My Grandma Fannie never graced a pulpit wearing clerical robes. She did not have a theology degree either. Certainly, no one ever addressed her as a Reverend.
Yet one spring day in 1951 Fannie Martin Longenecker preached to the residents at Orville Mennonite Home.
Her oratory was not flowery. Instead, verses from scripture and lines from hymns adorned her sermon.

My sister Jean found this among papers as we cleared out another house on Anchor Road. Her manuscript is unedited except to transpose her words from cursive writing to digital print. It was written on the backside ofΒ a green bill of sale from Longenecker Farm Supply.
The kitchen by the bay window was her favorite place to study.
My grandmother began her sermon with a declaration:
At the end of lifeβs journey you and I have an appointment to meet God. To those who have accepted Christ and lived for him, this will be a joyous occasion, and to hear these words β Well done, good and faithful servant, Enter thou into the joys of the Lord.
She continued with scriptural promises:
To that prepared place, for a prepared people. Your passage has been paid and he says β Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they may have a rightΒ to the tree of Life, and may enter in thro the gates, into the city. The dawn of life is beautiful, but the Sunset of a well lived life life is glorious, the reflection of him, in whose image we were created shines out more perfectly, or is it the glow of the Eternal City β as we draw nearer to it?
Then she gave her audience glimpses of the heaven she believed in It included an exhortation to prepare for our dying day
There are things which will not be there β no trials, temptations, disappointments, sickness, sorrow, pain or death, not anything that destroyeth or maketh a lie. Here we will find perfect peace and rest, and we will serve him without hinderances.
It would be time well spent, if each day we would meditate on our leaving earth, our pilgrim journey over, and going home, to be with the Lord which is far better.
Her sermon ended with a reference to Psalm 23:
Let us strive to enter in at the straight gate. As we look back over our lives, we look up to God & say with David β Surely goodness & mercy have followed us all the days of our life, May you with me look forward with great joy to entering into the celestial city whose builder and maker is God. So shall we ever be with the Lord.
Before she sat down, she referred to the lyrics of a song βFinally Homeβ by L. E. Singer. She probably over-used the ampersand and misquoted the words which are accurately recorded here.
I think of stepping on shore, & finding it Heaven.
I think of breathing new air, & finding it Celestial air
I think of feeling invigorated, & finding it immortality.
I think of passing from storm & tempest, to an unknown calm
Think of waking up, and finding it home!
The date of this sermon is August 25, 1951. She was almost 60 then and lived nearly thirty more years after that. The date on her obituary leaflet is April 28, 1980, which we commemorate this week. A candy-pink Japanese cherry tree was in bloom in her front yard the week she died, and lilies of the valley spilled white on a bank under the pear tree in the back yard.
One of my sisters has dubbed her St. Grandma. Do you have an ancestor you hold in high regard for religious (or other) reasons? Tell us about it here. An ancedote orΒ story that comes to mind?
Good morning, Marian! I love the photo of your St. Grandma at the end of your post. She seems to radiate goodness, but with some humor, too.
I admire the relatives of my grandparents’ generation (and some of their parents) who made the difficult decision to immigrate to the U.S. and a totally different way of life.
Merril, you are first up today – good morning to you and thank you. Yes, I do remember the frightful challenges of your ancestry, some involving the horrors of persecution and war.
Yes, my Grandma was a blend of goodness and good humor. I heard someone say of her, “She didn’t have a mean bone in her body.”
What a beautiful sermon, Marian. I’d like to think my grandfather’s last sermon was just as lovely. I was a baby when he collapsed at the pulpit while giving a sermon to his congregation. Sadly, he had passed on by the time my grandmother reached his side.
Your grandfather preached his own eulogy and at the pulpit where he served so faithfully. And probably your grandmother was embraced in comfort immediately. What a story, Jill! Others will be amazed by your anecdote. Thank you!
Well, reading this Marian I feel uplifted. She was clearly always uplifted with her strong and unwavering faith. I love her vision of life after death. I agree with Merril that she radiates goodness with a twinkle or three in her merry eye. Our ancestors had such different lives from ours. Different trials and challenges – mine were from elsewhere before coming to live in South Africa. I can only imagine what they had to face and overcome … thank you for this post, it is quite lovely!
I think you have English ancestry. Right? Adapting to more than one culture would have been a challenge for them and subsequently for your family. I’m glad the post inspired you, Susan.
I agree with everyone above that this post speaks directly to the heart. For me, as for Merril, the photo said so much about your grandmother. I have seen similar smiles on the faces of those who have lived lives rooted and grounded in both earth and faith and yet who cast their eyes above habitually, feeling God’s presence and wanting to pass on assurance and kindness to others.
So many other thoughts ran through my mind: the thank you-notes and Christmas letters we get from Stuart’s Old Order Mennonite relatives, that always include: the weather, Bible verses, especially the promise of heaven, and perhaps some inspirational poetry. Janie’s grandma in Their Eyes Were Watching God, who always wanted to be a preacher. I also love that you are recording her handwriting, another window into the soul of “Saint Grandma.”
Roots in the earth and eyes on the eternal city. You summed up my Grandma’s worldview perfectly and that of others like Stuart’s relatives.
Thank you for remembering the detail about Janie’s grandma. I taught Zora Neale Hurston’s book many times to lit students but don’t remember that reference.
We have the handwriting because of our sorting through mounds of paper since February. Your comment spurs us on. Thanks from the bottom of my heart, Shirley.
Marian β I thoroughly enjoyed reading St. Grandmaβs insightful sermon. And oh that last photo β the one where sheβs smiling that beautiful smile β is simply wonderful!
Aside from my mom, another ancestor I hold in high regard is her dadβ my grandpa Henning. He was blind and both of his legs were amputated at the knee, but you would never know it. He was a kind-hearted, inspiring man who lived his life full tilt.
Some of that rich Henning spirit has worked itself into your DNA, inspiring your life and now your award-winning book. No mud, no lotus, said one wise woman. Apparently that was Grandpa Henning’s attitude toward his physical limitations. Thanks for this note and your sweet tweet, Laurie.
Because of the constant upheaval in Ukraine from 1912-1943, of all my grandparents, only my maternal grandmother survived. She was a very strong woman, both physically and spiritually. When I read the title of your post, my mind immediately went to her, because that is who she was–a preacher! Before she arrived in Canada she was a beacon of light to many in the refugee camps. She taught Sunday School and organized hymn sings and Christmas events, and encouraged teen-agers. When she arrived in Canada she was 55 years old. Unfortunately at that time the Mennonite church she attended switched over to English and she couldn’t handle that. In her mind her language was so connected to her religion that she felt it was sinful to worship in any other language. She remained at home in her little house in the country, living with her brother who was single. She, just like your grandmother, had a table in front of the window where she studied her Bible, read the Mennonite papers and wrote letters. I can still see her face when she prayed–complete concentration and devotion reflected there. She was also a great Bible Story teller. She died of pancreatic cancer in 1976 at the age of 82. My husband and I were in Africa at the time. In One of my blog posts (July 15, 2012) I summarized her life story. I entitled it “Shattered Dreams, Lost Lives.” I think my grandmother suffered from PTSD once she was settled in Canada. At the time we didn’t have a name for it.
Some of your maternal grandma’s traits have been replicated in your own life story. I can imagine our grandmothers would have become fast friends, loving and serving in equal measure.
I felt a twinge of grief reading that you missed your grandmother’s memorial service, yet she would applaud you decision to remain in Africa. “Shattered Dreams, Lost Lives,” – what a story. I must read that one too. Thank you, Elfrieda.
Marian, How wonderful that your grandmother had such a solid faith in the Lord. And, as a writer, she helped spread the good news in both a personal and artful way … her legacy lives on thanks to you, another writer. I think it’s fantastic how you are preserving your family history through this blog and, what I assume, will eventually be publication of a book/memoir about yourself and Mennonite women?.
I always wished I’d known my grandmother, Annie Beatrice Dean Weidener. She died when I was five years old. She had an interesting life story as a woman entrepreneur running her own boarding house in Germantown … getting engaged at seventy-four after being widowed for close to twenty years. Plus, she had come to this country from England as a young girl with her aunt. She is buried in an Episcopal Church cemetery, somewhere, I think, in Germantown … maybe even St. Luke’s. One of these days, I plan to find it and visit as I have only one distant memory of Dad and Mother taking me there to place white lilies on her grave at Easter. It was a rainy gray day, typical of Pennsylvania, and the cemetery was small, had those leaning tombstones with green mold on them. So many years have passed … you inspire me to write more about my family.
Do you feel another blog post coming on, Susan? Maybe even the opening chapter of your next opus. You already have some vivid detail with your Grandmother Weidener’s burial site.
I thought I knew the focus of my memoir. Now with your query, I’m beginning to question it, as I write constantly about the matriarchs in my family here. Thanks for checking in today widening our story circle.
Your Grandma’s words on the backside of the green bill of sale remind me of my own St. Grandma, “Esther,” and the ways I value and listen to her notebooks and writings.
I am glad to live when Mennonite women serve as pastors.
Your grandma’s name suggests strong attributes: duty, courage, faith. In Persian, I think Esther means star, a bright reminder of her legacy. Though I am no longer Mennonite, I applaud women as pastors. Ruth Brunk Stoltzfus was the first woman that I know of to be ordained to the ministry in any of the eastern conferences. Many others have followed. Thanks, Dolores.
I love your interpretation of Esther, and, yes, it fits my St Grandma. Esther is also my middle name.
My sister Jean dubbed Grandma Fannie as St. Grandma recently. We all agree it fits her to a tee. I noticed above that you mentioned the ways I value and listen to her notebooks and writings. Did she make audio recordings too?
What a beautiful, spirit-filled woman Grandma Fannie was, Marian. Thank you for sharing her with us. You bring her alive with your heartfelt words. My “Saint Grandma” was Great-Grandma Ranze. She didn’t preach but led by her faith-filled example of trusting in God’s goodness and mercy every day. As a young teen, she emigrated from Southern Italy and had an arranged marriage. He died at the age of 33, when she was pregnant with her 9th child. Her faith never waivered. She lived until the age of 83 and was surrounded by her family who adored her.She is very much alive to me today.
I believe Great-Grandma Ranze made an appearance in your first memoir, Ever Faithful to His Lead. Perhaps you’ve done a post on your great-grandma, but if not you could answer many questions: How did she cope with nine children on her own? Did she have bright spots in her life? Did she remarry? Have a career? And on and on.
Your sweet smile cheers me on, slugging away still on the old homestead. Thanks bunches, Kathy.
That’s what I mean, Marian. GG Ranze got by by the grace of God. Her children and grandchildren, especially were the lights of her life. She never remarried or had a career. Her young husband ran a saloon and after his death, one of his partners took off with all the money and the business closed, leaving her destitute. It really is amazing that she managed to survive and thrive. Yes, she showed up in my first memoir and also makes a cameo appearance in my WIP memoir. Good luck wrapping up the old homestead. No doubt an exhausting, bittersweet undertaking. Hang in there!
We all get through by the grace of God. In GG’s case, such intervention was more obvious. Survival instincts run strong in your family, as your own life illustrates. Bless you, Kathy!
I’ll cling to your words “Hang in there!” Help is coming from unexpected sources these days. We are so thankful younger and stronger hands have volunteered lately.
A little humor in my life from Marian’s Grandmother:
Not long after I met “Grandmother-of-the-birds” I was staying upstairs in one of their guest bedrooms. One morning after I freshened up in their bathroom I casually descended the long carpeted stairway with pants, socks and shoes on …but wearing a white T-shirt. The next thing that greeted me was glaring eyes and a very loud voice, “GOOD NIGHT MAN, GET SOME CLOTHES ON!”
Shocked, I looked at my body and found to my relief I was not a hide nor hair naked. Silencing my otherwise verbal explanation I knew I couldn’t win this argument. I abruptly turned back up the steps and slipped a dressier sports shirt over the white shirt.
I had witnessed a normal smiling, always caring, kind-hearted grandmother come out of a cage like a roaring lion! Anytime I was in her sphere (born in 1891) I was sure to rehearse my lesson.
I was an eyewitness to this incident from long ago. Grandma was full of jolly good humor, but heaven help you if you violated her strict Victorian standards of dress and decorum. Thanks for giving me a chuckle, dear. π
A wonderful story from Cliff. My great grandmothers would have said something similar!
Grandma was irate. Cliff was puzzled at her reaction. She probably followed up with, “I can’t believe you would do a thing like that!”
You have such a rich history with your family Marian. Your grandmother certainly had the making to be a preacher with her wise words. One doesn’t have to be in church to give a sermon, just as one doesn’t have to go to church to pray. So your grandmother could very well have made a great preacher. π
Wise and true words. And I am aware of our rich history and deeply grateful for it. How about that “email notification” button. Just for you, Debby!
Yay Marian. This is the first time your reply came up in my notifications without having to even go to email. We’re rockin’ now! π
Wowza, Deb! π
π π
Scrolling through the comments, I was rewarded with Cliff’s hilarious memory. I can just hear Grandma. Good think she doesn’t have to live with today’s styles. But that last photo truly is just beautifully perfect. My Aunt Susie was my saint–as much for what she did, as said. My tribute to her was here: https://findingharmonyblog.com/2014/04/15/awesome-aunt-susie-roth-mennonite-bible-school-teacher-extraordinaire/
I clicked on the link and discovered my reply to your Aunt Susie post. And I again relished how she characterized her walk with the Lord, like βhaving cookies with Jesus.β Yes, Melodie, we have a goodly heritage.
What a beautiful tribute to your grandma! She must have been a lovely person! I love the pictures you posted too! Thanks for sharing her with us!
You are welcome! And thanks for popping up here with a comment, Anita. You have some sturdy stalwarts in your heritage, including your faithful father, who I believe was ordained to the ministry.
Thank you, Marian, for sharing the bright side and the more difficult side of your grandma and make her a fully rounded human being with saintly and judgmental leanings. I had a mild loving accepting grandma and a fierce operatic temperamental grandma. Sounds like your grandma was both in one body. It must have taken courage for her to give a sermon at a time when not many women took that role. I love Cliff’s contribution. Your husband always had a good sense of humor.
She would not have been welcome in the pulpit, but she spoke fervently when she had the opportunity: in her women’s Sunday School class, and most importantly, with her pure life.
Thank you for reading the comments and drawing them into your reply. Early in our marriage, Cliff wrote a poem about Grandma L, a discovery I made this week. He didn’t know his own grandmas very well and claimed Fannie as his own. And yes, his sense of humor has kept me sane through many a rough patch.
I hold my two great grandmothers in high regard and have written about them in the past. https://darlenefoster.wordpress.com/2016/09/18/the-sunday-living-history-interview-a-tale-of-two-katharinas-a-legacy-of-strong-women-by-darlene-foster/
I love that you called your grandmother St. Grandma!! My grandmothers attended church regularly but I don’t believe they ever preached a sermon, at least not in public.
I enjoy when readers see parallels in their own ancestors lives. Your Katharinas were “formidable elderly women with hearts of gold.” I wouldn’t characterize Grandma Fannie as formidable but she certainly was a woman to be reckoned with. Because she was a woman, no one would have said that Grandma preached a sermon. They would have said “she gave a talk” or something similar. Thank you, Darlene!
I am forever in awe of you and your family Marian and I make no exception for your lovely Grandma .
My .Dad always instilled in us that everyone can move mountains and in your Granma’s case , she proved it . I wonder how many people sitting in church that day were inspired by your Grandma’s words and possibly went on to move there own mountains .
I shall put my Dad forward because his words inspire me to this day βΊοΈ
Cherryx
I know you adore your dad. It’s marvelous when someone you admire so much is also a family member. I’m not sure whether your humor and whimsy came from your mum’s or your dad’s side, but it is certainly planted in your DNA. Have a great weekend, dear Cherry! π
My Dad I guess but Mum was equally wonderful but all my life she really suffered with mental health problems , so bless her, her sense of humour was limited. You too have a wonderful weekend β€οΈ
Cherryx
%-)
What an amazing grandma!
Yes, Fiona, and she still lives in memory and on paper. Lately I’ve found a notebook of her vocabulary words for school and also a diary entry dated April 1, 1931 recording the theft of a brood of chickens and 9 rabbits from their barn.
I tell you how I missed your blog. I praise God for the blessing to have been a part of this family. Grandma longenecker was a great women. She always spoke wisdom with humor. Aunt Ruthie was always a teacher with a sense of humor. Mom was always a great strong women to have such strong women in her life and a great relationship. How I miss them all. I know God loves me to take me to such a great home. Dad how he loved God and served him. Every morning before going to church he’d play the piano singing fill my cup Lord. If I didn’t have them in my life I wouldn’t have the spiritual base for my family. I AM so blessed.
Gloria
You became part of the family when you met my mom and dad. And then it went on from there. There is no better blessing than when children rise up and call them blessed. Thank you for this encouraging comment, Gloria. And God bless you as you influence your own family in so many positive ways, among them being a great example and making precious memories.