A TRIBUTE

By “Preach” Robison

As the oldest and last of the old-line of pheasant hunters, I’m sure I speak for all gone on and all of those more recent ones who knew Hazel.

Almost 64 years ago, when Mrs. Preach and I were getting married, Gene and Hazel Harmon were winging their way to South Dakota, facing the perils of sand storms in the summer and snow storms in the winter, to start a youth camp. Undaunted by the many obstacles, Byron Bible Camp was born, and later started a Pheasant Hunt Camp that touched the lives of hundreds of men. It was at Byron Bible Camp that the Harmons raised 8 children and influenced thousands around the world.

Twenty-five years later, we were privileged to become a part of their lives, and for 39 years we have made 55 trips to BBC, for almost every kind of camp they promoted. Mrs. Preach and Hazel immediately developed a friendship that has lasted throughout Hazel’s normal lifetime. My wife was saddened when physical complications set in, and also when Hazel passed away. We don’t always understand how God works His plan, but it’s all in His hands.

Everyone loved Hazel Harmon! Why? Because she possessed and exemplified the kind of spirit that compelled one to love her. Hazel was a unique and unusual individual who possessed an agape love and spirit that was contagious and unparalleled. She was versatile in so many ways…and adaptable to most any situation she faced.

Although she was short of stature, she was bigger than life itself and had a passion for everyone to know her Jesus. She instilled the same in her children Dan, Craig, Tom, Becky, Phil, Joel, Rachel and Sally, three of whom followed them in Camp Directorship and the others scattered throughout the world doing the same.

However, I see her in a higher eschalon….in Proverbs 31:10-31, where King Lemuel described his mother:

10 A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies.

11 Her husband has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value.

12 She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life.

13 She selects wool and flax and works with eager hands.

14 She is like the merchant ships, bringing her food from afar.

15 She gets up while it is still dark; she provides food for her family and portions for her servant girls.

16 She considers a field and buys it; out of her earnings she plants a vineyard.

17 She sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks.

18 She sees that her trading is profitable, and her lamp does not go out at night.

19 In her hand she holds the distaff and grasps the spindle with her fingers.

20 She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy.

21 When it snows, she has no fear for her household; for all of them are clothed in scarlet.

22 She makes coverings for her bed; she is clothed in fine linen and purple.

23 Her husband is respected at the city gate, where he takes his seat among the elders of the land.

24 She makes linen garments and sells them, and supplies the merchants with sashes.

25 She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.

26 She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue.

27 She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness.

28 Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her:

29 "Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all."

30 Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.

31 Give her the reward she has earned, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.

I see Hazel emulated in each verse. My tribute, however, to her is found in II Timothy 4:7-8, one of Paul’s prison letters just before his martyrdom in Rome, when he said, “I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith…henceforth…” As I read those words, I am aware that Hazel Harmon has fought a good fight, finished her earthly course, and surely has kept the faith. And when angel wings were “winnowing” around her bedside on February 9^th at 5:00 a.m. the death angel lifted her precious soul from that little, worn, tired, emaciated body and ushered it immediately in the presence of her Lord, Who handed her that crown of life He had promised!

My personal tribute is found in the poem Maurene McFadden titled “Because Your Life Touched Mine.” May her soul rest in peace.

BECAUSE YOUR LIFE TOUCHED MINE

We met as casual strangers And in the usual way,

We said, “I’m pleased to meet you,” For want of more to say.

But soon there came a feeling That something mighty fine

‘Within my soul was growing Because your life touched mine.

So as the passing moments Developed into days,

I find myself reflecting Upon your kindly ways;

And all the time this feeling That something mighty fine

Within my soul kept growing Because your life touched mine.

No matter where I wander, No matter what I do,

I’ll cherish precious moments Of days I spent with you;

Those memories e’re remind me That something mighty fine

Within my soul keeps growing Because your life touched mine.

Your life of true devotion And your determined will,

Shall be my inspiration To climb the steepest hill,

To fight the hardest battle, To keep myself in line,

And be a loyal Christian Because your life touched mine!

Maureen McFadden