Lisa Barry: What are your recollections of grandparents growing up? For me, it's people who always had time for me, who always thought my artwork was the absolute best they had ever seen in their seven decades of life. For some children, the grandparents become their parents for one reason or another. Such was the case for Lars Gren. He's Elisabeth Elliot's husband.

All this week we're hearing about what life was like living in Norway with his grandparents. So now not only are the grandparents the encouragers, but they've become the disciplinarians as well. The story takes many twists and turns, and I'm sure you're going to enjoy the adventure of today's program. Get comfortable and get ready for another installment of Gateway To Joy. Here's Elisabeth to get us started.

Elisabeth Elliot: "You are loved with an everlasting love." That's what the Bible says. "And underneath are the everlasting arms." This is your friend Elisabeth Elliot, talking today with my husband, Lars Gren. That is a Swedish name, actually. Lars' father was from Sweden. His mother was from Norway. But he's been telling us a little bit about his childhood, living with his grandparents in Norway.

We finished yesterday with a story about a business that you had begun with your cousin in Norway. Just review that for us.

Lars Gren: In light of what you just said, I do have to say that the last name, though Swedish, "Lars" is certainly as much Norwegian as anything else. Since I lived in Norway for that length of time, why, I consider the name more Norwegian than Swedish, even though I'm half and half.

Elisabeth Elliot: Thank you for that.

Lars Gren: I rarely admit to that. Well, the last time was something about "Lars rόyker," which means "Lars smokes." The end result might be described that way. I really wound up smoking, but in a different sense. Bjarne kept saying that, until Far came walking down the street. He was sure to hear it, which he did. Then he came in and straightaway found me and said to me, "Hva er dette jeg hόrer om deg?" which means, "What is this that I hear about you?"

Elisabeth Elliot: This was your grandfather speaking.

Lars Gren: Far. Yes. "Do you smoke?" And I'm grateful to say that I did not lie. I just said, "Yes, I had smoked." Well, we went into the normal routine for disobedience or for chastisement or for some kind of a discipline. I had to go to the pantry door. On the back of the pantry hung the birch branches, all tied together. Now the normal procedure at that time would just be to come back, give the branches to Far and I'd have to put my pants down and I'd get a few licks. Then I'd go and hang up the birch branches again.

But on this occasion, it was the only time he ever did this. He took me out of the house, around the back of the church and under a plum tree. Why he picked the plum tree and why he went out, I don't know. But at that spot, the birch branches were laid on me. Actually, it did good, because it worked. I don't think that I ever smoked any of it. Also of course, having been found out what we were doing with the tobacco, I think the whole tobacco industry that I was involved with sort of dwindled down to nothing. Bjόrg and I retired.

Elisabeth Elliot: But you would not say that your grandfather was unjust in punishing you with a birch branch.

Lars Gren: Oh, absolutely not. No. Absolutely no.

Elisabeth Elliot: And you knew very well at that time that you deserved it.

Lars Gren: Yes. Yes. It was not the only time that I had disobeyed and I had received some little application of the birch branches for it. And I think looking back, in every instance I can only thank him and know that it was just and he did it so nicely. It was just really well done.

I can only think of one time when I was disobedient and I did not get any kind of a chastisement from him. That was in the winter, when I asked one morning to go skiing. He told me no. This was again with my buddy Bjarne. And of course he went off to work, and Mor, she was busy in the house. So the thought came to me that no one would be the wiser if I just took the skis and went on up the hill.

Well, I did that. We got the skis out, and the two of us, we went up on this hill. And you've been there. You've seen the hill and I have pointed it out to you. It's not any kind of a steep hill, but it was fun to ski on. Everything went great, until on one run going down, the kids had put a little wooden box and made a little ski jump out of it. And in using it, the snow had worn off so that there was wood exposed. So when my one ski hit the wood, the left ski, which was on snow, the left leg-the ski kept going nicely-but my right leg and ski stopped, all of a sudden. I wound up with a broken leg. That actually was the first time that I had been on skis, I think.

So there I was, in the middle of the hill, with a broken leg. A lady put me on what they call a "spark," which is a long runner sled with a seat on it. She got me home. One of the ironic things on that was that she was a Norwegian who wore a Nazi pin on her. She belonged to the what you might call "turncoats." Anyway, she got me home. Then of course my leg was in a plaster cast for three months, up to the hip, and I got a stiff leg out of it.

But Far never said anything. He mentioned it that I had disobeyed, but he never applied anything. I guess he figured the broken leg was enough of a tool to teach.

Elisabeth Elliot: I like Vance Havner's definition of a spanking. He called it the posterior application of superior force. And it is a very effective method.

Lars Gren: It's a good tool, used correctly.

Elisabeth Elliot: Now I think you have a story about fish soup.

Lars Gren: Well, we've been over that one a few times when we've been on the road, and telling people about it. So you know it so well, I ought to have you tell it.

Elisabeth Elliot: My Norwegian isn't too good.

Lars Gren: Well, it's a little different. It's an illustration, I guess, of making do with what you have. But one evening at supper, Mor had made homemade fish soup, and it was at that time. I decided I didn't like it. Well, you don't have much choice in the conditions of war what you're going to eat or not. You generally eat what's on the table. But I got stubborn and said I didn't want it. So when they had finished their dinner, they got up from the table and Far said to me that I could just sit there at the table until I ate my soup.

So I sat and they left. They went into the other room. I sat and looked at it and I just decided I was not about to eat that thing. Then I guess that's when the devil gets your attention, because all of a sudden I happened to look over at the stove, where the pot was sitting on the stove. There was a little leftover soup in the pot. I looked at the plate and I looked at the pot and realized that the kitchen was empty. So I tiptoed over and poured my soup back in the pot and then sat down again.

I guess I was real smart. I didn't just go in and say I'd finished. I just sat there with the empty plate. Well, it wasn't very long before Mor came in and looked at it. She looked at me and she said, "Have you eaten your soup?" I said, "Yes." She said, "Well, you can go then and get ready for bed," which I did.

Now the next morning, I had to get up and get ready for school. I came out for breakfast and I had a plate of cold fish soup sitting in my place. Of course, I asked, "Why the cold fish soup?" Mor asked me again if I had eaten the soup. Here is where I didn't have good sense, and I've had occasion to do that more than once in life. But I lied and said yes, I had.

But then she looked at me and she said, "Lars, I was behind the door." So she had seen me tripping across to that pot, putting the soup in. Of course, at that time if I had been smart, I would have said, "Well, I'm sorry," and eaten my soup. But I didn't. I went off to school. Then when I came home at lunch, the soup was sitting there. That was the best cold soup I've ever had in my life. I ate the whole thing.

But it did teach me something. You know, eat what's on the plate. And also, of course it was a lesson in telling the truth or a lesson in "Your sins will find you out."

Elisabeth Elliot: Well, they did, didn't they? The tobacco and the broken leg and the soup.

Lars Gren: Well, I think the soup, I guess, was the worst one. I think that was the worst. The tobacco business was pretty good.

Elisabeth Elliot: So when did you get back to the States? Or have you got some more Norway stories that you want to tell us before you tell us how you ever got back to America?

Lars Gren: Well, the whole time that I was there, of course I knew that even though Mor and Far were my parents as such, and I called them that and I was the son of his old age, they made me aware always that once the war was over, that I would be going to the States.

I had a picture of the family, my sister and my parents. I knew who they were and knew that I would be going that way.

Elisabeth Elliot: It must have been a strange thing for you to be imagining in your head that these people, whom you really had no recollection of ever having seen-you were going to have to meet them on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.

Lars Gren: Right.

Elisabeth Elliot: So we will pick up the rest of that story tomorrow. I've been talking with my husband, Lars Gren, who was reared for the first ten years of his life by his grandparents in Norway.

Lisa Barry: I'm sure hearing Lars speak today has led many of you to think about your own childhood. Have you given your children a written record of your life? Stories that may seem simple and commonplace to you may have a special significance to your children. Here's a suggestion. Go to a dime store and purchase a spiral notebook and begin writing down stories that you remember. Don't worry about chronological order. Just tell stories as you recall them. If your handwriting isn't the best anymore, then maybe you can use a cassette player and tell the stories out loud and record them. Your children will appreciate the history you were a part of.

If you'd like to purchase a copy of this series on grandparent stories, you can send $13, along with your request, to Gateway To Joy, Box 82500, Lincoln, Nebraska, 68501. Or call toll-free: 1-800-759-4JOY. That's 1-800-759-4569. Our Internet ministry address is gatewaytojoy.org. Gateway To Joy has been a production of Back to the Bible.

The story of Lars Gren continues tomorrow, so be sure and be with us for another Gateway To Joy.