A child, a hymnbook, and me

It is not unusual to have an "aha" moment in church.  However, mine did not come from the pulpit, it came from the small grandson sitting next to me.  It was one of the greatest learning moments of my life.


Nate, wanted his own hymnbook, even though he cannot read.  I watched as he traced his little finger carefully along the stanzas. 

When a new verse began, he was right there, at the top, in the right place.  He never lost his concentration.  At the end of the song he proudly told me that he had been able to trace all the words plus the title and the page number!


What was so unusual or "aha" about a child and a hymnbook?  I found the answer to a decades-old question I have had.  How can I keep the commandment "Be ye therefore perfect"?  Why did the Savior ask us to do something, command us to do something He knew we could not do?  Why?  I know. I know.  It was a long-range goal for us.  For me, though, it was downright frustrating.  But, here was little Nate intent, focused, and still not able to read a word.  Was he reading?  Not by my standards, but in his time and place he was reading perfectly.  I had been confusing perfection and performance.


I have a new favorite word, thanks to Nate.  The word is "willing."  The scriptures are full of the Lord pleading with us to be "willing."  He understands willingness.  In the Garden of Gethsemane he prayed, "The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak."  Feeling weak was not imperfection.  His willingness was a hallmark of his perfection.  The Lord can help willing hearts.  He can make them better, more, and eventually...perfect.


Nate started to squirm so I handed him a pencil and paper.  He wrote very carefully and asked, "Grandma, do you know what this says?" 

  "What does it say, Natey?"

he grinned, "Nate is GREAT!"

Yes, he is. 

He wrote it perfectly.

Shining

A mother is most needed

as a lamp in the dark.

Not a carriage to take them,

not a prod from behind.

Just a lamp in the night,

always there

always bright.

The Greatest Mother's Day Gift

What was I to do?  On Friday my kindergarten teacher had taught us about Mother's Day.  This was 1953, before children made gifts in school, so, I was in charge,  I was six years old, and I had 35 cents.  There were the three of us, Momma, me, and 4 year old Robbie.  What could Robbie and I give her?  Taking his hand we walked to the little shopping center next to our housing development.  Shocked?  It was 1953.  Kids could do that.  I had decided on the perfect gift.  Sweet peas.  I was going to buy her a big bouquet of flowers.  Her favorite kind.  I could see the surprise and excitment on her face as she held them and smelled them - I could see it all. 

We pushed open the big door of the florist shop.  I was so shy but filled with confidence at that moment, "Do you have any sweet peas?"  I blurted out.  "No," was all the woman said. 

We wandered around the stores, Robbie's hand hot in my one hand, the thirty-five cents hot in the other.  In Woolworth's 5&10 I settled on a seed packet.  The picture of sweet peas was beautiful.  Just what I had imagined.

At home I wrapped it.  The more I wrapped, the worse it looked, it was more wrap than gift.  Looking at it I felt as small and disappointing as it was. 

Mother's Day morning in San Diego, California was bright and sunny.  I brought out the gift.  Momma sat down and lifted me onto her lap.  I felt her warm arms around me as she opened her only gift.  She told me how beautiful it looked, commented on my great taping job, and carefully opened it.  "Oh, Jeanie, you remembered that I love sweet peas!  Let's plant them now!"

They knelt in the dirt, planting side by side, two itty- bitty kids and a mother giving them her greatest gift.

Is it real?

How important is it, and at what age do you tell a child that those cherished holiday/event characters in their lives are not real?  For me, with our first child, Jenny, it came too, too early, she was only four years old.  We were driving to church the Sunday after Christmas when this question hit me from the back seat: 

Jenny:  Is Santa Claus real?

(Not ready for this) mommy:  Santa Claus is a fun game that mommies and daddies like to play with their children.

Jenny:  Is the Easter Bunny real?

(Oh no, no, no) mommy:  The Easter Bunny is a fun game that mommies and daddies like to play with their children.

Jenny:  Is the tooth fairy real?

(Can't believe this is happening) mommy:  The tooth fairy (she hadn't even lost any teeth yet) is a fun game...

Jenny:  Is Heavenly Father real?

 
Now, given that little scenario, what did we do?  We went on to play the game with the next five children and continued to do it with Jenny (even though she knew).  And they all grew up with their psyches and testimonies intact.  Here was our philosophy - we went to church EVERY Sunday, we prayed EVERYDAY, we read the scriptures, we worked and played as a family.  Santa once a year, Easter baskets once a year, and losing 20 teeth were minuscule compared to what we were doing everyday.  We made what was real, REAL all year long.   

Easter's Miracle

Because of Christ,

everything that is bright
and beautiful in our lives

has meaning,

and everything that is not,

can be healed

and made bright and beautiful forever...

Loving Life

Life within that laughs at a thousand names

     tried but undecided,

Your motion cadencing with mine.

Nameless, faceless, with only rounded form

to call out your existence.

My bonding did not aimlessly stand by

for face or form or cry,

It erupted with your first dawning.



5 Loaves & 2 Fishes

Remember the story of Jesus feeding the 5000 - he only had five loaves and two fishes.  (Can you relate!)  I find it remarkable that before he blessed it and fed the multitude, he thanked his Father for it, even though it wasn't enough! 
There are so many areas in our lives that can qualify as 5 loaves and 2 fishes: financial, relationships, health, etc.  A good starting point is to be grateful for what we do have, even if it is not enough.  This morning I thought, "Ingratitude is the lowest kind of poverty, and gratitude is the highest form of riches."

Then, watch the miracle.