Quaker monthly and yearly meetings
Two Meetings, Two Families
As I sat in the Central City Meeting House in May, I became aware that our two meetings had a strong connection coming out of a shared history. Although the two meetings are affiliated with different branches of Friends, over the years we have gotten together as there were few other Friends in Nebraska. Both…
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How did I come to be a member of Bear Creek?
How did I come to be a member of Bear Creek?Bear Creek Friends Meeting (Conservative),Dallas Co., Iowa Nancy Osborn Johnsen I am a “birthright Quaker,” as the parlance goes, having both direct lines of my Osborn and Standing forebears as recorded Friends for at least ten generations. I pretty much had taken my Quaker…
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Resurrection
by Alberta Kisling Out of the crumbles of dust and termites come memories of children’s voices at play or reciting, first day school and committee meetings. We Quakers reflect on the old school house that is gone. But look! Rising from the ruins of the past; a new building! Many windows for quiet gazing across…
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The Peace Testimony Remains
by Lynne Howard I am an Iowa native—actually a Des Moines native. I grew up attending Knox Presbyterian Church just two miles from the Des Moines Valley Friends (DMVF) Meeting House. Although Presbyterian Churches are not typically known as “peace churches”, Knox Presbyterian was an active peace church. While never having to officially declare himself…
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Centering Down at Bear Creek
by Alberta Kisling Catch the mind Don’t let it wander – Center The facing bench is empty Where are they? Oh, there they are Sitting so tall So stern Faces lined, eyed downcast Always there. There – out the window The old school house Where are your children school house? Do they remember you?…
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Finding My Way Home
by Jenny Lumsden Everyone comes to faith in his or her own time and their own way. For some they are born into it and it always feels like home, for others they grow up with one way being dictated to them but it always feels “off” and so they go in search of other…
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Coming to Friends
by Deborah Fink A.M. Fink and I wandered into Friends in early 1974. We were ready for a change, but I was the one who was the refugee. My spiritual path has been long, bumpy, and at times traumatic. I was born in October 1944, shortly after the world entered the atomic era. Early memories…
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Bonfires
by Birdie Kisling Often as we walk along in the fall we see a whiff of smoke and soon the nostalgic odor of burning leaves overwhelms our senses. What wonderful memories!! We remember coming home on the school bus and entering the kitchen to the sight of our mother canning tomatoes. After a warm cup…
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Quaker business process
by Lucy Duncan, American Friends Service Committee (AFSC) I became a Quaker within Iowa Yearly Meeting (Conservative). My mother, though a Dorothy Day Catholic, taught theater and English at Scattergood Friends School for many years when I was little and most of my babysitters were Quakers from the school – all of them were kind,…
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Paullina Friends Meeting Video Stories
In 2012 Paullina Friends met at the Mapleside meetinghouse, and told stories related to the meeting. Some of those videos are available at the links below. Introduction of purpose and participants About the separation of men and women Decision about the partition separating men and women Plain language How the meetinghouse was moved to Mapleside…
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Poem at Bear Creek Meetinghouse
by Laura Melvin Might the old Meeting House at Bear Creek Friends break the silence? If so, it would speak a wordless poem — to catch it on paper would be like trying to net the kaleidoscope of clouds that sprint across open fields. As the Holy silence deepens experienced benches creak in rhythm with…
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The Gift of a Relish Dish: A Touchstone to Quaker Living
by Jenny Lumsden Mark and I were married at Bear Creek in November of 2014. It was a small and unassuming wedding. There were no bridesmaids or over the top decorations, no ring bearers or songs sung in between readings. It was held in a simple, if not rather shorter than usual span of silence,…
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The Meetinghouse
by Brynne Howard Through the windows I watch the rain fall. It comes down gently at first, dusting the trees and benches with its sparkle. Then it starts to pound, on the windows, on the benches, on the trees. It becomes a mob of angry men wanting inside. Thunder explodes, and my chair shakes from…
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Quaker Stories 