Just when I think I have no more stories, another memory comes back to me.

A few days ago, Donna and I were at the dentist. Donna had an appointment with the dentist, while I sat in the waiting room and read. Everyone else in the room were on their phones – nobody talks anymore, not even a “hello”.

The dental assistant is a very friendly person and, in conversation with Donna, asked how she was and Donna replied that she hadn’t slept well that night and was tired. Of course, we are retired and usually don’t go to bed until 12 or 12:30 a.m. The dental assistant replied that she has two small children and goes to bed at 9:30 p.m. and gets up at 5:30 a.m.

This took my mind back to 1959. I had just graduated from bible college and was heading out to pastor our first church in Nova Scotia, 1300 miles away. This was an interim ministry for the summer. I had gotten my driver’s license just ten days before and was driving a car with a clutch. We also had two small children, Rob and Susan, three and one respectively.

Donna’s mother helped me fix a bed, with a playpen, in the back seat (no seat belts in those days – seat belts came in the 1970s). When they were asleep, I would drive, approximately 300 miles a day. It took us four days to reach Nova Scotia.

I was responsible for two churches. The parsonage was something else. The only electrical appliance was a deep freezer. For heat, we burned wood. There was no washer or dryer and Donna had to heat water on the stove in a tub and use a scrub board to do the laundry – no disposable diapers in those days. We kept our milk, and anything that needed to be kept cold in the basement. We could only get to the basement from the outside, and if it was raining and the grass was wet, we would put on our rubber boots.

We all slept in one room. One night I heard a noise, and when I turned the light on, saw a mouse climbing the curtains. After that, I set traps and got six mice in one week. The grass hadn’t been cut and I tried to cut it using a scythe, as they had no lawnmower. Donna, who plays the piano, had to practice and play the reed organ (that was certainly different).

As well as preaching on Sunday, I also helped a farmer cut his hay. Oh yes, the present minister for whom we were supplying, had planted a garden and we were asked to look after it. I always knew Nova Scotia had rock and weeds, but his garden had thistles, and lots of them. I grew up on a farm, but don’t ever remember having to weed with gloves on because of thistles.

We enjoyed our ministry with the people and, after two months, moved to Digby Neck, where at least we were able to send for our own furniture. We had a ringer washer and a clothesline for drying and we had our own fridge. We had no bedroom doors, only curtains, and a small bathroom, with only a chemical toilet. We had to heat water in the kitchen and take it upstairs where we had a small basin in which to bathe. Only a curtain on that room too. We had a pump in the kitchen for water (dried up in summer and froze up in the winter). We survived there for two years, then we moved on.

I believe the younger ministers coming out of college today have no idea what it was like starting out in the fifties. We are thankful for all we went through and would gladly do it again. We are also glad we are still carrying on in our retirement years and are able to share these stories. There are many more to come.

Leslie Jobb