Alley’s Mom

Her name is Maria Garcia.  Her son attends the junior high that I have passed each day since enrolling Jenna into a dual immersion program.  Juan had taken the bus to school each morning – for a while anyway.  Maria started driving him to school when the weather turned cold and the bus rides were even longer.  Jenna and I also took the bus.

About mid-December, Maria offered to drive us as well.  I thought that would end as the weather conditions got better – which they have.  We’ve had signs of spring at the end of February (I don’t recall EVER having spring so early before; seems so unfair when the nation’s capitol had to shut down due to the storms of winter.  Ouch!)

Maria continues to drive us.  She won’t accept payment for gas.  It’s really not that much.  But still, not much each day and week and month add up.  And I’m not spending money on bus passes anymore and so I have offered. 

The bus has never pulled into the school parking lot to let Jenna out; there has always been a good walk between the bus stop and the school – and then I’ve had to make the trip back but be home by 8:30 – usually.  Now I get back home at 8:00

 

 I have been more grateful some days more than others.  For the week of the sinus infection I was the most grateful.  And yesterday was wet and cold.  But today seemed rather nice.  I think we could start taking the bus again.  I’m not complaining.  Hey, if Maria wants to continue driving us, I’m okay with it.  And Jenna has been, too, actually.  Though I’m certain that will change once it warms up.

Thank you, Maria, for your willingness and gracious desire.  I truly appreciate it!

I’m Grateful for Diversity

In addition to celebrating the nations birthday in July, Utah also celebrates its roots with “Pioneer Day” or “the Days of ‘47”   On the 24^th of July Salt Lake holds its annual two hour parade in addition to the youth parade that takes place the week prior. 

“The Days of ’47” parade is well attended.  There’s several people who will actually camp overnight in order to get the perfect parade watching spots.  I happen to believe that all of these people are crazy – yet at the same time I admire their enthusiasm.  The parade is truly an awesome moment for them and I’m grateful for the enthusiasm.  I really am.  I’m also grateful that the parade is televised and I am able to watch it in my air conditioned home. 

I am not a parade person – actually I am not a crowd person.  I could handle the parade in Afton, Wyoming just fine.  I don’t think the entire population of their small town matches the tremendous amount of people flooding the downtown streets of Salt Lake on the 24^th.  I am actually a lot more comfortable with the peon parades that are less than an hour than with a band, another float, another horse, another . . .

But I’m not opposed to a two – three hour parade.  I just choose not to sit through it.  Especially in the blaring sun.  But that’s me.  That’s MY personality.  My sister-in-law, Sunny may have been one of those who camped out.  She LOVED the parade – probably still does – though I don’t think she gets downtown as often as she did when she was single.  My brother Patrick is less thrilled with the whole parade idea than I am – or at least he used to be.

I’m grateful for the diversity that makes us individuals. 

There is no paid ministry within the LDS Church.  Those who teach lessons or give talks are our peers from the same congregation.  We don’t sit in a meeting listening to the same speaker week after week.  There are a variety of speakers asked to speak on certain topics – often the same topic as the other assigned speakers.  And while Joe may speak with vigor and vibrancy, Eric’s talk may be more subtle – or he may just read with no eye contact whatsoever.  And maybe Eric is the only one who will actually get something out of his talk.  But Eric has reached someone that perhaps Joe cannot.

Veronica may type all the quotes from her lesson to pass out to class members to guarantee participation while Dorothy just stumbles through her lesson and gets nervous about the amount of participation.  Jade may do her lesson completely different from the other two and belt out the lesson without the microphone but have most of the sisters willing to eat her words.

I remember two neighbors who had come to visit my mom once a month.  Jody was by the book: “this is the lesson, this is the outline, and this is the message that God wants us to learn.”  Peggy seemed to “scan” the book.  She would give her one or two line lesson from the title.  Oh, she’d elaborate if more was wanted or needed – but her theory was: “you’ve had this lesson, you’ve given this lesson, and you know this lesson.  Here is a quick reminder”

It’s a good thing really.  Not everybody relates to all people.  Not everybody absorbs the message the first time or the second time.  Perhaps not even the fifth time.  And then there’s those of us who may think, “Yea, yea.  I ‘vet heard this message over a thousand times.  I’ve got it.” But do we really have one’s perspective or “take” on it?  And sometimes there are individuals that will say the words that we’ve already heard, but suddenly it takes on new meaning.  It suddenly makes more sense.  We may experience an “aha” moment – and it’s not because the message itself or even the words are new.  It has been presented in a different light.  A situation was given in which we can identify or appreciate. 

I remember my own mother practicing her lessons over and over again.  There are many times I know she felt inadequate about whatever calling she happened to have.  I know she wasn’t always pleased with her lessons.  She was constantly comparing herself to others who had been in her position.  I don’t think she understood the diversity is needed until after she’d given one lesson in particular

Lily had been inactive for years.  She returned on a day that my mom was the instructor.  Mom kept things simple according to her own understanding.  Lily thanked her for her lesson.  Mom was taken aback.  Her lessons weren’t anywhere near as powerful as when Peggy would present them.  But it was mom’s simpleness and delivery that Lily needed.  Peggy’s flowery words or method of presentation always seemed over Lily’s head.  It’s true that Peggy may have reached more sisters than my mom – but there were some people who actually weren’t comfortable with Peggy’s deliverance.  Diversity is needed in teaching because we are made up of a huge amount of diverse personalities.

Our current bishop is very soft spoken.  He really does put a tremendous amount of thought into his talks and his words are of importance – but I don’t think his delivery always settles well with the entire congregation – especially if he is the last speaker of the meeting.  My husband, on the other hand, can wake up the congregation.  Most people like his enthusiasm and deliverance – but not everybody does.  What one may have gotten out of the bishop’s talk may be missed in my husbands or vice-versa.

And then there are some people who are blessed and talented enough to learn from all talks and lessons.  They don’t fall asleep.  They don’t get bored. They are in tune with the Spirit (I fully admit that often I am not in tune) and then there are those of us that get much more out of the talk or lesson if we are entertained by deliverance (or at least not bored by it)

We all need the opportunity of presenting His message – even if it’s only for ourselves.  Perhaps the individual that I need to reach is myself – and if someone else should make discoveries while I am talking or teaching – great. We need diversity.  And just as with the parade – not every speaker or instructor is going to appeal to me – that doesn’t mean I can’t learn.  I appreciate the diversity.  I really do.

Being Grateful for Fleas

          On February 28, 1944 Corrie ten Boom was arrested along the rest of her family  for having broken the law. They had not turned in all of their bikes or radios.  They had not kept curfew.  They hid Jewish people.

          The entire family had been taken to Scheveningen prison in Holland.  Each member of the family was put into his or her own cell.  There was no contact between them – or even with the other prisoners. The cells were concrete with steel doors with a tiny slot in which food was inserted.  Their only contact was the voice of the gruff guards.

          And one day the guards didn’t come. In June 1944 Corrie and her sister Betsie were taken to Vught Concentration camp in Southern Netherlands.  For their uniforms, they were given paper thin dresses marked with X’s.  They were expected to perform heavy labor.  There was no communication among the prisoners and the guards were abusive. While at Vught, Betsie spent the majority of time in the infirmary due to failing health.

          As the war progressed, many prison camps were closed due to lack of funds.  In September of 1944 the ten Boom sisters ended up in their final prison camp.  Ravensbrück, located in northern Germany, was one of the last prisons to remain open. 

          Because so many other camps had closed, Ravensbrück was overcrowded with prisoners.  It was infested with lice and fleas.  The barracks reeked of urine.  But it was there they seemed to experience more freedoms had been deprived in the first two prisons.  That is, they were able to have face to face communication with the other prisoners and the guards didn’t seem to disturb them as much – especially in the barracks.

With their first night at Ravensbrück, Bestie offered a prayer of gratitude.  One of the things she said they ought to be thankful for was the fleas.  Corrie (as I, the reader) thought Betsie to be out of her mind.  And Corrie was certain that even God could not make her grateful for a flea. 

It isn’t until later in her biography that we learn that the guards didn’t bother the prisoners in the barracks because they didn’t want to be where the fleas were.

I have compared my trials to fleas.  I don’t enjoy having trials.  I love trials like I love fleas and poverty and hate and crime. I know that trials are necessary for growth, but you know, there are some times I would just like to take my hat off, toss it in the air and say, “Okay, enough already.  Please let me lay back long enough to understand what a breather really is.”

I try to express gratitude for things that I really am grateful for – my daughter, a stranger stopping to help change a flat, an answer to a question that has been on my mind, the unexpected chocolate chip cookies that my mouth so enjoys.  Little things.  Big things.  But not trials.

Yet how much better would my experience be if I could honestly say, “Thank you for the fleas” “Thank you for allowing the car to break down” “Thank you for yet another reminder from the IRS – this time a threat.  How joyful”

I realize that it is not the fault of God that my car would break down or run out of gas or what have you.  Actually, I’m very grateful that I have transportation and often thank my Heavenly Father for allowing me to get to and from destinations without having broken down.

            I recall teaching a primary lesson.  A boy in my class had lived in Oklahoma in April of 1995.  He related the following story about his primary teacher:

          She was on her way to work and was running late as it was.  Having to pull over on the freeway because of a bad car situation did not help matters.  One might not think of it as a blessing when it initially happened.  It was on April 19, 1995 when the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building was bombed – the very building where she worked.  She was still stranded on the freeway when the bomb went off.

          I’d like to be more gracious in thanking God for trials – for my own personal set of fleas.  Unfortunately there seems to be little humility on my end.  My pathetic attempts to show gratitude come out more sarcastically.  I suppose there has been a very good reason for having my ears clogged and hurtful sinus infections.  I don’t know the reasons right now.  Perhaps I’ll never know.  But I can still offer gratitude for the current “fleas” in my life.  I think it would help me become closer to God.  I know it would.

“Just What I’ve Always Wanted”

          Jenna rarely ever produces a long list of desired gifts for Christmas.  Usually she has her heart set on just one thing – and nothing else seems to matter.

          When Jenna was three the one and only thing she wanted was a Caillou doll.  Caillou is a cartoon character she really seemed into at the time.  I didn’t even know if any toy company made Caillou dolls.  I was guessing probably not.

          I researched but came up empty-handed, but didn’t want to disappoint her.  It was the ONLY thing she had asked for. As a last resort I made two paper dolls and included three sets of clothes for each doll hoping that it would satisfy her.

          Oh, I am so grateful to have captured as many memories on my camcorder (the old kind that took cassette tapes that probably isn’t even made anymore) of her as she opened each gift and would exclaim as she opened each gift,

“Candyland! (or whatever the gift happened to be) Just what I’ve always wanted!” 

It was so joyous for me to see her pleasant gratitude and happiness for each gift.  And she loved every one of them just as much as the two paper dolls.

This year it was an alarm clock. I can’t imagine why an eight year old believes she needs an alarm clock.  Santa will deliver it to her via Las Vegas.

What I'm Grateful for A-Z

My brother added to his Blog a Thanksgiving list in alphabetical order.  He adapted it from somebody else’s Blog – and now I am doing the same.

A       Agency        I am grateful for the opportunity to make choices. And for the freedoms that others have (and continue still) sacrificed so that I may enjoy my freedoms.

B        Brothers      I have always been closer to the younger one of the two – but both have been examples to me.  Both are active in Church.  One currently serves in the bishopric while the other will never have a calling – yet he serves in another capacity.  Each are on a quite a different journey.  Both remind me of my dad.

C       camera        I have always been grateful for the opportunity to preserve memories through photos and film

D       dad             what a great example of gratitude and prayer, humility and quiet strength – not just mine but the way my husband is to all children

E        Education    I received a fairly decent education in my youth.  Now there are charter schools, dual immersion programs, smart boards and the Internet – none of which exsisted when I was a youth.  I am grateful for the opportunities that my daughter has and will have at furthering her education.

F        foundations   I am grateful for the solidness of many friendships and my faith and religion and for the organization of things in my life

G       God             A knowledge of deity.  Being able to feel His presence.  All good things come from God.  G for goodness as well

H       Hospitality     I’m grateful to others for their assistance and also when I am in a position to help others.

I         imagination and invention – sometimes I think they work hand in hand. 

J        my daughter’s name starts with J.  I have enjoyed watching her grow – making discoveries, listening to her sing.  She truly is a miracle in our lives.  That is a post in itself.

K       knowledge   I’m grateful for the opportunities we have to learn and the availability for research and materials right at our fingertips.

L        light            It helps me see and find things – both physically and metaphorically

M       Music          I enjoy all kinds really, Christmas, children’s, contemporary Christian.  I enjoy vocals and instrumentals alike.  The world gets too quiet when there is no music

N       nurturing    I praise those that are able to provide guidance for those around them – to cater to individual needs without taking away from another.

O       Organization         I like knowing I can go to any ward (a geographical boundary for the Church) I will learn the same message and lessons and unity. 

P        paper          that’s where thoughts start – what my artistic daughter draws on.  Something more personal than the computer provides.  Homework, notes, letters, instruction . . .  ideas (for me) start out on paper

Q       quilt            I have a good friend who made a quilt for my husband and me over ten years ago – actually he’s made a number of quilts for children and grandchildren . . . quilts have a metaphorical meaning, too.  Patching pieces together – the fabric of our lives

R       my husband’s name starts with an R.  He shares many personality traits with my mother.  But he is a one of a kind gem like my dad was.  He’s extraverted – whereas dad and my brothers are introverted.  But they are all gems.

S        Sacrifice      I am grateful for those who are willing to give up something to benefit someone else.  I am grateful to those who came before me (pioneers) who risked so much to give us a better future.

T        teachers      educators by profession as well as those who are fine examples or are just blessed with the eloquence of words that help me understand or give my daughter their time

U       Understanding      I don’t always understand the explanations – but I am grateful when I do and I am grateful for the times that we can work things out through our understanding

V       Vacations    I used to travel with my family during the summer.  We most often went to Yellowstone or Disneyland.  I’ve not had many vacations with my current family for financial reasons. Vacations are just memories for me now.

W       written words       so many gifted authors and bloggers and shared life experiences and entertainment too.  I enjoy reading and I have always loved to write.

X       X marks the spot  I’m grateful for untangible treasures like knowledge, faith, wisdom, service . . . my husband and I are NOT blessed with financial treasures.  But we are rich in so many other ways.

Y       youth          I love rediscovering things through their eyes. I love their honesty and simplicity.

Z        Zion            or at least the idea of Zion