The Beginning

So, my daughter Lyndee, (Melynda Fleury to a great many, but still Lyndee to me!) set this up and we shall see what we shall see.  I guess the first "walk" should be HER story, right?  Since she was so sweet to do this for me….

 When we found out Lyndee was on the way, we were in the last semester of our college years.  We were overjoyed and not worried...Don worked a union job, so we had insurance.  About a week after we found out we were expecting, Don was put on a lay-off.  Technically, they had worked themselves out of a job!  Work hard, work good...no more job...sounds right???  NOPE!  But hey, we were young and trusting in God's provision and His perfect will.  Then the car broke down!  Still trusting...and walking...lots and lots of walking.  Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, I walked approximately 6 miles going back and forth between campus locations (one was right across from our apartment and the other was a mile away).

 We counted that as GOOD exercise because, hey!  They tell you walking a lot makes for an easy delivery!  We also found out that our insurance would no longer pay, even though, technically Don was still an employee.  Plus, he still had to call in every day and see if there was work that day. 

 We had to wait 3 weeks before we could apply for unemployment.  Meantime, we had NO income, and a bunch of school bills, doctor bills and a baby on the way.  Don tried to get another job, but due to the fact we would be leaving in May, another job was not forthcoming. 

At last, when we had exactly one dime left to our name, I watched with tears in my eyes as Don inserted it into the pay phone to find out if there was work that day.  I saw Don's face drop and new before he told me, that the answer was, "No."  Don and I started our walk home.  We knew that there was absolutely nothing at home to eat.  I cried most of the way home and railed out my grief to God, asking Him why He was allowing this.  We had always been faithful to Him; we were preparing to be missionaries...so what had we done to deserve such a fate?

 We got home, sat down at the foodless table and held hands and prayed.  I will not say I felt better when we finished.  I was still not a happy camper!  I went out the door and went to the mailbox hoping there would be a letter from home (yup...snail mail was all that existed in those days!) to cheer me up.  Oddly, my 85 year old grampa had decide we needed our graduation present 2 1/2 months early!  I was so excited!  I ran back to the apartment and waved the check at my beloved!  Wow!  Didn't expect THAT to happen!  We tithed, gave our missions, paid the rest of the rent, and bought a couple of dollars worth of food. 

 A week later, we were back in the same position.  This time, I was walking as fast as my legs would carry me, and I didn't stop at the apartment.  I went straight to the mailbox…and there was another letter from a lady in my Dad's church who said God had laid it on her heart to send us some money.  Here's the thing...no one knew what we were going through except the Lord.  Now,  in the words of Paul Harvey, "for the rest of the story!"

 We sat down, once again, to our foodless table, to pray and thank the Lord for His provision.  As we finished praying, I looked up and saw a station wagon pulling up.  It was Don's preacher's wife from Alabama.  Don's folks ran a Rescue Mission and they had filled the entire back end of that large station wagon with food!  We were astonished!  A few days later, we were alloted $12.00 a week of food stamps for a month.  Then Don's unemployment kicked in, and God allowed us to get the apartment upstairs that was a lot cheaper.  We shared the food wealth with friends who were in as desperate a situation as us, and we finished our college years after all.

 We then moved to Oklahoma to do our internship in a church.  We were promised a furnished house and $50.00 a week, which, even then, was not much.  But, we had learned FAITH by then and so we started out on the journey.  Unfortunately, the house wasn't furnished, and the roof leaked abominably.  They did go buy us an old used mattress and boxspring.  We kept our cold food in the refrigerator at the church.  Then, there was the toilet that overflowed every time it was flushed, so the preacher asked us not to use it.  I would get up 3 or 4 times a night, and creep out, scared silly, and unlock that big empty church building to go to the bathroom.    The worst was that the house was aluminum sided, but wasn't air conditioned.  If you have ever been to Oklahoma in the summer, you can imagine what that was like!  It was, on a typical day, 113° F in the house!

 Having no insurance, we went to a public health clinic for the final months of my pregnancy.  Now, I was only 20 and looked younger.  Don was 23, but he, too, looked younger, so we often got looked at like we were 2 kids who’d gotten “in trouble” as the expression went in those days.  I was normally a thin person, but was very, very big pregnant!  So big people stopped and stared.  More than once they actually gawked.  One man insisted I must be having triplets.  Again, in those days, you didn't know ahead of time.  You waited until they were born to know!

 Lyndee was due a few days before our first anniversary, which was 14 August.  Don had to go down to Alabama for his brother's wedding the week before my due date.  We were worried.  Since mid-July the doctors at the clinic were telling us the baby could come any day...it was down, pushing and I was already some dialated.  So, with great trepidation, Don flew to Alabama.  He came home in a car his parents had sold us, which was a blessing.  A few days later, his dad showed up with a van load of furniture from the mission.  We were ecstatic!  And now we were ready for our baby. 

 We were going faithfully to the clinic every Tuesday, week after week, each time to be told that it would be any day.  We walked every evening when it cooled down and every Monday we went to the mall and walked until Don and I both thought our legs would be worn down to nubs.  Still no baby.  Finally, they did x-rays...something they now know should never be done.  They said the baby was past full term and should come any time.  Another week went by, and they did sonograms.  I was only the 2nd woman in Oklahoma to ever be sonogrammed back then.  They said the baby's fontenelle was closing, so they must induce...in one more week...if I hadn't come in by then.  This was now the 5th of September. 

 I was upset all the way home.  As we came up on the grocery store, I told Don to go in and get me a bottle of castor oil.  All the older ladies of the church had been telling me to do that.  He slipped into and out of that store in high gear, because we didn't want anyone to know we had resorted to the dreaded castor oil. 

 Here is where the story gets crazy.  The old ladies told me to take the stuff, but they didn't say how much to take.  Understand...I was alone, far from my mama, far from my mother-in-law, and in those days, long distance calls were outrageously expensive.  So...I drank the whole bottle.  Believe me...it was one of the hardest things I have ever done.  I kept gagging, and Don would say, "Stop!  You're gonna make me puke!"  And I kept thinking, "AND???"  Because I was the one gagging the stuff down!

Won't go into details, but it worked!  We hauled off to the hospital about 3 AM, Don driving like Mario Andretti!  That was on Wednesday.  We watched the sunrise, in between the less than minute apart contractions.  Because it was a public health clinic, they didn't do epidurals...only saddle blocks, and those, just as the baby was coming.  So all that day and all that night, the contractions went on and on and still no baby.  Finally, on Thursday, after 35 hours of contractions, Melynda Dawne Williams made her late, but very wonderful appearance.  She has been a joy to us always, andwe thank the Lord to have her as our daughter.  For Melynda followers and friends…I will get back to her again…this time with the FUN stuff!

Love to all and remember…God loves you soooooo much!