Westminster's Ark

by Jon Stine

My brothers and I always snickered at Dad's trophies.

Gathering dust on the dresser at the bottom of the stairs. Three of them, wooden bases, with silver cows on the top, draped with faded blue ribbons.

Evidence that, at one time, Dad was a farm boy. Showing dairy cattle at Midwestern state fairs.

He sure wasn't a farmer when I was growing up. Worked long hours at the local insurance company, managing the data services department. We lived in a Northern Indiana manufacturing town. Farms, though minutes away by car, were light years away in my mind.

I'm 43 now. Living in a major West Coast city. And as I walked up to the lectern at my church to share a moment for mission, Dad's trophies came once again into my mind.

Back in the war years, Grandpa Stine operated a dairy farm and purebred Guernsey breeding operation named Blossomdale in Elkhart County, Indiana. Dad raised dairy cattle, and showed in the state fairs in Indianapolis and Columbus and Springfield. He won Best of Shows, and blue ribbons aplenty.

He was 16 when one of the neighbor farmers -- who was also a good friend and leader in the area Church of the Brethren -- called Grandpa and some other local men over to his kitchen.

The neighboring farmer was named Dan West. Dan had served in Spain as a relief worker during that country's brutal civil war, and was filled with memories of never having enough milk to feed the thousands of refugee children. Now, with the horrors of World War II unfolding, Dan had an idea.

Instead of sending canned or powdered milk to post-war Europe, Dan said, let's send dairy cows. Heifers, so that the offspring can be given to other farmers. And then to other farmers. And so that, over time, entire communities can be sustained.

Great idea. My Grandpa moved that they form an organization, with Dan as President. They called it "Heifers for Relief." Grandpa agreed to be the treasurer.

And then Grandpa was asked if his 16-year old son would raise the first heifers.

Three heifers were put under Dad's care. They were named Faith, Hope, and Charity.

Now Dad never won a trophy with Faith, Hope, or Charity. Never went to the big state fair in Indianapolis to show them. All he did -- every morning, and every evening after the all-important Indiana high school basketball practice -- was provide good care.

But Dad would tell you -- just as I told my fellow parishoners -- that Faith, Hope, and Charity have brought the biggest reward that any purebred Guernseys could ever hope to achieve. Because from Dan West's vision and genius, Grandpa's farm, the hopes and prayers of many, and Dad's daily care emerged what we now know as Heifer Project.

In 1944 Faith, Hope, and Charity were sent to Puerto Rico. And in the months following V-E Day, the newly named Heifer Project organized shipments of top-quality dairy cows to Europe in an effort to re-build the German, Italian, and Yugoslavian dairy industries.

Dad was one of the "sea-going cowboys" who helped take the dairy cattle to Germany. And Frank Schmidt, a Kansas dairyman, was in the hold of the converted Liberty Ship that took Heifer Project cattle to Italy, and then Yugoslavia.

Fast forward to the year 2000, and Portland's Westminster Presbyterian. Two descendants of those Midwestern dairymen, quite removed from the farm, have played a role in Westminster's recent Heifer Project drive --- Frank Schmidt's granddaughter, Michelle Schmidt Leipzig, is a member of Westminster's Chancel Choir and, myself, elder, and husband of Westminster's director of youth ministry.

A "market" table was set up in Westminster's Great Hall, and members and friends were given the opportunity to purchase animals for the ark. The fund-raising goal for the "Ark" --- food-producing animals for 30 families --- was $5,000. After four weeks, more than $8,000 was contributed, which will help expand a Heifer Project that is currently "sharing the gift" in 118 countries around the world.