I first saw it from the air, a snaking pattern of dark murky brown, obviously a river. When we arrived in Winnipeg, I quickly learned that there are two rivers flowing through Winnipeg. The Red River runs north and south and the Assiniboine, west and east. They meet at what is called, "The Forks", a modern-day shopping area for tourists. In the past, a trading post for the Hudson's Bay Company sprung up conveniently in this place.
A trip to the Manitoba Museum of Man and Nature confirmed the rich history of Manitoba. The Red and Assiniboine Rivers were used as routes to get to the great plains where bison were hunted by the natives. Explorers traded furs along these rivers and received pemmican and other provisions from the natives.
We value history and seek to perserve it.
As six of us toured the museum, I watched how we were all captivated by various points of interest and I thought of our visit here and why we came. Barbara and Catherine shared that Aunt Bernice travelled to Moose Factory before she got married. For one and a half years she worked at the mission, sharing Christ and teaching. She got sick and had to return home.At another centre in the museum, some of us made canoes amd shared more of ourselves.It's about knowing one another, drawing closer, sharing stories, one generation to the next.
It was my Uncle John who pointed out relationship a few days ago. As he pushed his walker through the Personal Care Home, he said to me, "There are three generations represented here", and I nodded, "ÿes".
I looked at he and my Aunt Bernice and then at his two daughters, Barbara and Catherine, and thought about Catherine's husband Don and their children, Erin and Ally. I thought about Hannah and I and the families we represent.
We've shared a lot of stories over our visit - some humerous, some painful and some just facts. Each of us have a journey that winds through time, snaking through terrain rough and smooth. On the plane, I could see so much of the river's path.Yet on the ground I could just see the murky water- swirling, churning, flowing. I know now that the snaking river is the Red River that starts in North Dakota and ends at Hudson's Bay. Not because of what I saw and experienced but because of what I heard - a truth passed down.
Stories told. Experiences shared. Feelings expressed. So it goes. Like the Red River, we tell our stories and we link generation to generation. We learn of God's faithfulness in the past. We speak of it, an know more of His greatness, His power, His goodness, and mercies and we meditate upon Him and praise His name.
Great is the Lord, and highly to be praised; And His greatness is unsearchable. One generation shall praise Thy works to another, And shall declare Thy mighty acts. Psalm 145: 3-4