Letters to the Editor: Winter 2019

As I was reading about Edgar Boevé’s passing in the latest issue of Spark, it triggered a memory of being a student in his summer session art class in 1973.

The daily class was divided into two parts with a 20-minute break in the middle. On a certain Tuesday, I went to the first half and didn’t go back after the break. The following day we were to have class at his house so he could show us the full array of art that he had. He set the class time at 7 a.m. What I didn’t know is that during the second half (which I had skipped), he changed the start time to 8 a.m.

When I showed up at his house the following day at 7 a.m., Ervina answered the door and asked what I wanted. When I told her that I was there for the art class, she said that I must have missed class the day before because he changed the time to 8 a.m. I said, “Great, I’ll go have breakfast and be back in an hour.” At that point she invited me in for breakfast. She made scrambled eggs, toast, and poured me a glass of orange juice. We talked for about 20 minutes until Edgar sat down at the table for breakfast. He greeted me, and then the three of us talked for about 40 minutes until the rest of the class arrived.

Awkward, funny, but truly amazing. This is validation of what was written about Edgar and Ervina in the Spark. They opened their home to students.

— Scott Ravenhorst ’75
Irvine, Calif.

My wife, Lois ’58, and I can see the cupola of the Franklin Street campus from the patio of our townhome in Grand Rapids. For our 60th wedding anniversary I decided to write a poem about it and put it on a bronze plaque. The foundry did a nice job of doing a relief image of the cupola from a photo I supplied. It stands in direct line of sight off from our patio.

— Tom Dykstra ’57
Grand Rapids, Mich.

In the spirit of gratefulness and encouragement, and in honor of her recent Faith & Learning Award, I pass along my appreciation to Arden Post for her kindhearted “contagious-passion” and endearing, hospitable ways.

I often have reflected how wonderful it was to be invited into her home. While she wasn’t the only professor of mine to do so, she was the first. She blessed me and made an impression.

While I didn’t become a professional certified teacher, I did enter a profession relying heavily on the ability to teach. While I did seriously consider education as a profession, I majored in biology, decided on pre-medicine studies, and eventually pursued a master’s in physical therapy and became a physical therapist.

Interestingly, my husband, Larry ’90, and I have homeschooled all six of our kids. When did I think teaching wasn’t for me? Additionally, leading in our children’s program at church, I’ve relied on wisdom gained through her (and others like her) that God has faithfully placed in my path. It makes me smile.

That’s my point: for us to praise God for how he has blessed us by weaving us together in ways we don’t clearly see or often appreciate, ways bigger and more unimaginable than we could even conceive.

So, I humbly speak up with a tiny voice from the back seat of a class held long ago: Thank you for your life’s work. May God continue to bless you richly!

— Julie Geels Koornneef ’89
Lakewood, Colo.