Birds chirped as the next day dawned sunny and mild. Butterflies flitted from flower to flower in the lush cutting garden. A warm, gentle breeze rippled the water of the small lake that was at the center of a dozen homes. A small, snoring pink pig cuddled next to a sleeping duck at the end of a bright fuscia pier. A very angry looking old man was huffing as he hobbled toward the pier from across a large, plush lawn. His anger seemed to grow with every break his crooked body forced him to take. His wispy white hair lifted in the breeze, away from the sides of his very balding, pink head.
Grace turned to watch the man’s very slow approach towards her seat at the end of the well maintained and very colorful pier. A small paddleboat was tied to the pier with thick, oiled rope. As the man’s worn boots began to clomp down the pier, the duck awoke with a quack and fell into the blue lake. The tiny pig squealed in alarm and stared over the edge of the pier.
Grace clicked her tongue at the startled animals. “It’s all right, shhhhh, it’s all right. It’s just Mr. O’Shea. Rosie, get a hold of yourself, she’ll be fine.” She stroked the pig gently and tried to soothe the agitated bird that was frantically flapping her wings in the water. “Ms Piggle, remember, you’re a water fowl. That means that you can SWIM. Don’t forget what you learned in your lessons…stay calm…you float.”
The bird’s flapping quieted, as the duck calmed. She awkwardly swam to the nearby shore and waddled out of the water. The pig trotted to the edge of the pier and waited for the duck. As the old man very slowly made his way to the end of the pier, the duck turned to him and quacked once, sounding as angry as a duck can sound (although, truth be told, it sounded more like a pig’s grunt.) She was echoed by a snort from the pig.
Grace smiled. “Ms Piggle! Mind your manners! That’s not how we treat guests.” In her hands she held a well used fishing pole. The fishing line was stretched down to the water and was tied to a red and white bob.
“Why, Mr. O’Shea, what brings you here on this lovely morning?”
The old man glared. “How can it be a lovely morning when this monstrosity of a dock is burning out my retinas? And for the millionth time, it’s Mr. SHAY, Ms Snodgrass.”
“Tsk,tsk, let’s not get petty Mr. O’Shea. I would think you would be proud of the great heritage that comes with your name.”
“What, a heritage of loonies and drunkards? I don’t think so.”
Sighing, Grace reeled in her fishing line. “Would you like to come in for some herbal tea? Chamomile would do wonders for your temperament, I think.”
“No, of course I don’t want any nasty tea. I want to know how that stupid dock got to be a more horrendous color overnight…again.”
“Mr. O’Shea, we’ve been over this many times. How would 2 seventy something women manage to paint an entire pier overnight? Not to mention, WHY would we do such a thing? It’s just ridiculous.” She finished reeling in her line, removed the colorful, fishhook festooned hat from her head and patted her hair into place. She gracefully stood, and took off her well-used fishing vest.
“I guess it’s time for me to go in anyway. Was there anything else, Mr. O’Shea?”
“Yeah, how do you expect to catch anything if you don’t use a hook?” He looked up at her, disgruntled.
“Sir, have you ever heard the expression that “life is a journey, not a destination”?”
“No.”
“Well, I can’t really explain it to you; just know that it very aptly sums things up. Good day.”
With her arms full of fishing pole, hat, and vest, Grace softly whistled to the animals. “Come on girls, let’s go find Aggie.”
She purposefully strode past an open-mouthed Patrick Owen O’Shea- changed to Shay as soon as he was of a legal age to make it happen- and walked toward the house.
Having been summarily dismissed, an even more irritated Mr. Shay turned and stomped (as best as he could) back home.
Aggie had witnessed her sister’s exit from the company of their terminally crabby neighbor. She waited at a beautiful stained glass door that opened into a small greenhouse that led into the kitchen. Kenny Sanders, another one of their grown “indians”, had shown up one day with a work crew in tow, and built the aunts a greenhouse. Aggie was forever trying to grow different things. There were always seedlings, in their tiny peat pots, scattered throughout the greenhouse. It was so much easier to coax the tiny plants into productivity than it used to be. They used to be spread all throughout the house, on the many window sills. Sunlight was never a problem, as the house had lots of windows to choose from. The problem, as it turned out, was that they were spread throughout the house. Aggie would invariably find a dried out little peat pot on some forgotten sill, and would grump about it for the rest of the day. Whenever Grace found the withered seedlings first, she always snuck them out to the compost bin…after all, what are sisters for?
“Gracie, you really shouldn’t goad the poor man.”
“Poor man? He’s a loathsome, nasty creature. I have yet to see a changeling that could best him.”
“Hush, don’t be bringing any eyes or ears to us. Heaven knows who you might offend.”
Grace snorted, “You think I don’t know? I just can’t think of a better comparison.”
Aggie giggled, covering her mouth with a garden-gloved hand. “There is truth to that, I suppose! What was it today?”
“The pier; apparently, we’re blinding him with fuscia.”
“Oh Gracie, one day you’re going to push that man over the edge…although, it IS a beautiful color; my compliments.”
“Why thank you sister dear. Sometimes, I could just slap myself for even introducing myself to that man! Of course, then we wouldn’t have Erin, or our little Penny…hindsight and all that. Come on ladies, shall we have some breakfast?”
Grace led the way through scented flowers and plants, heavy with ripe vegetables, into the kitchen. She was followed by her sister, in a large sun hat and garden gloves, a still irate duck, and a tiny, pink pig.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Story from my talk on adversity
Once upon a time in a beautiful kingdom far away, there lived a royal family. They were a happy family, with a king and queen that were wise and loving parents and many princes and princesses.
One night, during a family council, one of the princes asked his parents “when I grow up, will I be a King, just like Father?”
The wise King answered “you can be.”
One small princess asked “Can I be a Queen?”
Her mother smiled and answered “you can be, but it’s not easy.”
The King and Queen decided that it was time for their children to understand the steps to becoming truly royal.
“You will each need to go on a quest. You will need to leave home and then find your way back.”
One of the princes from the back of the room piped up, “well, that doesn’t sound all that hard.”
“It’s harder than you think,” answered the King. “You see, you won’t remember where we are, or even who we are. Plus, you’ll need to get past the fierce dragon that will try to keep you from getting home.”
A princess shook her head. “I don’t like the sound of this. I think I’ll just stay here.”
The King hugged his daughter as he explained to all of his children. “I won’t make you go on your quest, but you can’t stay here unless you do go.”
One of the younger princesses sniffled “How will we find our way back?”
“We’ll give you a map” said the King, “and a guide; is there anyone that would be willing to volunteer?”
The eldest of the princes and princesses had watched each of his brothers and sisters grow and loved each of them dearly. More than anything, he wanted to have them all as a big, happy family again. “Father, Mother, I’ll be the guide.”
The King nodded “alright, but your quest is the most difficult of all. You will have to follow my directions exactly.”
The oldest prince answered “I will Father, I promise.”
Time passed as all of the royal children prepared for their quest. They went to classes to learn about the kingdom and studied very hard. They each tried to prepare as best they could for the many changes that would happen when they left home. Finally, there was nothing left to study…it was time to go. As they all began walking toward the gate that opened into the kingdom, their eldest brother gently explained that they would each have to go through the gate by themselves and that they would probably forget what they had learned.
One of the princesses sighed, “then why did I study so hard?”
The elder brother smiled, “just because you forget it for a bit, doesn’t mean that you no longer have the knowledge. You’ll just have to figure out how to jog your memory.”
The princess nodded, “OK. Where’s my map? There’s no time like the present to get started.”
The elder Brother smiled again. “I can’t give it to you, you have to find it and learn how to use it. It’s out there. I know you’ll find it; then you can help your brothers and sisters find it. You’ll be able to work together to figure out how to follow the map. There’s enough of the map for all to use it.”
The gathered crowd of princes and princesses nodded their heads and set out toward the gate, to wait their turn; each determined to make it back home.
At the gate, the King and Queen gave each of their children a hug and a kiss. Before each son or daughter stepped through the gate, the King would whisper guidance to them.
To one princess, he whispered “I’m going to tie a cloth around your eyes. You won’t be able to see, and you’ll need to walk.” The princess groaned, walking sounded like a lot of work, and how could she get anywhere if she couldn’t see? Plus, how would she paint and draw?
She asked the King “Why Father? My brother just left riding a beautiful horse and he can still see. Why can’t I?”
The King answered “my precious child, I love you so very much. I want you to learn to love the people of our kingdom; how can you learn to love them and understand them if you are too distracted to be able to really listen to what they have to tell you?”
The princess sighed again, “I’m not sure I can do this. I’ll miss you terribly and I’m all alone.”
The King whispered. “Your brother will be there to show you the way. Find him and help others to find him so that none of you will have to travel alone.”
The Queen embraced her daughter. “Remember you can call us anytime, night or day. Your Father will be available at all times. Sometimes the reception is bad where you’ll be, so you’ll have to listen very hard. Here, take this gift from us.” And she handed the princess a wind-up song bird. “Now you’ll have music wherever you go. Beauty isn’t just for the eyes to see. Make sure to share it with your brothers and sisters.”
And so it went, one by one, each of the princes and the princesses said good-bye to their parents. Each left with their instructions from the King and some left with the understanding that their bodies would not do well outside of the gate; that it might be painful Others were overcome by sadness as they stepped out into the Kingdom. Some found that their instructions were to prepare them to live in some of the more unpleasant parts of the kingdom. Some, it seemed, walked out without any thing to hinder them at all.
Each one also left with a gift of some kind that they were to share with their siblings. The gift was to remind them of home and of their loving parents that waited for them.
They all were told to keep their eyes and ears open, so to avoid the vicious dragon and to hear the messages sent from the King.
Time moved on, as it always does. The royal princes and princesses became accustomed to living in the kingdom. They had forgotten what they’d left behind. Many didn’t share their gifts with anyone else, and some even forgot about their gift altogether. The King and Queen tried to send packages and messages to their many children to guide them, comfort them, and to help reawaken the knowledge they had learned before they left. Some of the princes and princesses heard the King’s messages and stayed in close contact with their parents, communicating often. Others were in areas that caused too much interference for the messages to get through to them.
The Eldest Prince left sign-posts to help his siblings find him. He walked the path often to see if anyone needed his help.
In the middle of the kingdom lived the very crafty dragon. Once he realized that the royal children had been warned to steer clear of any dragon that came along, he hired some help. The Trolls he employed put up signs that tricked the princes and princesses into following the wrong path. Before they even realized they were lost, the trolls would invite them to a grand party to see a great treasure and to sit down to a fine feast. The trolls even offered to teach the royal children how to get their own riches by stealing- although, they called it, “taking from those that don’t deserve it” and by trickery- they called that “setting up a great deal.” Some of the princes and princesses did so well they started to work for the dragon themselves.
The princes and princesses that refused the troll’s invitations found that the dragon didn’t give up easily. He created avalanches to bury them so that they couldn’t go any further. The eldest brother always came to dig them out, along with some of their siblings. The dragon then sent insects to bite the royal travelers to make them sick, and whispers on the breeze to try to make them turn against each other and fight. Unfortunately, some of the princes and princesses got distracted and fell behind. When the Eldest brother went back to find them, they refused his help. He would sadly nod.
“I’ll be back in case you change your mind.”
The princes and princesses that had read the map and followed their older brother, eventually made it back home. It had been a long trip on a very bumpy path.
The gates opened and the King and Queen hugged each of their children as they walked back into their home. One of the returning travelers was the princess that had left with a cloth tied over her eyes and without a horse to ride.
The King asked her “How was it?”
She smiled as she replied “it was very hard. At one point, my feet were so swollen and sore, I couldn’t take another step. It was horrible, I was stuck out there all alone, I couldn’t see to find my way and I couldn’t get through to you.”
The King nodded, “Yes, we could hear you, you just couldn’t hear us. So we alerted your brother.”
“That’s just it, Father, a man showed up and took me to his home. He fed me and cleaned my feet. Then he told me that my brother had sent him. I ended up staying there for quite a long time. Every time I heard about someone walking the streets, tired and worn, I remembered how awful it felt. I knew how to help them, so I did. I made some of my closest friends that way; they made my time away from home much happier. It didn’t even matter that I couldn’t see I learned how to listen to know them, and that did make me love them. I hope you don’t mind, but I brought many of them home with me. Oh, and by the way, I gave the wind-up song bird to a woman that decided to stay for a bit longer, she’s teaching the town how to sing.”
Joseph Fielding Smith is quoted in Conference Report, October 1914 as saying:
1. D&C 4: 2, 6-7
Thoughts when asked to speak on adversity (expert, who isn’t, prepare, uh-oh what learn)
As prepare, looked up words associated
Affliction, suffering, tribulation, calamity, stress, grief, trouble, trial and sorrow
Learned only 2 paths
2. 1 Nephi 14:7 (become hardened or humble-grow closer to the savior)
3. Alma
Read something changed perspective:
Trial of faith to reveal and strengthen faith and is period of divine testing of our Confidence in Lord….(some reason, not have confidence unfathomable)
Furthermore, are provided some tools
4. Moroni
George Q Cannon
Sounds awful lot like asking for adversity, not sure good idea
Striving to become exalted being
5. Rev 7: 14
Maybe for my own good but afraid of being miserable
Christ has compassion having been through it all himself
I know Christ wants me to be happy
6. 1 Nephi 21: 13-16
D&C 136: 29-33
Joseph Smith Teachings
“Happiness is the object and design of our existence and will be the end there of, if we pursue the path that leads to it; and this path is virtue, uprightness, faithfulness, holiness, and keeping all the commandments of God.”
New words to associate
Obedience, good works, faith, trust, hope, and happiness
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Adventures of Snodgrass and Mrs Plum 1
“Oh my! Did you hear that?” Startled, Aggie bolted forward in her chair, grabbing the front of her purple silk robe. “Hey! Gracie, did you hear that? Oh for heaven’s sake, I will never understand why you have a need to read with earplugs…or why I keep talking to you when I know you can’t even hear me.”
Aggie leaned over the arm of her chair and grabbed her sister’s arm. When there was no response, Aggie began to pull more vigorously as she once again heard a rustling noise outside the window.
Without looking up, Gracie snorted “Listen, for the last time, I don’t care what the dashing hero did for the damsel…I don’t read those kinds of things, remember?”
As her whole body started to vibrate with the hand on her arm, she used her free hand to pull out her earplugs- one set from a handful of bight pink and yellow ones that the nice construction boy had given her. She then placed her had over the cold fingers that were still tightly gripping her forearm.
She blanched “What… you’re as white as a ghost! Has something happened? Can you speak? Is it a stroke? Agatha, do you know who I am? That’s it, no more sneaking sweets for you! I knew that this would…”
The sound of breaking glass seemed to be right outside of the window.
Leaping up from their chairs, the women turned to the window in alarm. The bright reading lights reflected off of the panes of clear glass.
Patting Aggie’s hand, Grace began scanning the room with determined eyes “You go call the police, I’ll find a weapon.”
“A weapon, what are you talking about? Are you going to try and bludgeon someone to death with that huge and, I must just say, horribly dull book of yours?”
Grace sighed. “For once, don’t dicker with me, okay? PLEASE go call the police.”
“Fine, you’re right. Now is not the time to debate the differences in our literary choices. However, I think you should just come with me.”
“Fine.”
Grasping hands, the two brightly robed women scurried out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen.
They each darted to opposite sides of the kitchen. As Aggie dialed the phone, Grace started opening drawers and rifling through their contents looking for something that she could bludgeon someone with. Seriously though, who was she kidding? Whoever was out there would probably just take one look at her trying to be tough and would pass out from the lack of oxygen because he (or she, really) was laughing too hard to be able to breathe. Not to mention the fact that she really didn’t have the stomach for things like that. She was 74 years old for heaven’s sake.
Aggie firmly hung up the phone,” Someone’s on their way. What do you think I should make for a snack?”
“The police are not going to care what kind of buffet you try to present them if they find you murdered in the butter, I mean, how silly. Although, we probably should go change into something more appropriate.” Grace absently patted her silvery chignon. “I really need to go brush my teeth, I’m sure my breath could kill someone.”
With her upper body engulfed in the freezer, Aggie chuckled “I’m pretty sure no one is going to try to kiss you tonight, or is there something you want to tell me? Do you think mini egg rolls would work? Or should I pull out some cookies instead? Maybe both…” She turned to find herself alone in the kitchen, and jumped when there was a knock at the door. She barely had time to make it into the front hall before her robed sister opened the door and greeted their “guests.”
“Richard, is that you? Where’s your backup? My, when did you grow that horrendous thing? That beard makes you look like a mountain man.”
“Don’t listen to her Ricky, you look very distinguished. Come on in. How’s Jack doing? Is he at your neighbor’s tonight? I’m so sorry to pull you out here. Would you like an egg roll?”
The big man smiled. He closed his eyes briefly and inhaled deeply. It always smelled the same in this house, like cinnamon bread and flowers. He pulled a small notepad out of the front pocket of his uniform, cleared his throat, and stepped into the house.
“Evening Auntie Gert, Aunt Aggie. What can I do for you? I happened to be patrolling in the neighborhood, Jack’s with a sitter, and no thanks to the egg roll.”
Aggie’s brow crinkled “Are you sure? Maybe some cookies and milk instead?”
Richard shook his head “Really, I’m okay, thanks.” He sighed as he thought about how he would never really be an adult around these two women.
“Well, if you’re sure.” Aggie continued, “We heard some rustling outside the window of the Lit room and then the sound of glass breaking. Well, actually I heard the rustling, but we both heard the glass; that is, after I got your auntie here to finally take out her earplugs…”
“Earplugs? Lit room? ” Richard gazed back and forth between the two women. It had been a long time since he had done more than say “hi” when dropping off Jack. He couldn’t even remember how long, or the reason it had been so long. I guess everything was just so busy all the time; with work, and the whole single parenting bit. Still, there really was no good excuse.
He had spent many an “Indian night” here, in the backyard. As a kid, there was nothing he looked forward to more than showing up on a Saturday afternoon to help set up the teepees and pull out all of the Indian gear. How cool was it to sneak around in feathers and moccasins with a bow and rubber arrows? The fact that these two nutty ladies were always ready in their cowboy getups, that included the coolest snakeskin boots and big cowboy hats, only made it even better. Never mind that they also always surrendered to the “Indians.” He had always been in awe of Auntie Gert’s skills with a lasso- where did she learn something like that anyway? He had been shocked the day she pulled out a long leather bullwhip and without batting an eyelash cracked the whip. He only heard the snap and then watched as a feather from his headdress floated slowly to the ground. Then, even more amazing, was when he was deemed old enough to learn how to crack that bullwhip himself. He still had the scar on his left ear from his first attempt. Of course, there was always plenty of hotdogs, baked beans, and as many s’mores as everyone could eat. Then he and his fellow Indians would dance and whoop around their captive cowboys..um..cowGIRLS, until they were sweaty and tired. Finally, all of the boys would cram themselves into the two teepees and tell scary stories till they all fell asleep. He had loved looking at the stars through the smoke hole in the top of the teepee. He never slept as well as he had in that teepee.
He never thought about his Father when he was there, it was his haven. He never had to explain the bruises to the two women. He seemed to spend more nights at their house than at his own. When his grand parents had shown up out of the blue to take him home with them, after he had come to an Indian night trying to hide a broken arm, he was pretty sure who it was that had taken the time to find his mom’s parents. They lived on the other side of the country and hadn’t known where their daughter had gone and were shocked to find out about his existence and her cancer. He took them to see his mom’s grave, where both grandparents sobbed quietly. His father had told him that they were dead. He never did find out what it was that had driven his mother away from her childhood home, but, then, it didn’t really matter, did it? He’d had a great childhood (from that point) on a ranch in Montana
Now that he really thought about it, these two women were the reason why he’d ended up as a happy (and stable) adult as opposed to being the mean drunk his father had turned into. He would never have found Melanie without them.
Richard tapped the notebook with his pen.
“Are the animals accounted for? Maybe it was a stray or something.”
Grace scoffed “What kind of old biddies do you take us for? A stray wouldn’t have been able to break the window in our shed, as that is the only glass in that particular area of our yard.”
Richard held up his hands in a soothing gesture. “I’m just getting the facts. Anyway, you are the LAST people on the earth that I would refer to as “old biddies”. Why don’t you relax while I go take a look around?”
Aggie gasped. “Are you crazy? You’re all by yourself! We’re coming with you!”
Richard sighed, “I’ll be fine. I’m a trained professional, remember? He gently grabbed the door and pulled it shut. They’d looked so…so…offended. As if being an “old biddie” was the worst insult they could think of. Grinning, he walked down the sunflower yellow stairs of the porch and realized how grateful he was that they still had Indian night. By all rights, they should be putting their feet up. They were way too old to be chasing after little boys, but, man, Jack loved it here.
Musing to himself he walked around the side of the house and stared at the shed. The aunts were certainly right; it had been the sound of the shed’s window breaking that they had heard. There was a gaping black hole where the glass should have been. As he got closer he saw…a shoe, stuck in the corner of the window…a wiggling shoe. He walked up to the window and shone his flashlight at the foot, which immediately froze. All of a sudden, the foot seemed to speak to him.
“D’ya think that maybe you could unstick my shoe?”
The voice was definitely not from a grown man. Richard could now make out that the person’s foot was wedged tightly between the corner of the bright blue window pane and a piece of glass that was still stuck in the sill. There was a piece of cloth over the rest of the window ledge. Probably to cover the broken glass, Richard surmised.
“Hold on a second, let me get your foot free.”
As the end of the flashlight knocked out the confining piece of glass, the foot quickly disappeared, followed by a crash and a grunt. Richard shone the flashlight in the window and watched as a small, skinny boy (maybe about 8 or 9 he guessed) tried to untangle himself from vividly painted yard tools that had fallen to the floor.
“Son, what do you think you’re doing?”
The boy looked up, his face streaked with dirt and grime.
“Are you gonna arrest me, or what? I just wanted to sleep under a roof. It’s s’posed to rain tonight.”
Chuckling to himself, Richard walked to the front of the shed and opened the door with a sharp pull.
“You could have just opened the door, you know.”
“I tried,” the boy gaped at the opening. “It was locked.”
“No, it just sticks sometimes. C’mon, let’s go for a ride, talk, and get you something to eat.”
Richard held out his hand and helped the boy stand up amidst the various rakes and shovels that were in a tangled heap.
As the big man opened the back door to his police jeep, two pairs of eyes stared out the front window.
“Is that a little boy? What could he have possibly been doing in the garden shed?” Aggie’s voice was hushed with surprise.
Grace pursed her lips, nodded at her sister and said “Let’s just go find out.”
Richard turned around as the two women were reaching the bottom of the steps, throwing a multitude of questions at him.
“Is that a little boy? Where…”
“What are you going to do with that child? Who…”
“I asked, where did you find him? Is he…”
“Pay attention, Richard, who does he belong to?”
As Richard couldn’t get a word in anyway, he turned and finished helping the boy buckle himself in the back seat of the Jeep. The child’s eyes weren’t full of alarm, as Richard had expected, they were more angry. No, that wasn’t right; they were more…suspicious…and defiant. The kid was looking at him like he was expecting Richard to offer him a ham sandwich and then laugh and pull it away. The boy didn’t look like he’d had a ham sandwich in a while, or a bath. Still, he met Richard’s eyes and never looked away.
Richard broke eye contact as the ladies ran out of steam.
“He was stuck in the shed…literally. I’m not sure who he is or where he’s from.”
Shutting the door gently, Richard lowered his voice.
“He looks like he’s been on his own for a while. I’m going to get him something to eat and let him clean up a bit at home. I’m sure we’ve got some extra clothes lying around. Then I’m going to see if I can figure out where he belongs. There’s nothing else you can do right now, so go to bed and I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”
Impulsively, Richard leaned forward and kissed each soft, wrinkled cheek.
Aggie placed a hand on her cheek “My, Ricky, you’re still quite the charmer!”
Grace’s lips quirked into a smile. “You’re a good man. We’ll wait to hear from you. Goodnight Richard. Tell Jack that we’re ready for him on Friday”
“Will do. Remind me to ask you what a Lit room is…” Richard climbed in his jeep and started for home. The aunts watched Jack every Friday, so that Richard could go help out at the senior home or homeless shelter that were in the next town over. He never once had any second thoughts about leaving Jack with the two women; he knew that they loved Jack as much as he did. If he were really honest, they were also a lot more fun.
Once the rear lights disappeared, the ladies turned to go back into their house.
Aggie sighed “I’m much too wound up to go to sleep now. That poor little boy.”
“I’m not sure I could sleep either.” Grace closed the front door. “Let’s go have some Chamomile tea and play Boggle. I’ll even front you 20 points.”
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