Henry’s Blog

Portraits of Lillian

Posted by henryadminlogin on  April 23, 2022
Archives Portraits of Lillian                                                                                                                      April 14, 2022 As photographer, I remember events and relationships in images of the mind. These stories, these reflections, are the still photos describing a long-lasting and loving romance. I now share this album of images with you, the reader. Henry Regehr February 1946 On starlit prairie evenings, riding Madge, thirteen-year-old Lillian lets the pony choose its way in the farm field. She lies back on the horse and gazes at

The Wise Old Teacher

Posted by Henry on  August 20, 2021
Archives The wise, wizened old Teacher sat in the shade of the towering jacaranda tree. His attentive, eager students sat on the fresh green grass and wanted to hear answers to questions over which they, and generations of questioners before them, had puzzled. The Teacher, instead of reciting lectures from his notes, turned the tables and asked his young acolytes to think through the issues with dialogue, argument, and debate. “What is the purpose of
Archives We were walking in thick Vancouver fog with our little daughter, age two-and-a-half. She was testing her wings in the park where we had gone for some family time. She ran ahead of us into the dense white cloud only to find that we had disappeared from her sight. There was an exuberant shriek, and she ran back into our view and our welcoming arms. It quickly became a game. Off she would run,
Archives I am filled with gratitude for my Mennonite roots. At age ninety I have spent more than half of my life away from that community, but the anchor of my life has always been the deep, unfathomable, and permanently sticky, connection to that community and its special people. A sociology professor once explained “marginal man” as people born to the immigrant parents who had decided to live in a new and unfamiliar country. Their
Archives Peter and Ernie don’t know each other; they belong, however, to the family of creative story tellers. Peter tells stories of his contemporaries as though on a mission. He sees it as his duty to describe the foibles of people in his cultural group in order to maintain the ethical standards of the community and to warn his acquaintances of the danger of stepping off the familiar and acceptable path. He is the community’s
  1. Lois

    It was so moving to read this to my daughter Jordan. It made me think of Lillian’s sister, my mom, Margaret, waiting for her and it made me think of how close they were. I was always shy when you and Lillian visited my parents but your stories brought back memories of you both talking about that tree farm. It is lovely to hear of your enduring love and have snippets of history interspersed. Thank you so much for sharing. May God continue to encourage and support you as you grieve.

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