Tales of a Fourth Grade Teacher

Mr. Jackson.  I still remember spending an entire summer dreading 4th grade.  I had never had a male school teacher before, and now I was about to be a pupil of one of the most feared men on campus.  He was known for being very strict, and was incredibly intimidating.  I really had no idea what to expect.
Well, we didn't have to get very far into the school year before I was able to relax and realize that this year was going to be okay.  It would end up being one of my favorites, in fact.  Mr. Jackson was definitely strict and firm, but he was also interesting, smart--and hilarious!  As long as you could behave yourself, you were in for a great year.
As I tell about this 4th grade year I'm going to share some things about myself that I'm really ashamed of.  I never wanted to tell people about these things, but as I've grown older I've realized that wherever valuable lessons are learned, sometimes those lessons need to be shared.
The fact is, I had a really rotten side to me as a 9 year old.  For the most part I was friendly, a little shy, got straight A's, was involved in extracurricular activities... all of that.  But for whatever reason there was still a part of me that was just plain mean.
I was a great friend to most of the girls.  We had our little "group"--Julie, Stacey, Katie, and me.  And Jennifer.  We played together every recess, we went to each other's houses for play dates, all of the normal things that good friends do.
Jennifer had been best friends with Julie for quite awhile, and that friendship was solid and improving all the time.  Apparently I somehow decided this was a threat, and for whatever reason I got it in my head that Jennifer needed to find a new group.  And I began to make it very clear.
I can still picture our group on the top of the jungle gym, and Jennifer coming over to join us.  I assumed the role of "boss" and told everyone that we needed to move to another area of the playground--away from her.  Jennifer wasn't a pushy girl, so she quickly got the hint and went away.  It breaks my heart every time I think of this.
She would try during each recess to join us, and my actions were the same.  I'm sure our other friends felt bad, but I don't remember whether they tried to change my mind about what I was doing.  All I remember is that this went on long enough that Jennifer eventually just resorted to sitting on the side of the playground every recess and playing with no one.  She gave up.  And I was thrilled.
I don't know that I ever would have looked back, if intervention hadn't come.  It hurts to think that I really was so mean that I could have gone on enjoying my group, never giving another thought to Jennifer's feelings; just being happy that she was leaving us alone.
But one day on the playground, as I was blissfully enjoying the time with my friends, I heard Mr. Jackson's voice calling  me down from the jungle gym.  My mind was racing.  I couldn't think of anything I was in trouble for--I was a "good kid," always behaving myself...  What could he want to talk to me about?
We both sat down on the bench.  He began to talk to me about a girl who used to be a Straight A student, but was now almost failing.  I was confused for a minute, since no name was given, but then I quickly figured out who he was talking about.  I wanted to crawl in a hole.  My teacher knew what I had been doing, and it was something so bad he had to come out to recess and find me to talk about it.
He spoke very calmly, not in a condemning way at all.  He told me of conversations with Jennifer's mother; that Jennifer was going home crying every day.  He told me that Jennifer and her family were in his ward, and that he knew them well and spoke with them often.  He told me what a great family they were, and painted a picture of them that awakened me to the fact that I was hurting people.  Real people.  A whole family of them, in fact.  I was stunned.  My immature mind had never thought of any of these possibilities.  All I had thought about was my own little selfish world where I was in charge and all of my friends went along with my plan.
I don't remember a lot of what Mr. Jackson said, but I remember how I felt.  At first I felt embarrassed, then terribly ashamed.  But in all that was said, I never felt condemned.  And somehow, at the end of the conversation I even felt cared for.  Even though Jennifer and her needs were Mr. Jackson's focus in this conversation, and I was clearly the cause of her pain, he still managed not to treat me as an evil and hurtful little girl but instead empowered me by asking that I solve this problem.
I'm still amazed at this man's wisdom, when I look back now as an adult and evaluate all the details of the situation.  There are so many ways he could have handled it, but he handled it in the most perfect way possible.  If he had been angry with me and yelled, or even just spoke sternly, I would have shrunk in fear and probably hated him.  I would have felt resentment toward him, rather than the respect and gratitude that were intact that day and have grown immensely with time.
He could have confronted my parents and asked them to handle it, in which case I would likely have disregarded their words, knowing they wouldn't really know what happened at school each day.
He could have advised Jennifer's parents to contact mine, which likely would have caused me to exclude her even more and maybe even accuse her of being a tattle-tale, making things worse.
He could have decided that, as a busy teacher, he didn't need to take the time to observe what was happening or address it himself.  He could have seen it as something for others to deal with--parents, or a playground aid.
But he didn't.  He cared enough about Jennifer to take the time to think about the problem, to think through the best solution, and to find just the right words to say.  And he cared enough about me to give me the tools I would need to repair the damage I had done.  He had the foresight and the wisdom to see the importance of giving me the responsibility of solving the problem.  And he presented it to me in a way that made me want to do so.
There are so many ways he could have approached the situation, but I believe he was inspired to handle it just the way he did.  I don't think it was coincidence that he happened to live in the same ward as Jennifer, and knew her family on a personal level.  And I don't think it was coincidence that years later I moved into her parents' ward as a newlywed, so that I could have the humbling, embarrassing, but incredibly valuable experience of processing all of this again with an adult perspective; and so that I could view the example of good, righteous people who never treated me with anything but love and forgiveness.  I think this whole thing was a perfectly orchestrated situation, put into place years beforehand by a wise and loving Heavenly Father who knew the mistakes I would make and the potential lessons to be learned.
Well, my actions changed--and quickly.  I have no memory of the details, but I know the five of us were soon spending every recess together again, getting along just fine.  That's one of those magical things about children--the ability to move on quickly and not hold grudges.  Jennifer was happy to join the group again, I was happy to have my mistakes forgotten, and we all picked up right where we had left off.
Mr. Jackson never treated me with any less respect.  From an adult perspective, I would like to think I could do the same--but I'm not sure I could.  It's incredible to me that he could care so much and so equally about both of us, when one was such a victim and one was such a perpetrator.
Mr. Jackson handled this in such a Christlike way.  He wanted justice for her, but at the same time he had mercy upon me.  He continued to respect me throughout the rest of the year, and never mentioned this episode again or held it against me in any way.  In fact, at the end of the year he even wrote on my report card, "Jenni is a raisin among the flakes," (which he later apologized to my parents for, since it sounded like he was putting the rest of the class down).  But of course it was understood that he only meant it as a creative compliment, and I look at it now as clear proof that he looked past my mistakes and somehow still valued me as if this whole ugly incident had never happened.
My understanding of the Atonement was very minimal at that time in my life.  I don't remember thinking of the need to repent for this mistake, although I clearly understood the need to fix it.  But over the years I gained a true and strong desire to not be a jealous person, and I always looked back at that experience as a clear time of battling strong feelings of jealousy.  This experience was such a gift to me, such a perfect opportunity to begin understanding that I didn't want to be mean and hurtful to others.
While I didn't fully understand the role of the Atonement as changes took place within me over the years to come, I can look back and clearly see that it was through the power of the Atonement that I was able to gradually change my heart.  Somehow, little by little, over the next decade or so of my life, I went from being one of the meanest girls on the playground to hardly even knowing how to feel jealousy.  It didn't really sink in until I was dating Rob, and he teased me one day after a pretty girl had come and talked to him in front of me.  He told me it would be really nice if I could at least pretend I was a little bit jealous.  And I suddenly realized that my character had truly and completely changed from what I had been ten years earlier.  It wasn't effortless, for sure.  But, amazingly, it had been possible.
I am filled with gratitude for my Savior, when I realize how much jealousy was a part of me as a 9-year-old girl, and how much it would still be a part of me now without His incomprehensible Gift that allows me to improve.  And I'm filled with gratitude for a loving, inspired school teacher who understood the Atonement enough himself to see eternal worth in a young girl whose actions were not reflecting it.
Even though I would love to be able to go back in time and redo those few months of my life the right way, I can't deny the fact that the lessons I learned have been invaluable to me.  My mistakes are a poignant reminder that I have no room to judge others who too may be making mistakes they don't yet understand.  It's also a reminder to me to treat others as the Children of God that they are, whether they're behaving as such or not.  And it's a source of gratitude each time I think of a loving teacher who remembered that I was a Child of God, even when my actions could have made that fact easy to forget.
Mr. Jackson, wherever you are, I hope you know the impact of your kind but firm ways.  I have to believe that your influence has had far-reaching effects on many lives besides my own.  Thank you for your wisdom, your patience, and your Christlike love.  You may have been my school teacher, but you were also teaching the gospel through your powerful example, each and every day.

The Dirty Truth About My In-Laws

Well, it's time to state the facts about this family I married into, and reveal the kind of people they really are.
A few weeks ago, Spencer needed soil samples for one of his high school classes.  He was supposed to bring in at least one sample from somewhere outside of Arizona.  He immediately thought of his grandparents, who are currently serving a full-time mission in Alaska, so he contacted them and asked if they might be able to help.
These are two very busy people who are spending their days taking care of the needs of all of the younger missionaries also serving in Alaska--feeding them in large numbers on a regular basis, making sure they have housing arrangements, sorting their hundreds of letters...  Do they really have time to go around digging up dirt and figuring out how to mail it to AZ for a 15-year-old boy to study?
Their answer:  Absolutely!  And not only did they find him some soil, they had to travel to find it, they took pictures of where the soil samples were gathered, and even wrote a letter to his teacher explaining exactly where the samples came from.  They dropped everything to make sure that this boy would have what he needed, when he needed it, and where he needed it.  Here's the letter his Grandma sent:

January 22, 2013

Mr. Hartfield,

I am Spencer Ferrin’s Grandmother and we are in Anchorage, Alaska.  The ground is so frozen we had to be a little creative to get to some soil!

Sample #1 was from under a stairway quite protected with a large tree overhead.  It was gathered from right in Anchorage.

Sample #2 was from a small town called Hope.  Hope is 88 miles south of Anchorage.  We had to drive a distance to find unfrozen ground.  The sample was from under a large tree as you can see in the picture and actually seems a lot like mulch. 

I hope these samples will help you in your class.

Diana Ferrin
3250 Strawberry Road
Anchorage, AK   99502

I can't say I ever remember crying over dirt before (unless maybe it got in my eye) =), but when I saw this letter it brought tears to my eyes.  I can't say enough good about these wonderful people, who always put family first, no matter how busy they are.  If it's important to one of their children or grandchildren, it's important to them.  Period.
The legacy they're creating for their posterity will not be forgotten--a legacy of love, of putting family first, and of caring about the little things.
So, there's the dirt on my in-laws!  =)

Lead, Kindly Light: The MTC Drop-Off

I'm probably going to cry through this whole post, but I want to record the details of this day before they're gone and forgotten.
We had no plans today other than getting Ashlee to the MTC at 12:45, so it was a perfect, relaxed, non-rushed morning.  We were staying in adjoining rooms at a hotel in Orem.  We left the doors open between the rooms for the two days of our stay, so it felt more like one big room.
Most of the family went down to get breakfast, leaving Ashlee and me to start getting ready for the day.  We were both mostly quietly doing our own things, but I realized she was humming, "Lead, Kindly Light."  I knew she probably wasn't even aware that she was humming, and I was sure she had no idea that it was killing me just a little bit.  At the same time, though, it was a sweet and peaceful time for reflection.
The words were going through my mind:  "Lead, kindly Light, amid th'encircling gloom; Lead thou me on..."  I wouldn't necessarily call this a day of "gloom," but there was definitely some sadness in the air.  These words were a sweet reminder that even when sadness begins to encircle us, the Lord is always there to continue leading us along.  Through all of this "mission stuff," there has been so much excitement and comfort from the Spirit, that it far outweighs the sadness.  With the understanding we have of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and the peace and happiness it brings, it's almost impossible to really stay sad.
The final words of this verse say,  "Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see The distant scene--one step enough for me."  Well, today is definitely one step--a big one.  And none of us knows the "distant scene."  All of us, together, are just looking as far as this step, trusting and understanding that this is enough for us to see for now.
Even more than just what these words meant for today, I thought about what they would mean for the next 18 months.  Ashlee will surely experience "encircling gloom" at times, when she puts her whole heart into teaching this beloved Gospel to precious souls, only to have the adversary enter in and sway them from it.  It will happen, and those will undoubtedly be days of gloom.  And when "the night is dark" and she is "far from home," I hope she will feel her Heavenly Father's comforting arms around her, leading her on.
These words continued to play through my mind, and I knew Ashlee didn't realize she was humming at all, let alone such a fitting hymn.  I considered it to be a tender mercy, just for me.  Painful, but tender.
The rest of the family came back to the room after a little while and we finished getting ready and packing up.  Then we took the opportunity to have what would be our last family scripture study all together for awhile.  One topic we've discussed at length on this trip is that of the work of angels.  (I've been reading a book that has sparked several deep and interesting family discussions on the topic.)  So this morning Rob had been reading and found some more scriptures that referred to angels.
After the kids all took turns sharing scriptures, we talked about the fact that angels will undoubtedly attend Ashlee at times on her mission--probably more often than we realize.  We discussed possibilities of who some of these angels are likely to be.  Elder Richard G. Scott spoke in a recent General Conference about ministering angels, and the likelihood that those who assist us are often our own relatives.
I'll leave it at that, simply because some conversations are too sacred to just post on a blog.  But suffice it to say that we have no doubt that Ashlee has great-grandparents and others who are keenly aware of the work she will soon be doing, and are anxious to be of assistance to her.
When we finished our scripture study, I suggested we sing the hymn Ashlee had been humming this morning.  We love singing hymns together as a family, and I really wanted to again, one last time.  Even though I knew it would result in tears (at least for me), I hoped it would be meaningful for the family and therefore worth it.  When I suggested it, Ashlee smiled and said, "I was humming?"  Just as I thought, she was completely unaware.
We began to sing, and by the 2nd line the three girls and I were already crying.  Ashlee laughed through her tears and said, "Maybe this wasn't the best idea."  But we continued singing, just doing the best we could.
I've already mentioned the parts of this hymn that ran through my mind while Ashlee was humming (the first verse, which is the only part I know by heart).  They were again meaningful as we sang together.  As we sang all 3 verses (thanks to modern technology making them accessible on our phones) there was more and more that applied.
In the 2nd verse we sang, "I loved to choose and see my path; but now, Lead thou me on..."  I thought about the way Ashlee has always had clear goals and objectives for her life, she has "loved to choose and see [her] path."  The thought of a mission was nowhere in her view just four short months ago.  But how quickly she was willing to change her "path" when she felt that the Lord had opened up new possibilities and was leading her in a different direction.
The 3rd verse reminded me of the faith she has always had, from the time she was very small:  "So long thy pow'r hath blest me, sure it still will lead me on..."  She has seen the Lord's hand in her life every step of the way, and has no reason to worry that that will change.
Then we reached the end, and all I could do was cry.  After the scriptures we had just read, the last two lines just hit me hard:  "And with the morn those angel faces smile, which I have loved long since, and lost awhile."  I had no memory of this hymn mentioning angels.  It's always been a hymn I loved, but it will forever have special meaning to me now, especially as I think of some of the angels I have known personally--grandparents who I have truly "loved long since, and lost awhile."
We dried our tears but knew our final family prayer was still coming.  Rob asked Ashlee if she would like a blessing, and of course she said yes.  So he gave her one last Father's Blessing.  (He told me later that he was hesitant and wondered if it was his place, since she had already been set apart as a missionary.  But then he was reminded that he will always be her Dad, and that it was still ok.  I'm so glad he didn't talk himself out of it.)  In the blessing she was told that there are people waiting for her to teach them, and that there are people's lives she will touch in ways that only she can; some of whom will be her companions.  She was also told that because she is where she's supposed to be, doing what she's supposed to be doing right now, she doesn't need to worry about home or things going on in the lives of people she's far away from.  She's doing the Lord's work, and as she is obedient in her work she can know that all is in accordance with His will.
After her blessing we knelt in a circle and held hands to pray one last time (for awhile) as a complete family.  Rob asked me to say the prayer, which I managed to do with just a few tears.  Then we loaded up the car to leave.
I hope I haven't shared things here that I shouldn't have.  I've gained a new perspective on missionary work through some experiences I've had in the last year or so, and also by having my own missionary preparing to go and share the gospel.  I've realized that I may have been too hesitant to share things in the past, and that I may have been selfish in failing to allow others to fully understand the blessings available to all of us.  I've tried to be selective in what I've shared here, because I do understand the sacred nature of spiritual things; however, I believe that when we fail to speak of the things that bring joy into our lives, we may be preventing others from finding the same joy that we have.  I will leave it at that, and hope I'm not mistaken.
Well, we headed to Provo, driving past the MTC just to help prepare ourselves for the thought of dropping Ashlee off there soon.  We went and grabbed a quick lunch, and then it was time to face the goodbyes.
As we again drove along the road in front of the MTC, looking at all the missionaries walking everywhere, Ashlee said, "Do you see anyone we know?!?"  We all laughed.  There are only thousands of missionaries there!  But she knows that a few of her friends are all there right now, so she was just hoping with all her might that she'd somehow spot a familiar face.
We turned into the parking lot and were in a short line of cars.  We talked briefly to the man giving out the windshield stickers, and he directed us to the left.  As we turned to pull to a spot at the curb, Kaybree said, "There's Jared!!!"  Sure enough, there stood one of Ashlee's good friends, Jared Gardner, waiting by the curb for her.  We rolled down our windows and yelled to him.  His face just lit up, and he started running toward us, yelling, "There you are!!!"  The smile on his face was priceless.

I love Ashlee's group of friends--awesome kids who truly love and support each other in all good things.  Seeing Jared out there waiting for Ashlee brought such comfort to all of us--a friend from home to help her through this transition.
We had to drive further down to find a good drop-off spot, so Jared just waited at the top.  A really nice, cute missionary greeted us and helped get Ashlee's luggage out.  He waited patiently as we hugged and cried, then took the two big suitcases and left her just the small one to pull.  They walked away up the hill, and that was it.  I watched for a minute while the kids got back in the car, but then I finally got in too and we drove away.

Every one of us cried, even Rob and our big boys.  Seeing Rob struggling made me really lose it.  He said afterward, "I didn't know if that twerp could make me cry, but she did!"
Blake had said a few days ago, "I can't decide whether to cry when we drop Ashlee off or not."  We all cracked up.  (I thought, It must be nice to have a choice!)  Well, apparently he "chose" to let himself cry. =)  His Instagram post afterward was cute--a picture of him hugging Ashlee, and these words:  "And she's gone....she's gonna be the best missionary ever but even knowing that she will do great and be fine it was still so hard to watch her leave."
We drove a little ways down and around the corner, by the mail building.  Rob pulled off to the side and said, "Maybe if we sit here and watch people drive by crying, we'll feel better!"  So we did. =)  We watched about 10 cars go by.  The first few cars brought us some laughs, just because it was funny to see car after car doing the same thing we were.  But seeing the pain in some of the faces just reminded us how sad we really were.  Then a mom drove by all by herself, and it was too much to take.  That just brought more tears, so we decided it was time to go.  That poor woman!  I still keep thinking about her.  Hopefully she and her missionary just lived right in Provo and opted to leave the rest of the family home for the most painful part.  Or maybe she wasn't actually a mom--just someone providing a ride who had no emotional connection.  That's what I'm going to tell myself, anyway.
So that pretty-much sums up our experiences of the day.
Of course, this is only the beginning...

 As we drove away...

 I had to take a picture of this building that will be Ashlee's best friend (and ours!) for the next 3 weeks:

 After we got home, I accidentally came across Ashlee's keys she had left back behind some things on the counter.  Just what I needed... More tears.....

Obama Has Won it For 2012

Lots of emotions this week...  But today the emotion I’m feeling is hope, and even a positive feeling of anticipation for the strength we will gain, as individuals and families, in the years ahead.

For a long time I’ve felt strongly that we as a nation, myself included, have some hard lessons that need to be learned.  Through our prosperity we’ve managed to instill in ourselves and our children such a sense of entitlement that if we can’t travel regularly, eat out often, wear the best clothing, live in the nicest home, give each child his/her own bedroom, and have our pampering needs—mani/pedi/haircolor—worked unquestionably into the family budget, we believe ourselves to be deprived.  Even the poorest among us have so much in comparison with many throughout the world.  We have so many luxuries we now consider to be necessities, we don’t even think of the possibility of life without them—and we shudder at the very suggestion of it.

Over 160 years ago, Brigham Young said, "The worst fear that I have about this people is that they will get rich in this country, forget God and his people, wax fat, and kick themselves out of the Church and go to hell.  This people will stand mobbing, robbing, poverty and all manner of persecution, and be true.  My greater fear for them is that they cannot stand wealth; and yet they have to be tried with riches, for they will become the richest people on this earth."

We surely have become the richest people on this earth.  And in my opinion, as a whole, we haven’t handled it very well.  Brigham Young’s fears were valid.  We’ve been tried with riches, and to a large extent we’ve failed to exercise the wisdom necessary to handle them.  I worry much more about my children having too much than not having enough.  If we as a family were to have to band together as our forefathers did, to work our hardest for our very survival, there would be a strength and a bond between us that would unite us like nothing else.  But instead our battles have been ones that divide us, sometimes without our realization at all, as we each sit with our phones/ipods and scroll through our instagram and facebook posts, check our email, and watch a little youtube, oblivious to those precious individuals sitting right next to us on the couch, waiting and hoping for our time and attention.  I speak from experience, and with deep regret. 

The time is very likely coming when we will have to cut back, to give up many of the luxuries we’ve come to enjoy.  And a big part of me is looking forward to it.  I know it won’t be easy, but we each have the opportunity to choose our attitude.  We can do this by force, continuing to spend every dime we make—and then some—until we are completely sunk; or we can do it by choice, wisely budgeting, determining needs vs. wants, and beginning now to plan for the future.

If we choose to look to the future with a heart full of gratitude, we will find blessings every day, even as challenges come and we see the continued need to simplify.  But if we approach the future still holding firm to the belief that we’re entitled to any and all good things, it will be a difficult and painful road we travel.  We can choose to humble ourselves, or we can fight it to the end.

I love these words from Alma 32:  "Yea, he that truly humbleth himself, and repenteth of his sins, and endureth to the end, the same shall be blessed--yea, much more blessed than they who are compelled to be humble because of their exceeding poverty.
Therefore, blessed are they who humble themselves without being compelled to be humble..."  

Change is coming, and I’m ready.  In many ways it really can’t come soon enough.  It will come to each of us in various forms, and to varying degrees, depending on what we as individuals need to learn.  But the Lord is in charge.  I trust Him to do whatever is needed to help me and my family learn, through our challenges, to draw close to Him and to realize what is truly important.  If I need to sacrifice every luxury I’ve ever enjoyed in my life, in order to achieve the level of humility needed to be ready to meet my Savior again, I will.  He is preparing to return to this earth, and I need to be sure I'm taking my preparations seriously as well.  I look forward to that day like no other, and pray that it comes quickly.

Chase-ing a Lizard

I found these pictures today, from back in July, and thought I would just toss in a random post...
Chase was playing outside with his little neighbor friend, Ruby, and looked over and saw a lizard in the garage. Of course, being a little boy, he wanted to catch it. So, with a yummy roll (that Ruby had brought him) in one hand, he still had one hand free--and that would do!

So the Chase is on!

Lucky for Chase, the lizard seemed to be injured and was moving slowly, so it was a job that could be accomplished single-handedly!

When he finally got it, he was so thrilled with himself...

Then the lizard started moving and tickling him.  He came close to dropping it, but managed not to.  He couldn't do anything but stand there and laugh and scream that it tickled.  This picture cracks me up--it looks like Chase and the lizard are old buddies, telling each other some good jokes!

Sweet victory...  And look at that tail!

Through the whole adventure Chase never did let go of that roll!!!  That's my boy! ;-)

What I Would Pay...

I was heading to bed last night and passed by something that caught my eye.  The house was quiet, my mind was clear, and this sight just stopped me in my tracks.  It was Ashlee's Book of Mormon, the same one she's had for about ten years now.  I've seen it a million times, I've picked it up when it was left where it shouldn't be, I've returned it to her room, I've set it on the shelf... but this time I just had to hold it and look at it for a minute.  And then, of course, I had to get the camera.

These scriptures have been used and abused.  I know that some of their wear and tear has come from their accidentally being dropped or maybe even sat on, but the pages are worn because the book has actually been opened and read.  This book wouldn't look this way if it were sitting on a shelf, remaining untouched.  And for that I am so grateful.

I'm grateful for Primary teachers, Sunday School teachers, Young Women leaders, and seminary teachers who have taught her to use them, to mark them, to love them.  And I'm grateful for a Heavenly Father who has blessed her to feel her own witness that the words contained in this book are true.  When these scriptures were purchased years ago, I hoped and prayed that they would be loved and put to use.  And last night I was reminded that they have been.  As I stood there looking at them, in a way I never quite had before, the thought went through my mind, I would pay for these a thousand times over, to know that they're being used.  If any of our kids ever manages to wear their scriptures out so badly that they need new ones, I'll have that purchase made before they can even blink--one of few cases in which I would be thrilled to reward my children for wearing something out.



And then of course this thought popped into my head:

First set of scriptures                                  $73.95
Second set of scriptures                            $73.95
Third, fourth, fifth set of scriptures         $73.95
Knowing they're being used.....                Priceless =)



This is the Night We've Waited For!!!

I was organizing some pictures and came across a few that I've taken over the years during Family Home Evenings. We've definitely had our share of family nights during which the "Bedlamites" were out of control, and it seemed that our efforts were in vain. But pushing through the not-so-inspiring FHE's has paid off, and we now have many wonderful memories of spiritual as well as fun evenings spent together. We seldom reach the end of the night wondering--as we used to years ago--if our time or energy has been wasted. And the kids truly do look forward to each Monday as "the night we've waited for." As the Primary song says,

This is the night we've waited for;
Always a treat we have in store,
We love each other more and more
With every family night.
Stories and games for everyone,
Learning the gospel can be fun,
Father and mother, daughter, son,
Together on family night!

These pictures from 2008 are some of my favorites.  One night, as we played one of our favorite games, "Don't Eat Pete," Chase kept shocking everyone as he cleared the game board without eating Pete!  I love looking at these pictures, and the kids' smiles as Chase kept managing to avoid Pete...  The suspense is killer!!!  =)

The first chocolate chip... Safe!!!

...And safe again!

Safe again... and again... and again...  They can't believe it!

All the way down to the last chocolate chip!!!  Incredible!!!  =)

Everyone is hysterical over Chase's triumphant round of "Don't Eat Pete" - and of course Chase is thrilled with both his success and his tummy-full of chocolate chips! =)

Another night we played a game to see how well we know our family members--by their noses =)  We've also played this with hands, feet, and by a kiss on the cheek.  (I have to say that the older boys weren't too excited about kissing each other on the cheek, but it made for some laughs!  Too bad we didn't have the camera out then!)  =)

I'm not sure if this one was an actual "Family Night" or just a time when we made cookies... but we all know that no FHE is complete without treats of some sort!  So this is a favorite picture at our house.

When we hang it in our world-famous family art museum someday, we'll title it:

"Kids Waiting for Cookies" =)

This was our first FHE after Chase was born.  With our family officially complete, I decided I wanted to take this picture.  I don't know why, and Rob thought it was a silly idea, but I'm grateful that he humored me and participated.

This one wasn't taken during FHE, but was an opportunity to put a FHE lesson into practice:  Forgiveness.  This picture was taken after Emmee dropped and broke Ashlee's porcelain unicorn, which was very special to her.  Tears were shed by both.  We took a picture so we'd at least have that to remember it...

This was a "family talent show."  Rob wouldn't consider the accordion to be one of his talents, but he was willing to give it a try!  It's all just about having fun, right?!?

The kids always love to help by holding up the pictures during stories.  (And it helps keep them from jumping around, somersaulting, fighting, etc., through the lesson!)  =)

Of course decorating for Christmas is always a favorite FHE activity!

Even though our Family Home Evening pictures are relatively few, they're a reminder to me of my gratitude for inspired leaders, who realized--60+ years ago--the importance of families setting aside a night to gather and learn together.  Sometimes the most important lesson of all is simply remembering how much we enjoy each other.  The small moments may not seem to amount to much, but as they all add up they create unbreakable bonds that will keep us close throughout eternity.

A Time for Reflection

Today I was in the kitchen, busy with preparations for the RS Broadcast dinner. Ashlee was in the other room, playing the piano, and she had chosen to play from a "Sound of Music" collection. As she began playing "Climb Every Mountain" the words started through my head, and it related so much to my thoughts about her and her life lately:

Climb every mountain

Search high and low

Follow every byway
Every path you know

Climb every mountain
Ford every stream

Follow every rainbow

Till you find your dream

A dream that will need

All the love you can give

Every day of your life
For as long as you live

Climb every mountain
Ford every stream
Follow every rainbow
Till you find your dream

She's in her last year of high school, with so many decisions and so much excitement coming in her near future. She definitely has some mountains to climb, some paths to follow, and some dreams to pursue. We don't know any of the details yet--the order in which it will all take place, which experiences will be the hardest, which will be the most fun, which will bring the most growth...

She might find some of her dreams relatively easily. Others might take a lifetime of effort yet still be unrealized. As her mom, how am I going to handle watching it all unfold? In some ways I can't wait and I'm filled with excitement for her. In other ways, I'm terrified, sad, and find myself wondering where the time went. I think back to the days right after we brought her home from the hospital, when I just held her and stared at her and couldn't believe she was really mine. I think of that time in our lives and I just want to start all over and raise her again--she's been such a joy.

Every time she plays the piano I'm reminded how much I'm going to miss those sounds when she's gone from our home. As I stood there today, listening to the music, thinking of her future and how terribly I'll miss her, it felt like one of those moments when time stops. It was such an interesting combination of emotions--I love hearing her play the piano and I just soak it in whenever she does, but as she played this particular song the words began to play in my mind, which brought a lot of reflection and then, of course, some sadness.

I know it is what it is.  Children grow up.  Things change.  Life moves on.

I know her dreams will come true.  I know she'll have wonderful opportunities, beyond anything any of us can imagine now.  She has blessings awaiting her that will continue into the eternities.  I know she'll climb the mountains to get there, I know it will be amazing, and I know through it all, no matter where she goes, I'll still be her mom.  So it's all ok............

(Right???)

=)

... I Had a Mother Who Read to Me

THE READING MOTHER
Strickland Gillilan

I had a mother who read to me
Sagas of pirates who scoured the sea,
Cutlasses clenched in their yellow teeth,
"Blackbirds" stowed in the hold beneath

I had a Mother who read me lays
Of ancient and gallant and golden days;
Stories of Marmion and Ivanhoe,
Which every boy has a right to know.

I had a Mother who read me tales
Of Celert the hound of the hills of Wales,
True to his trust till his tragic death,
Faithfulness blent with his final breath.

I had a Mother who read me the things
That wholesome life to the boy heart brings-
Stories that stir with an upward touch,
Oh, that each mother of boys were such.

You may have tangible wealth untold;
Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.
Richer than I you can never be --
I had a Mother who read to me.

President Monson has quoted this well-known poem in Conference talks.

President Benson listed, "Read to your children" as one of his ten most important pieces of advice for mothers.

And I know other Church leaders have also addressed the importance of reading to children.

As our family has applied this advice, I understand why.  And I'm so, so grateful for wise parents and leaders who instilled in me a love for good books.  We still don't put this into practice as often as I would like to--my choice would be every night at bedtime.  But with teenagers going every direction and so many things pulling at our time, it just doesn't always happen.  (And NO, teenagers are not exempt from joining the family as I read to everyone.)  Sometimes we finish one book and [I] get distracted and don't find another to start right away.  So I'm going to keep a running list of good suggestions--for myself, as well as for anyone else who's interested.  Sometimes it seems like a challenge to find a book that ages 5-17 will enjoy, and I have to admit, this has held me back at times from putting forth the effort.  But I've realized that it's really not that hard.  Sometimes a book will interest the older kids more, which just means the younger ones will play around on the floor more as they listen.  That's fine.  And the books that captivate the little ones will bring out that inner child in the older ones--who grew up a little too fast anyway, in my opinion!!! =)  Basically, I've found that if it interests me it will interest all of them.  It's really not so hard!!!

Here's a short list to start with.  I'll add more as I think of them:

The Miracle of Miss Willie, by Alma J. Yates
The Little Britches series, by Ralph Moody
The Little House Books, by Laura Ingalls Wilder
The Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle series, by Betty MacDonald
That Quail, Robert, by Margaret Stanger
Where the Red Fern Grows, by Wilson Rawls
Goodnight Mister Tom, by Michelle Magorian


Our oldest could potentially be leaving home in just 18 months, and it makes me sad to look back on the times we haven't been involved together in a good book.  Reading together is truly the frosting on the cake, the cherry on the sundae, the sauce over the noodles... =)  Maybe I'm hungry... =)  Anyway, it's motherhood at its best!!!

Dinnertime Humor

A couple nights ago, during dinner, Chase didn't want to eat his salad.  Everyone knew there was cake for dessert, so when Chase said he had just eaten two bites of salad, Rob told him that he could have two bites of cake.  Chase then said, in all seriousness, "Actually, I'm gonna eat 16 bites of salad." =)

Turkey Waddle

Our Thanksgiving Day this year began with the Turkey Waddle, which was organized to benefit Breanna Peña, a girl in our ward fighting leukemia.
With Rob and our older boys gone hunting, and Ashlee doing her own thing, the younger kids and I represented the family for the event. I thought this would be a simple task, as I would be walking, going slow, to wait for the little kids--no big deal. Well, was I in for a surprise! When the race started, apparently Chase had made it his personal goal to stay ahead of me and the girls. Not only were we not walking, sometimes Chase had me full-out running to try to catch him! He brought lots of smiles to people as he passed them, especially since he was wearing a black leather jacket. =) We wished we had made him a shirt that said something like, "You just got passed by a little dude!"
It was a great experience to be there with members of our ward/stake/community, to support the Peña family. A perfect start to our Thanksgiving Day!

Baptism Day

This was Kaybree's special day, a day she'd been looking forward to for years.

Our family is so blessed by such good men who hold the Priesthood...
... and wonderful family and friends who show their support and come to every event.

Kaybree is so blessed to have a daddy who holds the Priesthood and can baptize her.

Kaybree loves the song "When I Am Baptized":

I like to look for rainbows whenever there is rain,

And ponder on the beauty of an earth made clean again,

I want my life to be as clean as earth right after rain,

I want to be the best I can, and live with God again.

I know when I am baptized my wrongs are washed away,

And I can be forgiven and improve myself each day,

I want my life to be as clean as earth right after rain,

I want to be the best I can, and live with God again.

So we made her a rainbow cake for her special day:

In keeping with tradition, Grandma Nelson made Kaybree a very special quilt, with fabric chosen by Kaybree herself.

To make sure the morning didn't go TOO smoothly, Blake injured his nose just before it was time for us all to get ready for the baptism. It happened while he & Spencer were on the trampoline. Somehow he hit his nose on Spencer's behind! We've teased Spencer ever since, for having "buns of steel." =)

This is how it looked by the evening. What a mug shot! =)

Kaybree's baptism day also happened to be Blake's birthday, so all afternoon and evening was one big party!!!!!!!!!!!

Kaybree requested party subs from Krazy Sub--always a favorite!

The girls played 4-square with Tucker while the boys partied with their friends.

How many boys can be on a trampoline before it will break? Apparently more than this, cuz it survived!

Blake requested the famous Watermelon Bomb cake, a Ferrin Family tradition started by Aunt Shari years ago for the 4th of July. Not sure it's as fitting for November... but it was a hit!

Everyone enjoying their slices of "watermelon":

What is it about watching kids sit around the table together and laugh their heads off? One of my all-time favorite activities! =)

Ashlee, Tucker, & I played Quelf, the most randomly ridiculous game ever!

And a game of Cops & Robbers is the perfect way to end a great day!