Blessing from the Pope

We wen to the Vatican today - as that is where the hotel shuttle bus drops us off. The Vatican was the first place we visited when we arrived. We saw the Sistine chapel and Vatican museum with virtually no lines. Today, however, was a totally different story. There were people snaked around the outside wall of the Vatican for blocks. As we walked to the Castel Sant'Angeloacross from the Vatican, we faced waves of people making their way to the center of the courtyard to receive blessings from the Pope. Greg asked it I thought I needed blessings from the Pope, but I was happy to leave more for the others who clamored for a prime position.

The Castel was amazing. A woman I met on the plane to Atlanta said it was one of her favorite things in Rome. I liked it as well. It was more "put together" than some of the other sites.

After seeing Trevi Fountain, Plazza Navona, and the Pantheon, we had a wonderful Italian lunch on the street - Ravioli and Brechetta. Yum!












Outside the Pantheon

Inside the Pantheon

Piazza Navona

Colosseum

If I had only seen Gladiator - the whole Colosseum day would have been better. But even without the benefit of the movie, it was an awesome place.

Ah ha!

I just had an "ah ha" moment. I have figured out why my sister-in-law, Lori, can spend days with Photoshop. It is SO AWKWARD to use. I just spent over an hour to add a wordle (of my Relief Society lesson) to an image of a loaf of bread for a handout. I'm using Elder Christofferson's talk on "Give Us This Day our Daily Bread", but combining the images was PAINFUL. I sure hope it gets easier, because nothing about this is obvious.

Rome here I come...

I head to Rome within the week for a conference. In searching for a guidebook, when I found this "Lonely Planet" book dedicated just to Rome, I remembered Stephanie's fiance always referring to the Lonely Planet. So, Gabe, I'm trusting you on this one.

The book has already been good luck. Greg saw it on the counter and volunteered to come with me. It should be a great time.

Dot to dot

I have been reading several books by Sue Monk Kidd. In an early book, Firstlight, she says that she keeps one of those dot-to-dot pictures, a gift from a four-year-old, on her desk. A complicated picture is formed by simply moving the pencil from dot to dot – in many cases, the "artist" does not even know what she is drawing. On days when I can’t see where my life is going or tremble at the fears of the unknown, I cling to that image and tell myself, “Dot to Dot. You do not need to solve everything at once. Just move to the next dot.”

In a recent CES fireside address, Elder Christofferson's message was similar.He states, "In the 1950s my mother survived radical cancer surgery, but difficult as that was, the surgery was followed with dozens of painful radiation treatments in what would now be considered rather primitive medical conditions. She recalls that her mother taught her something during that time that has helped her ever since: “I was so sick and weak, and I said to her one day, ‘Oh, Mother, I can’t stand having 16 more of those treatments.’ She said, ‘Can you go today?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Well, honey, that’s all you have to do today.’ It has helped me many times when I remember to take one day or one thing at a time.” I love that.

Remembering Great Grandma Hurst

While the grandkids do not remember Great Grandma Hurst, I like to think of the joy she must get looking down and seeing them play trains on her oak table. In her home, the table held a place of honor in her living room - a remembrance of the styles and values of her childhood. Seeing them play with trains and enjoy books reminds me of my mother and the things she loved most - relationships, children, and education.

Jello Water Eggs

Baths have always been a fun time with the grandkids. The bath toys are a motley collection - play food, kitchen toys, travel squirt bottles, an over-sized spider that Drew does NOT allow in the water, and a jello mold for Easter eggs. I started to explain that my Mother had given the pink plastic jello mold to the kids. You filled it from the top, set the jello, and then had to unmold it by placing it in hot water. I told Brooke and Drew that it never worked very well. Either it would get stuck or you would leave it too long, creating watery jello eggs. Drew thought Jello Water Eggs sounded great. So we would submerge the egg tray under water to fill it. Then, I would swing the tray, flipping water over everyone and singing

I'm going to school with my jello water eggs
I'm going to school with my jello water eggs
I'm going to school with my jello water eggs
OHHH, what happened? All my jello water eggs are gone.

Drew would laugh and laugh, pointing to my wet shirt,and clamoring, "Again, Again."

Here is a picture of Brooke with the tray for Jello Water Eggs.

After bath, Brooke heads to the closet to begin the fashion show with Grandma's shoes and her fancy dress.

Drew found matching boots and insisted they be zipped up.

Drew, looking absolutely angelic.

Remembering Christmas

I am gathering information for my writing class. Does anyone have REAL pictures of the items I mention or other memories??

.............................

I can’t think of Christmas without thinking of my Mother. Mother was a large lady with an even larger personality. She had a ready laugh, and when you were with her, you felt like the most important person to her. Christmas was her holiday.

Christmas 2005

The house was always decorated for the holidays, with new decorations added each year. She was quite a sale shopper, so what went on half-off sales after Christmas adorned our living room the next year. In the early years, many of the decorations were homemade. Dad (who taught computer science) provided the punch cards for the wreath that was stapled and spray painted gold or silver.

Many years she made wreathes of wrapped candy.

Her sucker tree was always popular.

I loved the houses she made of sugar cubes and always thought I would get to eat them after Christmas, but it never seemed to happen.

Gingerbread houses were another family favorite. She didn’t cheat and use graham crackers, but painstakingly baked the gingerbread on jelly roll pans and cut it to shape. The pieces were glued together with a cooked sugar that looked (and tasted) nasty, but was sturdy.

Mom and Dad got lots of Christmas cards and would attach them to the walls as decorations.

Chocolate dipping was a huge endeavor. Mom spent hours and hours making mints, cherry chocolates, peanut clusters, turtles, and caramels. Plates were delivered to all the neighbors. It was important to her that, as adults, we children carried on the tradition.







Mom loved a flocked tree and would spend hours decorating it. Sometimes the kids would help by literally throwing the icicles at the tree.

We went to two Christmas trees shortly after that – where we had a kid’s tree with our homemade ornaments in the basement, but the “show tree” with her lovely things filled the living room.
Later, her love of Christmas took on a more sophisticated look as she had expensive ornaments, a village that filled the living room, and beautiful nativity sets from all over the world.




Acting out the nativity was done every Christmas Eve.

On Christmas Eve, we had a big family dinner and were allowed to open one gift. You waited for the nod from Mom so you didn’t waste your “one gift” opening up underwear or socks. We put out our Christmas stockings and set out a plate of sugar cookies and milk for Santa. Dad would read the Christmas Story from the bible as the kids acted out the nativity scene. We went to bed with strict instructions NOT to get up until we could see our hand in front of our face. On Christmas morning, I would be awakened in the dead of night with my older brother saying, “I think I can see my hand in front of my face. Can you?” We would sneak into the living room to examine our Santa gifts (which were always unwrapped). When the noise got too loud, my father would come in and yell, “My Lordy, it is 2 a.m.. Go back to bed.” When we were allowed to finally get up, we first played with our presents from Santa and then looked for treasures from our stockings. Eventually, someone would suggest that we open the wrapped gifts from parents, siblings, and grandparents. Those gifts were usually more practical than the Santa gifts. I used to wonder why I got such nice gifts from Santa who barely knew me (as I was much too shy to enjoy sitting on his lap) and such boring gifts from my parents (who I knew loved me dearly).

Over the years, mother never lost her love of Christmas. As shopping became more difficult, QVC became her best friend. She had her credit card number memorized and was constantly retrieving packages from the front porch. As she aged, the grandkids were her favorite to shop for. Often her children got a generous check (as I think she secretly wanted to spend their wealth before she died), but the grandkids always got something to open. Recent grandchild gifts were a picture of the temple (for those who were married), various items for the Demdaco Willow Tree nativity sets each married granddaughter was collecting, and a wind up dog for a twenty-something grandson who complained he never got to have the dog he always wanted as a child.



Mom often gave the grandchildren ornaments. When Greg complained that he didn’t seem to have his ornaments from grandmother, the next Christmas he opened up a box of wooden ornaments from her collection. On each she had marked, “Greg, Christmas 1983” or “Greg, 1984”. We all got a good laugh out of the collection of “memory” ornaments.


Mom loved giving. When the family was young, funds were tight, but Mom would save all year just to be able to have a picture perfect Christmas. She loved figuring out what each child and grandchild would want. She loved shopping. She loved the cooking. She loved Christmas in all its glory. How did she keep the love of Christmas in tough economic times or with the chaos of grandbabies, late night movies, and loss of sleep? How did she keep the joy alive through old age, sickness, and the loss of her mate? That secret died with her. I think it was part of her Christmas magic.

Yiddish proverb: “If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.”

After getting our Christmas letter, a dear Jewish friend from Fort Collins just sent an email to tell of us his concern for our family and that he was praying for us. He was our department head. He writes:

Receiving your Holiday Letter took me back some decades to the time that Lori and Kim first became ill, and, I believe, had their spleens removed. It’s odd but I still remember praying for them during the time at our Sabbath service where prayers are said on behalf of those who are ill. I don’t think I’ve mentioned this to you before, but as I’ve gotten older, and maybe more understanding, I’ve appreciated how much it means to me when somebody tells me they’ve prayed for me or a family member. Yesterday, I again prayed for Lori and Kim during our Sabbath service. A lot of memories were brought back.

We have been so blessed to have such good friends. The proverb is his.

No fond farewells here

It is the last day of 2010. I'm glad to see it go. I have a friend who blogs about her cancer, saying she is grateful for what it has taught her. She comments that she has had an "interesting" life. She is truly an angel. I am made of much less seraphic material.

2010 has been a bad year for a host of reasons one doesn't post on their blog. As we drive out of 2010, I'm glad to see it in my rear view window.

Think to Thank

As I sorted through the small pile of Christmas cards and letters that were sent this year, I was impressed with the ones sent just to thank.


A letter from a family we had helped by donating to their son's mission fund.  [I actually had no idea they even knew we donated.  It must be a policy of the new bishop, as we've donated lots of times and never been thanked.  I thought the donations were normally anonymous.]

A card and gift certificates from a family we gave money do when the Dad was out of work.

A thank you from a neighbor we had recently brought treats to and visited in the hospital.

A letter from a family we had supported by sending letters to their son who is in youth facility.

We also got this cute beaded Santa Claus as a Thank You from a Chinese student whom Steve had helped. Her mother had made it.

One of the cards I get each year is from a former Young Woman of mine.  I'll call her Anne.  She is an amazing woman.  She is bright, athletic, loving, talented.  She used to babysit for us and was the most favorite babysitter.  Because of my connection to her in Young Women, I was aware of some social challenges she faced. I never think of her without thinking of the (holocaust survivor and Nobel Peace Prize winner) Elie Wisesel quote, "The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference."  When she was in Young Women's, the mothers in the ward took turns driving the youth to early morning seminary.  With Anne in the car, the others would talk about dates, parties, and social events that did not include Anne.  While she was never actively mistreated, others were just indifferent to her feelings.  It was a very tough time for her.


So in the spirit of thanking and noticing ...

Thanks to all my kids for traveling to Boise for Christmas.  Kim was unable to travel because of her intense back pains, but the kids volunteered to travel to Boise, lugging gifts and Santa's bags with them.  It was a very sweet gesture.

Thanks for the lovely and thoughtful gifts - a food processor, knife set, universal remote, clothes, computer bag, a beautiful calendar, handmade ornaments.

Thanks of the friends who have listened to and supported me through my many melt downs.

Thanks to the amazing people who made the ward Christmas party happen. 

Christmas Morning

Ben, Chelle and Greg displaying the chapstick secreted into their stocking.

Halle loved unwrapping.

Trisha with her new "travel" camera.

Prissy in her glory.

Halle the diva.

Christmas Eve

Halle glamour shot.

Who needs a gingerbread house with all this candy?

Brandon, David, and Zach plan their architecture.

Kim and David the finished product.

Chelle and Ben with gingerbread home and car...

Minute to Win it. Steve and David in hot competition.

Ward Christmas Party

Steve was in charge of the ward Christmas party. The directions were to have a dinner party for families with Santa there. That is a tall order as we have an older ward. Lots of people aren't wild about coming to a dinner with kids, let alone one where Santa is invited.

We were given an amazing committee. Cheryl and Sue did the decorations. Sue did advertising. Wendy was in charge of the program. Dan and Lana arranged for Santa Claus. Judy planned the craft room. Hank (from the bishopric) offered great organizational tips. Steve and I were in charge of the food.

The internet lies. I guess I should have known that, but it does. We had decided to have bone-in spiral cut ham, baked by ward members with a special pineapple glaze. The internet said we should plan for three fourths of a pound of bone-in ham for each person. Our sign-up lists said 212 were coming. While we knew the sign-up list wasn't entirely accurate, we assumed the "no shows" would be compensated for by those we didn't reach - plus you can hardly afford to run out of food at the Christmas dinner. Only about 150 actually came, though the room looked full. We had purchased 17 half hams. Between an over estimate of the attendance and an over estimate of the amount of ham needed, we had "ham for the thrashers" (as Mom would say). We had five hams and at least that many pies/cakes that we didn't even touch. We had additional ham that was cut off the bone to serve, but wasn't needed. Our good bishop was so cute. He personally delivered the untouched hams to ward members who were going through hard times. We had the foresight to buy "take out dinner boxes" like you get in restaurants, so many of the left overs were carried out by attendees. Some took a dinner to a neighbor who had surgery or just took a plate for themselves for the next day. The ham turned out great. The pineapple glaze made it great to keep warm as well as filling the hall with a wonderful scent.

Santa was a hit. We have so few young children in our ward, each got special attention as well as numerous photo ops.

The crafts were popular.

The decorations were absolutely amazing. Balloons ascending from each table. Large styrofoam gingerbread men and candies adorning the walls. Large presents with gorgeous bows livening up the tables. Christmas lights festooned from the corners of the hall. Garlands of greenery cascading from the stage. Snowflakes suspended mid air. Large candy canes gathered like a bouquet from the middle of the room. A friend sent me a few pictures - so you can see the amazing decorations.

Afterwards, we had so much help cleaning up. We got so many wonderful comments. It was a great experience.

Reflect on Christ

Each year in Relief Society we have the desire to give a Christmas gift to everyone, but have few funds. This year Kelly came up with making luminaries for everyone with the message to reflect on Christ. We spent the afternoon putting these together. They have a small artificial flame in the bottom, but it doesn't show up much. My role was gluing on the beads and gluing the canning ring to the lid.

I would never think of creating such a thing. Crafty I'm not. Kelly is just so creative. I'm just glad it wasn't like the project for last year where we tied handkerchiefs to look like dolls! They were a headache. After three hours we had all of two created. Luckily, we discovered the trick (rubber bands) and eventually got them completed.

Soup and Bread

As a Relief Society presidency, we decided to take soup and bread to the widows and widowers in the ward. I stayed home from work in order to make the bread. At the last minute, I remembered I had small gift bags from last year. I filled them with caramels to include in our deliveries (as I hadn't yet done my dipping, but had the caramels made). We divided into twos to make the distributions. What a fun time. I wish we could have spent more time visiting. It was definitely an activity I would choose to repeat.

The next Sunday, I got the sweetest thank you from one of the widowers we visited: "Thank you so much for the soup, bread, and butter caramels. I have never before been greeted at the door with angel bearing gifts."

Approaching the church as consumers

I love living in Utah, but there is one part of being a Utah Mormon that I don't like.  It is the whiny syndrome. Take for instance visiting teaching.  I hear a whole heard of whiny syndrome comments about visiting teaching.  I won't name them as I don't want to offend the guilty, but you likely know the kind of comments I'm talking about.  Actually, I hope you don't.  I had no idea people were so whiny until I got this calling.

Here are some excerpts from an essay by Eugene England. I really liked the thoughts.

In the life of the true Church, as in a good marriage, there are constant opportunities for all to serve, especially to learn to serve people we would not normally choose to serve—or possibly even associate with—and thus there are opportunities to learn to love unconditionally (which, after all, is the most important thing to learn in the gospel).

Church involvement teaches us compassion and patience as well as courage and discipline. It makes us responsible for the personal and marital, the physical and spiritual welfare of people we may not already love (may even heartily dislike), and thus we learn to love them.

It is in the Church especially that those with qualities ("gifts") of vulnerability, pain, handicap, need, ignorance, intel­lectual arrogance, social pride, even prejudice and sin—those Paul calls the members which "seem to be more feeble"—can be accepted, learned from, helped, and made part of the body so that together it can all be blessed.

If we con­stantly ask, "What has the Church done for me?" we will not think to ask the much more important question, "What am I doing with the opportunities for service and self-challenge with which the Church provides me?" If we constantly approach the Church as consumers, we will never partake of its sweet and filling fruit. Only if we can lose our lives there will we find our­selves.

Embrace our own uniqueness

As an undergraduate at USU, though I was a math major, I often took poetry reading or story telling as my electives.  I remember a poetry reading class taught by Barbara Hales.  The course was primarily for elementary education majors, and the course was designed to help them prepare materials to be used in the classroom.  One of the requirements of the course was to create a picture/poetry file – so you could read the attached poem while displaying the picture.   [I used that picture file for years in teaching primary or family home evening.]

Our final project was to design an educational unit of poetry and required a ten minute oral presentation in class, complete with a host of visual aids.  My presentation involved boxes, where students opened the boxes to get from one poem to the next.  I remember thinking it was a clever way to avoid displaying my lack of artistic ability.

The only other presentation I remember involved a display of animals carefully drawn by the presenter.  As she began to speak, it was clear she was very nervous. She spoke so quickly that you almost stopped breathing as you witnessed such a feat. When she sat down, the professor asked for comments as was the protocol for the presentations.

I sat there thinking, “ I am NOT going to introduce ‘the elephant in the room’.  There is no way I am going to levy that criticism on her." As a child, I was always told that I talked too fast.

Sunday school used to be a stand-alone meeting with its own opening exercises and passing of the sacrament.  Many members won’t remember this because of the consolidated meeting schedule instituted in 1980 which resulted in the elimination of Sunday School opening exercises.  With the dropping of opening exercises went a unique Mormon icon – the two and a half minute talk.  I’m not sure why the strange time limit.  I assume it seemed less intimidating to talk for such a short time.  My first exposure to public speaking came as a young child giving two and a half minute talks.  Under pressure, my carefully memorized and practiced two and a half minute talk was performed in under a minute.  While I must have received other comments for my efforts, the comment that was ever present was, “You talked too fast.”

Thus, as I sat there in the classroom, I deliberately refused to tell the presenter of the speed issue.  As expected, the first comment was on the rate of delivery. Professor Hales didn’t hesitate for a second as she exuberantly replied, “Yes. Wasn’t that delightful?  We are not all the same.  Some speak fast.  Some speak slow.  I loved the enthusiasm she brought to the presentation.”

I sat there at my seat with a lump in my throat.  What a wonderful message.  There is not one acceptable way.  Embrace our own uniqueness.