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In Memory of Brother Orval Harden |
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Longtime friend and supporter of the Bible Sabbath Association,
Orval Harden, died peacefully at at age 97 in his home in Grand
View, Idaho, on Feb. 18, 2005.
Orval was born in Cherokee County, Kansas in 1907, the fourth
child of John William Erastus Harden and Cora Ann (Belk) Harden.
He joined two older sisters, Lola and Leona, and a brother who
died shortly after he was born. He worked in his father's tire
store in Sabetha, Kansas, in his youth, and acquired a Model T,
which he drove to Idaho for a visit when he was 16 years old. His
family said that "as he lay on his back at Riggins watching
a pack train high up on the mountain coming around the trail, he
vowed he'd be back."
He graduated from Sabetha High School and the College of
Agriculture at the University of Nebraska in Lincoln. While
attending college, he worked at a tire shop and in 1930 met a
young graduate nurse, Mada Cathern Furry. They were married in
October 1931, although, his family said, she had to promise to
move to Idaho. He was still a full time student and working when
his first son Duane was born in 1932. He graduated in June 1933,
and in July they visited family in route to Idahotenting
along the way.
They lived in New Plymouth while Orval worked at Cabarton for a
logging contractor. When winter snows shut them down they moved
to Des Moines, Iowa, where he built houses with his father, and
took his Civil Service exams.
Their second son, Hugh, was born in 1934 in Des Moines, which he
had described to his family as "a hard depression
year."
In March 1935 Orval went to work for the old Bureau of Farm
Management and Costs. That job had him in northern Iowa,
Illinois, Indiana, and Ohio. He then went back to school for
graduate work at Iowa State University in July 1937.
Their third son, Hal, was born at that time. "Orval seemed
to think he was making a more honest living working in the
private sector," his family said, so in September 1937 the
family moved to Phoenix where he attended trade school and
learned the plumbing trade. In 1938 they moved to Nampa, Idaho,
where Orval worked as a plumber and Cathern worked as a nurse.
They later bought a plumbing business in Grand Junction,
Colorado, but business was poor, so Orval took another government
job in Amarillo, Texas. Several moves later, in 1940 in
Blackwell, Oklahoma, their fourth son Harvey was born. They again
headed for Idaho, and partnered with another family to purchase
and farm 80 acres south of Meridian, while Orval also worked as a
plumber. That farm was eventually sold and the family moved to a
better farm near Emmett, where in 1945 his fifth son, Quentin,
was born.
They completed their family in 1949 with Orval F., son number
six. They lived over twenty years in the same spot near Eagle,
during which time the boys grew up.
In 1965 they emigrated to central British Columbia settling at
Burns Lake. Orval and one driller operated two rigs, drilling
wells from Vanderhoof to Prince Rupert.
Then Orval and Cathern were allowed an agricultural lease on
Crown land near Terrace, which they had to develop to acquire
title. Orval sold out and retired in 1976. In 1983 they moved to
a place on the Moyie River near Yahk, B.C. and continued their
snowbird life traveling to California and Mexico in the winter.
Cathern died of cancer in 1988, and Orval moved his residence to
Saskatchewan. Orval advertised for a pen pal in The Sabbath
Sentinel. A friend of Dorothy Childs challenged her to write
Orval. Written correspondence between Saskatchewan and Oklahoma
soon turned into phone conversations. After a while, Dorothy gave
Orval permission to visit and in 1991 two people, each missing
happy, lifelong loving mates were soon married. They continued
traveling, but now the path from Mendham, Sask. to Bay of Angels,
Baja California, was a circuit that included Dorothy's family in
Oklahoma.
In 1999 macular degeneration in Orval's eyes forced them to
settle down near family. They rented the Heinbach place west of
Grand View, Idaho, and in 2002 moved into Grand View to have
neighbors closer.
Orval is survived by: his wife Dorothy; sons; Hugh (Gloria) of
Mountain Home, Hal (Warrine) of Wenatchee, Wash.; Harvey (Pat) of
Sandpoint, Quentin (Kathy) of Bonners Ferry, and Orval (Alinder)
of Centennial, Colo.; 13 grandchildren; and 21 great
grandchildren. He was preceded in death by his first wife
Cathern, his first-born son, and a grandson. Memorials in Orval's
name may be made to Rimrock Senior Citizens Center, Grand View,
ID 83624.
Even Man's Wrath Can Praise God
"Surely the wrath of man shall praise thee " (Psalm
76:10)
.
I once read of an infidel who received a tract in the mail
entitled "Prepare to Meet Thy God." He was about to
throw it into the trash can in disgust when the thought occurred
to him to send it as a joke to one of his companions in unbelief.
The joke boomeranged, for the second man, who probably would
never have taken a tract from a Christian, accepted this one,
read it, and was converted. But this was not all. He in turn
mailed the tract to a third skeptic, who also accepted Christ.
The "wrath" of unbelievers also has been known to
praise God in other ways. Some years ago an avowed atheist and
his wife were leaving a house, where they had boarded for several
months. As they bade the landlady goodbye, the conversation
turned to religion, and the man declared his disbelief in God's
existence.
"You mean you do not believe God exists?" the landlady
queried.
"No, I do not," the man replied brusquely.
"Well, let me tell you how you confirmed my faith in God.
You did not know it, of course, but when you and your wife
knocked at my door several months ago and asked whether we had a
room for rent, my daughter and I were down on our knees, praying
that God would send us some means of livelihood. We were out of
food and penniless. When we heard your knock we arose, and I
remarked to my daughter, 'Before they call, I will answer; and
while they are yet speaking, I will hear'" (Isa. 65:24).
"After you had arranged to room and board with us, I
wondered how I was going to buy food for your first meal. Do you
recall that just as we got to the garden gate you turned to me
and said, 'Here is a pound note I am putting down as a deposit.'
You did not know it, of course, but your act was an answer to
prayer. Is it any wonder that I believe in God and that He cares
for His children?"
What prompted the atheist's action we can only guess, but he did
admit, "Madam, what you have said is a stronger argument for
God's existence than many others 1 have heard."
The Word of God indicates that even scoffers can fulfill His word
without realizing it. For instance, it predicts that "there
shall come in the last days scoffers.... saying, Where is the
promise of his coming? for since the fathers fell asleep, all
things continue as they were from the beginning of the
creation" (2 Peter 3:3, 4).
No, God is never left without a witness. If we fail to give His
message to others we lose a great blessing, but His truth sweeps
ever onward-even if the wrath of man must praise Him.
Reprinted from New Every Morning, p. 83. Author: Donald Ernest
Mansell. Publisher: Review and Herald Publishing, 1981.
May-June 2005.
MY GRANDPA
When I heard you left us, my thoughts wandered
back to a 'younger' time:
...When I was a young girl I rather feared you.
When I was a bit older I learned to respect you.
When I was a young woman I revered you. And when you got older I
wished to honor you.
Some things I remember: The scoldings we received
The fences we built
The meals we shared
Heavy conversations of religion and politics
The hard work and horseback rides
Cold winter mornings
The hearth full of logs
And in the kitchen smells of potatoes for breakfast
The berries and nuts and sandwiches for brunch
The toilet outdoors
The bears in the woods
The warm feather beds
Log floors with Grandma's knitted slippers
Family "get-togethers," the Pacific Coast trails Your
"hard earned" life
The sides of beef
The pork from the ceiling
Your words of wisdom
Your honorable ways And my long walks to school
The cold winter nights filled with warmth from the fire
Your books to read and your books you wrote
Grandma's letters written on bark And knowing your bark was worse
than your bite!
Ride on my Grandpaand this time, as many times
beforeyour horse is your transport, and for me and
for many, you will always and forever have a place in
our hearts for all eternity and throughout history,
old or new.
I LOVE YOU, YOUR GRANDDAUGHTER, SHARON FAY
HARDEN
TSS
May
- June 2005 The Sabbath Sentinel
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