Hornets

Hornet

     Many years ago when I was expecting our first baby, I had an encounter with a hornets’ nest.  That experience has left scars from the emotional impact all these years later.  How could a hornet have such an impact on one person?  Here is the story.

     We had been married about 1 year.  My parents won a trip to Europe and asked John and I if we would be willing to stay at their home while they were gone and watch all my siblings.  We agreed and stayed in their home for about 10 days. 

     One morning, I went out to their shed to get something.  To this day I can’t imagine what I needed to get from that shed.  I doubt I had ever been in that shed my entire life.  Anyway, I opened the shed and moved an old rug, not knowing of course that there was a hive of hornets.  They immediately swarmed after me by the hundreds.  I screamed as the first one attacked me and ran back into the house.  I must have been hysterical because I just kept running with all of them following me.  Luckily, John was working night shift and was home, he surmised the situation quickly and put me into one room, shut the door and proceeded to remove my clothing (I had over 20 stings on me at that point.)  He then killed all the hornets on my body and in that room.  I remember being terrified and in shock because I couldn’t think or move.  My husband then left me in the room, had all my young siblings chase and kill all the hornets in the home. 

     Later that day he took me to the doctor because I was worried about my pregnancy.  I was about 4 months along.  My doctor was out of town and so the physician in charge said to take a prescription and just wait and see.  They didn’t know what effects the hornet stings might have.

     I waited and time passed.  My due date came; I started labor and went directly to the hospital.  During the birth of our first son, we learned that the placenta had stopped growing early on and during delivery the placenta came first and our baby didn’t survive.  Had they known they would have done a c-section.  He was a beautiful well formed baby and we just stared at him in shock.  As a young couple we had to deal with death and a funeral.  It was hard, and I thought I would morn that baby the rest of my life.  I learned many valuable lessons during that time in my life.  The most important was I needed to trust the Lord.  I knew He could have saved my baby if it was His will.  That was one of my first lessons in trust, and there was many more to come, all of which have played an important role in making me who I am today.

     We buried our first baby and knew that the shock and stings of the hornets had an effect on my delivery.  This was over 40 years ago.  I still get nervous when I see bees and my pulse rises considerably if I see a hornet. 

The Envelope

Love those grandsons of mine

      It was Fall of 1969 and we were living on Staten Island in New York.  We were living in a very expensive apartment, $450.00 a month. Actually, it was a cheap apartment according to prices in NY.  Our home in Ogden was $65.00 a month.  At the time it was doable because I was working at the New York Shipping lines as a typist.   John was stationed on Governors’ Island and was allowed off only on weekends.

     I became very ill while I was pregnant with my 2^nd child and was constantly throwing up and scared; scared because less than a year previous we buried our first baby because of complications due to the pregnancy.  Here I was all alone in New York, sick and pregnant.  I knew I couldn’t continue to work, and that is where the problem came.  The rent took most of my paycheck.  Military pay was very meager. I was very independent and not about to ask my parents for money to fly home.  I was determined we could make it on our own.

    There was only one solution.  We would have to move and trust the Lord to help us find another apartment.  When I told the landlady of our situation she yelled and said “just pay the rest of the year's lease and we will call it even”.  I looked her straight in the eyes and said “If I had the money we would stay the rest of the year.”

     On Sunday as I turned over our tithing envelope to the clerk, a name popped into my head.  It was the name of a girl I had met only once but for some reason I wrote down her name and number and I remembered her telling me about her reasonable little apartment she lived in.  I also remember her telling me that they were being stationed elsewhere before the month was out.

333 Heberton, Stanten Isl, NY

     I used the phone at the church and called the number I had written down.  I asked for the girl, knowing full well she no longer lived there.  When I was told she moved several months previous I asked if her apartment was available.  The answer that was given me was astonishing. “Well, I hadn’t decided if I should rent it out or not."  I then told her that we were desperate and explained our situation, she invited us over immediately.  We went there from church as our meetings had just finished.  We drove to 333 Heberton, Staten Island, NY.  The woman and her son lived in a very nice home and on occasion rented out the basement.   She took an immediate liking to us and was especially impressed that John was an Elder in our church. 

     She charged us $175.00 a month, no deposit, no first and last month’s rent.  She told us we could use her phone, and all the utilities were included. She insisted on giving us the key immediately and told us to use the front door and go on down stairs. 

     Even though the apartment was just one big open room in the basement, it was twice the size of our previous one.  It was all furnished. The kitchen consist of a sink, stove and fridge.  We had to use the table as counter top.  But we were full of appreciation for the miracle we were a part of. 

     As I look back over the many years upon that experience I marvel at my faith as a young woman, I just knew the Lord would provide, and he did.  We had paid our tithing with my last paycheck and a way was opened, we stayed there until we were transferred to Hawaii the following April when our daughter Christine was born.  

I AM NEEDED

Rebecca & John in Alabama

As some of you may know, my husband and I served a mission in  Birmingham, Alabama a few years ago.   I loved the people in the South.They are so kind, so hospitable and generous.  I learned that God loves all those that serve him, regardless of their color, nationality, male or female or their religious beliefs.  I learned many lessons from those gracious southerners.

When I read the following story, I knew that the Lord really did help these two people under difficult circumstances. I have seen this happen over and over again in my life.  Enjoy this story, learn from it, and become a tool in the Lords hands to help those who are in need.

MAGNOLIAS

I was getting ready for my daughter June's wedding which was taking place in a church about forty miles away, and felt loaded with responsibilities as I watched my budget dwindle..... So many details, so many bills, and so little time.

My son Jack said he would walk his younger sister down the aisle, taking the place of his dad who had died a few years before. He teased Patsy, saying he'd wanted to give her away since she was about three years old!

To save money, I gathered blossoms from several friends who had large
magnolia trees. Their luscious, creamy-white blooms and slick green leaves would make beautiful arrangements against the rich dark wood inside the church.

The big day arrived - the busiest day of my life - and while her bridesmaids helped Patsy to dress, her fiancé Tim walked with me to the sanctuary to do a final check. When we opened the door and felt a rush of hot air, I almost fainted; and then I saw them - all the beautiful white flowers were black. Funeral black. An electrical storm during the night had knocked out the air conditioning system, and on that hot summer day, the flowers had wilted and died.

 I panicked, knowing I didn't have time to drive back to our hometown, gather more flowers, and return in time for the wedding and I certainly didn't have extra money to buy a new set from the florist in town.
Tim turned to me. 'Edna, can you get more flowers? I'll throw away these
dead ones and put fresh flowers in these arrangements.'
I mumbled, 'Sure,' as he be-bopped down the hall to put on his cuff links.

 Alone in the large sanctuary, I looked up at the dark wooden beams in the arched ceiling. 'Lord,' I prayed, 'please help me. I don't know anyone in this town. Help me find someone willing to give me flowers - in a hurry!' I scurried out praying for the blessing of white magnolias.

As I left the church, I saw magnolia trees in the distance. I approached a
house.... no dog in sight.... knocked on the door and an older man answered. So far so good. No shotgun. When I stated my plea the man beamed.... 'I'd be happy to!' He climbed a stepladder and cut large boughs and handed them down to me.

Minutes later, as I lifted the last armload into my car trunk, I said, 'Sir,
you've made the mother of a bride happy today.' No, Ma'am,' he said. 'You don't understand what's happening here.'

'What?' I asked.

'You see, my wife of sixty-seven years died on Monday. On Tuesday I
received friends at the funeral home, and on Wednesday..... He paused.
I saw tears welling up in his eyes. 'On Wednesday I buried her.' He looked away. 'On Thursday most of my out-of-town relatives went back home, and on Friday - yesterday - my children left.'

I nodded. 'This morning,' he continued, 'I was sitting in my den crying out loud. I miss her so much. For the last sixteen years, as her health got worse, she needed me. But now nobody needs me. This morning I cried, 'Who needs an eighty-six-year-old wore-out man? Nobody!' I began to cry louder. 'Nobody needs me!'

About that time, you knocked, and said, 'Sir, I need you.'

I stood with my mouth open. He asked, 'Are you an angel? I assured him
I was no angel. He smiled. 'Do you know what I was thinking when I handed you those magnolias?'

'No.' 'I decided I'm needed. My flowers are needed. Why, I might have a flower ministry! I could give them to everyone! Some caskets at the funeral home have no flowers. People need flowers at times like that and I have lots of them. They're all over the backyard! I can give them to hospitals, churches- all sorts of places. You know what I'm going to do? I'm going to serve the Lord until the day He calls me home!'

I drove back to the church, filled with wonder. On Patsy's wedding day, if
anyone had asked me to encourage someone who was hurting, I would have said, 'Forget it! It's my only daughter's wedding, for goodness' sake! There is no way I can minister to anyone today.'

But God found a way, through dead flowers. 'Life is not the way it's
supposed to be. It's the way it is. The way you cope with it is what makes the difference.'

Broken, Christ Heals (Kenneth Cope)

Apathy

A sign on a federal building in Califorina

I have learned in my life that Apathy is a word to shun.  Apathy can destroy a person, and it can destroy a nation.  This article is very good in expressing apathy.


 Alexander Tyler, a Scottish history professor at the University of Edinburgh had this to say about democracy:

"A democracy is always temporary in nature; it simply cannot exist as a permanent form of government.

A democracy will continue to exist up until the time that voters discover that they can vote themselves generous gifts from the public treasury. From that moment on, the majority always votes for the candidates who promise the most benefits from the public treasury,

with the result that every democracy will finally collapse over loose fiscal policy, (which is) always followed by a dictatorship."

"The average age of the world's greatest civilizations from the beginning of history, has been about 200 years.
During those 200 years, these nations always progressed through the following sequence:

From bondage to spiritual faith;
From spiritual faith to great courage;
From courage to liberty;
From liberty to abundance;
From abundance to complacency;
From complacency to apathy;
From apathy to dependence;
From dependence back into bondage."

Professor Joseph Olson of Hamlin University law school, believes the United States is now somewhere between the "complacency and apathy" phase of Professor Tyler's definition of democracy, with some forty percent of the nation's population already having reached the "governmental dependency" phase.


I need to wake up to the awful situation we are now facing in our wonderful country.  Why do I get so complacent in my comfortable circumstances? The freedoms we enjoy are going through the exit door as I am too busy in living life.

I

The Runaway

Me! as a little girl

     As my eyes opened I could hear the sounds of play and laughter coming from my siblings in my big family.  I could tell it was going to be a great day.  We called ourselves the Barker Bunch.  There were 5 of us kids which eventually turned into 11.  I was the oldest girl and had seven brothers and three sisters, the makings of a wonderful carefree childhood.  It was non-stop entertainment and having fun from the time the rooster crowed until we fell into bed exhausted.  Actually we never had a rooster, but we did have a chicken that perched herself on the window sill of our front picture window and laid eggs.  It was quite a sight for anyone coming to visit.  The chicken never bothered anyone as long as no one bothered her.
     One afternoon I didn't have anyone to play with.  All my brothers were preoccupied with their boy stuff and I was invited not to play with them.  The babies were all napping and I felt dejected for the first time in my young life.  I definitely didn't want to tell my mother I was bored or she would promptly find me a chore that needed to be done.  Me, little miss sociable - with no one to play with.  This was a crushing blow to my young ego.
     I wondered how long it would take for someone to miss me.  I hid in my closet and shut the door and pondered my new situation. I became a little melancholy and felt very alone in the midst of a large family.
     I don't know how much time had passed because I fell asleep.  When I awoke I wondered how long I had been sleeping.  I rehearsed the reasons why I was in the closet and realized no one had missed me.  But something was strangely different.  It was eerily quiet.  I don't think I had ever before heard silence in my seven years of existence.  There was always lots of action in our household, if not noise of happy children, then babies crying in the background.  It was a strange phenomenon .  Where was everyone?  Had they gone and left me alone?
     I quietly opened the door and was sure that no one was home.  I walked  through the halls of my own home and only heard the creaking of my shoes against the linoleum.  Where did they go?  Why would they just leave me?  As I walked outside on the porch I realized it was dusk.  I heard voices down the road.  I walked a little further to the end of my driveway and realized it was my name that was being called.  Becky! Becky! Becky! It was coming from a variety of voices.  I finally answered back "Hear I am".  My mother quickly came running and asked  "Where have you been?  We have had the whole neighborhood looking for you.  I was just coming home to call the police."
     I sheepishly said I had fallen asleep in my closet and I just now woke up.  I decided to leave out the part that I was a 7 year old runaway wanting to find out if anyone would miss me.  I felt bad that I had caused my family and neighbors to worry, but happy because I was missed and was an important person in my family.

Left Behind

A few of my grandchildren at Halloween

      As a young girl about 8 years old, I remember being left behind.  Really left behind! Our family was traveling to California from Ogden.  We stopped somewhere out in the middle of the desert to get gas and allow all us kids a chance to go to the bathroom.  There was probably about 6 of us then.  I remember the intense heat and how great it was to get out of that car for a break.

    

     My brothers all lined up in front of the boys restroom, and I (the only girl) waited in front of the ladies room.  Before I knew it, all my brothers were out and back to the car.  I just kept waiting.  I had no idea that the bathroom was locked and it would never be available. My mother was in the car with the baby, so I just kept waiting.  After what seemed to be an eternity, I started back for the car to report my unsuccessful attempt at the restroom, and as I turned the side of the building I saw our family car drive off.  Not only was I upset because I needed to go ….but now my family left me.  I started crying and the attendant quickly surmised the situation and brought me into the store and offered me a Popsicle.  He reassured me that within minutes they would realize that their daughter was missing.  It was almost ½ hour before they returned.  I will never forget that ½ hour of feeling really lost, alone and helpless.

     Fortunately, I survived and learned that for safety reasons that restrooms are sometimes kept locked, and all I needed to do was ask for a key.  I also realized how much I loved my family, and never wanted to be away from them again.  I have thought of this story many times in the last 50 plus years, and wondered what it would be like when I get to the other side of the veil, will I see my family there?  Will I feel lost and alone? Will the feelings of being alone be dissipated when I see my Heavenly Parents, my ancestors and family members that passed on before me?  Feeling all alone is what some people experience all the time.  Because of unfortunate circumstances they have no one, maybe that is why I recall this story, to be a reminder to reach out to others.

Reaching within

It is up to me to open the door

                                     

     I am not going to tell you the many stories of my failings in life.  Trust me, there are many.  The best description as to how I feel when I have done something wrong is from a beautiful young woman who said “ It is that wormy feeling you get when you do something you shouldn’t”.   Repentance is truly a wormy feeling, but it is a beautiful with all its “worminess” when understood, for it is the only true guide to life. 

     By giving ear to that Spirit of Christ, in hearing its rebukes, then letting its fires purge out the results of the mistakes committed, it wipes the slate clean.  I have found this is my true guide to perfect living.  My true pattern to life, revealed to me day by day, moment by moment as I have learned to live by it.  This voice when heeded will lift a person from mediocrity just as it lifts a plant from a mere seed. 
    

     No person is ever born without it.  None are so lowly, none so insignificant, so devoid of gifts and talents, so friendless and alone that they can learn to contact that “Still, small voice within.”  This voice will lead you to the life abundant, perfect and free.

This voice is the “Spirit of truth”, speaking from within.  It never flatters, It never condemns without cause.  It is the one true, unfailing, all-knowing, dependable friend.

     I have finally learned that the only advice I should give, along with comfort, is to teach others how to listen to that voice within their own souls.

This is the greatest service I can possibly render anyone.  Teach them how to “be still’ and know God.

     That same wormy feeling that makes me feel like the very “lowest thing on earth” is also the first to pat me on the back when I do the noble, or the splendid, unselfish thing.  It never lies.  It never flatters.  It never over-estimates.  It just knows and is.  It is the truest friend I ever had.  Listen to that voice and you will never fail in anything.  You will never feel deserted and alone as long as you listen to that voice. I will share a time when I did my first noble thing.  I had purchased several items at the store.  When I took the items out of the bag when I got home, I realized the clerk put my check back in the bag instead of the receipt.  I took the check back to them.  Amazingly, every time I think of it over the years I feel wonderful inside.

     Only the approval of that inner voice matters in anyone’s life.  No outside opinion counts.  Don’t take anyone’s advice, without first going within and listening to the still small voice for directions.

Love that voice within.  Praise it.  Honor it, and it will become a constant glory in your life.  

Strike Two

Stephen, Scott, Mom, baby Dan, Me, Evan

My brother Stephen, Scott, Evan and I were out playing baseball in our front yard.  It was a large yard and  was all fenced in so my mother could keep us from wandering off in the neighborhood.  My parents decided early on to have a big family and they wanted us all to be best friends with each other and so we stayed home most of the time.  This event happened on one of those days when we were enjoying being kids.

We were playing baseball in our front yard and it was Scott's turn to bat, and he hit a dusey - right into the big picture window in our living room.  I remember the fear that struck us all.  It was clearly an accident, but we knew my father had a bit of a temper and he would be really upset.
When my dad got home from work he was surprisingly calm.  I think my mother must have prepared him for the blow.  He called the glass company and they would be there the next day.  I must have walked into our living room a hundred times looking at that broken glass.  It was the biggest event of the summer.
The next day the window repairmen came,  all of us circled them and watched with great interest as they took out the broken (8 ft by 4 ft) window. Then they cleaned out the window frame preparing it for the new window to be put in.  It was fascinating for us children to watch as they worked.  Then they carefully walked the new window back in the house and to our surprise it fit precisely into the hole they had so carefully prepared.  We kids were all eyes as we watched the magical procedure of replacing the huge front window.
Then they packed up and left, waved good bye, and drove down the street into the sunset.  We came back into the living room to admire the beautiful new window.  It seemed so enchanting and exciting.

My brother picked up a hammer that the repairmen had left and hollered "Hey look what I found - as he swung it in our direction the head came loose and it flew right into the new window.  We stood there horrified!  How could this happen again?  Time seemed to stand still as my mother stared at the broken window and then walked to the phone to call our Dad.  I don't think my brother Scott came out of shock for what it seemed like an eternity.  He was too frightened to even speak or move.  My mother calmly explained to my father the last ten minute escapade.
Before the day was over we could hear the same truck as it pulled into our driveway.  The same repairmen with the same tools, with a new window.  Very apologetic my mother explained what happened.  All of us kids stood even further away as we watched a repeat of the morning's episode of window replacing.  We were all silent and stood further away until it was completed.

For weeks after this experience we hardly dared walk into our living room.  And when we did, it was as if it were a church or some sacred monument.  Our voices were hushed and we walked with respect for fear our big window might be jinxed.

A story worth sharing...

A story worth sharing and a movie worth seeing.  

The sky was gloomy that morning as we waited anxiously. All the men, women and children of Piotrkow's Jewish ghetto had been herded into a square.

Word had gotten around that we were being moved. My father had only recently died from typhus, which had run rampant through the crowded ghetto. My greatest fear was that our family would be separated.

'Whatever you do,' Isidore, my eldest brother, whispered to me, 'don't tell them your age. Say you're sixteen.

'I was tall for a boy of 11, so I could pull it off. That way I might be deemed valuable as a worker.

An SS man approached me, boots clicking against the cobblestones. He looked me up and down, and then asked my age.

'Sixteen,' I said. He directed me to the left, where my three brothers and other healthy young men already stood.

My mother was motioned to the right with the other women, children, sick and elderly people.

I whispered to Isidore, 'Why?'

He didn't answer.

I ran to Mama's side and said I wanted to stay with her.

'No, 'she said sternly.

'Get away. Don't be a nuisance. Go with your brothers.'

She had never spoken so harshly before. But I understood: She was protecting me. She loved me so much that, just this once, she pretended not to. It was the last I ever saw of her.

My brothers and I were transported in a cattle car to Germany.

We arrived at the Buchenwald concentration camp one night later and were led into a crowded barrack. The next day, we were issued uniforms and identification numbers.

'Don't call me Herman anymore.' I said to my brothers. 'Call me 94983.'

I was put to work in the camp's crematorium, loading the dead into a hand-cranked elevator.

I, too, felt dead. Hardened, I had become a number.

Soon, my brothers and I were sent to Schlieben, one of Buchenwald 's sub-camps near Berlin ...

One morning I thought I heard my mother's voice.

'Son,' she said softly but clearly, I am going to send you an angel.'

Then I woke up. Just a dream. A beautiful dream.

But in this place there could be no angels. There was only work. And hunger. And fear.

A couple of days later, I was walking around the camp, around the barracks, near the barbed-wire fence where the guards could not easily see. I was alone.

On the other side of the fence, I spotted someone: a little girl with light, almost luminous curls. She was half-hidden behind a birch tree.

I glanced around to make sure no one saw me. I called to her softly in German. 'Do you have something to eat?'

She didn't understand.

I inched closer to the fence and repeated the question in Polish. She stepped forward. I was thin and gaunt, with rags wrapped around my feet, but the girl looked unafraid. In her eyes, I saw life.

She pulled an apple from her woolen jacket and threw it over the fence.

I grabbed the fruit and, as I started to run away, I heard her say faintly, 'I'll see you tomorrow.'

I returned to the same spot by the fence at the same time every day. She was always there with something for me to eat - a hunk of bread or, better yet, an apple.

We didn't dare speak or linger. To be caught would mean death for us both.

I didn't know anything about her, just a kind farm girl, except that she understood Polish. What was her name? Why was she risking her life for me?

Hope was in such short supply, and this girl on the other side of the fence gave me some, as nourishing in its way as the bread and apples.

Nearly seven months later, my brothers and I were crammed into a coal car and shipped to Theresienstadt camp in Czechoslovakia .

'Don't return,' I told the girl that day. 'We're leaving.'

I turned toward the barracks and didn't look back, didn't even say good-bye to the little girl whose name I'd ever learned, the girl with the apples.

We were in Theresienstadt for three months. The war was winding down and Allied forces were closing in, yet my fate seemed sealed.

On May 10, 1945, I was scheduled to die in the gas chamber at 10:00 AM.

In the quiet of dawn, I tried to prepare myself. So many times death seemed ready to claim me, but somehow I'd survived. Now, it was over.

I thought of my parents. At least, I thought, we will be reunited.

But at 8 a.m. there was a commotion. I heard shouts, and saw people running every which way through camp. I caught up with my brothers.

Russian troops had liberated the camp! The gates swung open. Everyone was running, so I did too. Amazingly, all of my brothers had survived;

I'm not sure how. But I knew that the girl with the apples had been the key to my survival.

In a place where evil seemed triumphant, one person's goodness had saved my life, had given me hope in a place where there was none.

My mother had promised to send me an angel, and the angel had come.

Eventually I made my way to England where I was sponsored by a Jewish charity, put up in a hostel with other boys who had survived the Holocaust and trained in electronics. Then I came to America, where my brother Sam had already moved. I served in the U. S. Army during the Korean War, and returned to New York City after two years.

By August 1957 I'd opened my own electronics repair shop. I was starting to settle in.

One day, my friend Sid who I knew from England called me.

'I've got a date. She's got a Polish friend. Let's double date.'

A blind date? Nah, that wasn't for me.

But Sid kept pestering me, and a few days later we headed up to the Bronx to pick up his date and her friend Roma.

I had to admit, for a blind date this wasn't so bad. Roma was a nurse at a Bronx hospital. She was kind and smart. Beautiful, too, with swirling brown curls and green, almond-shaped eyes that sparkled with life.

The four of us drove out to Coney Island . Roma was easy to talk to, easy to be with.

Turned out she was wary of blind dates too!

We were both just doing our friends a favor. We took a stroll on the boardwalk, enjoying the salty Atlantic breeze, and then had dinner by the shore. I couldn't remember having a better time.

We piled back into Sid's car, Roma and I sharing the backseat.

As European Jews who had survived the war, we were aware that much had been left unsaid between us. She broached the subject, 'Where were you,' she asked softly, 'during the war?'

'The camps,' I said. The terrible memories still vivid, the irreparable loss..I had tried to forget. But you can never forget.

She nodded. 'My family was hiding on a farm in Germany, not far from Berlin ,' she told me. 'My father knew a priest, and he got us Aryan papers.'

I imagined how she must have suffered too, fear, a constant companion. And yet here we were both survivors, in a new world.

'There was a camp next to the farm.' Roma continued. 'I saw a boy there and I would throw him apples every day.'

What an amazing coincidence that she had helped some other boy. 'What did he look like? I asked.

'He was tall, skinny, and hungry. I must have seen him every day for six months.'

My heart was racing. I couldn't believe it.

This couldn't be.

'Did he tell you one day not to come back because he was leaving Schlieben?'

Roma looked at me in amazement. 'Yes!'

'That was me!'

I was ready to burst with joy and awe, flooded with emotions. I couldn't believe it! My angel.

'I'm not letting you go.' I said to Roma. And in the back of the car on that blind date, I proposed to her. I didn't want to wait.

‘You're crazy!' she said. But she invited me to meet her parents for Shabbat dinner the following week.

There was so much I looked forward to learning about Roma, but the most important things I always knew: her steadfastness, her goodness. For many months, in the worst of circumstances, she had come to the fence and given me hope. Now that I'd found her again, I could never let her go.

That day, she said yes. And I kept my word. After nearly 50 years of marriage, two children and three grandchildren, I have never let her go.

Herman Rosenblat of Miami Beach , Florida

This story is being made into a movie called The Fence. 

Dare to Stand alone

Elizabeth & Emily

     What an embarrassing moment!  I just remembered  the time when our daughter Elizabeth  qualified to compete in the area finals in gymnastics for her age group.  It was pretty exciting to go off to Las Vegas where the competition would be held.  Then we found out it was to be held on Sunday.  We just thought it would be OK since it was her first opportunity to compete on a higher level.

     Even though I felt guilty for being gone over Sunday I just tried to rationalize that it was a great accomplishment.  Anyway, after the competition Sunday we left to drive back home and I felt an awful feeling inside of me and I knew we had made a big mistake not just for me but for our daughter.  At first I thought it was the gloominess in our surroundings.  Then I realized that the gloominess came from within me.  It just didn't feel like Sunday.  My Sunday's had always been a special day where I would feel the spirit and I felt that void.

     The embarrassing moment came when we learned later that my cousins daughter, won first place in the entire state of Utah in gymnastics, and was to compete in California against the best of the best from the surrounding states. I called to congratulate my cousin on the accomplishment of her daughter and she said.  "Yes it was great but when she found out the competition was on Sunday she declined and let the 1st runner up take her place.  She said it like it was no big deal. I didn't say anything else.  Here she was the State Champion and she stood up for what she believed in, "to keep the Sabbath Holy",  while I caved in to the pride of competing for a small regional competition.  I re-learned a valuable lesson that I needed to "Dare to stand alone and dare to stand up for what is right."

Zack Rogers

Submissive like a child

Colby and Tyler (cousins)

     A call came a few days ago from a Bishop in another ward, another stake, asking John and I if we would speak in his Sacrament Meeting Sunday.  We agreed, and then he gave us the subject.  It was to be based on two scriptures, both from Mosiah chapter 3:19 and chapter 5:15.

     I focused on the words 'becoming submissive to our Heavenly father like a child is submissive to their parents.  Also the key words in chapter 5 were being steadfast and immovable.  I recalled the perfect story of my grandson being perfectly submissive to his father and being steadfast in his assignment.

     I was awakened real early in the morning hearing a noise, I couldn't tell what it was.  I got out of bed and realized I was at my daughters home.  I walked into their family room next to where my two grandsons slept. There at 6:15 on a Saturday morning was my 7 year old Tyler picking up toys and sorting them into buckets.
I asked him "Tyler what are you doing? I am cleaning the family room.  But it is 6:15 in the morning.  "Well, my dad asked me to clean up as soon as I got up this morning. " I asked if his brother was suppose to help him and he said "Yes, but he hasn't woke up yet?  I asked if he wanted me to help him, but he said no its OK, I told my dad I would do it.  From the looks of the room he was about 50% done, yet there were hundreds of small parts to toys everywhere and he was in the process of sorting them where they needed to go.

Here was a small boy being willing to submit to his parent, as well as being steadfast in his job.  It seems he could have used a dozen excuses for not doing it, such as "It's too early in the morning, I'm still tired, Ryan isn't helping me, I didn't get these toys out why should I have to put them back."  this story touched me as well as those I told it to as a perfect example of willing to be submissive.  I determined as I shared that story with people I didn't even know that I needed to be 100% submissive to what my Heavenly Father ask of me and do it willingly.

It doesn't seem fair

Irena Sendler died May 12, 2008 (age 98) Warsaw, Poland.  She lived through WWII. 

Irena, got permission to work in the Warsaw ghetto, as a Plumbing/Sewer specialist during the war.

She had an ulterior motive. Irena smuggled Jewish infants out in the bottom of the tool box she carried.

She also carried a burlap sack in the back of her truck, for larger kids. Irena kept a dog in the back that she trained to bark when the Nazi soldiers let her in and out of the ghetto.

The soldiers, of course, wanted nothing to do with the dog and the barking covered the kids/infants noises. During her time of doing this, she managed to smuggle out and save 2500 kids/infants. Ultimately, she was caught, however, and the Nazi's broke both of her legs and arms and beat her severely. Irena kept a record of the names of all the kids she had smuggled out, in a glass jar that she buried under a tree in her back yard.

After the war, she tried to locate any parents that may have survived and tried to reunite the family. Most had been gassed. Those kids she helped got placed into foster family homes or adopted. In 2007 Irena was up for the Nobel Peace Prize. She was not selected.

Al Gore won, for a slide show on Global Warming. Later another politician, Barack Hussein Obama, won for his work as a community organizer for ACORN. 


Now it's 102 years later (May 12th) since she was born.  Irena is a REAL HERO and should have received the Nobel Peace Prize.  The world may not recognize her as a great human being but I do. 


 Thank you Irena for your contribution to this world and Happy Birthday.

Prized Possession

Shelby Lee 3

     This morning I was reading in the book of Mosiah.  King Mosiah taught some powerful things to his sons. What struck me as most important was his admonition to read from the plates.  He said "If it were not for these plates, which contain the records and commandments, we must have suffered in ignorance, even at this present time, not knowing God or the mysteries of God."  Wow!  Do we feel that way about our scriptures?  We have so much more than they ever had.  Do we realize that we too would be in complete ignorance at this time in our lives if we did not have them?  I realize that over the years I  did not put a  priority on the scriptures.  I have had great excuses, I was raising 7 children, I have to cook, clean, carpool, help with homework, scouts and PTA.
      We tried to read a chapter each morning before they left for school, but no one's heart was into it, especially mine.  It was always a relief on the weekend not to have to read scriptures.  Scriptures did not hold a priority at all.  I just had no idea of their value.  Being raised in the church since birth they have always been around and I have taken them for granted.  Yes, they are the word of God, but that was about the extent of my excitement for them.
     Then something changed, or maybe I just changed.  I value them highly as they have become a prized possession.  Why? Staring death right in the face, your perspective changes.  Big changes take place and the "Words of God" means everything.  It doesn't matter which book of scriptures I am reading, they all seem to apply directly to me as if my name is written on them.  I can't survive spiritually from day to day if I don't get some of God's words into my mind and heart.  All my problems just seem to disappear, and nothing seems to disconnect me from my link to my Father in Heaven as I can deal with all things.  Also the spirit always seems to speak to me as to how I need to apply His words into my life.
     Don't get me wrong, there are days when  it is difficult to find the time to read.  On those days if I tell the Lord my time constraint in prayer, and read regardless, I find treasures of great value in just a single verse, which is enough to sustain me for my busy day.
     I realize we are only one generation away from apostasy.  Yes, apostasy.  If we fail to teach our children the words of God, they most likely will not see the importance to teach their children and our link will be broken.  I do not want to be held accountable for failing to teach my children (no matter what age they are).

Influence

       Have you ever been caught in a blizzard that you cannot see 1 foot in front of you.  Add that to being out in the middle of no where and the temperature turns way below zero. The worst storm of the century and what do you do?

      I read a wonderful book a few years ago, which I recommend to young and old alike it's called “BLIZZARD”  by LR Lehmann.  It is a true story of an incredible human being.  I suspect it will change your life.  It changed mine. 

     Michael, who lost his mother at age 10, had to quit school because his father, who wasted his money drinking, lost their home and the two of them worked as dishwashers on a river boat for board and room.  What he does with his life is an inspiration to the world.

     When I read stories of real life heroes, it inspires me to want to be a better, stronger more courageous person.  It’s not just the disadvantages this young man had, but the courage he mustered when all the adults in his community gave up on him, that makes him a hero.  Where did he get this courage?  His mother inspired him at a very young age.  He wouldn’t give up on life just because of his disabilities even though everyone else did. 

     The book taught me, as a mother the incredible responsibility I have to inspire all children around me.  Just one phrase, can change a child’s life forever.  This book proves that point so well.  We never know the influence we can have on the children we meet in life.

This would be a great summer reading book for the whole family.

POWER

     Is there POWER in the scriptures?  There is for me.  Power for what?     Power to influence me and change my life for good.  Today I taught a lesson in Relief Society to the sisters in my ward on the scriptures, the POWER of the scriptures that is available if we but study, ponder and memorize  the words of the Lord.  I learned so much from the sisters in my ward as they shared the scriptures that had influenced their life during difficult times. 

     When I was ill with cancer, and things did not look well for me, I memorized this scripture, which changed my life forever. 

    “I am God.  I am a God of miracles.  I will show the world that I am the same yesterday, today and forever.  And I show not my power unto the children of men, save it be according to their faith.”

     What that meant to me was that God does perform miracles today just like he did when he walked upon the earth.  And he wants to show the world he is the same God today, as he was yesterday.  But he refuses to show his power to those who don’t have faith.  I needed that faith, I believed, but belief is only the beginning stage of faith.  Faith is much more.  Many times during that time of my life I prayed and asked my Heavenly Father to help strengthen my faith, and help me to be a woman of strong faith. 

     I now look back over that period of illness in my life, and testify that God is a God of miracles and that He was there for me in so many ways and He healed me as my belief changed to faith.  The scriptures all testify that our Heavenly Father loves us and He wants to give us all he has, if we will turn our lives over to him and TRUST him completely.

Hunger Games

    We went to see the movie "Hunger Games". If you are hungry for child abuse perpetuated by the government, don't miss this movie.  If you are hungry for a movie with violence and blood, it's a must see.  I noticed as the sold-out crowds of people left the theater, that no one was smiling.  I wasn't the only one that felt a bit melancholy. Don't take me wrong, I read the series when they first came out, and it is very well written, meaning the author keep my attention from page to page.  Should a well written book be my criteria?

   The books made me think, and think hard...about where we've been and where we're going as a global society. Similar atrocities for sport, gambling and entertainment has happened in the past. A symbol to its violence still stands today: The Roman Coliseum where victims who were killed for fun while their fellow human beings watched on. 

     Good and evil are everywhere: the world is full of it.  I was reading the book of Abraham just yesterday and I was reminded that child abuse was prevalent thousands of years ago as they sacrificed young virgins to their many Idol worshiping Gods.  Or in the end of the Book of Mormon when the men were killed by their enemy, then fed their husband's bodies to their wives and children to eat while in bondage.

     Opposition has been with us since the beginning of time and has been recorded in the scriptures, as well as other documents. Evil is in the world we live in, I just don't need to see it in a movie. It's hard enough to keep life light and uplifting.

    It is definitely not for children.  I remember seeing the move "King Kong" as a 10 year old and being frightened to be alone anywhere in my house for over a week.  I still remember the emotions I felt from that movie over 50 years later.  But children killing children is just too much for me.  What is a movie like this doing to our young people?  What do they think?  Can it happen in real life? You bet it can.  Do we need to fill our minds with it? Definitely not. I know I felt dark inside after the movie and it will take some time to remove it from my mind.

The show depicts these points of control:

 • Control over food: Residents of the 12 districts are not allowed to eat more food than they are allotted 
    by the government. Being caught catching a squirrel for food results in severe punishment.

 • Control over land: The 12 districts are fenced off with high-voltage power lines, much like you might

    find in North Korea today.

 • Control over the media: The government controls all media, and every broadcast is a staged

    theatrical event, completely fabricated by the government to serve the interests of the government itself.

 • Control of DNA: Residents of the districts are identified through the taking of DNA blood samples.

 • Control over life itself: The government toys with human life and seems to be amused by 

    expressing   heartless power over the masses.

     In the film (and the book), the government is obsessed with total oppression of the people, denying them food and resources and carrying out mind games against them that sap their courage and convince them they have no personal power.

     I can't help comparing my night at the movies to the dinner party we had at our home the evening after.  It was as different as night and day.  At the the dinner party we laughed and enjoyed getting to know everyone better, it was fun and uplifting. 

     It's not just this movie, this movie made me wake up, and I must speak up against evil. Satan uses media to deceive me by making what is wrong and evil look normal, humorous, or exciting.  He tries to mislead me into thinking that breaking God's commandments is acceptable and has no negative consequences for me.  I know better than to view anything vulgar, immoral, violent or pornographic and I feel bad I didn't walk out of the theater.  Why? Because it drives away the spirit, and I need the spirit to direct me 24/7, as the Liahona directed Nephi's family.

The choices of media can influence  
thoughts and actions now and in the future.

Pain

Granddaughter Megan 2

     Have you ever felt horrific pain?  I have. Cancer to car accidents, one time my appendices exploded for almost 3 days before it was diagnosed.  I know people who have suffered much more than I, and much longer than I, yet as terrible as pain is, there are pains from other sources that are worse.  And that is spiritual pain. It can fester and grow much worse than physical woes.


     Easter, having just passed, I was again reminded of the pain my Savior suffered for me.  I still cannot imagine what he went through, but I know he did. Out of love for His Father and love for me, my Savior allowed Himself to suffer beyond the capacity of mortal man.  Even as God, his suffering caused him to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore, why? It all boils down to His love for me and you.  All that is required on my part is that I repent and obey His commandments.  After all, this is His earth, His air I borrow from moment to moment to sustain life.  His water and food that is provided to keep me going.   


     My Savior broke the bands of death, and because of that event,  I know that I will too, and my daughter and two sons, father and two brothers who have left this earth are not in the cold grave but live.  


     This is my testimony and I know it to be true.   Justice has been met by the atonement of Jesus Christ and I will always be in debt to Him for his Mercy extended to me.

Foster the Foster children

Foster children

     In the mid 90's we were asked to foster 3 siblings.  Our family was excited to help.  When we picked the children up from the shelter the case worker said " The oldest boy is wild, he fought and screamed when I took him away from his mother".  He was sleeping when we carefully loaded him in our car.
     When he woke up I put a big smile on my face and said " Hi, I am Rebecca and I am your mom's friend and we will be taking good care of you and your brother and sister until your mom returns."  He was OK with that and all went well.  At first they thought it would only be a few weeks, but it ended up being many months.  The children were delightful, respectful, well-mannered and our teenagers loved them, like they were nieces and nephews.
     Each week I drove them to have a supervised visit with their mother, and 3 older siblings.  They were so excited to visit with her and see their siblings, but also happy to come back with us because we were very good to them.
     After 3 months I got a call asking me if I would testify on behalf of getting the children back with their mother.  The courts had already made up their mind to have them permanently taken away from their mom.  I asked the case worker, what were the charges?  She said "her house was a mess and we have pictures to prove it."  So I was being asked by the family to give my side of the story.
     I was pretty scared since I was asked to take care of the children by the state and was going to testify against them.  Here is what happened:
     "Mrs Lee," we have had a counselor interview the children and and found them to be behind socially, mentally and intellectually, and recommend them to be placed for adoption, what do you have to say to this?
I said "Shame on you for not asking my opinion before this was brought to court," I have had these children in my care for 24/7 for over 3 months. I have found these children to be socially, mentally and intellectually on target.  You have a family counselor interview the 3 of them in less than one hour and decided that the older one was behind because he wouldn't talk to him, and that he fought and screamed and had to be pulled away from his mother.  I have grandchildren his age, and they are taught not to talk to strangers and if a stranger yanked them out of their mother's arms they would fight and scream too."
    You say that the little girl wet the bed at night.  Never while she was at my home.  And you say the 18 month old is behind in the amount of words expected for his age.  Again, I have two grandchildren the same age and he is on their level.  These children are polite, respectful and even pickup after themselves.  Someone has taught them good manners, and when you have 6 children you have to choose a spotless home for things like  manners. I think they have been trained and taught well.
      "Mrs.  Lee we have pictures of the apartment they were living in, look at it."  Yes, and I understand that their mother had a broken arm at the time these pictures were taken, and was in the process of packing and moving.  I see they have opened every closet and cupboard in her apartment to take these pictures. I'm glad you never visited me when I was in the process of moving.
     "Mrs. Lee look at this fridge, what do you see."  I see a fridge full of food, and yes, it looks like a child spilled Worcestershire sauce off the top shelf and it splattered on all the shelves and made a mess, but that is not the point, it is full of milk, cheese, eggs food.  If my husband were gone, I had a broken arm, and yes I had 6 children, I would probably need some help wiping down the inside of the fridge, which is what your case workers should have done instead of take them out the arms of their mother.
     The case was closed and they were returned to their mother.  We said goodbye to the 3 sweet little darlings and I was proud of myself for standing up for them, knowing that it would probably be the last fostering job I ever had. Which it wasn't because a few years later we got Lyndee, who we adopted.

Goals

Erisa
(A granddaughter)

     Can you go a year without drinking a soda pop?
Erisa can!  Seven year old Erisa (daughter of Mandi and Brian) has committed herself to go one entire year without drinking a soda pop of any kind.  Even under difficult circumstances like Disney world, birthday parties, family get-togethers, and etc. she just politely tells everyone "I don't drink soda pop."
     
     Sometimes pressure comes from those that don't believe she can do it.  However you don't know Erisa, she is determined and when she sets her mind to something she follows through.


    She knows it's not good for her body, so she just simply says "water please." She says she will probably never drink it again even when her year is up and is considering setting a goal to not eat candy the following year.


    Way to go Erisa!  I and many others are proud of you for setting a good example and I think you will be surprised how many people you have influenced.


     It is by small and simple things that great things are brought to pass.  I can't help but think of the new "Strength Of Youth" pamphlet that just came out by the church.  Keeping goals set forth for the youth seem simple, yet they can bring forth great and mighty leaders of the future, and lasting happiness to those who accomplish them.  Youth who are not afraid to stand up for that which is right and not afraid to be valiant will have an influence for good in a decaying world.

If you don't know where you are going,
you'll end up someplace else.

Babies



Babies

Babies! Who doesn't love them.  Here are a few of my grand-babies.  
Sometimes science gets it right. Here is a 10 minute presentation that will strengthen your belief in a living God through the miracle of birth.  It is a miracle!   
         http://www.youtube.com/watch_popup?v=fKyljukBE70  Don't miss this youtube.


Little children are alive in Christ.  They are an heritage unto the Lord.  We learn more from our children than we did from our parents.  In the sunset of my life, I love and appreciate all the little ones in our family.  What a responsibility my children have in helping their children become all they are suppose to be.

Each baby comes with a unique personality and distinct 
dispositions, gifts, talents and abilities.  Babies bring joy into my life especially when I can enjoy them and then send them home.

A baby will make love stronger, days shorter, nights longer, bankroll smaller, home happier, clothes shabbier, the past forgotten, and the future worth living for.