Memories - The Canaan Years

As promised, I am continuing the journey of my childhood. The next part of my life was in a little town in the middle of Maine.

When most people think of Maine, they think of the rocky coast or the vast wooded northern wilderness or the ski slopes. Most people don't know about the rolling farm land of the middle of the state - fields of hay and corn, and lots and lots of cow pastures.

Canaan, Maine, is a blip on the map as you drive from Newport to Skowhegan on Route #2. When we lived there, from '71 -'75, there was a general store, a post office, a grange hall, a one-room library, an elementary school, a motel, an antique store, two churches (one which my father pastored), and not much more.

The parsonage was a huge, old house. It had ten rooms in the living part and at least ten more, if you count the barn/garage and animal pens. We didn't mind rainy or snowy days, because you could play tag or hide n'seek in the barn and never have to go outside. It had trap doors and hidden closets behind the back stairs.

An old car repair garage stood across the driveway from us. It used to be a blacksmith shop a hundred years ago. The church, Canaan Calvary Church was on the other side of the garage. The building was up, but the main auditorium wasn't finished. We met in the basement. There was a smaller building on the far side of the church where the youth group met. There was a row of tall elm trees along the street. (The next year, they developed Dutch Elm Disease and had to be cut down.)

Behind the house, there was room for a garden, which made my mother very happy. Beyond the garden space were a few old apple trees and a stream. Some fields and woods made for many adventures and good times.

We were happy. We felt like we had reached the Promised Land.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

This sounds like the kind of place where children thrive. Thanks, Vonnie!


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