill. She would reply, “I’m not in pain.” She asked her doctor if she could get out of bed. His reply, “We’ll see about that.” She was able. Not very long after, she sat in a chair as she read, made a trip to the 20

bathroom then got back into bed. I must have inherited those genes. When I had to have a plate in my elbow, the surgeon was very surprised at how little pain I felt. I told him my mother had been the same way.

She very much liked numbers and would have been pleased to know that her memorial service was on 04/04/04. I attribute my good health and her longevity partially to her being very nutrition-minded and vitamin supplement-oriented.

She taught piano lessons for years and often assigned hymns to her students. That enabled them to play at their churches.

“Abide with Me” was one of her favorites to teach. The words are very encouraging, and it was easier than some of the others.

Abide with me Fast falls the even tide.

The darkness deepens, Lord with me abide.

When other helpers fail And comforts flee, Help of the helpless, O abide with me.”

Our mom stressed correct grammar as we grew up. “He and I,” not “me and him,” etc. I think of her when I see the shirt slogan, “I’m silently correcting your grammar.”

One summer Craig, a toddler, sat in his maternal grandmother’s lap while she taught piano students. Her 1926 yearbook read, “Music is the speech of angels. Eunice is their interpreter.” She was an amazing woman, playing classical music on the piano into her 90s. She only stopped then because her back was too weak to sit on the bench.

She was also very clever. Entering a contest to name the two new bears in the Denver Zoo, she sent “Den-nis and Verna.” Her entry did not win, but I still think it should have.

Further memories of my mom include 1. A picture of her and my sister Maisie sitting with an identical pose, chins resting 21

on the palms of their hands. Could even that be genetic? 2.

Her singing as she did housework. Often it was “Scotland’s burning. Scotland’s burning. Look out. Look out. Pour on water. Pour on water.” You remember that classic, right? 3. She had a thick, hard-back book of piano music of various types.

She played from it while my sisters and I sang. I took that book to Saudi Arabia with me and sang the songs with Craig and Curtis, although we did not have a piano. I was not a good enough pianist to sightread the music if we had one.

The picture shows my sister’s husband Don, me, and my sister Shirley enjoying our mom’s piano playing. When my mom gave piano lessons, she would let each student choose a star to indicate a particular piece of music in the book had been played well. She gave a picture to indicate that a piece had been memorized. Sometimes she chose a piece that would not be difficult for a student and let them sight-read it to earn a dot. She also had them note the minutes they practiced each week on the side of each piece of assigned music. She ran a tight ship. 5. She was also very loved and appreciated by her students and their parents. She had piano recitals for them. At the end of one recital, the families gifted her with two bedtable lamps which we had in our home for many years. Her talent was remarkable. It skipped me in the next generation. But our grandchildren are all musical, which makes me very glad as it is a part of my mom in them. 6.

She met our dad when she moved into their small town to become the music teacher in the schools.

It was two generations later when their first grandson was born. You can see how much they adored him.

We were very fortunate to live only 22

45 minutes away from them for the first 2 ½ years of Craig’s life. I would often pack him in his baby seat and head for their home in Fort Collins, Colorado. My sister Maisie remembers me sitting with him balanced between my legs, playing a game of solitaire.

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On to Riyadh Leave the grandparents we did as we pressed on into the future. We had many hours on a plane before we arrived in Saudi Arabia. The hours included a plane change in New York City. It was the only time we visited there. My single memory is my eyes burning from the pollution.

Later the airplane stewardess asked, “Do you want to rent earphones to enjoy the overnight movie?”

My husband jokingly replied, “I’ll pay you to not show the movie.” With two very young children we needed sleep.

Some airlines provided better sleeping arrangements for our younger son than others. Some had a bed attached to the back of the seat of the row in front. Others’ generous provision was a cardboard box. Sarcasm intended.

As we prepared to land in New York City to make our connection to Paris, France, the stewardess issued the typical announcement, “Fasten your seatbelts.” Those of us who knew we were about to miss a plane connection and gain a long wait not only did not fasten the belt but also crowded up the aisle to stand as near as possible to the door with carry-on luggage in our arms. Fortunately, we made it to the connecting plane before our overseas flight departed.

Upon arrival, my husband wrote to his parents, “We finally made it to Riyadh on Monday, April 27 at 5:00 a.m. We left Beirut at 11:00 p.m. and flew all night.”

“Riyadh is a strange city,” my husband continued. “It has quite modern buildings and houses and is spread out over a big area with lots of vacant space between buildings. Mostly it is a dirty city. The main streets are cleaner. The side streets

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and vacant spots are trashy with paper, cans, rocks, and lots of junk.”

“Our house is quite nice. It is big with rather nice furniture, a large window with drapes, carpets, a large dining room table, a big sofa and chairs, washer, refrigerator, freezer, gas stove, small kitchen table, and air conditioner. It also has three bedrooms which is nice, and a small yard enclosed by a wall about eight feet high. This helps keep some of the junk out of the yard and keeps the kids in and the goats out. Herds of shaggy goats (SA46.jpg) roam the area at the edge of town and eat everything in sight, which isn’t very much. The biggest problem with the house is going to be the water system. It makes the one at our farm look pretty fancy. There is an underground tank that receives water from the city water system. That water is then pumped up on top of the house to a smaller storage tank which holds 200-300 gallons. The only pressure you have is the gravity flow of the water from the top of the house down through the pipes to the sink, toilet, water heater, and so on. The water is not good for drinking so we must buy drinking and cooking water in gallon jugs from the Pepsi Cola plant.”

On one trip to the Pepsi plant, our two sons were able to get the car into gear so they could “drive.” My husband ran back to the car then ran alongside until he was able to open the door and get behind the wheel.

Another problem was the bougainvillea bushes in the yard. They did not belong to us. We could not cut them down.

They were poisonous, so we had to warn our children and then watch them to be certain they did not put them into their mouths.

Yes, our children had pets in Saudi Arabia. Some would be very foreign to children in the U.S. Pet hedgehogs were prickly but did not scratch like Freckles 25

the cat did. My husband said he had a mean streak. My husband found the hedgehogs twisted in the netting, which protected crops at the experimental farm. As the name indicated, they lived under our hedge. The mother had babies the size of a $.50 piece. They were so cute. Kitta, our sons’ black and white cat, was a pet common in the U.S. Kind Dog, named after a book my sister sent our sons, was not really a pet. He just hung around outside our wall. He was unlike the other dogs our children saw, another reason for his name. Most dogs in Riyadh were wild and dangerous. They never seemed to injure him.

Most of the modern buildings in Riyadh are made of concrete. I (Marjory) found it interesting to read in Reader’s Digest that not all sand is suitable for building. The huge sand dunes near Riyadh are too smooth for the grains to lock together. Despite all its dunes, Saudi Arabia needs to import sand to build its cities.

My husband continued to write, “Work is going to be quite a job. I will be working with young men who are trainees in the Saudi Arabian Agricultural Department. They are pretty bright fellows and know some English, but the only thing they know about agriculture is from examples they have seen and every bit of it is wrong. They feel they are doing a very good job and look very pleased with themselves. There is also red tape, selfishness, ignorance.” At that point, the Saudi Arabian censors deleted part of the letter. My husband continued by saying, “Despite all this, we are both quite excited about the whole thing. We have already met some very nice, interesting people and give the above examples just to indicate what kind of help these people need. If everything worked as well here as it did in the U.S.A., they certainly wouldn’t be paying anybody to come over and fix them. I can see where a person could do a lot of good for a lot of people and feel pretty good about it.”

Mental adjustments also needed to be made as we settled into our new villa. The home was surrounded by an 8-foot wall so that my husband could not see other men’s wives 26

and daughters and they could not see me. There is quite a contrast between our home in Friendswood, Texas, and our villa in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. The pictures are of our home in Friendswood and one similar to our villa in Saudi Arabia, although ours did not have a second story. One wonders why I never took a picture of our villa. Still, another home was on a busy street in Longmont, Colorado. I told 2-year-old Craig, “Front door never.” emphasizing the fact that he was never to leave our home to go near the street. That was not a problem in Riyadh. The security of the wall enabled him to go out the front door whenever he chose. It was not a problem in Friendswood either, as he was a second-grader when we moved into that home and knew the need to stay away from cars.

Grocery shopping was also an adjustment. Although Riyadh had one modern grocery store, there was also the vegetable Souk in which better prices could be found. The first picture shows men from Yemen unloading produce; the second shows the vegetable Souk itself.

We adjusted. Within a few months, it seemed only a fact of life to have ants on the floor, ants on the wall, and ants on the ceiling. Keith took a picture of a group as they carried a Frito chip up the wall. There was a colony that followed our older son Craig. They must have been encouraged by the few crumbs he dropped. We hated to spray often because we did not want our sons to breathe the fumes. We sprayed just when we were going to be gone for an hour or two.

An interesting although minor adjustment was that instead of holding one’s hand palm up and moving the fingers to indicate “Come here,” the Saudis gestured with the palm facing down with the same hand motion.

The arrival of our air freight was a happy occasion. Keith and I were glad to have more clothes. Curtis was glad to get his playpen since it kept Craig from stomping on him. Craig was glad to get more books and his potty chair. He went over, sat down, and used it. Later as he sat on it in the bathroom, he 27

told me, “I’m relaxing for a bit.” He also gained the few toys we packed, which meant he no longer had to use an empty paper towel roll as a horn holding it to his mouth, raising it up and down while he sang “Be-e-e-ware Be-e-e-e-ware” from his record “Ollie and the Big Horn.” We knew that in addition to the anticipated slowness of our boat freight arrival, our shipment would be further postponed due to a dock strike on the east coast.

Communication, usually slow, was delayed even further when a huge sack of mail was lost in the Riyadh airport. Our friends, Keith and I congratulated ourselves on having “the best postal system in the world” right in the U.S.A. Keith began one of his letters, “Hi there, this is a note from us here in the Mystic Middle East. It is a mystery because no one knows for sure how it has continued to exist.” He went on to write that the situation in Beirut, Lebanon, “was worse than we thought at first.” Some friends of ours were there in the midst of the war. My husband and I were almost overcome by the stupidity and savageness of the fighting between the Lebanese army and the Palestinian refugees who lived in and around Beirut. His boss and their family spent two days and nights in the bomb shelter basement of their apartment house with all the rest who lived in the building. The windows in their apartment were all destroyed. Bullets riddled curtains and walls. The army was shooting at suspected snipers on top of or in the building. Beirut was known as “the Paris of the Middle East” before the shooting began. The Lebanese were noted for their short tempers and lack of reason when they were excited. We were thankful the Saudis as a whole were much calmer and not so quick to blame others for something.

There was absolutely no criticism of the government either in Lebanon or Saudi Arabia. Some wondered how Americans put up with the political system with all the underhanded affairs.

Others thought it was no big deal as what we were seeing in

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the Nixon administration was what they expected from their governments.

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Family A little girl in an elementary school in Tucson, Arizona, recognized Craig was coming in a very sweet way. In those days, women were not to substitute or teach beyond the time when the pregnancy showed. When the little girl patted my stomach, I realized my subbing days were over. She had been around enough pregnant relatives and family friends that she could identify the sign.

Raising our two boys was much different than the family of three soft-spoken girls my parents raised. One day I commented at the supper table, “Have you noticed when Curtis is eating something he does not like, he eats very neatly with his mouth shut?”

Curtis, “That’s so I won’t gag it out.” My husband’s mom would not have been shocked to hear that. Our sons would also say to each other, “Swallow it like a “bitamin” (vitamin) when I required them to eat a little of food they did not like.

We appreciated their eating with their mouths shut since we were working on good table manners before returning to the U.S.A. It was not necessary as my mom suggested letting them eat salad with their fingers. She just wanted them to eat salad.

We felt that we owed our sons a rearing that resulted in people wanting to be around them. As a result, when Craig misbehaved at the kitchen table while eating with his paternal grandparents, I took him upstairs to put him on the bed to think about it. Evidently, that had not been the situation when previous relatives visited. The grandparents commented on the contrasting situations. When I brought Craig back to the table, he commented, “It was a ‘stake.” His word for “mistake.”

How did our sons get their names? My husband had wanted to name a son “Craig” for many years. We both 30

thought that “Curtis” went well with “Craig.” We grew up in the era with a “Don’t have more than two children or we will over-populate the planet” scare and fell for it. That meant no more natural-born children. It was our desire to adopt a baby girl from Lebanon. I even chose a name for her—Sarai. Easy enough to pronounce in the U. S. but with a Middle Eastern flare also. We talked with an official at an adoption agency in Beirut, Lebanon and were told “You already have two children.

Why do you want another?” We must not have wanted another badly enough because we let the matter drop. I have sometimes wondered what it would be like to raise a girl. I know I would not have been much help in teaching her how to apply makeup or selecting clothing with style. I think our two sons were easy to raise even though I was surprised God gave us boys when I was raised with two sisters and gentle parents. I remember a neighbor in the U.S. telling me that I needed to “toughen them up a little.”

Craig and Curtis’ relationship was close from the first. It may partly have been because I took a picture of Craig to display on my eating tray when I went to the hospital to have Curtis.

When I brought Curtis home from the hospital, I put Curtis in his crib. I then laid on the bed with Craig, as had been suggested at a pre-birth class. He just kept saying, “Mom, Mom. Glad. Glad.” even though he had a vast vocabulary. I had been gone a week as the delivery was Cesarean Section. Although I made him a book with several pages detailing the number of days I would be gone, it may have seemed to him that I would never return. There was never any jealousy on his part. During my first meal at home, I decided to eat one more time without having to hold a baby in my lap. I left Curtis in his crib even though he was crying.

Craig became upset immediately and said, “Momma, get baby.

Get baby.” Fortunately, my mom did walk in on him at one 31

point when he was about to get on his brother and “ride him like a horsy.” When Curtis lay in the playpen, Craig would play next to it. They were great company for each other.

When Curtis awakened from his nap, he would immediately toddle to his brother’s room to give him a “wake up squeeze.”

Starting at a young age, Craig taught his brother many things, even how to lick to dust that gathered on the top of the wall around our villa. Fortunately, it was too hot for anything harmful to exist in the dust.

Curtis mimicked his brother in almost everything he did.

When Craig worked in his dot-to-dot books, Curtis took a blank sheet of paper and drew like he was connecting dots: “8, 11, 12, 13, 18-what’s that?” Sometimes he was like a shadow that was about 2-3 seconds behind time. At other times the mimicking was reversed. When Curtis did an unusual thing, Craig imitated him. When my sister visited for a month, they shared a room. They liked it so much that they continued to share it even when it was no longer necessary. In their many hours together, they developed a closeness that has lasted their lifetimes.

Curtis, who cried very infrequently, was a very easy-going baby. Although we had planned to have them that close in age so they could be good friends, the Lord provided my need for an easy child when my energy level had to cover them both.

Even though Curtis was easy-going, it still was a great help that we had a 2-2 ratio with them. Keith was laid off from his job at Great Western Sugar Company due to downsizing when Curtis was two weeks old. He was able to hold and entertain Craig while I nursed Curtis.

They could get into trouble. One day when Obed, our house boy was babysitting, he ignored their giggles as they tore wallpaper off in their bedroom. I assume he thought, they’re content. Leave them alone. One tore off a little piece that was loose. The other took another strip. Before long, most of the wall within their reach was demolished. When I saw what they had done, I gave them a choice of punishment—spankings or 32

spending a long period of time on their beds. They both chose the bed. Pretty soft-hearted of me, was it not?

In a tradition that continued for many years, a birthday child would get a number of gifts while the other son would also get one. The picture shows Curtis watching Craig open his gifts.

Books were among their favorite gifts, as you can see by the pile sitting next to Craig. Curtis always sat by his brother’s side, waiting for his turn. According to their agreement, Craig would look at each book in the pile before Curtis started. Curtis was a poster child of patience.

Since Craig had a good memory and was very intelligent, I decided to try to engage him in conversation as he and I ate a meal. I soon learned that would not be possible. It was beyond him as a two-year-old. That did not last forever, though. I realized when he was in high school, there was a tendency for whatever he thought to come out of his mouth. Curtis was the opposite. When I wanted to spend time talking with him, I would get a book to read and lie down on the bed while he worked or played on the computer. It took some time to begin conversing. I tell people I also have “the gift of gab.” Keith is more like Curtis in the way he communicates.

Craig was a communicator even before he could speak. We made a trip back to Arizona, our home, while Keith studied for his Ph.D. a couple of years after he graduated. Craig rode on a wooden platform that fit over the back seat where he could crawl and play. That was something that would get a person in trouble with Child Protective Services these days. Packing baby food in his diaper bag to have available when we went to visit friends was a built-in solution in case he became hungry before 33

it was convenient to feed him. At a friend’s home, he crawled to the diaper bag, took out the can opener, and crawled to give it to me. “I’m hungry, Mom.” Our children grew well during their years in Saudi Arabia.

I tried so hard to help them feel secure that when one would awaken in the night, I would go into his room. Craig would insist on me lying down with him. Curtis cried until I patted him on his back to help him sleep. I was up several times each night with one or the other. After I became very grouchy due to lack of sleep, I decided it was as good for them to feel secure in the daytime as it was at night. I needed my sleep to maintain an even keel. I told Craig we were through messing around and did not go to comfort Curtis each time he made a peep. They slept better after that. I had not had a full night’s sleep in many months, but I was working on it at last. I even told Craig that if he called me during the night, I would come, but there would be a spanking involved. Not the best mothering technique, but desperate situations call for desperate measures.

Curtis developed pneumonia each time he had a cold, a total of 11 times in two years. I slept with him to make certain that he was doing well. I could be a good mother. All of us moms know that does not make for the best of sleep. Especially since our son liked to sleep right next to me, making it hard for me to roll over. Then each mom needs to do all that needs to be done the next day. It is just a requirement of motherhood.

It is what makes us good mothers. Mom Henderson became worried about my lack of sleep. I wrote her that “It’s just a part of motherhood.” I received encouragement from our doctor in the U.S.A., “It helps to remember they outgrow it before they reach college.”

As I sat by his bed to keep Curtis company, I made a pirate costume for Craig from two pieces of my clothing that I no longer wanted. I also made a costume for myself. I borrowed a veil 34

from a neighbor. I also put on her abaya, but it was horribly hot under there. I do not know how the Saudi women stood it, especially in the summer when the temperatures were over 100 degrees day after day. We wore the costumes for the church party on October 31.

Our sons had a good father too. He told me after Craig was born, “I had to leave the delivery room and cry.” He was equally thankful for Curtis.

Part of their security was the love they felt when I chose a special song for each child, which I sang to him as I snuggled him in my lap. Craig’s was “You Are My Sunshine,” which I sometimes changed to an upbeat “You are my sunny, sunny, sunny sunshine…” His brother, by far the rougher, had a song too, “Open the gates as high as the sky to watch King George and his soldiers ride by. Here is a lantern to light you to bed and here is a sword to cut off your head.” Pretty grizzly, right? I did change the “cut off your head” to “Here is a kiss on top of your head.” Each time I ended with a kiss. Craig later sang the sunshine song to his son. I think Curtis avoided the sword song with his daughters.

The three of us had great times together. They were at home most all the time, which meant they needed more entertainment than children in the U.S. They played with our Hubble Bubble, which many expatriates bought as souvenirs. Many Saudi men smoked fruit from them, passing around the pipe as they conversed in outdoor restaurants.

Learning numbers was fun as I gave them a deck of cards and instructed them to divide the cards by color. Later it was “Divide by suit.” After that, it was “Arrange in numerical order.”

We were home schoolers before it was popular, even before anyone knew the term.

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I also involved them in household chores. During meal preparation, I would read the recipe. One son would gather the ingredients and the other would stir. At one time, I had a picture of Curtis, wearing a diaper, dusting with a huge smile on his face. Even housework could be fun if presented correctly. I even let them wash dishes, Craig washing and Curtis rinsing. I took myself to another room as it would have been difficult for me to see the mess they made spilling water everywhere. After they finished, I would wipe up the water. Our sons’ additional closeness far outweighed the disadvantages of our life in Riyadh.

Curtis was very frustrated one day as he sat next to me, “spelling out” words by saying letters as Craig did. He was quite surprised to learn that it did not come out reading as it did with his brother. Curtis showed intelligence in learning all the alphabet letters at a very early age.

A wonderful treat for all of us was having a couple move to Riyadh who had boys the ages of ours. Of course, we knew many women there who were not Muslim, but that is quite different from having another who is really committed to Christ. We had great Christian friendships, but ours were the only children. Just two weeks before, I had said to my best friend, “I wish there was someone else around with small children.” I was certain that being a Christian made childrearing easier because I had the Lord to depend on, but there were additional problems. Like one day when Craig and Curtis were fighting more than usual, I told them, “God says to love.”

Craig was full of the desire to be in God’s will. Between this and their imaginations, they were coming up with “God says not to hit.” “God says not to grab.”

It climaxed when Craig said, “God says “Don’t drink the other person’s orange Tang.”

Curtis replied, “God doesn’t say that.”

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“Who says it then?”

“The Lord.” We got a laugh out of that, but it does indicate a certain amount of confusion. I was glad that there would be someone around having the same problems at the same time.

It doubled the chance of finding solutions.

Our sons went crazy over a shipment of a variety of cereals.

Previously corn flakes from England were all that was available.

Another positive note was Buitoni pasta from Italy. The Italians know how to do pasta.

They really enjoyed tap water when we visited in the U. S. Both there and in Riyadh, I let them choose their “night drink” to keep next to their beds in case they got thirsty during the night. In the States, they would choose tap water. It is fun to see that what is a rarity is valued, even something as common as tap water to those living in the U.S. I solved the problem. What should be done when two young sons disagree on what is for lunch? Take out all the available cans: Spaghetti-O’s, Chicken and Dumplings, Corned Beef Hash, and so on. Line up the cans on the floor, making certain the total is an odd number. The first child (the mother chooses as she remembers which is correct when both say, “You chose last time.”). The child chooses a can he does NOT want. The second then makes a choice taking turns until only one can remains. That is lunch. The mother may choose what she wants to eat.

Another solution was “surprise dinner,” an attractive name for leftovers shared by us all. When Keith was out of town, we would buy TV dinners and pistachios, foods too expensive to eat on a regular basis. Each son would wait patiently for his turn as I cracked the nuts. At other times they liked the same thing over and over. First, it was omelets, then canned pasta made in Italy. Fortunately, I liked it all. Their dad always ate at work. That solved his problem.

Shop keepers loved them. Both because they were blonds and because they were little boys. Girls were considered of much less value in their society. One of the shop keepers gave Craig 37

a camera when Keith went to look at a slide duplicator.

It was not an expensive camera, of course, but Craig was immensely proud of it.

One of his first pictures was of our friends’ dog “Inky.”

They were very easy to entertain. Each had a childsize suitcase which they packed with books and toys before leaving with me for a friend’s home. They would then unpack their suitcases and play in an out-of-the-way corner while I enjoyed chatting with friends.

I overheard them playing in the backyard. Craig was the king and Curtis the president. The president had to do whatever the king told him, or he would be fired. They picked up on a little news now and then and transposed it to make sense in their minds before creatively dramatizing it.

One day the two of them were building with tinker toys.

Craig brought his to show me, “This is my cannon.” His brother, not to be outdone, showed me his. “This is my Grand Canyon.”

I have no idea how he learned about the Grand Canyon.

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Craig Keith’s mom wrote this in a letter after our older son’s birth, “I’m happy clear down to my toes about our new little grandson. I wish I was there to cuddle him. I’ve been secretly telling myself it would be a boy.” Keith’s parents were equally thrilled with our second son’s birth.

Craig remembered both sets of grandparents well. He very much enjoyed visiting his paternal grandparents on the ranch each summer when we went back to the U. S. A. When he saw the neighbor’s turtle in Riyadh, he said, “Like at Gramma’s on the farm.” She marked their shells with nail polish so she could tell one from another. They came to the back door to eat as they knew she would put out hamburger for them. Another time when he saw a caterpillar, he said, “Daddy put it on Old Tom” (their yellow, tiger-striped cat).” I told him after it got very, very hot, we would get on an airplane to visit them. Before a friend went back to Beirut, Lebanon, we awakened our sons from naps so we could see him off. The very first thing Craig said when he woke up was, “Is it very, very hot?” He would also ask, “Will she have Frosty O’s?” We were very limited in our choice of cereals in Saudi Arabia. Or, as Curtis later called it, as a toddler “cero.”

Craig had a great memory. We would ask him peoples’ names when we did not remember. He also remembered events and answered questions when we did not remember the answers. When he was only three years old, he recited “Away in a Manger” during a preschool Christmas program.

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Intelligence was a strong suit, enabling him to understand beyond his age level. When he was only a toddler, I was ignoring him as I scurried about accomplishing what needed to be done. He was unable to get my attention. “Mom” was not working. He switched to “Marge” when he saw it worked with his dad and our friends. And it worked for him too.

His intelligence also enabled him to learn to read without our help. He learned by having us point to the words as we read to him. I realized he was ready and eager to learn, so I took an easy-to-read book, Frog and Toad Are Friends, to teach him. To my surprise, as I started to instruct him on how to sound out words, he read the sentence. His preschool teacher thought he had the book memorized, but he had never previously seen the book.

As a preschooler, I noticed a knot in one of his shoelaces. I started to untie it, but he quickly said, “Don’t do that. I need it to tell which is my right shoe.”

Craig declared his independence at an early age. He wanted to drag a chair into his bedroom to turn off the light.

When Keith helped him by carrying him down some stairs downtown, he decided he should do it himself. He pitched a fit until we let him climb back upstairs so he could climb down again by himself.

An interesting contrast to his independence was focusing on God when he was very young. I told him that it pleases God to hear him pray. When I put him to bed after the conversation, he asked again what pleased God. I told him that when you love people when you let them know that you appreciate them and when you share. He said, “Mom, I appreciate you and when Curtis grabs, I’ll…what WILL I do when Curtis grabs?”

He really wanted to please God but felt he had to be honest too. I told him I thought God would be pleased if he gave Curtis another toy his brother liked. Craig replied, apparently satisfied, “He really isn’t supposed to have my puzzles.”

Craig had a vivid imagination. After a visit to the grandparent’s ranch, he was wrapped up playing he was old 40

Curley, one of the steers. He would twist his leg around at a strange angle to kick us. When he found a nail out in the yard, he wanted me to stick him “into the chute.” He had seen his grandfather do that to have the cattle come out one at a time to be branded.

“Very opinionated” are words that describe our son. He insisted on choosing his clothes from top to bottom, telling me he did not want to wear a shirt because it was “too shiny” or something similar. I did not realize it was picture day at preschool so let him wear his favorite shirt and vest even though they clashed. Later I was horrified to see the picture. His Friday School (our church day as that was when Muslims did not work) teacher told me she would “tell the children ‘Jesus wants your clothes to match.’” That put the issue into perspective for me.

He was also very opinionated when I took him to the bathroom in a friend’s house. She had toilet cleaner, which turned the bowl water blue. He told me, “Not like it. Not like it.” all the time I suspended him over the toilet.

“That makes me angry.” There was no doubt he had an opinion on that occasion. We were in an ice cream parlor in the U.S. when he made that announcement. He was speaking of the yelling and drum pounding that occurred before the waiters sang “Happy Birthday” to another child. It was a great contrast to the quiet he was used to in Riyadh.

He expressed his opinion clearly when I sang him a song I thought he would find fun: I Know An Old Lady Who Swallowed A Fly “I know an old lady who swallowed a fly I don’t know why she swallowed the fly Perhaps she’ll die 41

I know an old lady who swallowed a spider That wriggled and jiggled and tickled inside her She swallowed the spider to catch the fly But I don’t know why she swallowed the fly Perhaps she’ll die I know an old lady who swallowed a bird How absurd to swallow a bird She swallowed the bird to catch the spider That wriggled and jiggled and tickled inside her She swallowed the spider to catch the fly But I don’t know why she swallowed the fly Perhaps she’ll die” The song continued repeating each animal each time: “I know an old lady who swallowed a cat Imagine that. She swallowed a cat.

I know an old lady who swallowed a dog What a hog to swallow a dog.

I know an old lady who swallowed a goat Opened her throat and down went the goat.

I know an old lady who swallowed a cow I don’t know how she swallowed the cow.

I know an old lady who swallowed a horse She’s dead if course.”

He told me in no uncertain terms, “I hate that song.” I had to agree that it was gross. It certainly did not agree with his soft heart.

That heart was expressed in a more poignant way when we babysat for a toddler who neither spoke nor understood 42

a word of English. He cried, and he cried, and he cried. I sat on the floor with him between my legs and tried to get him to play with our sons’ plastic animals. Craig was so upset he went to bed long before his bedtime, shutting the door to partially mute the sound.

Another day Craig was very, very excited as he came into the house: “Mom, all those worker ants are coming and carrying off that cupcake. I crumbled it all up for them.” “Craig, why did you do that?” “I like to be friendly to all animals. I like to be friendly to ants.”

His brother did not feel the same many years later when we moved into our home in Friendswood, Texas. He sat in a fire ant bed and was badly bitten numerous times even as we frantically brushed them off him. That species is very aggressive, something we had not encountered in Saudi Arabia.

In his early childhood, Craig’s spiritual understanding was a little lacking. Complaining about his mosquito bites, he said, “I hate for God to have made those kinds of things.”

I told him, “Well, that just shows God understands things we don’t, doesn’t it? God had a reason to make them that we don’t understand.”

His reply, “I wish I was a spirit.”

“So you could understand?”

“No. So I wouldn’t get bitten by insects.”

When Craig lost his first tooth, his dad teasingly told him that he had better hide his wallet as when you lost a tooth, the tooth fairy would come into your room that night and take your money. He did not fall for it. He was the last in his class to lose a tooth and knew the other children were getting money.

We gave him one riyal ($.33) each for the first two. He was hoping the top ones would bring more since they were bigger.

Even a spiritual discussion could be funny. Craig was a child who got horribly dirty if he went out of the house for even 15 minutes. One day he came back in and was so dirty I told him to wash immediately. As he was washing, he said confidently to me, “You don’t love me any less when I’m dirty. God just 43

gave you a dirty kid.” A short time later, he commented that Dr. Badr, a dear friend from church, was copying David because he was a man after God’s own heart. Keith asked, “Who are you going to copy in the Old Testament, Craig?” The answer, “Nobody. I don’t think there was anybody in the Old Testament who was that dirty.”

I was vividly reminded of God’s care when Craig was visiting a friend. The two were playing in the yard while I made a telephone call inside the villa. The friend held an iron bar.

Not realizing that Craig was standing behind him, he swung around and cut Craig in the eyebrow. It was less than an inch above his eye. Yet the only injury was a cut and a lump.

My own experience with the Lord began in Saudi Arabia as well. I joined the Bible study there as had been my habit in the States. Although I had been part of a Bible study in the U.S. we did not study the Bible. In Riyadh I joined a group studying Campus Crusade’s Four Spiritual Laws material. It included a very clear presentation of receiving Christ as Savor. I knew enough about God to know that when the Lord Jesus asked Him to “Take this cup from me.” (Luke 2:42, He would have taken the cup if there had been any other way. So one morning, as I was studying, siting on our bed with our two toddlers crawling all over me, I asked Him to be my Savior. He took me from a limited understanding to an intimate relationship with Himself, the living God. I became His child, a member of His family!

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Craig’s Schools We thought we had a place in the Riyadh International School for Craig to attend the 3-year-old group. He told me the first day he did not need help finding his room and was not worried at all about staying. After Craig’s first day, his teacher, who was also a friend, told us he went from sad child to sad child that morning, telling each how good and loving the teacher was. I was extremely disappointed when the school called to say they discontinued that age group. I was very much looking forward to it as he was eager to go to school even though he was normally afraid of other children. They would not allow him to join the 4-year-old group even though he would have fit there scholastically and socially. He truly was ready to go to school as he had already learned a great deal on his own. A friend helped in pointing out to me that Mary and Joseph waited until the Lord Jesus was 12 years old just like the other boys rather than rushing him ahead of His age group in going to the Temple.

We did find a woman who was starting a small group in her home. I was thankful for the extra friends for Craig and for the opportunity to have one on one time with Curtis. Craig did not seem happy there. We had not paid much attention until we took our trip to Kenya, Africa, and saw a much happier little boy. It brought to our minds the way it was nearly impossible to get him ready in the mornings without a big argument over his clothes, what to eat for breakfast, and so on. It seemed like he was using all means possible to keep from going. I realized the reason for his resistance when I visited the preschool. The teacher reprimanded him for laying his head down on his desk and expected way too much from little children. Not requiring him to attend increased his joy level.

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We became homeschoolers without ever having heard the term. Craig learned by working complex puzzles. I also taught both boys numbers using a deck of playing cards. Sort according to color. Later sort according to number. Still later sort according to numerical order. We also had many puzzles and books, which were an aid in our “school.” Not only did our sons learn, but it was an enjoyable way for them to spend time.

Sometime later, we saw God’s hand in getting Craig into Riyadh International School. Craig (in blue shirt with V-neck and school friends) Before leaving the country for vacation, we told the principal that we would be gone during registration. We asked her advice on how to hold a place so he could enter when we returned. She told us to wait until we got back. That turned out to be bad advice as there were two children ahead of Craig on the school list when we returned.

In a couple of weeks, one child left the class. That left only one ahead of Craig. Then, without another child leaving the class, the principal called to say there was room for Craig. We heard later he was admitted even though there was no place for him.

Someone heard from his nursery school how smart he was and what a help he was to the teacher. Children in the class spoke Arabic, Chinese, Italian, Swedish, French, and German.

Those who spoke no English when they entered kindergarten were fluent by Christmas. Children learn so quickly. We knew small children who spoke four languages: English, Arabia, the language of their fathers, and the language of their mothers.

One mother told me their children had mixed two languages in one sentence when learning, but there came the point when they were able to differentiate.

We received this note from his kindergarten teacher rather than a report card, “Craig is relaxing more at school and seems to be having more fun. You can see this physically when he is on the swings. He is often a member in make-believe games and usually takes the part of the bad wolf, the monster, or the big bull. He mixes well with all of the children and likes to establish the fact that Ann Charlotte is his friend. He is a very 46

sensitive little boy and will comfort another child who is upset, but in the same vein will be easily hurt if someone says an unkind thing to him as ‘Brook said she didn’t like me.’ He takes delightful pride in his knowledge of the alphabet and numbers, etc., but I hope he isn’t discouraged with his printing ability. As I mentioned before, he will improve as he gets older.”

His classmates at Riyadh International School were divided into several groups based on what they had previously learned.

His teacher told me most children learn to spell as they learn to read in their classrooms. Those who teach themselves to read do not learn spelling skills as well. For example, Craig wrote “stuff ” as “stf,” the way the word sounded to him.

When he missed four days of school, his reading teacher sent home his workbook over the weekend. He went through the workbook just like it was a dot-to-dot—20 pages a day--and finished it completely. It seemed to be easy for him, so I let him finish. He said his teacher was pleased when he returned it. He told his dad, “If I’m first in my class, I can be an astronaut like Virgil I. Grissom.” He had read his autobiography sometime before and been impressed. He always pronounced the name “Virgili.”

His loving attitude toward his classmates was amazing. A little girl there bugged him, constantly telling him she did not like him, etc. When the situation did not work itself out, I told him the girl missed her mother and did not understand her stepmother loved her. His teacher, a friend of ours, had given us that insight into what was happening. The next several days, he gave her crackers from his lunch. He told me, “Someday, I am going to tell her, “Brooke, love you.”

Craig, as a first-grader, had a crossword book about the Bicentennial, so he learned a little about history. I heard him and his brother playing Boston Tea 47

Party in our backyard. Craig yelled, “Throw it overboard.” and grabbed a box. We were all surprised to find six newborn kittens in it. My husband tried to make a better bed for them, but the mother came back and moved them all. We were relieved since it was difficult to give away baby kittens. There were numerous homeless cats running wild.

I enjoyed substitute teaching at Riyadh International School where Craig attended. While teaching music, the children learned “The Wheels on the Bus go Round and Round,” a song which included the words “the wheels on the bus go round and round, all over town,” “the driver on the bus says ‘move on back, move on back…” and so on through a number of verses each with a hand gesture. The song might not seem very mentally stimulating. I also taught them to follow the melody by moving my hand up or down to indicate the direction their voices should go.

Music was only one facet of what children learned in Riyadh. When I began substitute teaching in the U. S. I was surprised to learn that the elementary children did not know the difference between a state and a country. Living in another country broadens children as well as parents.

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Curtis Someone told me a baby bottle nipple could be split so Curtis could eat in that way. It seemed to be a good solution as, at that time, it was not proper to nurse on an airplane. When I bought a few jars of baby food in Saudi Arabia, I was surprised at how much that child was eating. I continued to make him meat with a blender as meat for babies was not available at Riyadh Supermarkets.

Not long after our move to Riyadh, I asked one of our new friends, “How can you tell if a child is intelligent?” She replied, “By how alert the child is.” He certainly was that.

As he grew older, he showed his intelligence. After Keith left early one morning, I crawled back into bed to sleep a little longer. When I got up, Curtis showed me two pages where he’d written numbers up to 100. I knew he could read numbers to 1,000. When he began kindergarten in the States, his teacher asked him to count as far as he could to help her place him in the correct group. When he counted on and on, she stopped him. He said, “I can count further than that, but sometimes it hurts my throat.” His nursery teacher in Riyadh worked with the children to teach them to add and subtract. Craig read him the directions in the workbook we bought. He would work out the problems he did not know with toothpicks.

At an incredibly young age, Curtis learned to put together puzzles by watching his brother, including the alphabet ones with letters on half the puzzle and pictures going with the letter on the other half. He knew the names of only a few of the letters 49

but could put together 12 of the puzzles without help. He knew which picture went with each letter. It surprised me he knew how to work them.

He could also hear the beginning and ending sound of words as he became ready to learn to read. It was just a short step after that to sounding the words out.

I will stop here to inform the reader that as they grew up, we emphasized to our children that intelligence was a gift from the Lord and that people had differing gifts and abilities. We did not want them to think that their intelligence made them better than someone else.

Curtis was easier to discipline than Craig because he was not so sensitive. When Craig needed to be disciplined, he usually ended up crying because his feelings were hurt. Curtis growled like a lion or told the parent, “I can’t do it.” He usually did what we asked eventually.

He came up with cute ways of expressing himself. Like when he wanted to bush his teeth, he handed me the toothpaste and said, “You take off the top and I’ll paste it on.” When he found it hard to remember to say “spaghetti” instead of “pasketti” he would remind himself by saying, “Ready, steady, spaghetti.”

“Spiders tickle me” was his way of expressing the feeling of his legs having fallen asleep.

I realized our son had differentiated between his left and his right hand when he was able to turn the correct direction when listening to a tour guide. I do not remember whether that was before or after we took a tour boat to show us the sights in Copenhagen.

After giving each of them a carrot, I found one on the floor.

I said, “Whose carrot is this?”

Curtis answers, “That’s a football, Mama.” Looking toward the future, I realized he was going to be a hard one to keep up with.

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It was not a bit humorous when he had a severe reaction to his DPT shot. That evening he was in so much pain he would scream when I pulled down his pants in the bathroom or put him into his pajamas. The next two days were bad as he suffered with fever, stomach pains, and the sore throat he got at the same time. It seemed like he cried most of the day just from hurting and feeling so miserable. He really did not have much fever, but I finally asked the doctor about an aspirin suppository just as a general pain killer. It seemed to turn the tide. By the next morning, he was much better. I told Keith, “Praise the Lord. He’s fighting with Craig again.”

As a child, Curtis was very sickly. He had pneumonia 11 times in 2 years. As I sat in the room by his side to give him company, I made clothes for myself and both our sons. I cut up old plaid dresses and plain colored skirts of mine that I could not wear for one reason or another and made shirts for our sons. There was beautiful material in Riyadh that was not costly, but nothing was appropriate for boys. All the Saudi males wore thobs. I also made Craig a pirate Halloween costume complete with a black eye patch.

One time when Curtis was ill, I decided not to take him to a doctor because no matter what was wrong, the doctors there seemed to want to prescribe medication. I had heard that too many antibiotics could make a person resistant to them. It turned out to be a poor decision when, after four days, I took him to a pediatrician. The doctor said, “He has pneumonia.”

The doctor knew allergies were the root cause, but it did no good to test in Saudi Arabia as the only allergens available were those from England. It was not until we returned to the U. S. that they were able to get the right tests and inoculations. He immediately felt better. I thanked the Lord each time I saw him run track in high school as I knew how far he had come.

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One occasion, the doctor recommended he stay in bed for four days. That left him very tired, both from the side effect of the medicine and from the fact his body was going through so much. The doctor prescribed an appetite increaser as it was all that could be done to help the situation. The medication’s main purpose was to treat another malady. An increased appetite was a side effect. It worked. He ate lots at each meal and between meals also. Our dear Dr. Badr sometimes came out during the night while his wife stayed up to pray for him. Curtis remained pleasant and peaceful during it all. One night when he heard a rattle in his throat, he told me, “Listen, Mom, I’m purring.”

When Craig and a friend living close to us heard he was going to be able to play outside, they broke into a spontaneous cheer.

We were able to see that Craig had a good time while we had to give so much attention to his brother. I knew it would be too much for me to try to keep him happy while I was trying to entertain Curtis in bed. God blessed us with friends who asked if they would take him to the desert. He had a great time.

When he asked if he could go to someone’s house to play after school, I asked a woman I knew well if he could go to their home. That led to us taking our children to go back and forth to each other’s homes. We both agreed it was easier to take care of our children if we had an extra one to help think of new play ideas. One of my ideas was turning all the living room furniture upside down to make little tents for them.

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Our Underground Church and Bible Study Nothing like Christian fellowship in Riyadh.

The Koreans were so very fervent for the Lord they invited some Saudis they worked with to attend our worship service.

The church leadership was forced to tell them they could not bring the Saudis as it would cause trouble with the Saudi government. One of them told us two missionaries went into their country 80 years ago. That man reported they have church services each morning at 4:00 or 5:00 a.m. All the really committed Christians attended. I recently met a Korean Christian in our area near Houston, Texas. That group also meets that early in the morning for prayer. I was told their prayers include prayer for our nation.

We Christians worshipped on Fridays, as did the Muslims.

Friday was the day off work. I very much enjoyed fixing a meal of tenderloin, which would cook in the oven while we were at church. I also made a dessert of various flavors of Jell-O combined with Cool Whip. Yes, we were able to buy Jell-O and Cool Whip in Riyadh. We had side dishes as well. Often we sang together after eating as a military friend played his guitar. One of our favorites was “It Only Takes a Spark to Get a Fire Going.” Ghada and Jirius Habash were some of our favorite guests. I remember him rocking their son singing hymns in English to him.

Jirius now pastors in Jordan. Our Egyptian friends remember saying, “Let’s all go to the Hendersons.” Our villa was large enough to comfortably hold us all and was not far from the U. S. military theater where we met.

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When I first came to know the Lord, Troy Bennett, a pastor from Beirut, stayed with us for several days. In the picture, he is standing next to Dr. Badr, holding a Bible. He would come to Riyadh a few times a year to hold services.

While we were at a social gathering, I kept going to him, thinking of question after question I wanted answered about my relationship with Jesus. He taught me that salvation is in three tenses: the past when the Lord died on the cross and came alive again, the present while we battle sin, and the future when we will be free from the presence of sin. I decided on the spot it would be a great topic for my funeral service if I go to Him before He comes again. I am voting for His soon coming.

“Maranatha. Come quickly, Lord Jesus.” (Revelation 22:20) We were blessed with having several men who were strong in the Word and its application as part of our congregation.

They taught in our Friday services when Troy or an Anglican pastor was not available. They also taught our Bible study. As a baby Christian, I was very eager to learn more. I over and over asked the Bible study leader questions. At a social event he told me, “We don’t have to talk about Jesus all the time.” But I wanted to talk about Him. I have a picture of Jiries Habash, Keith, Carlos Dulay, and myself (Marjory) at prayer group on a Sunday evening. Carlos’ favorite hymn was “Higher Ground.”

1st verse: “I’m pressing on the narrow way, new heights I’m gaining every day.

Still praying as I’m onward bound, ‘Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.”

Chorus: “’Lord, lift me up and let me stand by faith on heaven’s table land; 54

A higher plane than I have found. Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.’”

2nd verse: “My heart has no desire to stay where doubts arise and fears dismay; Tho some may dwell where these abound, My prayer, my aim is higher ground.”

3rd verse: “I want to live above the world, tho Satan’s darts at me are hurled; For faith has caught the joyful sound, The song of saints on higher ground.”

4th verse: “I want to scale the utmost height and catch a gleam of glory bright; But still I’ll pray till heav’n I’ve found, ‘Lord lead me on to higher ground.’”

We expatriates believed there should be worship around the world for the 24 hours that encompassed Sundays. That meant meeting on Sunday night for Bible study. Carlos Dulay was the most eager of our group to learn Bible verses. He became a self-appointed missionary to his country, the Philippines.

Shortly after leaving, we heard he had died. We wondered if he had been martyred but never heard. God tells us in the Bible: “Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of His godly ones.”

(Psalm 116:15) That described Carlos.

We sometimes were not the most enthusiastic of singers on those Sunday evenings. The man who led the singing once described the effort felt “as difficult as lifting an elephant off the ground.”

My wisdom did not match my eagerness. I invited a coworker at our school to the study, telling her that we were very open to various interpretations of Christian beliefs. That certainly was not true. Instead of giving her an interest in the Bible as I had hoped, she just felt uncomfortable when she attended. I know now that I need to witness with His wisdom.

Here in the U.S., that often involves asking a stranger, “Do you know how much Jesus loves you?” Since we live in the Bible belt, the answer often is “Yes.” I then ask that the person give 55

the tract to someone who does not know His love. If the person does not know, I say, “This (tract) will help explain it to you. I call it my grocery store ministry. ” Our sons stayed with us for prayer and singing time before our group Bible study. They really enjoyed it. Both participated in praying, suggesting songs, and singing. Everyone thought they were very cute. Our friends also recognized the seriousness with which our sons participated. And they learned with us. In a letter to Keith’s parents, Craig asked me to write, “We really love God’s Word.” It made us very thankful to have them in a situation where they not only had many “aunts” and “uncles” but where they were encouraged to learn about the Lord.

Our dear Arab sisters and brothers in Christ taught us two songs in their language: “I’ve Got the Joy, Joy, Joy Down in My Heart.” This is my best at phonetic spelling.

“Anna Ande Fara, Fara, Fara Fe Kelbe.

Fara Fe Kelbe. Fara Fe Kelbe.

Anna Ande Fara Fe Kelbe.

Fe Rabi Yesuah.”

“I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy Down in my heart.

Down in my heart.

Down in my heart.

I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy Down in my heart.

Down in my heart to stay.”

“I Have Decided to Follow Jesus”: “Asumti Anni At By Yesui.

Asumti Anni At By Yesui.

Asumti Anni At By Yesui.

At By Yesu Fe Le Regu.”

“I have decided to follow Jesus.

I have decided to follow Jesus.

I have decided to follow Jesus.

No turning back.

No turning back.”

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The second verse states, “If no one joins me, I still will follow.” As Americans, we can sing that almost glibly. It has a much more serious meaning for those in Muslim nations such as Saudi Arabia.

I picked up Dr. Badr’s daughter for our women’s Bible study.

It was an hour’s trip by the time I caught a taxi, made it to their place, then to the house for the study. I was very glad to do it because we loved her parents. They did so much for us. She could not go out in a taxi safely alone. And there was certainly a need to get out of her apartment. It was small, and at that point, two families were living in it.

She was a teacher in Beirut, Lebanon.

She was not used to being at home as much as she had to be in Riyadh or having the restrictions put on women in Saudi Arabia. We were able to meet the Badr’s son as well, as we dined in a restaurant overlooking Beirut.

They encouraged me to try frog’s legs which I found to have a chicken-like taste.

They both are in Heaven now. As our pastor here in Friendswood, Texas, terms it, “They’ve been promoted.” How wonderful that we who believe in the Lord Jesus do not have a spirit of fear (II Timothy 1:7) about what comes after death, but “the Spirit living inside us who calls out, “’Abba, Father.’”

(Galatians 4:6) He was a very modest man and would be the first to say, “Not that we are competent in ourselves to claim anything for ourselves, but our competence comes from God.” (II Corinthians 3:5) He truly “walked the talk” as the expression goes. He also “talked the walk” as he told others about our Savior.

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How very sad the Muslims all around us were afraid of what would happen after death. They believed at the end of a person’s life, Allah weighed good and bad deeds. Having more good deeds did not necessarily mean entrance into Paradise. That is something Allah randomly decides. A man who enters Paradise would be surrounded by many virgins.

The single guaranteed way to attain Paradise is to be killed in Jihad (religious war). What kind of security would that give a Muslim woman? “None at all” comes to my mind.

We had an opportunity to trust the Lord with our housing situation. For several months housing prices had gone through the roof. That is a truth as well as a pun. King Faisal, to keep the prices down, enacted a law stating a landlord could only raise rent 5% at the end of a lease. The only loophole was if a relative was moving into the villa. Many, many landlords used that loophole. An additional problem was that many American and English companies were moving into Riyadh.

Those companies did not care what they had to pay for rent.

As soon as the tenant vacated, the landlords raised their rents tremendously as they rented to one of the companies.

Friends of ours were renting a place for 1,300 riyals per month. The landlord told them he wanted 2,000 riyals. Everyone I knew received a call from his landlord. If the person was paying the rent, he and his family had to move as there was no way they could afford the increase. If one of the big companies was paying the rent, they would sometimes just pay rather than try to find another villa. Our company was paying much less than the going rate. I stressed over the situation for several weeks, knowing the Lord wanted me to trust Him. Over and over, I gave the situation to the Lord, and over and over, I took it back again. The landlord’s son, who could speak English, set an appointment with us. We prayed before he came. After he left, we were certain we would have to move and even had a place that would work in mind. Two downsides were there was no telephone and it was far from where I would have to walk for a taxi.

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The Lord gave us His peace. We prayed we would be able to tolerate the upcoming mess of a move. We decided to accept all the messiness without grouching. Then the landlord’s son called to say his mother would rent the villa to us for a smaller increase. At the same time, my husband’s boss decided to start paying exactly that same amount for villa rental. It was provision from the Lord’s hand. A short time later, a similar villa would rent for approximately twice what we were to pay.

After my husband changed companies and we were forced to live in an apartment, we again saw the Lord’s provision in our contentment in living there.

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Life in Riyadh City council meetings in Riyadh were vastly different than those in the U. S. In our country, whoever desires attends the meetings. There is much discussion which is later reported in local newspapers. The article in the Riyadh newspaper read, “The Riyadh City Council met today and discussed numerous items.” Not very informative. But it really did not matter as the Saudi government was a monarchy in which the king made all the laws.

The royal family would discuss who would succeed a king who died. The Sudairi Seven, the families of the seven wives of the first Saudi king, often were part of the group that made the choice.

Another difference was in the appearance of homes. The Saudis lived in villas surrounded by 8-foot walls with sheep and goats outside the gates. Sometimes there was a street in front of the villa. At other homes, there was only a vacant lot.

The villa in the picture was under construction, so it had no wall. Americans lived in homes with no walls, with people walking by on sidewalks and driving by on streets. Our home in Friendswood, Texas, has no surrounding walls.

Arabs are proud they contributed “zero” as the digit used to represent that number in numerals. You can view Arabic numerals in the black circle of the clock face. Corresponding numerals familiar to us are below each of the Arabic numerals.

I still remember the names of the numbers one through ten: Wahid, Itnan, Talata, Arba’a, Hamsa, Sitta, Sab’a, Tamaniya, Tis-a, Ashra. It is amazing what the mind remembers and what it does not.

Arabic script is interesting in that it is written right to left unlike the left to right used in the western world. My 60

husband learned to write “U. S. A.” in Arabic. That enabled him to address envelopes, something usually handled at the Ford Foundation office. Arabic script has become an art form although not easily seen in the script on an envelope. It is more easily noted in the brass “Salamalekum” wall hanging in our family room. That is the traditional greeting upon meeting someone. Even more artistic is the gold coin that my husband’s boss and his wife gave me just before we returned to the U. S. Dr. and Mrs. Badr gave me a necklace with a gold picture of the Saudi palm trees. What generous friends.

Prices were hard to understand as, on one day, two similar things of different brands were vastly different. The next day the more expensive might be reversed to be the least expensive. Food from Europe and the U. S. were quite costly. Fruit and other produce from the Middle East were approximately the same as in the U. S. We developed a taste for eggplant as one had to eat what was available. Items such as Pepsi-Cola, produced in Saudi Arabia, were cheap. All items were purchased with riyals and girsh. Ice cream was terribly expensive. So, as Keith wrote his parents, “We tried some dried stuff from Denmark. You add milk to it.

It was pretty good, so I checked the ingredients. All it said was, ‘Contains all necessary ingredients.’”

My sister Maisie visited us in Riyadh. It was great to cook together. I would prepare the main part of the meal while she oversaw the extras. My favorite was homemade, deep-fried onion rings. There is much love between the three of us sisters.

The photograph from left to right shows Maisie, me, and Shirley. When she was a baby, our mom would put a pillow across Shirley and my lap and let us hold her that way. We were 61

only a few years older than she was, so that was a safety factor.

We would argue about who got to hold her head. I remember how proud I was to see a picture of her looking so cute in the window of a photography studio because the photographer thought the picture was an example of the quality of his work.

I cannot remember whether I had ice cream for my birthday or not. Keith did give me a special silver-colored gold ring in an unusual pattern. Gold was so reasonably priced that people bought many pieces. When seeing a piece of gold-colored jewelry in the U. S., it was assumed that it was not truly gold. In Saudi Arabia, the assumption was that it truly was gold. And it was 21 karats, not the 18 karats that is used in the U. S. I bought two gold bracelets which I later gave to our two daughters-inlaw.

During that time, there was a problem getting bottled gas for our heaters and kitchen stove. Such a strange thing for Saudi Arabia as they burned off the gas from the oil wells. There was a problem with prices as well. The sequence was: The merchant raised the price. The government made them lower the price. The merchants were slow getting new supplies from the refinery. The price went back up. The dealers got around the price freeze by forcing people to buy new bottles rather than filling the old as had been done previously. Fortunately, we had plenty of gas in reserve. Most people ran out during the cold spell and could not buy any.

We decided to spend part of the money we made while working in Saudi Arabia on items unique to the area. Keith and I alternated choices. One was a Kuwaiti chest. The chests were about 4’ by 18” by 18.” The origin of the name came from the sailors from Kuwait. During their long trips at sea, they carved or hammered round brass nails into the top and sides in various geometric patterns. Ours was from India rather 62

than Kuwait. We chose it because of the abundance of hand carving. The chests were also functional. They held the man’s possessions while he was at sea.

Another of our choices was a painting by a Lebanese man of the mud houses lining a street in Riyadh. Keith said it was a very accurate depiction. Only one thing was missing. There needed to be goats eating the garage along the side of the street. Another purchase was an Asahi Pentax camera.

A man from the office (American) and his wife (Lebanese) served us our first Arabic food. It was excellent. The main dish was rice with chicken and almonds.

Squash stuffed with meat and seasonings, a pastry flavored with parsley and a salad completed the meal. I enjoyed the salad very much because it was difficult to get lettuce. We did not have salad often. Our host said his wife had been preparing the meal since noon. It reminded me of a friend who said her maid wanted her to buy roast beef. She would then chop it into hamburger rather than buying hamburger already chopped. They were certainly not afraid of hard work. Although not served with the meal, we enjoyed tabouli which was to become one of my favorites. It took much time to prepare as the main ingredient was finely chopped parsley. I was thankful to find it in a kit when we moved to Texas, although it did not have as high a percentage of parsley.

People in the U. S. often ask if Keith and I lived in a company compound. The answer is “No.” I very much preferred it that way. I wanted to be submerged in the culture rather than living as closely as possible to the way we would have lived in Longmont, Colorado. An additional plus was getting to know neighbors from different nations. There were the Canadians I mentioned in my previous book As Living Stones: My Five Years in Saudi 63

Arabia, as well as neighbors from Egypt, Saudi Arabia, and Turkey. It was interesting to see differences as well as likenesses in people from various nations. We learned, for instance, there was more than one way to raise children successfully. One evening when eating with friends, I commented there are various ways to raise children who become adults who function well. I further commented that the British raise their children in a way different than Americans. Our British guest’s response was, “They send their children away to boarding school, which results in the children sending their children away to boarding school.” That comment saddened me as we were in the process of raising children and enjoying them ourselves each day.

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Fun Times in Riyadh We had fun times as well as the struggles that arise in a culture completely different from the one in which we grew up.

The countryside was very barren, but a fun time was a desert picnic with church friends. Left to right are Gadah Habash, Dr. Badr, Keith, Jairus Habbish, Harvey, and Carolyn Dove.

Sometimes it was being lifted into a hole during one of those picnics. Sometimes it was a climb up/slide down time on a sand dune. Sometimes for Keith, it was gathering with some Saudi farmers. Sometimes it was birthday parties. . Sometimes it was playing bridge with friends. Sometimes it was sand volleyball. Sometimes it was attending the school program of our older son. Curtis and I are just right of center in the picture. Sometimes it was attending camel races. Sometimes it was touring a villa being built behind ours. Sometimes it was a trip to the Souk Sometimes, it was sand volleyball. Sometimes it was traveling to exotic places as when we saw the pyramids and the Sphinx. Sometimes it was even attending the wedding of King Faisal’s daughter.

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Jesus our Savior Our best, most important memories of our time in Saudi Arabia were of Keith, me, and our older son receiving the Lord Jesus as Savior. Just before he came to know Jesus, my husband wrote a letter to his mother. “Mom, I am starting to think more about God, church, prayer, and it makes me feel good.” Our small underground church was an especially important part of Riyadh for our family. Our group varied in age, nationality, and language. We had little in common apart from our religious faith. In that group, the Lord built us into His spiritual dwelling.

As He tells us in I Peter 2:5: “You yourselves as living stones, a spiritual house, are being built into a spiritual dwelling….” Thus the title of this book and the one proceeding it.

I was the first of our family to realize Jesus had died on the cross and come alive so I could be forgiven for my sin. I had been in what was called a Bible study before moving to Saudi Arabia but we studied other books rather than the Bible. It was not until I joined the Bible study in Riyadh that I understood my need for a Savior. We were studying Campus Crusade’s Four Spiritual Laws material. There was a very clear presentation of receiving Christ as Savior. So one morning as I was doing my Bible study homework sitting on our bed with our two toddlers crawling all over me, I asked Him to be my Savior. He took me from a limited understanding of God to an intimate relationship with Himself, the Loving Savior. I became His child, a member of His family!

I was first, then my husband, then our older son, came to know that the Lord Jesus suffered and died on a cross to pay the price for each of our sins while we were in Riyadh. My husband immediately had a hunger to read the Bible. Craig repeatedly asked me to tell them that it was the fourth nail—the Lord’s love 66

for us--which kept Him on the cross when He could so easily have avoided that horrendous pain. Christ cannot be regarded as just another good man, or even another great prophet in a long line of prophets culminating with Mohammed as Muslims believe. Christ claimed to be God. As C.S. Lewis wrote, “We must either accept Him on those terms or reject Him as a liar or a lunatic.”

In a Christmas card to his parents sometime after receiving Christ as Savior, my husband wrote, “I wish we could do more to return Christmas to a spiritual celebration rather than a commercial event with Santa Claus being more important than Jesus.” He became the leader of the prayer group which met in our home. That involved asking each person for his/her requests then assigning a person to pray for each. Using “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened” (Matthew 7:7-8). He led our Sunday evening Bible study one week when the regular leader could not attend.

He did a great job asking the questions, “How do you learn to give?” “How do you learn to give first?” and “How do you learn to give from your need instead of your surplus?” You can see we had some Oral Roberts input during that time of our lives.

Craig was only three years old when he received Jesus as his Savior. Not long after, he suggested that my husband write to tell his parents, “I sure like God’s Word.” He wanted to do a daily Bible study from a book of children’s Bible stories. They were written for children of junior high age, so I read slowly so he could absorb the material.

Not long after, he dictated the following letter to his Gramma, then signed it in his preschool printing, “Dear Grandma, How is Christmas going over there? Is winter there, and is the snow falling? I got some puzzles with little, tiny pieces. I have them put together already. They are pictures of Hansel and Gretel, the Wizard of Oz and Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. We have our Christmas decorations on the tree.” What he described as a 67

Christmas tree was only a desert bush with whatever we could find for decorations in the grocery store. The stores did have a few possibilities and the expatriate-oriented stores even wrote “Merry Christmas” on their windows.

Although our parents were not saved during our time in Saudi Arabia, I want to include each of their stories as that is the most important moment in each person’s life. The Lord deals with each of us in His perfect, individual way. Pop did not come to know the Lord until the end of his life. At that point, he was in a nursing home. The activities director told us later, “It is easy to tell who knows the Lord and who doesn’t.

I purposefully befriend those who do not. I told Alfred, ‘The ladies here say you are not going to live long. I then told him my salvation experience and then just talked and talked until I saw a change in his countenance.”

I do not have detail on his mom’s salvation experience, but when I sat with her in the kitchen on the farm to explain receiving Christ, she replied, “I’ve already done that.”

My daddy’s was a death bed conversion. My sister had talked to him about the way to salvation. His response had been, “What if that isn’t true?”

She responded, “It is true, and if it turned out to not be true, at least you would have done the most you can do to respond to Him.” In the Lord’s provision, she had been released from the hospital a day earlier than expected after the birth of their second child. My dad and mom had decided to start their trip from Fort Collins, Colorado, to Albuquerque, New Mexico, a day early as well. Daddy, having a tough time with his asthma, was very weak. He collapsed on the way. Mom wanted to take him to a hospital, but he insisted on continuing the trip. He collapsed again after arrival, and my sister’s husband helped him into their home. She began to pray for him aloud and held his hand while her husband phoned for an ambulance. They knew he had heard because when instructed by the ambulance driver, he took his glasses off. When he was unresponsive in the hospital, they eventually removed life support. None of 68

us heard him say he had received Jesus as Savior. My sister’s mentor assured her and me through her, “With the extent the Lord went through so you could talk if there had been a need for him to have been able to talk more about salvation, the Lord would have provided that as well.”

As with Keith’s mom, I do not know much about my mom’s salvation experience. Just that she said she had received Jesus when she was in junior high school.

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Unayzah Business Trips After spending a week in Beirut, Lebanon, which was helpful in adjusting to a new part of the world, we were on our way to Riyadh and Keith’s travels. One was through the desert of sand dunes with sand-laden, blowing dust and camels to the small town of Unayzah some distance away.

The picture shows a typical main street in Saudi Arabia.

Keith would later see a place where water flooded the area, a rarity. There were 4050 drowned sheep.

Working there, then driving home made an exceptionally long day after experiencing that inconvenience once, he decided that future trips would include an overnight.

Later during a three-day trip to Unayzah a hotel manager happily informed him they now had hot water. The same manager was proud of planting barley in front of the building instead of grass so that they would not waste water on a lawn.

That really made sense in the desert. The picture shows a farmer’s field before planting.

The restaurant in Unayzah was not the best. The soup was barley with chunks of camel meat and pieces of sheep stomach.

The restaurant itself was a small building with a dirt floor, tin walls, and wooden benches. My husband said, “I did not bother to inspect the kitchen. I think it was an open fire out back.” One of the men working in the hotel found some fruit, bread, and cheese but eating the same thing three meals a day was very tiresome. My husband did better in finding some canned meat, 70

fish, and stale cookies. Adding to the delight was that canned goods were always out of date. That is sarcasm on my part.

They did take breaks at times as well as meals.

The Arabian American Company (ARAMCO) published an article about the Ford Foundation agricultural project.

It included pictures Keith had taken in a wheat field near Unayzah.

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Other Business Trips Besides frequent trips to Unayzah, my husband also traveled to an area about 85 Kilometers (50 miles) south which had natural springs. It also had more than an adequate amount of water for irrigation. That area reminded Keith of southern California, where he had been stationed in the army, as it had many palm trees and shrubs. There was a problem with poor irrigation and salty soil. He also saw a little stream following rain in that area. That was a rarity.

Another area my husband visited was Abha in the Asir Provence, which was rough country with mountains about 8,000 feet in height with rugged, steep, rocky valleys. The people farmed up on the hillsides by terracing the land into small flat benches going down the slopes and in the valley bottoms. They grew much wheat and barley on the terraces, which looked beautiful when compared to the dry desert around Riyadh. The area was heavily populated and the people extremely poor. A large group of people had accompanied the

Deputy Minister of Agriculture, Tahir Obeid on his inspection tour of the area. Much time was spent socializing with farmers rather than strategizing programs to help them. The area had

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been neglected, but one of King Faisal’s sons had been recently sent as Amir, “sort of like a governor,” my husband said. He was trying to develop roads, schools, social assistance, and so on.

King Faisal had a dream of enabling Bedouins to leave their incredibly difficult lives in the desert where they lived in tents during summer days, often over 100° and sometimes very low temperatures in the night during winter to become farmers. Haradh was to be that place. My husband traveled there many times. He visited with Hani Akhad and Frank, the farm manager at the Haradh Agriculture Project. Fifty-two wells about 3,000 feet deep each pumped about 1,200 gallons per minute to irrigate the fields. The water table was dropping, which foretold future problems. Some experts estimated that it would take ten years to get the project off the ground. The construction and engineering work was done by two German companies. Their contract time was very limited.

The Saudi government would then be on its own. My husband thought that if the Saudis spent enough time and money, they could get something to grow. “I don’t think they will ever get the Bedouin nomads to settle down there because it’s just too complicated.” That proved to be the case. That and the vast culture change that would be needed to go from a nomadic lifestyle to a town.

There were also Arabian Naji sheep to be raised at the Haradh Agriculture Project. They certainly do not have the soft, fleecy look of sheep in the U. S. The project at the El Hassa Oasis was bigger than Haradh in area. It was an improvement of existing farmland. The water was

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from natural spring water, which bubbled to the surface. Several thousand people lived there. They even had towns and roads.

My husband humorously entitled a picture “Number one agronomist in all of Saudi Arabia” when he sent it to his family. Actually, he was the only agronomist.

What an unusual sight for Saudi Arabia. A small lake seen by my husband on a trip to the Asir Mountains in Abha. The picture shows him with Con Stucky, his boss, and two United Nations Food and Agriculture workers. While there, 2 ½ days of bad wind made it almost impossible to work. My husband found a willingness among the people to stick it out. His description, “The more you are around such a place, the more you see how impractical someone who doesn’t understand the entire operation can make it.” And the waste of money. Fortunately, the money was not Ford Foundations.

The land was laid out in nice little blocks with concrete irrigation canals and drainage ditches. That made it very difficult to get into the place with machinery and tractors, “especially with fellows who were just learning to drive a tractor,” reported my husband. Because of the leveling and terracing of the land, there were places that had been scraped down to rock and gravel, which were so hard you could not work the area. Right next to them were piles of sand so soft that you could barely drive an empty tractor across without getting stuck. “They are using brand new International 946 diesel tractors, and they are a little bit too complicated and powerful for beginners,” Keith wrote. They were trying to drill wells and build a dam for additional water, but nothing worked. Also, in Abha, a driver was given the nickname Barny Oldfield. When he was told the nickname, he just drove faster.”

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A group which included Tahir Obed, deputy minister Saudi of Ministry of Agriculture, my husband, and a group of others was in Abha to view the growing conditions for the Mexipak wheat. Sometime later, two agricultural experts from the U. S.. went to view apple orchards in the much better climate for their growth than most of Saudi Arabia provided. The orchards were overrun, badly in need of pruning. The Delicious apples were just that-delicious. Upon being told the trees needed to be pruned for greater apple production, the Palestinian who was the equivalent of a county agent in the U. S. sadly replied, “You know that. I know that. But if the prince caught us cutting off one branch, he would cut off my head.”

Returning from a trip to Hail by plane, Keith could see dust moving along the ground in a bad wind and dust storm that lasted a day. He realized it was probably causing considerable damage to their wheat crop.

My husband was pleased with the new Massey-Ferguson drills for sowing wheat, which worked well once the bugs were worked out. Most of the machinery was shipped disassembled, necessitating someone in Saudi Arabia putting it together. He felt incredibly lucky if all the pieces were there, even if they were not in the right places.

He knew his pop back on their Colorado ranch would have had a real blast watching them farm. “They all go full speed ahead and never look back,” my husband wrote. “Last week, a fellow planted about 10 acres of ground with about half the seed spouts plugged with trash. After about half a day, he looked in the drill box and saw it was still full of seed. A skilled mechanic with the proper tools would be worth a lot on a job like this. I can fix a few things, but I don’t know how to weld or use a lathe,” he said.

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The instruction manual, which was written in German, was translated into Arabic by Keith’s counterpart, who was Pakistani. That meant his native language was Urdu. He was very valuable as he not only could speak three languages but could also type in Arabic and Urdu.

The counterpart brought my husband a three-legged stool with an inset design. Beautiful. A great addition to our home 45 years later.

Just outside Riyadh was Dirab, the experiment farm. My husband oversaw plots there. They grew about 200 different varieties of sorghum and millet, so it was a rather large job even though the plots were small. Our sons and I liked to go with him since there were also horses and cattle. One time during the trip home, our car became stuck in the sand. My husband put boards under the wheels for traction. I drove while he watched to see the process went smoothly. That was the only time I drove in Saudi Arabia where driving was illegal for women. Under other circumstances, it would have been fun. Some women did go out to the desert to drive.

Along the main street, the city of El Kharj looked like southern California with its palm and orange trees along the road. The rest of the town was very similar to the rest of Saudi Arabia. It was mostly mud buildings, sometimes with a street 76

and sometimes not. From left to right are Diver Mohammed, Dr. Musa, Dr. Kikngma, Egyptian crop specialist and Keith in field of wheat near El Kharj.

During one of the thrashings, a piece of wheat got stuck in my husband’s ear—what a threatening thing to happen. A large quantity of wheat had fallen as he crawled under a combine to repair it. He stayed under to complete the job. Crawling back out, he found wheat everywhere in his clothing. As he brushed himself off, one piece got stuck in his ear. A few hours later, it became painful. “Wonder if there is a doctor anywhere around?” he asked himself. His counterpart, whose job it was to translate for him as he traveled, was the one who found the Pakistani doctor. Appointments were unheard of in that part of the world. Fortunately, he just walked through the door and was seen. They flushed his ear. Out came the bothersome wheat kernel. The cost was amazing. Nothing. The doctor was there on orders from King Faisal under the Ministry of Health. Who says socialized medicine does not work? It does work much better when the king pays for it rather than taxpayers.

Introducing a new variety of wheat with higher yield and reduced need for hand labor was an aspect of my husband’s job. All the farmer supplied was a well. He anticipated getting numbers of farmers to plant and grow the new wheat. They all said, “We know about the good yield and like the wheat.”

They then complained, “We cannot afford fertilizer, do not have the equipment to harvest the wheat, the prices are too low,” etc. There was much truth in their arguments. There was also a stubbornness combined with mistrust and fear of trying something new. The Ministry of Agriculture tried to help by lowering the price of fertilizer and raising the price of wheat. The wealth of the Saudi government enabled it to subsidize all the plans.

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Some of the farmers were feeling a little high classed and were “graduating” from tractor driving. On the opposite end of the scale, some experiment station workers went through the drudgery of hand planting as the seed had to be changed every 10 feet. Putting the right seeds in the right pockets was accomplished before planting, so all the work did not have to be done on planting day.

People from the king’s palace came to the Ministry of Agriculture requesting the use of some of their equipment to level land to keep the dust down around one side of the palace grounds before planting alfalfa. My husband went to help them. During that process, the Royal Agriculturist gave him a tour of the grounds. They drove around inside the walls then to one of the reception rooms to have tea. Keith took off his shoes and brushed off some of the dirt. Then he had a “spot of tea,” as the British would say, in King Faisal’s palace.

As a friend of mine said about another friend, “She deserves to have the table groan.” In this case, it was the ground groaning with fruit showing the farmers’ appreciation for my husband. You can see how generous the Saudi people were in that despite their poverty, they had a spread of fruit and vegetables for Keith and their Ministry of Agriculture visitors. The farmers, at times, would have a “goat grab” for him. Such fancy eating. He has not eaten goat once since he returned to the U.S. Another goat grab was held at the Agriculture Experiment Station for a man from Massey-Ferguson Company who came for one week to go over the operation and maintenance of their equipment. My husband later said, “It was a great help to me, but I don’t know how much soaked into the Saudi fellows who are going to operate some of the combines. Some farmers do 78

not want their fields combined. They want it to be harvested by hand, picked up, then have a combine come to thrash it for them. They do this to keep all the straw. Some years they get a good price for wheat straw. Some of the combines are fixed up to put the wheat in bags rather than in a bin. That much wheat coming out of the spout keeps 3-4 men pretty busy filling and tying up bags.”

And what did I do when I was afraid of being left in the villa when my husband was gone? I dressed our sons and myself very warmly so I could turn the noisy air conditioner on high and not hear any other noises. Actually, I was probably safer there than I had been in the U.S. Decapitation and cutting off a hand does tend to deter crime.

His frequent travel was a challenge for me as it was against the law for women to drive. As a result, I was dependent on taxis which were sometimes not easy to find. There were rumors that women would soon be allowed to drive, but that did not come to pass until about 45 years later. In the meantime, I rode safely in a taxi by taking one or the other of our sons with me when I went somewhere. The Saudis thought of us as loose women since we did not cover ourselves in black from tip to toe, although we did dress very conservatively. They had much more respect for mothers, especially if they were mothers of sons. One taxi driver asked if our children were walid or bent (boys or girls). When I replied, “Wali.” He said, “Quess. Moffi bent. Moffi bent.” (“Good. No girls. No girls.”) Sad situation.

It seemed necessary to take a break from Saudi Arabia occasionally, so our sons and I went to Beirut with Keith when he attended a wheat conference. Every advisor working with wheat in North Africa and the Middle East region was invited.

It included people from the Ford Foundation, Rockefeller Foundation, the Food and Agriculture Organization branch of the United Nations, as well as national scientists from various countries. It was great to see the modern stores and people, especially women dressed in fashionable clothes, and to have 79

a snack at a sidewalk restaurant. There was most definitely a sense of freedom for women that we did not have in Saudi Arabia.

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Business Trips Outside Saudi Arabia Keith also visited farmers outside Saudi Arabia. He described Khartoum, the capital of Sudan, as “a mixture of traditional African village and city.” The pace was slower than Cairo, Egypt, where he had recently visited. In the long run, the potential of that country was greater than Egypt or Saudi Arabia, especially in agriculture.

During a trip to Cairo, Egypt, he floated by the pyramids.

Keith and other men from work who made the investigative trip to Sudan were pleased with the tremendous amount of rich uncultivated land with lots of water. An additional encouragement was realizing all the help it could give to hungry people in the world. He wrote, “On the trip, so many things happened at just the right time.

Extra help arrived just when it was needed. God was giving us help.” One example was his friend from work being at the airport. He was waiting for a man coming in for our small, underground church. While he waited, he began to talk to another man. It turned out that the other man had a book on agriculture in Sudan, which he loaned to Keith’s friend before the trip.

While in Iran, they found that they could buy oranges from Israel. That was a treat as in Saudi Arabia, anything from Israel was banned. Near Isfahan, Iran, their speeding taxi driver hit and killed a goat as it crossed the road. The herders were furious. One of them made an on-the-spot decision. He ran into the road and slit its throat, wanting to assume the goat was alive when he cut the throat. He could not have eaten a dead 81

goat as it would be an offense to their religion. The herders would not let my husband and his co-workers go until they paid his price, over $300. When they returned, they listed the goat as part of the expense report they turned in to the Ford Foundation.

Having an Iranian authority involved would have been very helpful, but no one would speak with them as tension between the U. S. and Iran was very high. My husband and his co-workers said to each other, “We better get out while the getting is good as they may think we are spies.” Since their tickets to return to Saudi Arabia were not for two more days, they went to the brass Souk to kill time. Items there were sold by the kilo. My husband bought a pitcher and a few other items for souvenirs and gifts. His friend, Harold Stults, brought a large crate full of brass items which he checked in his baggage.

While in the rug Souk in Shiraz, Iran, a merchant took two of Keith’s co-workers to look at rugs. My husband was not interested in rugs, so he sat down to rest. He started to move a paper weight so he would have a place to sit on the corner of a beaten-up desk. He noticed it was very, very heavy. Without thinking, he picked it up and saw a stamp imprinted on the back. The Swiss bank stamp indicated it was one kilogram of gold. He swiftly put it back, looking to see if anyone had seen him handling it.

A friend from Ford Foundation took our sons and me to the airport so we could greet Keith when he returned home.

When the friend offered our older son a stick of gun, he replied, “I don’t like gum.” That was new to me. He is more than 50 years old now and still does not chew gum. As teenagers, if our younger son wanted to irritate him, he breathed gum unto his face.

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Frustrations and Challenges of Working in Saudi Arabia It was easy to be frustrated as there was much to overcome.

One frustration faced by my husband was he and others being sent to work with influential, rich farmers rather than the poor who were supposed to receive the help.

There was also a problem when the big irrigation pump broke. As my husband wrote, “Getting it fixed is enough of a problem. You need to find materials, not an easy task. Then you have to wait for someone to approve of the repairs that were made.”

But there were other frustrations. A frustration was solved when some of the Ford Foundation bosses came from Beirut and held meetings with the Saudis. They established the fact that Keith was the boss and all the other advisors from Egypt, Pakistan, and England were just to give advice. That prevented them from making decisions my husband knew nothing about. Many delays were caused by transportation problems.

Sometimes the tractor drivers did not bother to even come.

Other times it took a day to change oil since one never knew where oil, filters, and permission could be found. Then one had to find the man with the key to the tools. A small part of the problem was obliviated when Ford Foundation sent a complete set of tools from Lebanon.

A challenge was there were only five combines to harvest the 60 farms, which would all be ready for harvesting at the same time. After harvest, the prices of wheat varied greatly from shop to shop, with every miller having his own favorite type of wheat for which he charged more. Much of their wheat was imported from Canada and Australia, with bigger bakeries 83

importing flour rather than wheat. King Faisal was extremely interested in the nation being self-sufficient in wheat. That would be protection against any possible boycott. It was a big chore as pita bread, a staple in their diets, required a great amount of wheat. Keith was hired to help expedite that goal.

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Positives of Working in Saudi Arabia My husband liked to socialize with the farmers, although it slowed his work considerably. They wanted to talk, have coffee, then dinner, and talk some more. He found the country people seemed to be more relaxed and humorous than city people. They would gather around eating in a “goat grab.”

The goat was put in a pot and boiled. Had we settled in Syria or Lebanon rather than Saudi Arabia, we would have eaten very tasty meals. The Saudis, being desert dwellers, cooked in as easy a way as possible. While eating, they talked loudly about anything that came to their minds. During one visit, the group all took off their shoes and went inside the farmer’s mud reception room. His expensive rugs, pillows, and furnishings showed him to be prosperous. My husband did not give or receive the traditional kiss on each cheek. Each person drank quhwa, the strong, cardamine-flavored coffee served in tiny, decorated glasses with no handles. In other situations, servants filled and refilled the glasses until one indicated he wanted no more by curving the fingers on the right-hand palm down and making a left-to-right motion. Extremely sweet chi (tea) was served in a tiny clear glass with a handle. The same sign was given when one had all that was wanted. Keith tried his best to convince the farmers to try iced tea. It was difficult work. They did not have to do much talking to get him to eat watermelon and cantaloupe while sitting side by side on both sides of a luxurious handmade rug laid on the sand of the desert.

Some years the wheat harvest was bountiful, with an average yield of 80-90 bushels an acre. One year they expected a yield of 100 bushels which would be a record for that part of the world. It required much fertilizer and water. A farmer told my husband, “I made enough money to buy a new wife.”

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Another asked, “Is Jesus in the Bible?” When told he was, the farmer said, “When I read about Him in the Koran, I just cry.” Of course, Muslims believe Jesus was just a prophet like Abraham and Musa (Moses), but that farmer was sensing His power.

A once-in-a-lifetime experience that very few have been able to experience was having a part in sending small Juniper trees to Germany for the 1972 Olympics. Each country sent its national tree for planting on the site. Saudi Arabia had only one native tree, the juniper, which grew on the mountains in the south. They could not send any soil because of possible disease problems, so Keith suggested that the roots be put in peat moss.

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Weather In Riyadh, the weather was sometimes strange. In 1972 there was a downpour for about ½ hour with 2 inches of rain.

There were no drainage ditches as they normally were not needed. The result was cars stalled from wet wires causing huge traffic jams. Hundreds of men with brooms and mops tried to sweep water out of parking lots and low spots in the street. Usually, it was so dry that if I saw a small cloud, I called to our sons to look.

The weather was most definitely a downside of living there as the temperature sometimes reached over 110 degrees. As one stepped outside one, felt as though all the body’s liquid was being siphoned off. The king and government officials each summer would move to Taif and its cooler climate. In a letter to his parents, my husband said, “It won’t be long before we turn on our air conditioner and start complaining about the heat.” Our sons seemed to be able to deal with the heat well, even playing in the backyard at times. My husband, being a Colorado farm boy who sometimes experienced blizzard conditions, not so much.

One morning Curtis asked me if he could take his coat off.

He was wearing it inside since he wanted a short-sleeved shirt.

He suggested going to look at our thermometer. I told him, “It’s 70 degrees. Do you know what people in the States say when it’s 70 degrees? Let’s turn on the furnace.”

He asked, “What is a furnace?” There were certain words that just were not in his vocabulary.

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Heat can make the desert an extremely dangerous place.

One of the Ford Foundation families and some other Americans took two carloads of teenagers and adults for an outing. One car got separated from the other and became stuck in the sand.

They were stranded in the desert from Friday afternoon until Sunday morning without food or water. A plane spotted their car early Sunday morning when some of our friends were about to join the search. Everyone was dehydrated but healthy.

Another day might very well have meant death.

Our sons’ first-time seeing snow was in my mom’s backyard in Fort Collins, Colorado. There was enough of it that they were able to make snow men and forts. What a treat.

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My Husband’s Co-workers When the Ministry of Agriculture through the Ford Foundation hired Keith, they also hired some with expertise in other areas. Purchasing, supply, transportation, importing, exporting, education, and better business management. There were to be about 20 men hired. Some became our closest friends.

A few of the friendships have lasted more than 45 years. That has been the case with Carolyn and Harvey Dove shown in the picture.

A man hired to work in Economics, and his wife, Harold and Ruth Ann Stults were raised just a few miles from my husband in Colorado. Since they went to different schools, they did not meet until Saudi Arabia. In another extremely unusual occurrence, two ladies who had performed synchronized swimming in the U. S. met in Saudi Arabia after not seeing each other since high school. The Lord has some fun surprises for us.

Emma Hawari was the Ford Foundation secretary. She was an indispensable co-worker to me (Marjory) as well as the men.

Her help to me included reading my first Christmas letter from Riyadh; I did not want to write anything that sounded critical, especially since it would probably need to pass government censorship. She was a German married to a Saudi, so she was able to explain some of the customs to me as well. She stated, “Everyone should spend a night at the Bristol Hotel in Beirut, Lebanon, since it is frequented by thieves and has mob activity.”

A day later, the American newspaper reported a diamond theft in that hotel.

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Some of the co-workers were Saudis. Among them were Abdulla Jeffrie, Saied Omed, Abdulla Turkey, Ibrahim Baghdadi, and Abdul Raman Ohalie. Ibrahim once asked Keith, “Which of your sons is your favorite?” It was easy to see that he had no children. Those of us who have children know we value each as an individual and have no favorites.

Abdul’s mother, totally dressed in black, occasionally rode back to Riyadh with her son and my husband after visiting friends or relatives in Haile, Saudi Arabia. She spoke not a word of English. He spoke just enough to communicate. The names of the Saudi co-workers make me smile because of the good memories. Quite a contrast when the names are compared to my husband’s American co-workers John, Harold, Harvey, Bill, and Harry. The picture shows Abdul Raman Ohalie comparing two stocks of wheat.

Keith reports a funny conversation between Mussa and Ali Saed Ahmed.

Both were Egyptians. Ali said he wanted to bring something back from Cairo, Egypt, for Mussa. Mussa replied, “I need nothing.” Ali asked again. Again Mussa replied, “I need nothing.” Ali declared with emphasis, “If you don’t tell me what you want, I’m going to cancel my trip.”

That conversation was like instructions given in A Muslim’s Heart by Edward J. Hoskins: “In the Middle East, when someone says something only once, it is usually a polite statement or request, but it’s not intended to be fulfilled. The person on the receiving end knows this. To an Arab, repetition intensifies a request. If an offering is genuine, it will be repeated. At that point, you can feel free to either gently refuse or accept. Either way, honor, generosity, and hospitality have all been affirmed, and that’s the key in Muslim culture.” Ali took it a step further.

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Mohammed was a co-worker, although of a different kind.

He was our gardener. On a cold day, I loaned him my coat which looked suitable for a man. When he returned it, he brought a very unusual bracelet which he had purchased in the Souk. It had a Don Quixote theme. The clasp was very interesting—a screw that held both parts together.

The Saudis themselves were not hard workers. Most of the labor in construction and road-building was accomplished by people from Yemen, Syria, and Ethiopia. Many of the businesses were run by people from Europe or Lebanon. The Saudis held office jobs and spent a good part of their days smoking and drinking tea and of course praying if they were good Muslims. They did the best they possibly could in having come so recently from living in tents in the desert and were blessed in being able to afford to pay others to do the work.

My husband’s boss occasionally went to the U. S. to hire more people. Some of those already working for Ford Foundation wished he would not continue to hire because it seemed like more men and projects than he could manage well. But our underground church greatly benefitted from the men he hired on a trip to the U. S. Although the boss did not know the Lord, we prayed he would hire believers in Jesus. He did. We had new friends. At a company party, Keith and I met a newly arrived couple. Afterward, my husband told me the new man had come from Tucson, Arizona, where we had lived during the years Keith worked on his Ph.D. I told him I had even better news. They were both believers in Jesus. Spending time with them helped us grow as baby believers. I tend to use the word “believers” rather than “Christians.” That was the distinction made by our Arab brothers and sister in Christ, indicating someone who truly followed Jesus rather than just being born into a line of Christians rather than Muslims.

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Job Change When the contract between the Ford Foundation and the Saudi Ministry of Agriculture ended, the man who had headed the Ford Foundation started his own company. We were pleased as he knew how to organize and manage despite the backward ways of the Ministry of Agriculture administration.

There was an additional advantage in that he had contacts with the high officials in the Ministry, so problems and suggestions got more attention.

The move from the Saudi Ministry of Agriculture was made easier by the Saudis who worked with my husband. They had learned enough to take over his duties, teaching the farmers.

That is the goal of advisors, working themselves out of a job.

My husband and several others moved on to work on a project with the Chase Manhattan Bank obtaining information on six Middle East countries concerning agriculture developmental potential. They were to write reports for the Bank, which would be sold to companies in the U.S. that were potentially interested in working in the Middle East. The set of books would cover Egypt, Sudan, Syria, Iraq, and Iran. The books sold to the companies for $9,600. Two men would go ahead of them into each country to make hotel reservations and set up appointments with the ministers of Agriculture and other knowledgeable men.

Keith lost his truck due to the change in occupation. The truck was replaced by a small Fiat. His boss teased him about keeping the bill of purchase on his side window. When Keith commented that it was because he wanted everyone to know it was new, his boss jokingly replied, “That’s why the Saudis do it, too.”

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He would sit in the front seat of the car to drive. I would sit in the back in case one or the other of our children needed something. That arrangement bothered an American friend married to a Saudi a great deal. It spoke to her of the multiple Saudi wives riding in the back of their husband’s pickup.

The job change made it necessary for our family to move from our large villa to a much smaller apartment. We toured it to make certain it was the one we wanted. They showed us one, which was a mirror image of the one in which we eventually live. The result after our move was me repeatedly entering the room opposite the one I really wanted to enter. It took some time for my mind to adjust. Pretty funny.

Everyone in our family agreed that we liked it better than our former apartment. Praise the Lord. He knows what we need to make us content. There was no telephone. It did not look as impressive to live in an apartment. There was less privacy.

But our sons were so happy to have a playmate approximately their age. I very much enjoyed having someone to chat with.

There were four apartments, two housing single men and one with the family. Unlike the villa, the men were even able to take turns mowing the lawn.

Without help from our dear friends moving would have been almost impossible. Moving vans? Not in that culture. Our friends helped all day. She even made dinner and supper for us then kept our sons overnight because all our clothes were lying on their beds. It still took us two full days to accomplish the task. And a week to unpack, hang pictures, and all the rest involved in a move.

The apartment was horrible by U. S. standards. There were several holes in the walls covered by painted metal plates.

There was also a hole approximately one-inch square in our living room where they did not buy a metal piece large enough to fit. The doors did not fit the doorways, so it was difficult to get them to close. It was not a problem to find good carpet material. The problem was getting it correctly laid. Most workmen just did not care how things looked. Our carpet was 93

about 1½ inch too narrow along one wall. There was a small strip of carpet to fill that area. The Yemenis who laid the carpet laid it at right angles to the rest of the carpet. Their attitude was, “Something is better than nothing, so do not complain.”

That is easy to understand when one realizes that not all that many years ago, the Saudis lived in tents. The Yemeni who did most of the work were in the country to send money to their families who lived in poverty. Beautifully laid carpet was not in their frame of reference either.

The kitchen sink was the worst. It had only one section and was only several inches deep. There was no stopper which meant Keith would need to spend time running around trying to locate one. My solution: put a dab of soap into a small bowl, dip my sponge into it, leaving the water running until the job was completed. At least there was no water shortage as we had sometimes experienced in the villa. And the upside was that I used the dishwashing time to memorize Scripture. After moving back to the U. S. I lost the time I had spent memorizing—until the dishwasher broke. I purposely did not get it repaired for some time. Now I memorize as I walk.

The boss and his wife decided that it was wise to move from Beirut to Riyadh because of their frequent trips to Saudi Arabia.

The week after Keith’s boss arrived, his wife had emergency surgery performed by our dear Dr. Badr. Having a policy of charging according to a patient’s ability to pay, he asked our advice on what to charge the boss. We advised him to charge a large amount. We were so thankful to have him as the surgeon as the operation revealed that the appendix had burst. All the infection had to be siphoned off.

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Riyadh Navigation As you can imagine, navigation in a town of approximately ½ million people, which had very few paved streets or street names or numbers, was exceedingly difficult. Giving directions might include “Turn left at the round building and proceed until you come to some goat pens. Then turn right until you come to the building with the red roof ” and so on. It was often best to just follow friends to their villa the first time.

It also helped to have a sense of direction. Keith’s had always been very good. I lost mine when we moved from my hometown in Colorado, where I could see the mountains to the west. Keith’s was accurate until we drove through a vacant lot close to our villa. He said the directions always switched in his mind as he crossed the lot.

Sometimes it was not necessary to have a sense of direction. The typical countryside shown in the picture consisted of only highway and dessert. There were only two directions one could go.

The desert reminded me of Moses taking the people from Egypt through the desert to the Promised Land. Oases were very appreciated, whether by the Hebrew people or the Saudis. In Exodus 15:27, God tells of the 12 wells of water and 70 palm trees in Elim where they rested. What a relief to find water and shade in the midst of the desert.

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Is the Saudi Arabia version of “condo on the beach?”

A humorous experience was Keith seeing a policeman in downtown Riyadh write the license plate number of a traffic violator on his hand. That did not work well, so he just rubbed it off onto his uniform.

We were excited when soccer teams from Kuwait and other Arab nations came to Saudi Arabia. Not because we were soccer fans but because the National Guard was called to line both sides of the road from the palace to the airport, a distance of 3 to 4 miles. It was quite a sight to see them in their Bedouin dress with rifles and bayonets. The next time we saw the National Guard, it was at the time of grieving after King Faisal’s murder. It was a sad time for expatriates as well as Saudis. King Faisal was very loved by us all.

The National Guard also lined the street when Henry Kissinger made the trip to Saudi Arabia for the purpose of Arab-Israeli Peacemaking. Kissinger had two primary goals: 1.

Support Israel’s claim to the land it gained following the June 1967 Six-Day War. 2. Decrease Soviet influence in the region.

There was an oil embargo after the war. Determining a solution became a high priority in the international arena. Kissinger was able to accomplish his two primary goals and the Arab states called off their oil embargo. A church friend acted as an interpreter for Kissinger.

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How to Pray for Your Children I would have received help raising our sons if I had the list a woman who mentored me in the U. S. gave me after our return.

We do pray for our children and grandchildren with this list at times.

• That they will know Christ as Savior and Lord early in their lives. Psalm 63:1; II Timothy 3:15 • That they would have a hatred for sin a discernment in recognizing it. Psalm 97:1 • That they would be caught when guilty. Psalm 25:11 • That they would be protected from the evil one in each area of their lives: spiritual, emotional, physical and mental. John 17:15 • That they would have a responsible attitude in all their interpersonal relationships. Daniel 6:3 • That they would respect those in authority over them.

Romans 13:1 • That they would desire the right know of friends and be protected from the wrong friends. That they would be the right kind of friend. Proverbs 1:10, 11 • That they would be kept from the wrong mate and saved for the right one. II Corinthians 6:14-17 • That they, as well as those they marry will be kept pure util marriage. I Corinthians 6:18-20 • That they would have the vocation of the Lord’s choosing. I Corinthians 10:31 • That they learn to totally submit to God and actively resist the devil in all circumstances. James 4:7 • That they would be singlehearted, willing to be sold out to Jesus Christ. Romans 12: 1,2 97

• • •

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That they would be hedged in so they cannot find their way to wrong people or wrong places and that the wrong people cannot find their way to them. Hosea 2:6 That they would learn to discern between the voice of the Shepherd and the voice of the thief and robber and always obey the Shepherd. John 10:1,2 That they would love the Lord with all their hearts, souls, minds and strength. Mark 12:29-31

Friends While playing bridge with friends, someone mentioned a new play in the United States, “Fiddler on the Roof.” It was about Israelis. An American friend who was married to an Arab said, “An Arab should write a play.” When I told my husband about the conversation, he commented, “But they could never agree about how the chapters should be numbered.” Pretty funny.

Dean, Hazel, and Atina McCrary were wonderful friends to us. Pat Stucky, Con’s wife, and Hazel McCrary met us at the airport when we first arrived in Beirut, Lebanon, in a state of exhaustion. They helped us go through customs, not a small task. When they had us over for a meal, Atina gave us some of the books she had outgrown to Craig. Dean even went on to Riyadh with us to help us settle in there. Hazel always cooked pork roast for us when we visited, knowing we would be hungry for the pork that was against the law in Saudi Arabia. I still have the delicious sauce recipe that she used.

Some of our closest friends were Fred and Carole Freeman.

This was their Christmas card one year after we all returned to the U. S. You can tell they had wonderful senses of humor. He led our Bible study group. They were both wonderful witnesses for the Lord to those around them. After a hospitalization, 99

Carole said she realized why the Lord had put her there. She was able to witness to her roommate. As they say, “She was my Bestie” (best friend). I learned much from her. He told us that when he became a believer in Jesus, he asked friends to no longer use his nickname. It was “Lucky,” and he had come to know that good things do not happen because of luck, but because of our wonderful Lord’s provision.

When a friend was ready to serve food to her guests, she asked me, “How do you get people to come to eat?

My reply, “Most of our friends just say, ‘Let’s pray.” We both smiled as it would have been very foreign to those there as they did not know the Lord.

A friend who had converted to Islam when she married a Saudi told of taking medication in the dark of night only to find that she had taken something that was dangerous for her. I asked if she was comforted by her faith, thinking that would not be the situation. She said she was. I guess a belief in anything helps, although it is only the Lord who is able to make a difference in the situation.

The people living in the apartment above us provided friendship to both me and our sons. Even though it meant they were forced to play with Barbie dolls. When some of us were arranging to have our children go Trick or Treating at each other’s homes, she said, “I don’t like Halloween.” I did not understand her wisdom at the time but certainly understand now. Witches are real and they do consider Halloween to be their holiday. I saw the deep seriousness of the situation when our sons were attending a Christian college in Texas. Someone phoned the school and said, “We want a blonde girl for sacrifice.” Truthful or not, the statement revealed the mindset.

I do like what Ray Comfort says about Halloween. He calls it “National Evangelism Day.” And that can be true. This year we are giving our Trick or Treaters coloring books I ordered from wmpress.org. The pages tell the plan of salvation from creation through Heaven. What the devil desires for evil, God can use for good.

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Humor Upon arriving in Saudi Arabia, we learned the Arabs could not make the “p” sound. They used a “b” sound as a substitute.

It resulted in the humorous expression, “That bisses me off.”

Our children’s paternal grandfather tended to be pessimistic.

That was combined with a wry sense of humor. In complaining about the lack of rain they were getting on the ranch, he said, “Brophy (a neighbor) always gets more rain than we do. The raindrops turn flat on our side.”

Craig had me read over and over the letter telling the stories on the record his grandparents were sending. I was glad that Snow White was included as he had been on a dwarf kick.

He had his brother wear his coat with a hood and he wore his coat as they pretended to be dwarfs. He was the more fortunate as his was not a heavy coat like his brother’s. He pretended to be Doc. Curtis kept going “achoo” for Sneezy.

When he was a little older, he told me about a conversation between Mary and the Wise Men, “The Wise Men said, ‘Take this gold for the Baby Jesus and put it on the high shelf so he can have it when he gets bigger.’ Mary said, ‘You can put it in the manger; I don’t think He’ll bother it.’”

A friend and I (Marjory) taught the younger children in Friday School. The Muslims worshipped on Friday. We also did as that was the day no one worked. The children ranged in age from Curtis through first grade. One week Curtis and a four-year-old boy sat squeezing and kissing during the story.

Craig and another boy got into a fistfight during the coloring activity. Boom Boom socked Craig. Craig socked Boom Boom.

Boom Boom socked Craig again. Curtis said, “Be kind to one another,” the memory verse the children had memorized a few weeks before. Very amusing. Quite an appropriate comment.

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Both touching and humorous was Craig telling his dad, “Daddy, I like you. Are you cute?” It really made Keith feel good.

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Very Sad Story We experienced sad stories in Riyadh as well as humorous ones. One of the saddest involved a houseboy we hired. We found him to always be honest and reliable as well as very fond of our children. Jaffa even let them ride the vacuum cleaner as he vacuumed. We hired him to babysit for us one evening.

He brought his two wives. He began arriving at people’s homes late for work. After about two weeks, he went to the Ford Foundation office to return a Ford Foundation employee’s key.

The secretary called me to see if she should accept the key.

She said he was talking all crazy. The people there who spoke Arabic said he was mad. One of the gardeners had seen him someplace with a bunch of cologne bottles. He was drinking it for the alcohol content. The secretary gave him taxi money and sent him to a free hospital. It was not enough help as he later died of drinking the cologne—what a sad life and death.

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Christmas Letter 1971 My husband wrote. “It is really hard to get in the spirit of things here because of the weather, which is still very nice with warm days and cool nights, lack of Christmas decorations and Christmas music on the radio and all that stuff. Many of the stores have candles, decorations for trees and homes for the few Christians that live here. We received cards from a few people already. I guess I should warn you not to send any more packages by air or by boat. There have been just too many cases where they have been lost, stolen, or damaged. It happens during shipment and during clearance by customs.

All packages must clear customs. One package hasn’t arrived that was sent a month ago. Another arrived in 8 days, so you just never know. Please just save your packages until we get home.

“Marge made a chili supper for those who work with me at Ford Foundation and their families. Everyone brought a little gift so we could exchange at random. I got a little pocket notebook and Marge got a ring with a big glass stone, cheap but quite pretty.

“We probably won’t do much for Christmas as we have only one day off. I found a pretty, nicely shaped bush out in the desert and spray painted it with silver paint to make us a Christmas tree. We got some tinsel strings to put on it and set it on the coffee table in a can covered with red wrapping paper.

It looks nice. Several people at the party commented on it. One or two places have tapes with American music, but they are quite expensive and the selection of songs is not very good. We pretty much count on recording each other’s music.

“We intended to buy a tape recorder as a gift to ourselves but decided to postpone it because of the devaluation of the U. 104

S. dollar. The exchange had been 1 dollar for 4.48 Saudi Arabia Riyals, but had become 4.12 riyals. As we were paid in dollars, we hoped the Ford Foundation would give an increase in our cost-of-living allowance.

I gave Marge brass candle holders candles, a small brass gong with the symbol of Saudi Arabia engraved on it and some plastic bowls that look like Wedgewood. A funny story connected with them was the merchant told me that he was not going to buy any more. “People buy them all and then I have to order some more.” He was not materialistic. She got me a puzzle, ballpoint pens, a fancy candle, and a subscription to National Geographic.

“Marjory went shopping with a friend to get presents for our sons Craig and Curtis. Our sons enjoyed their gifts the first Christmas in Riyadh, although they were certainly nothing extravagant. Craig had a hard time distinguishing between his presents and Curtis’. Curtis liked everything and tried to put each gift into his mouth. I got a tractor for Craig from his grandparents since he associated it with the farm. He also got a chalkboard and chalk, puzzles, pajamas, two pairs of long pants, and four pairs of socks. Curtis got a small stuffed animal, an abacus, a tiny telephone, and a rattle with bells in it.” Looking at the list certainly shows they were not spoiled. The picture shows Curtis with his gifts at a more prosperous Christmas.

It was our first year in Riyadh when we took presents from the U. S. When we went back to the U. S. we went to a toy store. I thought our sons would find many toys they wanted.

They found very few. They had learned to be very satisfied with what they had. I think that is good for all of us. As the saying goes, “The rest is gravy.”

“I just thought of an incident which shows how much influence some people have. A wife of one of the Ford Foundation men was flying from London to Riyadh. The Saudi 105

crown prince who is next in line to the king was also going to Riyadh. At his request, the plane flew non-stop from London to Riyadh, skipping scheduled stops in Germany, Switzerland, and Lebanon. The plane arrived in Riyadh 5 ½ hours early with only a handful of people on it. All the people who wanted to get on or off at the other cities were just left out.”

We did not know when my husband told the family how to send a telegram that would be needed when my daddy passed on. The address was “Fordri, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia.” Probably due to incompetence on the Saudi’s part, the telegram never arrived. The news came in a letter from my mom. In the Lord’s provision, a good friend was at the office when my husband read the letter. Keith was able then to help me when I read it.

We telephoned my mom. It was the clearest telephone call we made. We were able to hear each other well. My husband was ready to take me home immediately. Mom suggested we wait a few months, that she would need me more at that time. I was comforted to know my sisters lived much, much closer than Saudi Arabia.

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Christmas Letter 1972 “After living here over a year, I thought it might interest you to know what the Saudis seem to be like--in many ways, they seem to be quite different from Americans—and to hear about the ways in which our lives have changed.

“We find the people to be very curious. All summer, we had to have water delivered from trucks like those that haul gasoline in the U. S. Some of the drivers just could not restrain themselves from looking over our sons’ toys. One day two men, three women, and a young girl came to look at the house. They did not speak a word of English. The only word I could understand was “flus” (money). They acted like they were certain they’d be welcome inside so, when we weren’t getting anywhere in our communication, I called Riz, the Lebanese man who the office hires just to see that everything goes smoothly. He said they were thinking of buying a house, then they apologized and said they were going to leave. They must have stayed another 20 minutes touring our yard satisfying their curiosity. Then they went outside. The women wanted to look around the yard. The men kept calling them, but I said “molish,” an expression you often hear meaning “Don’t be concerned; it doesn’t make any difference.” They looked at Craig’s tricycle, saw him ride, and left.

“The storekeepers, as well as the general population, are certainly not materialistic. I have the feeling sometimes the shopkeepers in the Souq (a shopping area with hundreds of one-roomed stores with open fronts) are down there just as an excuse to watch people. They sit on their front steps. By the time you get to the third shop, they all bring out the item you’ve been looking at. Then they remember you months later.

They each throw the money into a metal box, then dig around 107

in it to make change. The lack of focus on material possessions probably stems from their Bedouin, nomadic days when it was impossible to take much with them. Wilfred Thesiger, in his book Arabian Sands, writes about the tremendous respect they had for a man who had given away ALL his possessions.

Sad as it is, many seem to be more fervent in their practice of religion than we who worship the One True God. That, too, is from Bedouin times. Almost every statement is qualified with “enchallah” (if God wills) You also hear a great many “alhumdeallahs” (“Praise be to God.) A common greeting is “Monahaba. Ka folic? followed by “Quess. Alhdeallah.” (“Hello, how are you?”) (“Well. Praise be to God.” The matawa (religious police) go around with canes rapping on the stores reminding the storekeepers to close for prayer time. They also at times rap a woman on the leg for wearing too short a skirt, anything above the knee.

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Christmas Events One year I (Marge) agreed to substitute as a music teacher just before Christmas. It gave me a very uncomfortable feeling as I was completely inexperienced, not only in Christmas programs but in teaching music. And on top of it all, the principal suggested a program of 40 minutes in a room that sat 200. WOW. Fortunately, the other music teacher came to the rescue. She suggested we combine the second through fifth graders (her group) with the kindergarten and first graders (mine) and have the program for two nights. It really went very well. We had the Christmas story read from the Bible while the kindergarteners and first graders acted it out and the older children sang carols.

The kindergarteners and first graders also sang some simpler songs alone in the program. There were almost 120 children in that group. Result: many proud parents, a satisfied principal, and a music teacher who was ready for another assignment. A second qualified music teacher moved with her husband just at that time. I went back to the substitute teaching that was much more satisfying for me. It was a good time for me to get back into that role as they were so desperate for substitute teachers that on some days, the nurse, the librarian, and the secretaries had to teach, as unpleasant an experience for them as being a music teacher had been for me. How did I transport myself on the days I taught? The school driver would pick me up before school and take me home after. As my mother would often say, “Where there is a will, there is a way.”

I have no fur coat. Cyprus was the best place to buy one.

We missed our trip when Curtis became terribly ill with the flu. He did not eat anything for three days. All our Christmas pictures showed his very red face. We were not tremendously 109

disappointed as we had not really been looking forward to the trip. We got some much-need time together. Keith’s busy work schedule had been hampering that. We were thankful to see Curtis had more energy Christmas morning. He opened his gifts and played a little bit before he got tired and laid down.

Craig had a good time. He is one who very much enjoys giving as much as receiving. He gave presents to several friends expecting nothing in return. The first thing both did Christmas morning was run to get presents for my husband and me asking us to hurry and open them. Craig did very much like to open presents. He would sometimes give the friend his gift then take it back to open it for him. We let him open most of the presents.

Keith’s presents were a short-wave radio, some pajamas I made, and a subscription to Newsweek magazine. He got me an electric mixer, some pajamas, and a pair of soft slippers. We planned on spending money from his parents while we were in Cyprus as shopping was limited in Saudi Arabia.

After making certain our children understood Santa Claus was pretend we took both sons to a party our church group organized for 75-80 children. They ordered little gifts from New York City to give some variety from what one could find in Riyadh. Craig went around the room saying “Ho Ho Ho” to everyone and telling them he had a bag full of gifts and a beard. His present was a small wood tool chest with plastic bolts. Curtis got stationary which was really for an older child.

Craig commented that Santa “Made a ‘stake” (mistake).

We made a very wise decision in telling our children that Santa Claus was pretend. I have since met two people who told me when they stopped believing in Santa Claus and the tooth fairy, who their parents said were real, they stopped believing in Jesus as well.

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Islam Abdu Murray, a former Muslim, agreed that many Muslims—particularly those in the West — simply do not adhere to many of the commands of Islamic scripture. “I can’t tell you how many Muslims are nominal at best,” he said. “They are [only] cultural Muslims. If it were a crime to be an orthodox Muslim, they couldn’t be convicted of it.” That’s why he says it’s important for non-Muslims to note well the difference between Islam — the actual religion left by Muhammad, which calls for violence toward nonbelievers and a full political ideology — and Muslims — those who say they follow Islam. “We have to understand there’s a spectrum of Muslims,” he said. “They hold their worldview with a varying degree of tightness.”

Even the Islamic scriptures themselves are conflicting.

At various places within the Qur’an (the Islamic holy book, written by Muhammad), the Hadith (sayings of Muhammad), and the Sunnah (doctrines of practice lived out or advocated

by Muhammad) violated women. Mohammed himself took a six-year-old bride and consummated the marriage when she was 9-year-old.”

Islam is a religion of law. Christianity is a religion of grace.

The Lord Jesus taught love for all. Brother Andrew and Al Janssen wrote an acronym for ISLAM in their book Secret Believers: “I Sincerely Love all Muslims.” Using an interesting technique as they wrote the book, characters are composites of more than one individual. The main character is Ahmed, who lives in the typical Arab town, Suq al Khamis. The authors state: “Every part of the book is true though in some situations we have filled in gaps based on input from friends who live and minister in the Islamic world.” The reader is encouraged to “join a new kind of jihad, leaving vengeance behind in favor 111

of forgiveness, radical love, and unyielding prayer.” Jesus states John 10:10 “I have come that they might have live and have it more abundantly.” (John 10:10) This Scripture is pictured in Arabic in Secret Believers is a very good read. It is informative, challenging, and fascinating.

A Muslim background believer (MBB) who learned that Jesus is God rather than just a prophet has a newsletter, “Jesus to Muslims.” It states, “It is interesting to compare what Christians and Muslims believe about the future coming of Jesus. Both believe that He will return. Christians believe that Jesus will return to earth in like manner as He left (Acts 1:11) “...with the souls of our departed loved ones.” (I Thessalonians 4:13-15.) And that “He is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see Him” (Revelation 1:7) The additional purpose is to judge the world: “I charge you in the presence of God and of Christ Jesus who is to judge the living and the dead…” (II Timothy 4:1) Muslims think that Jesus will return as a prophet to help an Islamic leader to establish Islam universally. Later, he will take a bride, will have children, and then will die and be buried next to Muhammad’s grave. What a contrast.”

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Muslim Holidays Hajj was the holiday during which Muslims visited Mecca.

It is one of the Five Pillars of their faith. They believed that obeying the Pillars would give them Allah’s approval. Hajj lasted about a week. No work was done during that period.

It usually took several days for all the Saudis to go back to work afterward, so it was a good time for us expatriates to take vacations. It was a great time to be able to see sites (and sights.) in various nations. One year we went to Kenya. What a beautiful nation. I have never had the desire to visit Hawaii as I know it could not be more beautiful than Kenya. One day our sons and I toured the grounds while my husband went to explore the city. He went into a small shop to have a shirt made. They measured him. Zip, zip, zip, and he had a new shirt. Some time I later I washed it and zip, zip, zip I had a new shirt. Evidently, they do not preshrink in Kenya.

During the month of Ramadan, Muslims fast from the time a dark thread can be distinguished from a light one in early light until the evening when the threads can no longer be distinguished one from another. They also do not drink any liquid, which is quite difficult when Ramadan occurs during the summer. The holiday is determined by a lunar calendar which is 28 days rather than a Gregorian Calendar, which means the dates change each year. After the fast was broken in a traditional meal each evening, the Saudis did not go to bed but ate and socialized, then went to work at 10:00 or 11:00 a.m. It became a great problem to get even simple jobs accomplished.

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It really made a difference for our houseboy. He usually ate at noon and drank coffee, and smoked almost constantly. I would think it would be extremely difficult to stop the eating and drinking with little sleep during Ramadan. One provision was the office hours all changed. Keith could not even get into his office at the Ministry of Agriculture at the normal time, so he sat downstairs and tore stamps off envelopes for my Mom. He did not mail our letters himself as he had been told that if a person wanted to maintain any confidence in the postal system, it was better to stay out of the post office.

My husband was invited to eat the traditional meal that broke the fast with his work friends, a sign of their respect for him. After the fasting, there was a six-day holiday when businesses were closed and there was much feasting and celebration. Those days were like celebrating Christmas and New Year. People gave presents, visited relatives and had big family dinners. Shopping was particularly good that time of year since all the merchants had their best and most complete stock for sale. Stores stayed open until 12:00 or 1:00 a.m. Many of those building roads or houses worked all night instead of during the day since they could not eat or drink even in the oppressive heat. We saw three men building a house by the light of just three light bulbs. Keeping that schedule meant there was not much accomplished workwise other than physical labor.

We were among them.

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Our Travels Traveling was never easy. We often would have our children sleep in their clothes, so we did not have to dress them before leaving for the airport quickly. One year returning to Riyadh after vacation in the U. S. we rushed in desperation, fearful of missing the plane, then found we had 40 minutes before it left for Chicago. Then we waited an hour in Chicago before we were off to Paris, France. That was more time for tired kids to want something to drink, to need to go to the bathroom, and what seemed like a hundred other things.

We arrived in Paris to find the airline had lost one suitcase and we did not have a hotel reservation as well as nearly having our reservation from Paris to Beirut, Lebanon, canceled. We were glad to see things begin to turn around when Air France helped with finding a hotel as well as delivering our suitcase to the hotel the next day.

The 7 hours difference due to time zone added to the difficulty. We would advise our sons not to try to get back to sleep when they awakened during the night. The time difference was just too great. They were very easy children to raise and were content to sit on their beds and look at comic books. In that way, parents and children were able to sleep when they could. I wish I still had those comic books. As they were in many different languages, a collector might pay me a good price for them. That was house cleaning I should NOT have done.

We found it best to set our watches immediately to the new time zone. The next morning we would take a tour bus. It gave us an idea of what we wanted to spend time visiting. We toured Copenhagen, Denmark, by boat. On one tour, I learned Curtis knew the difference between his left and his right. He would 115

turn in the correct direction when the tour guide indicated.

In earlier years, I once entertained him by reciting Dr. Suess’ book: “Hand, hand, finger thumb. Dum diddy, dum diddy, dum diddy, dum” over and over to keep him content and seated. At the same time, my ears were pealed, listening to what the tour guide was saying. It was not unusual for the guide to speak three or four languages. We learned that generally, only Americans and the British spoke only one language.

Upon arrival in a new city, we also checked with the desk clerk for directions to a church. One of our favorites was in Beirut, Lebanon, where a dear friend taught a Sunday School class. He told us he felt rather uncomfortable leading those who taught Bible at the University of Beirut. The only sermon I remember was given close to New Year’s Day: “Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4: 13, 14) We enjoyed extended stays in Munich, Germany, London, England, Nicosia, Cyprus, Copenhagen, Denmark, Cairo, Egypt, where we saw the pyramids and the Nile River, Barcelona, Spain, Jungfrau, Switzerland, Nairobi, Kenya, and Mexico City, Mexico as well as the U. S. A. Details are in my previous book As Living Stones: My Five Years in Saudi Arabia. An additional memory is of Hyde Park in London, where we listened to speakers standing on soapboxes. My husband remembered that, although I did not. In some ways, our memories are completely different.

I do remember that some of the hotels tempted us by putting soft drinks and candy for sale in the small refrigerator in the room. Some of the fancier ones even left a chocolate on the bed. Free.

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Seeing the Harbor of Copenhagen in Denmark by tour boat was a delightful experience. The guide pointed out the statue of the Little Mermaid, a fountain with a statue of four bulls, as well as buildings. If you look closely at the picture, you can see my husband Keith and our two sons seated in front of him. I (Marjory) took the picture.

While visiting family in the U.S., we traveled to Mexico City, Mexico, where my husband attended a conference. While there, it was so sad to see some older women crawling on their hands and knees 100 yards across up the street and then across the Plaza. They became bloody all over their limbs, thinking that crawling would please the Lord. Isn’t it so very, very good to know that we are under grace and not law? Yet how many times have we thought we had to spend a certain number of minutes reading the Bible each day and another so many minutes in prayer to please Him? These things are good but what He truly desires is relationship with us with the Bible reading and prayer springing from the relationship. He wants us to be eager to be with him. He is very eager to be with us— what an amazing thing. The Creator of the universe desires to spend time with me.

We scotch-taped a drawing of a fish on the Saudia Airlines bag we used as a carry-on when flying. That identified us as Christians to a couple from Pennsylvania who had a very interesting story. They were in Germany to buy a Mercedes Benz. The lower cost of the automobile in Germany paid for their vacation as well as the car.

We have both good and bad memories of Germany. The visit to the science museum was good. Having the lights turned off while we were walking across a huge room was not good.

With small children, we were far enough behind those in charge did not realize we were lagging behind. We yelled even though we did not know German. The wax wall hanging of a woman on a horse was good. Forgetting to put it in the refrigerator when we left for a time at our parents in the U. S. was not good.

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We found it melted when we returned to Saudi Arabia. Visiting Glockenspiel, the main square in Marienplatz Plaza Munich, Germany, was 100 % good. Wikipedia states, “It has been the heart and soul of Munich since the town’s foundation. There is a giant mechanical working clock in the plaza. It is called the Rathaus-Glockenspiel. It spins and moves and tells two different stories high above the square, with life-sized wooden figures that move and perform three times a day.”

A plus other tourists did not have was enjoying children’s creative play. As we sat in the plaza, ours used their straws as aids to their imaginations. They held them up to their noses to pretend they were rhinoceroses, used them pretending to be sword fighters and other creative ideas. Someone recently said that it must have been hard to have small children on the trips.

On the contrary, they added to the fun at each stop as we had a child as well as an adult perspective.

My husband’s accident while building a sprinkler system on a soccer field in Saudi Arabia left him with a broken foot in a walking cast in Copenhagen, Denmark. Despite the handicap, he went with our older son, 8-years-old, to sign up for a tour of the city while I went in another direction to finish buying souvenirs. Because of the cold rain, our son went back to the hotel to get a jacket as walking was so difficult for his father. The path to return was not a straight shot. After a couple of blocks, there was a left turn for a block before arriving at the hotel. His dad told him to just watch the red lights and cross when others who were waiting crossed. The next step was finding our room on the second floor. It is a good thing he was an intelligent, responsible child. One might question my husband and my intelligence in letting him make the trip alone back to the hotel. A blessing in disguise was the airline losing our luggage both in Frankfort, Germany, and Tampa, Florida.

The airline brought it to our door both times, a great help since Keith was dealing with the cast.

We found Switzerland to be a wonderfully clean nation that ran on an exact time schedule. If a train was to leave at 118

11:45, it did not leave at 11:44 or 11:46. We went to Jungfrau by electric train. The very long tunnel, which was part of our journey, took 14 years to build. Switzerland was as green, lush, and flower-filled as you might imagine. The timberline was about 7,000 feet, a great surprise to me. In my native Colorado, timberline is 11,000 feet. The highlight of the trip was the Ice Palace—hundreds of feet of tunnels, then five rooms, all carved from glacial ice. There were even carved statues of ice depicting a whiskey keg and other objects.

We had a rough trip to Kenya because of a four-hour stop in Jedda, Saudi Arabia. The airport was filled with pilgrims going to Mecca to celebrate Hajj. People sat body to body along the walls as well as on the floor among the chairs. Following a toddler to keep from losing him is not easy for that length of time, even when the ratio of parents to toddler is two to one.

The parent not following the toddler had the responsibility of keeping watch over the other child.

My husband reported, “Barcelona is a big, busy city but has a lot of interesting things. We took a guided tour one morning and visited the central Gothic Cathedral, the harbor area, and another place called Spanish Pueblo. This is a place that has a collection of buildings and styles of architecture representative of many parts of Spain. The next day we took the underground train and other assorted trains and cable cars up to an old castle which was more like a fort built on a big hill overlooking the city and the harbor and spent most of the day just looking around.” Unfortunately, during the shipping to England to get the film developed, all our photos of Spain were lost.

A drive in the mountains of Cyprus and a drive in the mountains of Colorado had something in common-me getting car sick. I had to move from back to front seat in each location.

A much more pleasant memory of Cyprus was the ice cream vendor on the beach chanting out his wares: “Strawberrieeee, cherry, cherry, cherry, choclota.”

The night before the fighting began in Cyprus, one of our friends suddenly felt that it was important that she pray for 119

us during a church prayer meeting. She prayed, “Give the Hendersons everything they need.” The Lord said, “Yes” to that prayer. The next day they heard that war had broken out in Cyprus between Greece and Cyprus. It is wonderful the Lord speaks to us through His Holy Spirit. Our prayer group knew our need spiritually, although they knew nothing of it through the news media.

We were downtown getting last-minute gifts before leaving when Keith heard gunshots. As we hurried back to our hotel, people outside their homes motioned us to come in. They had a machine gun on the dining room table. When Keith decided we should try to get to our hotel, we each carried a son running across the field to enter the hotel. He told me later the bullets were so close he heard them ricochet. We stayed in the motel for several days until a cease-fire was announced, then evacuated on a Mid-East Airline plane. The Lord provided all we needed. As He tells us in “And my God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:19) Arriving in Beirut, we found there was construction on the roof of an adjoining building. Our younger son was very frightened as he thought there was a war there also. Once he looked out the window and we explained to him what was happening, we all had a more peaceful, enjoyable time. Part of that wonderful time was with our dear Dr. Badr’s family at a restaurant high above the city. We ate frog legs which we found tasted very much like chicken.

Keith’s boss took us to an equally good restaurant which was a great contrast to the one above Beirut. It was an outof-the-way Greek restaurant so tiny that it was just one room in a family home. A man and his wife plus one helper cooked and served. There was much to entertain patrons. On display were pictures of antiques, knick-knacks, house plants, and a thousand other things all over the walls and ceiling. There was even an old record player. The furniture, being old, had been repaired several times. Keith wrote, “It really was pretty neat.”

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They had no menu. Guest by guest, they cooked your request.

There were only eight people being served, so the service was very personalized. While we were waiting for our food, the old man told stories and described the food that was to come.

Twenty miles north of Beirut, we visited Byblos. The town has been continually inhabited since before recorded history. It is claimed to be the oldest continuously inhabited town in the world. There are many old ruins dating from the time of the cave dwellers, the Phoenicians, and the Romans up to modern times.

Have you seen Monet’s painting “Sunflower?” We saw that famous work of art in Amsterdam. Holland. We wound our way through the hall in great anticipation. Then there it was.

We stopped short. It was directly in front of us on the end wall—a treasure prized for over 1,000 years.

From seeing “Sunflower” painted by Monet in 1880 to watching the artists paint in one of the famous “Artist Colonies” in Paris. From a Monet, there was no way we could afford a small painting we purchased for approximately $10 in Paris. That was an illustration of the contrast in our overseas experience.

Curtis spent the beginning of one flight from the U. S. to Paris, France, having me walk him up and down the aisle. He really needed to exercise, so then I let him crawl. While in Paris, Craig asked how to tell men from women. Not wanting to go into anatomy, I told him that women wore earrings and men did not, just before we saw a man with an earring.

Many years later, we did talk about anatomy. I had explained much to him, but he wanted details about how “the seed gets into the Mommy.” When I told him, he laughed. Many things were funny to that child.

Back in Riyadh, after enjoying our time in Paris seeing the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame Cathedral, our children were both enthusiastic about being back home. Craig told us over and over how excited he was to be back in Riyadh. Curtis remembered our villa even though he was young enough that 121

he had traveled in a stroller. In several ways, we realized we would not be any happier any place else. It was great to see different countries, Keith liked his work and the money and benefits were good. We continue to feel very blessed to have those five years overseas.

To my surprise, taking care of our friends’ three children went very well. Our sons were easier to care for as they never got bored. Craig played well with the 1st grader. Curtis had a great time with the two older boys watching them play marbles, being pushed in his stroller, and other activities. They brought me a kaftan, something I had wanted for a long time. We later bought tablecloths with the same intricate machine stitching as gifts for relatives.

Only Saudi Airlines flew in and out of Riyadh. Once outside the nation, our favorite airline was Lufthansa out of Germany. They gave small wood animals and other great gifts to help entertain our children. During one flight, Craig was very impressed with the small child across the aisle having an older brother who read to him. I always felt our two being so close in age enabled them to be very close friends. When I saw the two brothers across the aisle, it reminded me that there are advantages to various age differences between children in a family.

Our traveling also involved visiting family in the U. S. or flying back to Riyadh. During one of our visits to see my sister and her husband, I told her I had learned it was possible to have a personal relationship with the Lord Jesus. She was very interested in what I had to say. Her interest had developed as she read my reports of the Lord’s personal answers to prayer.

She was particularly intrigued by my report of the Lord putting our son’s two toddler-sized socks on top of a wash load. I asked Him, knowing I needed to find them quickly as the princess’ driver was coming to take Craig and me to the palace to help a princess learn conversational English. I knew the socks would 122

dry almost as soon as I hung them on the clothesline in the Riyadh heat.

Upon our return to Tampa, Florida, a slowdown in air traffic left us with a several-hour layover. The airline allowed us to use their VIP lounge and indulge ourselves with the treats there. There were even bunk beds where we rested.

On another trip back to the U. S. we had the whole lounge, the entire upper floor of a 747 airplane to ourselves. Our sons were able to lie on the floor with their coloring books and other entertainment. It was a great help as one of our sons was being toilet trained. I was able to take him to the bathroom every couple of hours without crawling over someone and walk the length of the plane to get to a restroom.

The only time we did not suffer jet lag was when we made our final move back to the U. S. It was a special gift from the Lord to have our awaking hours immediately coordinated with the Riyadh friends with whom we stayed so we had more time to chat together. It also gave us more time for our first trip to Disneyland.

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Return to the U. S. As we prepared to leave Saudi Arabia and return to live again in the U.S. I was so thankful for things I realized we would never experience again. Church with Christians of various nationalities was the most precious. In a Christmas Eve service, people of six language groups recited, “For God’s loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever should believe on Him should not perish but have everlasting life.”

(John 3:16). During the singing, most of us hummed while the speakers of the featured language sang the words. Our children attending school with children of varying nations was another.

Their world views were vastly expanded with the exposure. The Christians in Riyadh were of differing nationalities, languages, colors, and ages. We had little in common except following the Lord Jesus Christ, but that united us as one. Hence I entitled this book As Living Stones: More Memoirs. The Lord was building us together into His building.

We certainly would never be invited to the White House as we expatriate women were invited to King Faisal’s palace. I attended a royal wedding one week and a reception a few nights later given by one of the king’s wives. It is thrilling to see the king. I was almost breathless as I stood on a chair to see. When he made his appearance, we were only a few rows back from him. We left shortly after eating, about 11:00 p.m. The palace was as beautiful as you would expect a palace to be except for the bathroom. It was basically like all the other bathrooms in the other villas. There was a hole in the middle of the floor so water could run down after it was washed. There were no fancy decorations speaking of wealth at all.

No one seemed to know what started the panic in the palace. There was speculation that one of the incense burners 124

with hot charcoal began to tip over. Panic ensued with people trampling each other to get out. Several people were hurt.

Dresses were torn. Shoes were lost. We were very thankful to the Lord that we missed all of that. I left in the first part of our group. The second part waited for another car to come. When the panic began, police were immediately called. They sealed off the palace and would not let any of the drivers bring up the cars. The rest of our party did not get out of the palace until 3:00 a.m. There was no way to let their husbands know. It was a very stressful time for my friends who could not connect and their husbands who could not be connected. Cell phones make life so much easier.

At the reception given by a sister of the king, the luxury of the evening was almost unbelievable. They had beautiful Persian, hand-knotted carpets covering the driveway for the cars to drive over as well as covering the garden area around the house. The carpets probably covered an acre. The king’s sister graciously told our group, “Please feel free to come at any time. Not just for the reception. We want your stay in Saudi Arabia to be a pleasant one.”

But back we went. “I will be with you and keep you in all places” (Genesis 28:15) certainly applies to the Lord’s faithfulness to Keith and me. He was faithful in taking care of us before we knew Him as Savior. He was faithful in moving us to Saudi Arabia, where we became His followers. He was faithful in putting us into the right home when we moved back to the U.S. He was faithful in giving us the right neighbors. He was faithful in placing us in the right church (Heritage Park Baptist Church in Webster, Texas). He is faithful in giving us assignments that make life fun and meaningful. He is faithful to us as we live as senior citizens. He will be faithful until we go to be with Him or He comes again.

Keith’s work situation becoming almost impossible made it easier to leave Saudi Arabia as well. More and more things were piling up and the bosses were demanding more and more effort. Even a 12–14-hour day six days a week was not enough.

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As he wrote to his parents, “There were many other reasons. Each one by itself could be considered rather petty, but all together, it made a pretty big case for doing something else.” Another hardship was the growing expatriate population which made it hard to get basics like Crisco, peanut butter, or mushroom soup. We could manage around that. But when computing the amount of electrical output that would be needed the following summer it was obvious that there would be long periods with no electricity in our home. The school was also poor. The population was growing so fast there was not a place to house the school. Some who did not know the Lord and therefore could not seek His path for them were leaving the country before they finished their contracts. We knew if God had work He wanted us to do there, Riyadh would be the place we would be most content.

I hated the hassle of moving. I told my husband, “If you change jobs, we will move. If you do not, we will not move.”

That is why we still live in the house we purchased 45 years ago.

Even our wall hangings from the various nations we visited are in the same places on the family room wall. We plan to stay here modifying as needed until the Lord takes us home.

Upon our return, we did not intend to have a pet. I knew all was lost, however when I heard my husband begin to call a stray “Young Tom.” The yellow-striped family cat they had on the ranch was named “Tom.” The first Tom was an amazing cat.

He would sit in a toy dump truck while my husband’s younger brother “drove” him around in the back of his toy truck. There were many barn cats that kept down the mice. Tom was the only one who was ever allowed into their home.

Our selling, giving away, and throwing away was a huge job as we had lived in that villa longer than we had lived in any other home in our ten years of marriage. Our large villa was stuffed. We sold most of our big items to friends. Books and other educational items went to a friend who was a teacher. She was excited as it was difficult to get those items in Saudi Arabia.

Keith organized the smaller items by lying them in the entry 126

hall so the “mob” could shop. That prevented the headache of people going through cabinets and other areas uninvited. We put a notice in the grocery store to alert others to the sale. The organizing and selling were made a little easier by me having had our sons play all their board games, read their books, and sort through their other toys before each birthday and Christmas to see what they wanted to keep.

In Keith’s cleaning, he started to throw out a glass jar that had held orange juice. Craig claimed it to fill with water, saying he was going to save it for his next pet. He wanted a fish in case his hedgehog ran away.

We felt best about the items we left for some underground missionaries who arrived just before we left. I was reminded of the Scripture “Give and it shall be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over will be put into your lap. For the measure you use will be measured back to you.”

(Luke 6:38.) The Lord fulfilled His promise in that virtually everything we needed was replaced at an on-sale price. He even fixed our heater when I asked. We serve an amazing, personal God. We had heard that it was more of a shock to go home and see all the nice things in the stores, good restaurants, and so on than it was to move to Riyadh. I certainly agree. I sometimes just sat in a chair crying and singing to the Lord. All our friends overseas had gone through the adjustment and were able to help us learn how to grocery shop, find a house boy, etc. When we returned to the U. S., there was no one who had experienced what we were going through. I felt like I no longer knew how to clean house or do the basic tasks required of an American homemaker. I longingly remembered the house boy who did our housework. Even though at one point, when he saw my dishes piled in the dish drainer, he said, “This is no good. No good at all.” It was also exceedingly difficult to leave very, very close friends. Having some of those dearest to us already having left the nation helped a little.

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What a shock when we got up our first morning in Texas and went outside to the terrible odor. We were staying in a Holiday Inn in Seabrook and were only barely able to believe the smell. “Was it going to be like this every day we asked ourselves?” Later we learned it was a rare occurrence. The wind blowing from the petroleum refineries was causing it.

Another surprise was the tops of our ears turning red each day as we walked across the street to a restaurant for breakfast.

It never stayed the same. Some days it was one person, the next it was another. Very strange.

A realtor took us to 22 houses in 2 days. It got to the point that all we saw was the decorations on their walls. The Lord led us, though, and we picked the home just right for us. We have lived in it for 45 years. A definite blessing is that our home never flooded. Not even Hurricane Harvey, which devastated our area of Texas. The water was so deep the neighbor across the street came over in his canoe. We prayed together the Lord stop the rain. I still believe His answer was what stopped more devastation in our area. My husband explained the water would only rise so far along our street toward our home before flowing back in the opposite direction. Our relatively small church is still known as the Harvey Church due to the help we were able to give during that time.

We planned to visit some of our best friends in Florida when we entered the U.S., so along with the pain of leaving, there was excitement. My husband wrote to his parents, “I guess Marge saved the real news for me to tell. That is, we will be home in mid or late July. We will take about two weeks to pack our things, dispose of much of our household stuff and say goodbye to everyone.” My husband tells people, “We knew it was time to return when our second-grade son asked, “Dad, what is baseball?”

We saw things changing from our previous five years in Saudi Arabia as we prepared to return home. Among other things, laborers were coming in who wanted liquor to be 128

available. The nation would be changing. We were thankful we were there from 1971 through 1976.

When we knew we were to go, we left, not having the faintest idea what we would be doing or where we would live. We did know we needed a time of resting and visiting family. We had no idea what the future held, but the Lord did. After searching, the National Aeronautics and Space Administration found several names with the needed qualifications for a position with Geo-Syrianized satellites. The position entailed analyzing segments of remote sensing data to identify wheat and other crops. Keith had a wheat farming background, grew wheat in Saudi Arabia, and had knowledge of agriculture in other nations. Perfect match. He also convinced them that they should buy a computer, something they felt had no future.

It was Glen Boatwright who gave NASA Keith’s name after seeing his resume in the Agronomy Journal. He told them, “He’s your guy.” Glen thought he was in Saudi Arabia. NASA was told he was not there. A woman at NASA told herself, “I’m going to make this a project.” She searched until he was located. She tried my (Marjory’s) parents in Fort Collins, Colorado, and were told he was in New York City at the World Bank. No success. NASA representatives finally located him sitting in the Customs area of Denver International Airport. They invited him to attend a seminar for a job for which he had never applied. What a surprise to both of us. What a good fit for the work to be undertaken.

We came back to the U. S. not knowing what denomination we were. In Riyadh, all met together. Charismatic / those who were not charismatic. Baptists and Lutherans. Church of Christ and non-denominational. I began the church hunt by calling churches to find their statements of faith. Did they believe 129

what we believed? Did they believe that the Bible was without error? We finally decided we were Baptists, but what church should we attend? Our search was made somewhat easier when we saw a small sign in the window of a home we visited with a realtor. The couple invited us to their church. We attended there happily for a period. We did not like the fact that even though we invited people over to eat, they never invited us in return. Our fellowship in Riyadh was close socially as well as spiritually. We eventually chose to move from that church to a church that was being planted by another Baptist church in our area. Our first meeting in the building was by lantern light as there was not yet electricity. Later my husband liked to tell people we were the first people baptized at Heritage Park Baptist Church. Our pastor now calls Keith “Doc” since he was the first Ph.D. in our body of Christ. And you know what they say about Ph.Ds. “They know more and more about less and less until they know all there is to know about absolutely nothing.”

We knew that baptism was not needed to be saved, but we each felt like a load was lifted after we emerged from the water. I had been practicing putting my head in the water as I had a fear of the water. When the pastor heard me gasp as he started to put me under the water, he quickly brought me right back up. I tell people I was half baptized. It is a good thing that baptism is NOT needed for salvation.

The Lord brought us back in His perfect timing for the work He had for Keith and me to do, his at NASA and mine at Bay Area Christian School. He was a perfect fit for the job back in the States, just as he had been when he was hired to go to Saudi Arabia. I tell people that I substitute taught at Bay Area for 100 years.

One of the first people my husband met at NASA was astronaut Vance Brand. My husband headed up the timeline for the astronaut’s experiments. Keith was to give a presentation and changed what the two of them had written. After the 130

meeting, Brand chewed him out. He was told in no uncertain terms that he should not have made the changes. They had not been suggestions.

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Update What is new in the nation of Saudi Arabia? Tourists can now visit. The country is self-sufficient in wheat. That was King Faisal’s desire. There was no nation that could hinder them because of their need for wheat. A friend in Houston has a brother who lived in Saudi Arabia. She showed me a calendar of pictures of the green fields taken from the air. The change was made due to my husband’s work. He made a difference in an entire nation, something few people can claim.

As Lawrence G. Potter in his article “The Future of Persian Gulf Security” from Great Decisions magazine, “The future of security in the Persian Gulf is high on the list of the many foreign political challenges faced by the incoming administration of Joseph R. Biden…The current disorder in the Persian Gulf derives partly from changes that arose after the U.S. invasion of Iraq in 2003 and the Arab Spring uprisings of 2011…Most recently, the crash of oil prices that took place following the onset of the coronavirus epidemic in the spring of 2020 has dealt a major economic blow to the entire region, as the glut and reduced demand converges…The U.S. may want to step back, but it is still very much involved in the Persian Gulf.

Since World War II, its main goal in the region has been to safeguard access to the region’s oil and to prevent any other power (first the Soviet Union and later Iraq and Iran) from threatening this. The gulf states also figure in the number of other American foreign policy concerns, including terrorism, the spread of weapons of mass destruction, radical Islam, democratization of human rights, and the Arab-Israeli peace process. President Carter announced a new policy to guarantee security in the Gulf and to exclude outside powers, namely the Soviet Union. This eventually led to a major U.S. intervention to 132

protect oil tankers in 1987 and an expanding military buildup thereafter. Many feel it is time to evaluate U.S. interests.

William J. Burns, a U.S. diplomat with deep knowledge of the region, has warned that American policy in the Middle East is at a crossroads, “We need a significant shift in the term of our engagement in the region—lowering our expectations for transformation, ending our habit of indulging the worst instincts of our partners and engaging in cosmic confrontation with state adversaries, finding a more focused and sustained approach to the security of the Persian Gulf has been a concern of outside powers for the past 500 years. The most critical U.S. interest in the Gulf has always been safeguarding oil exports.

However, by 2018 only 15% of U.S. oil imports came from there, and thanks to shale oil, the U.S. has become an oil exporter.”

Lawrence G. Potter further writes of the rulers off Saudi Arabia: “The crown prince, Mohammad bin Salman (MbS), who will likely succeed his father to the throne, has shaken u domestic affairs in the kingdom. He has also pursued an aggressive and reckless foreign policy;, inspired by the regional turmoil and a fear that Riyadh can no longer rely on the U.S. to protect it. Since he took control in 2015 MbS has now consolidated all power and authority in himself as he tries to remake Saudi society. He reportedly is popular with the younger generation, and has imposed striking reforms, such as allowing women to drive, restraining the religious police and allowing western-style entertainment. In 2016 the crown price introduced “Said Vision 2030,” a set of reforms that aim to reduce government subsides, cut dependence on oil and empower the private sector…Saudi Araba is making plans to open its first nuclear power plant.”

When I mention we lived in Saudi Arabia, some ask, “What was it like?”

I reply, “It was horrible. It was wonderful.” It was horrible because we were considered loose women because, although we dressed very modestly, we did not wear black from the tip of our heads to our toes. Some Saudi men were kind; some 133

would bang on their car doors and yell at us. It was wonderful because we had the best friends we have ever had. We had no entertainment rather than talking with each other. We got to know each other at a deep level. It was wonderful because of our church fellowship with Christians of many nations. It was wonderful because we had a chance to explore the differences among cultures. For instance, a Jordanian friend told me, “Usually we don’t use the first name (of a person), but the last should be used. Abu is used with the first son’s name.

Like Jirius (her husband) is called Abu Odeh Habash.” When someone mentions to me the possibility of working overseas, I encourage them to do that. The opportunity to broaden one’s worldview is beyond value.

Just as we were planning our second Saudi Arabia, reunion COVID-19 struck. As you can imagine, we were very disappointed until we realized we could do something even better. Through Zoom, we would be able to visit not only those living in the U.S. but our dear Egyptian friends who now live in Canada and our Palestinian friends who live in Jordan. We have met several times over the last couple of years. The Jordanian who prayed with me in one room while an American friend led my husband to the Lord in the next room over Zoom talked for the first time in 58 years.

Zoom also made it possible for my publisher, Cathy Teets, to interview me on Zoom Into Books. She made it very easy as she showed the pictures from my book in a slide show. I only needed to tell the stories. She also asked if what we saw in Saudi Arabia had any similarity with what we are now seeing take place in Afghanistan. Unfortunately, yes. The oppression of women is very similar to what we remember. But the opposite is also true. I heard a Muslim Background Believer in Jesus speaking on prayercast.com. She said, “An oppressor insults his mother.” Some in Saudi Arabia realized that. I hope that eventually, it will be true of Afghanistan as well.

Christians are in great difficulty in Afghanistan. Samaritan’s Purse support partners in Afghanistan evacuated more than 134

700 people by air in late August, as well as 80 missionary families via land routes. Open Doors reported that although some Christians fled the country, others decided to stay and remain secret believers. “The entire Christian community is in danger of wholesale slaughter,” wrote Nina Sea, senior fellow, and director of the Hudson Institute’s Center for Religions Freedom, in The Epoch Times. Christians in Afghanistan number between 10,000 and 12,000, most of whom are converts from Islam. Pastor X, a leader of an underground church, said, “Our people are on the move, running from house to house and city to city to avoid being caught. Many Afghans are calling out the location in hiding to gain favor with the Taliban.

Women and girls are being taken from their homes as prizes for the Taliban and being raped. Christians are not afraid to die but want their children to live and live free. The underground church continues to thrive, even though the problems are dire and the outcome seems grim. We carry the unrivaled hope of the Gospel that continues to prove what our enemies intend for evil will always work for our good and God’s glory.”

Much prayer is needed for the people of Afghanistan, both Christians and Taliban. Christians face severe persecution in both these nations. The women especially need prayer. They live in a man’s world. It was the Lord Jesus who gave women an honored position. Women were honored to be the first to see the Lord after His resurrection. Angels told Mary, “Do not be afraid; for I know that you are looking for Jesus who has been crucified. He is not here, for He has risen, just as He said. Come, see the place where He was lying.” (Matthew 28:5) When Muslims move from Islam to Christ, they move from a religion of law and shame to a relationship of grace and freedom. The words of an old hymn tell of His grace, “I Stand in the Amazed in the Presence state: He took my sins and my sorrows, He made them His very own; He bore the burden to Calv’ry, 135

And suffered and died alone.”

When with the ransomed in glory His face I at last shall see, ‘Twill be my joy through the ages to sing of His love for me.”

One excellent source of information is I Commit To Pray<@icommittopray.com. The power of Christ working in and through His peoples’ lives is indicated by a front-line worker asking for prayer for the Taliban: “God loves Muslims.

God loves Afghanis. They are created in His image.” One Muslim Christian was asked, “What kind of support is being given?” The insinuation was they had been bribed to change religions. The reply, “The only support given is the joy and peace of having Christ as Savior. Pray that we stand firm, that the Islamists hear our testimonies and begin searching for the joy and peace we have in Christ.”

“Prayer Point,” a Samaritan’s Purse magazine, gave its readers information regarding a center in Iraq that is helping families learn to live again after war tore them apart. Nineveh, the ancient name for Mosul, is seeing fulfillment of God’s question to Jonah, “Should I not also have compassion on Ninevah?” (Jonah 4:11) Samaritan’s Purse is offering vocational classes there for adults and providing spaces for play and learning for children. The Mosul Family Center is a haven where families can begin to recover from the terrible reign of ISIS. Deep healing can be seen in the life of Faiz. He was captured by ISIS and beaten with electrical cords for 6 hours.

He stated, “The most important thing I’ve learned at the center is how to forgive. He who forgives is generous.” He then quoted Ephesians 4:32: “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you.”

ISIS’s treatment of Faiz is not an isolated situation. Even family members are sometimes oppressors. Voice of the Martyrs’ magazine tells Sanjana’s story: After her father beat her, she spent three years locked in her bedroom, half-starved and beaten continually. When her father became tired during 136

the beating, other family members took over. Her father then gave permission to an imam to rape her after she refused to return to Islam. Amazingly, her sister, during that process, was led to Christ. She has been baptized and now lives with a Christian family. As the pastor lowered her into the water, she felt like Jesus was speaking to her, confirming that she was His daughter. “I wanted to hear Jesus more,” she said, laughing at how she almost struggled with the pastor to keep her underwater longer so she could hear more of that precious voice. When asked why she never rejected her faith in Christ during the years of severe abuse, she referred to the Prodigal Son, saying, “I lived in a pigsty. Then You cleaned me, You washed me. Eating clean food and wearing clean clothes, how can I go back to just escape suffering? I am an ambassador to my God now; how can I become a slave once again?” She is living with a Christian family in Cairo and works part-time as a tailor. As my pastor says, “The only thing harder than following Jesus is not following Him.” Whether it is in their extremely difficult circumstances or our comparatively very easy ones.

Nabila is standing firm. I will tell her story but first some background. David Garrison, in his book Wind in the House of Islam, writes about Dar al-Islam, the House of Islam. The Muslim religious empire stretches from West Africa to the Indonesian archipelago, encompassing 49 nations and about 16 Muslims. Islam directs the spiritual affairs of nearly a quarter of the world’s population. Garrison writes, “Something is happening today that is challenging the hold Islam exercises over its adherents. Muslim movement to Jesus Christ is taking place in numbers we’ve never before seen. Let’s define a movement of Muslims to Christ to be at least 100 new church starts or 1,000 baptisms that occur over a two-decade period.

Today, in more than 70 separate locations in 29 nations, new movements of Muslim-background followers of Christ are taking place. In some countries, the numbers within these new movements have grown to tens of thousands.”

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Now Nabila’s story. She was married at the age of 15 to an Islamic judge who was also a terrorist. She became a Christian in 2012. She told the story of often talking with her sisters about Jesus. Her prayer became, “Allah, please fix me in the truth.” He did. She was baptized by another Muslim-background believer.

When he was asked how many Muslims had been baptized through his ministry, the man replied, “There are 2,845 that were baptized this past year. All of these baptisms occurred in 11 months. In 11 months, we have gone from 21 to 2,845.

A deeply contrasting attitude was seen in an interview with the Associated Press by Mullah Nooruddin, one of the founders of the Taliban and a chief enforcer of harsh interpretations of Islamic law, said, “We will once again carry out execution and amputation of hands, though perhaps not in public. No one will tell us what our laws should be. We will follow Islam and we will make our laws on the Quran.” Fortunately, the majority of Muslims in the world are not Islamists, the extreme branch of the religion.

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Nothing Changes As we age, nothing really changes. “Even to your old age I will be the same. And even to your graying years I will carry you. I have done it and I will bear you; And I will carry you…”

(Isaiah 46:4) The Lord saved me. I am His child. I am to live filled with His Spirit, following the path He has for me. Nothing changes. When we went to Saudi Arabia, he was 33 years old and I was 29. He was 82 when this book was written and I was 78. We have lived in two completely different cultures, but nothing changes. God loves us. We were headed to eternal separation from Him, who died for us. Now we are headed to the home He has promised us in Heaven. (John 14:2) Keith is now in that home. Nothing changes. He still has work for me to do.

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My Husband’s Homegoing Keith and I were very different in personality but complimented each other beautifully. Our marriage was rocky in the beginning. Each of us receiving Jesus as Lord made all the difference. He grew us up in Him and in our love for each other. I can truly say that at the end we loved each other more than we ever had.

One way he showed his love was leaving me a note in the bathroom. “Wiping down the shower is a merciful act.” We had put in a walk-in shower so there was lots of glass. It had become hard for him to use the squeegee or even to wipe it down with a towel. I continue to keep the note taped on our bathroom mirror.

I treasure the sympathy card I got from a dear church friend who wrote, “Thanks to you and Keith for showing us the perfect example of a Christ-centered marriage. I have learned so much watching the two of you serve our Lord.” Her husband wrote a great tribute to Keith: “Marge, words can’t express the impact Keith had on my spiritual life. Particularly when I joined the ranks of the deacons. I am a better Christian because of him.”

Another sympathy card was from the man who led him to Christ in Saudi Arabia. “So sorry to hear about Keith. He beat us all home!” What a beautiful expression of truth.

The Lord awakened me one morning at 3:34 with the words, “He has received his reward.” I have cried a lot but I 140

would never ask the Lord to have him back as his life would have been more and more difficult.

At our ages one or the other of us would have gone to be with the Lord. It was better that it be him. He would have had the grief plus had to deal with the increased battle with Parkinson’s disease. He often cooked supper—once telling me, “I have to do something.” I think he was weaker and his battle greater than either our sons or I realized.

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Keith’s Funeral I believe his funeral honored the Lord and honored Keith as well. Our sons, grandchildren, and I spoke. An example of the love in our family was illustrated by one granddaughter hugging her sister after hearing her speak. Our son Curtis spoke before his brother saying to the congregation, “Mom has received an enormous amount of love. At a time like this you worry about the remaining parent but your love has been a balm to my heart. It lets me know she is being well cared for.”

In speaking of his Dad he said, “He was always amazing and admirable, always had a tremendously big heart but having granddaughters softened his peace, patience, gentleness, all the fruits of the Spirit.

Our older son Craig began by saying to his brother, “That was so good, Curtis!” He emphasized the fact that “people would gather around Mom knowing that I needed them for a month or two, but she will need you just as much three or four months down the road.” He added. “I commit to be there for you, Mom” And he has. As busy as his schedule has been as director of the doctoral program in clinical psychology at Sam Houston State University, he has been here each month for a weekend. His brother Curtis has just become chair of the biology department at Houston Baptist University, yet he is here to fix my computer, take me for my COVID shot as I can temporarily no longer drive due to some strange malady in my legs that will require an MRI, etc. As the saying goes, “That’s another story.” Curtis’ wife Tracie has spent an enormous number of hours driving me all the places I need to go. Craig’s wife Susan has done all she can in addition to helping her dad.

I am so thankful for the love in our family for one another.

One evening as Craig was going through some of the endless 142

paperwork only requiring that I “Sign here, Mom. Sign here Mom.” I commented “I am so glad that we have such a loving family!” His reply, “That may not be the situation when Curtis finds out that I get 51% and he gets 49%.” Sooo funny!

Our wonderful church held an amazing celebration of life. Our pastor said at one point, “We probably should have extended the roped off area for family clear to the back.” We really are family. He began, “Did you have a moment when you laughed in that video, a moment when you thought, ‘I’m gonna miss that guy?’” He focused on Psalm 68:19 saying “The Psalms, if you don’t know, are like the Bible’s version of country music. You can be there laughing along, tapping your toe when a line suddenly hits you.” He then spoke on “Blessed be the Lord who daily bears us up. God is our Salvation.” He HAS held me up and He IS our Salvation. Our younger son’s wife asked during one of our pastor’s many visits, 10 in just one day if he would give the plan of salvation. His reply, “I give the plan of salvation at every funeral, at every wedding.”

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Alhumdeallah As I ended my previous memoir, “Alhumdeallah (praise be to God) that we decided to make the giant step needed to change cultures. It now gives me joy to reach out to the many internationals in Houston, Texas, knowing they can experience peace on earth only the Lord Jesus can bring and eternal joy in the heavenly home if they will join me in living for Him.”

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More Memories

Marjory Henderson

Marjory Henderson, Elementary Education major at the University of Arizona, taught in their sons' Christian school in League City, TX for many years. Her first book, As Living Stones, is a multi award-winning book. Born and raised in Colorado, she moved with her husband and their two sons, Craig and Curtis, for a five year adventure in Saudi Arabia. From there they visited several Middle East countries, Cyprus, Kenya, England, Switzerland, Germany, and Holland. Since retiring, she enjoys teaching Bible studies as well as spending time with her family in Texas.

As Living Stones

As Living Stones: More Memories

In this sequel to As Living Stones: My Five Years in Saudi Arabia, Marjory Henderson writes from letters penned by her husband Keith to his parents and adds memories of her own. His work took them from the green of Colorado to the brown of Saudi Arabia. He found relationships with farmers to be both encouraging and discouraging. The socializing was encouraging, as was the occasional wheat yield of 80-100 bushels per acre. Discouraging was seeing wealthy, influential farmers getting perks from the government meant for poor farmers and having only five combines for 60 farms.

Marjory Henderson