Climbing the Mountain page 4 Reminiscences of Margaret Wuerflein Klammer (1891-1985) Written in 1976, her 85th year Go to Beginning Go to Ending Return to Home page

time, and so on May 9, 1902 I started working for these people, doing every odd job and also taking care of little Lorenz Heckt, when the lady of the house was busy elsewhere. In spite of the fact that I had to work hard and go to schools those were my happiest years. I learned easy and so didn't have to worry about my lessons. We especially enjoyed the hours we spent a couple of times a week at the feet of our old minister, Pastor Koessler. He was an old man and since we were only eleven students in our confirmation class he had us come to his house for instruction, and we loved and respected him very much. I was confirmed on April 12, 1904. Coming back from my wanderings, we return to our mountain. As we turn the corner we come upon this sign: "Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, 'ere the days come in...which thou shalt say I have no pleasure in them." Eccl. 12:1... a warning for all young people and especially teenagers. Leaving childhood behind we go through the treacherous teen years, with its confusion and temptations. We try to learn what life is about. Often we are too shy to talk to the more experienced elders for fear of being laughed at, which happens all too often. As we climb higher, the temptations increase and if not on guard, one can fall so easy into diverse sins, mostly through ignor- ance. But the good Lord and Shepherd of our souls sees to it that we rise again, maybe more or less bruised, but we go on through the years, and by and by we pass through them, some- times over rocky ground and thorny thickets. Oftentimes we are a little burned by the fires of youth. We have to go one step at a time. During my teen years, at the age of 14, my mother and I also emigrated to America. During a flu epidemic in the fall of 1904, my dear old father had passed away. He was only 62 years old, but I thought he was a very old man. He is buried in Wernsback. I remember my first trip to the city of Ansback with my father. What a thrilling experience! We visited my brother George who was learning the blacksmith trade there and he showed me the Jewish church. I can still remember my father taking me to Wernsback to the 'Kirchweihfest' and I got my first ride on a carousel (merrygo-round). My mother never went anywhere and if she did visit her sister she went alone. I don't remember too much of my father as he was gone to work before I was up, sometimes walking two hours to work, and I would be in bed when he came home at night. His trade was a stone mason and so he had to go where the building was going on. Once when a company of soldiers were camping in our village, the man I worked for sent me to Ansback to get supplies, like sausage and cheese, to feed them. It was in the summer and I was the only one who could be spared. I must have been around 12 years old then. Since I had been in Ansback before with my father I knew the