Couple builds a love that lasts

A Facebook conversation today about Carman and Norma Pate reminded me of when I interviewed them for River Community's Current 11 years ago. Their love story is timeless, worth repeating, and worth replicating.

What's in a Name?

I have a little rosebud! My son, Caleb, and his fiancé, June, had their baby yesterday, February 22, 2019. Her name is Rose Elizabeth Franklin.

Although I agree with Shakespeare's Juliet when she says:

"What is in a name? That which we call a rose by any other would smell as sweet," I am still glad that my first grandchild is named Rose Elizabeth.

June says she has always loved the name Rose. She had a doll named Rose. Rose is her favorite saint. Even as little girl she planned to name her future daughter Rose.

So when she and Caleb were talking about boy or girl names, she said if the baby was a girl she wanted to name her Rose.

Caleb was stunned. "You know, that's my grandma's name, Rosella. Her brothers called her Rose. That's perfect!"

September 2018- Celebrating at College Hill Creamery after the sonogram when we found out they were having a girl.

To me what makes it even more special is Rose is my mom's first great-grandchild. What a wonderful bond for the first and fourth generation to share a name.

Being born in February, the month containing Valentine's Day, is also fitting for a for a girl named after its signature flower.

June's middle name, Elizabeth, was a family name, so she and Caleb used it for baby Rose as well.

My mother's maiden name was Ediger, so she gave us middle names that started with "E." Mine happens to be Elizabeth.

My maiden name was Epp, so if I was to continue the tradition I would need to use middle names starting with "E" as well. I wasn't inclined to do that (how many good "E" names are there, after all?), so Caleb's middle name became Mark, after his daddy David Mark.

But for our second son we really wanted the middle name to be after Dave's Grandpa Earl Franklin, so Harrison's middle name became Earl, which happened to start with an "E." So then with our first and only girl I decided she could have my middle name, and it would start with an "E," so we named her Laurel Elizabeth.

Each Christmas as I read the nativity story I love more and more the way Mary the mother of Jesus finds comfort, companionship, and inspiration during her pregnancy with her also-pregnant and wise Aunt Elizabeth, who becomes the mother of John the Baptist.

So with the name Rose Elizabeth, this little girl baby from the start feels very much like she belongs in our family. And to me, nothing could be sweeter.

Hillsboro Connections

Last fall, I was in the checkout line at Aldi and the cashier said, "I like your sweatshirt."

I happened to be wearing my new Tabor Bluejays hoodie that my sweet husband, David Franklin, bought for me on the day we went to doubleheader football games--Emporia State's afternoon game with Laurel, and our alma mater Tabor's evening game against arch-rival Bethel on the way home.

I like it too. It looks like this:

But what the Aldi cashier said next confused me.

"It's from my hometown."

"This is from Tabor College in Hillsboro," I clarified, thinking he might be thinking of some other place with a bluejay mascot.

"Yes, I grew up in Hillsboro," he said.

"Really? I did too!" I said.

Now I certainly don't claim to know everyone in Hillsboro, which has a population of about 3,000, and I haven't lived there for nearly 30 years, but it still surprised me to find a former Hillsboroian working at my Aldi. Here he is.

He said his name Ronnie and he attended Hillsboro High School in the early 2000s. His family lived in the country, about a mile from Ebenfeld. (Yes, he said "Ebenfeld!").

I mentioned something about Hillsboro sausage, and he asked me if I knew that the World Impact store in Wichita stocked it. Well yes, I had heard that, but I go to back to Hillsboro often enough that I still always am able to pick it up at Dale's Grocery.

"But you can't get Granny's mustard there!" he said.

So of course I had to tell him that our family farm had been only a few miles from the Granny's mustard family. By then I had finished paying for my groceries and the line was backing up so I had to leave.

But on subsequent visits if Ronnie was working we would exchange pleasantries and talk about Hillsboro, best known in these parts for for its annual Hillsboro Arts and Crafts Fair. Ronnie knew the Seibels. Of course, I did too.

When Dave and I married we decided to live in Wichita, his hometown and bigger city with more job possibilities. Hillsboro was just too small-town for us. But talking with Ronnie about Hillsboro was fun because he was genuinely positive about his time there.

The next time I went back to Hillsboro to visit my mom, I picked up Granny's mustard at Dale's. I couldn't wait to surprise Ronnie with it.

Unfortunately, I left it on the kitchen island and someone opened it (Lance), so I had to have my mom bring a new one when she came for Thanksgiving.

The next time I went to Aldi I took the mustard wrapped in cellophane Christmas gift bag. As luck would have it, Ronnie was working.

"Ronnie, I have something for you!" I said when I found him stocking the canned goods. "You have to guess."

"Granny's mustard!" He said, tipped off by the semi-obvious packaging.

We laughed and he thanked me, surprised by the unexpected gift.

And I thought about how much fun I had giving it.

Then we went on a cruise, so I didn't go to Aldi for nearly two weeks. When I went to the store, Ronnie said he had something for me. He gave me a gift bag. Inside was a cute candle in a teacup, wrapped in gold ribbon. He had made it himself! (The wax candle part). I loved it.

Driving home, I wondered how long Ronnie had been waiting for me to come back to Aldi so he could give me this special gift. My gift was just something I picked up for a few dollars at the grocery store. His was handmade.

I decided would take him some peppernuts (little spiced cookies that are a German Mennonite Christmas tradition, as well as a 20-plus year tradition of mine) the next time I went. But Christmas was only a few days away. What if I missed him?

So I when I got home, I quickly bagged up some peppernuts and drove right back to the store.

I told Ronnie how much I liked the candle, and that I wanted to give him my traditional gift of peppernuts. After all, I warned him, "You can't out-Hillsboro me!"