A Special Christmas Story

The Travelers
by
Margery S. Stewart

It was a hot, dusty, turbulent day in Bethlehem.  The narrow, dirty streets were crowded with camels and donkeys and tired travelers.  The women found it hard to draw water from the wells because of the press. There were bitter words spoken and many friendships had their end that day.

At the Inn it seemed more brawling, more noisy, more dusty than anywhere else.  We were filled from courtyard to gate, sleeping spaces as valuable as camels.  It was a grim, endless day for me, for I must superintend the maids and stable boys, and strive to keep a semblance of order about the place.  My husband, Jasper, strode back and forth, shouting at the servants, browbeating the more humble of the travelers and berating me for a thousand and one things that had gone amiss.

My head ached under the yellow veil and my heart ached under my green rode, and my feet ached too, in their thonged sandals.

“Dorcas,” thundered my husband for the dozenth time in an hour.  “More men come seeking shelter.  Turn them away.”

I went swiftly, the anger and impatience in his voice taking seed in my heart and sprouting swiftly into its own dark violence.  “There is no room, “ I shouted.  Without waiting for their request.  “No room at all.”

There were five of them, five dusty, bearded men.  Their leader bowed. “But we have sickness among us, surely that makes a difference.”  I looked to where they pointed and saw an old woman lying in the dust of the street on an improvised litter.  She was like my mother, little and frail, the wrinkles like a veil over her face.  I went to Jasper.

“There is an old one,”  I pleaded, a little old one and very sick.  Let us make room for her.”

Jasper turned on me in rage, clawing his black beard.  “I told you to send them away.  Sick!  There be many sick among them.  That is no concern of ours.  Send them away and ask me no more for any.”  He glared at me, his eyes cold and menacing under the eave of his brows.

I backed away.  “As you say, Jasper.”  I went back to the gate.  “There is no room!”  I shouted.  “No room at all.  Be gone, all of you.  All of you.”

My shouting voice seemed to take away all my strength with it.  I leaned against the gate, shaken and sick, wondering what would become of the little woman in the crowded town.  I was aware of someone standing beside me.  I looked up.  He was a tall man, with a long brown beard, well flecked with grey.  His eyes were brown, too.  He wore a rough robe and carried a staff.  There was a compelling quietness about him for all his dusty clothes, and his knotted hands and the dust upon his feet.  “I must have a room, “ he said.

He did not nod with his head, nor indicate in any way, but I looked past him as though drawn by the force of his concern and saw her.  My first thought was wonder, that his wife should be so young, her face tender as a maid’s with the clear color in it.  She was sitting on a small grey donkey; her blue robes trailed down her side.  She was with child, and I started, wondering that any one would travel in such condition, until I remembered that all the travelers were under a decree and came not of choice.  She smiled at me.  The smile did not plead, it trusted.

I wrung my hands.  “There isn’t room,” I said.  “All day we have had to turn men away.  There is no corner left..”

“I must have a room,” said the tall traveler.  Nor did he plead.  He stated a fact.  He looked at me.  “You are a woman, there is compassion in you for a sister in need.”

“There is no room,” I repeated heavily.  “If I should ask my husband, his anger would lash on me, and for no good reason, for one cannot  make space where there is none.”

The girl said, “I am thirsty, Joseph,”

He turned instantly to her.  “Let us go to the well, Mary.  There be many there.  You shall have fresh water and I will meet with many people. Surely we will find a place for you.”

HE picked up the reins and the small grey beast lifted his head and plodded on.  The river of the street engulfed them, and I saw them tossed among the frantic crowds.  One caught at Joseph’s sleeve, a man, who spoke volubly for a moment. Joseph shook his head.  The man turned away.

I should have gone in—there were linens to be counted, water pitchers to be filled, straw to be strewn.  Instead I leaned against the gate following the blue-robed figure in the maelstrom of the street.  I could not understand myself; it was as if an oil had been poured on the angry sore of my heart.  Once, in the temple at Jerusalem, talking to a very old and wise woman, who spent her days in prayer, a similar feeling had swept over me, so melting, so beautiful that I had wept, turning to hide my tears.  It was like this in a way.

“Why stand you thus, dreaming?” Jasper demanded behind me, his voice rasping,  “There is much to be done.  One of the maids is sick and there is none to take her place at the milking”.

“I will help,” I said, and fled from his presence which was like darkness after sunlight.   

It was quiet and cool in the stable.  It had been built out of a great cave in the hills behind the Inn.  Jasper was a careful man with all his goods, and the stable was no less clean than the Inn.  I caught my breath and stared about me.  With cattle in their stalls, and the floor swept and scrubbed, it would be a place—oh, better than the roadside or other places more dreadful, where the man Joseph might be driven to take the little Mary.

I caught up the bucket of milk and carried it to the kitchen.  I said to Miriam, the cook, “I will go for water this evening.”

She nodded her covered head. “Aye, it will be good for you to go.  The master rages like a lion on the hills.”

I caught up the pitcher and put it on my shoulder and hurried out of the Inn, into the whirling current of the street.  So many strange faces in the familiar doorways, high brown foreheads from Galilee; fierce, brown shepherd boys from the hills; gay, lovely girls laughing and calling one to another, enjoying this respite in the monotony of their days.  The crowd around the well was deeper than it had been at noonday.  The faces were troubled and very tired, the faces of those who have nowhere to go and carry in their eyes their message of homelessness.  I was well familiar with this mark.  The man, Joseph, was talking to Marya, the widow.  She had a large house.  But she shook her head abruptly and turned away from him.

So they still had no place at all.  I stepped forward. “Sir,” I said, “I have a room.”

Even in his great anxiety, his turning was quiet.

“It is the woman from the Inn,” Mary said.     

I lifted my face to her. “It is a very poor place, in the stable, but I will scrub it myself and sweep and prepare a place for you.”

Joseph touched my shoulder.  “You are kind,” he said, "But a stable---for Mary?"  No, I will look further.”

Mary leaned down from the donkey.  “There is no time, Joseph, we must take the shelter and be grateful for it.”

I said, “I will run ahead and prepare a bed for you.”  I forced my way through the crowd about the well, let down my pitcher and drew up the cold delicious water.  It was heavy on my shoulder and when I walked too fast, the water spilled over and ran along my arm.  But I hurried through the crowd back to the Inn.  I should have asked Jasper first. What if he turned on me and ordered me to send them away again?

Jasper was just finishing his supper. “You should have sent one of the maids,” he growled, “what will my friends think when my wife caries the water?”     

Jasper,” I said, giving the pitcher to Miriam who sent me a long look of warning, “There is a favor I would ask of you.”

He threw down his napkin, “Always you come for favors when my mind is reeling with all the things my guests have asked me to do. Well, what is it?”

“The stable.” I said, “It is a clean, quiet place. I thought I might give it to pilgrims for the night. At least they would have shelter.”

“No, “ shouted Jasper, and then his face grew still and speculative. “They would have to pay for it, the same as any room.”

“They would pay, Jasper.  I would see to that.”

He rose and wiped his mouth. “Then fill the stable if you like. I care not.”

All the weariness the day had fastened upon me vanished like an oxen yoke lifted by the master.  I seized brooms and brushes and hurried toward the stable.  Behind me labored Miriam with the steaming wooden buckets.

The floor was still damp when Mary and Joseph bent their heads to enter the low door, but the place had the clean smell of a fresh scrubbing.  I was making a bed of straw. “Miriam,” I said, “Will you run swiftly to the house and get me linens and a coverlet.”  I gave her the key.

“But this is the key to your good linens,” she said.

“You have the key,” I said coldly and went forward to receive the guests.

Mary looked about. “How quiet it is,’ she said, “and cool.”

Joseph looked troubled.  “But a stable,” he protested, “Mary, Mary, this is no place for thee.”

“Peace, Joseph, it shall be well with me.”

I said, “I—I found a little manger you might use. I filled it with straw.”

Mary looked to where I pointed and smiled and went slowly and heavily to the rough, makeshift crib and touched it; her fingers pressed down on the straw.  “I will put my robe under him, folded several times.  It will make a good bed.”

She straightened and was still.  Her eyes closed and the whiteness ran into her lips.  I took her arm.  “Come, sit here, on this stool, until I make your bed.”

Miriam came bustling in, her arms filled with linens.  Together we made the bed and stretched Mary upon it and covered her over with the coverlet, one never used before, one I had woven the previous winter.

“I brought candles,” Miriam whispered, and brought one out from her pocket and put it in a dish.  “Perhaps Joseph would get a flame for it?” She looked down on Mary.  “Poor, poor child, what a pity she couldn’t have had her baby at home, under her own roof, with her people near.”

“The weariness of the journey makes a double portion,” I said.

“Do go swiftly and bring her a cup of your good soup, and some of the bread you baked this afternoon.”

I said to Joseph, “Build a fire outside the stable and put water on to boil. This night will be a busy one for us all.”

And so it was, the hours grinding away, and no noise at all in the stable except the blowing of the cattle and the stamping of their feet and the unheard sound of pain that women know.  I knew.  I had borne two and lost them both---I knew well the wracking of the flesh when they came and the tearing of the soul when they were taken away.  But this I had not known before, that such a hush should come, that the stillness would grow and deepen until we talked seldom, and then only in whispers.  The great hush that was in us all and in the humble room deepened and deepened and grew in intensity, until Miriam and I could only speak with our eyes as we bent above Mary.

We smoothed her forehead in the silence and we held her hands.  Then suddenly in the night, in the hush and the quietness, the child was born.

I held him and he cried, the new child cry, that is like no other in all the world.  My arms circled him about, hungrily, loving his smallness and perfectness.  My eyes marveled over him, seeing in him the seed from which the tree of the man would grow.  Seeing in him the buds of his hearing and sight that would open and unfurl and see and hear, knowing that in him beat the perfect and untouched heart that would grow and know suffering and happiness and grief and be scarred with many scars before it would be still.

“This is not a usual child,” I said to Miriam, as I bathed him.

“They say that always,” said Miriam soberly, “and yet I say with you, this is not a usual child.”

One of the maids came running with the summons from Jasper that he wanted me at once.

I rose and brought the child to Mary.  She opened her eyes when she felt me standing beside her and smiled and held out her hands for the baby.

“It is a son,” I said.

“I know.”

Running along the pathway to the Inn, I marveled that she had said that. How could she have known?  Jasper was in the dining room with four great men of Jerusalem.  He wanted food for himself and his guests.

“Where is Miriam?” he thundered.

“Have you forgotten how well I can cook?” I answered.  “What is it you would like?”

Jasper grunted.  I hastened to prepare a meal and set it before them. They were learned men.  Their conversation delighted my ears as I hurried back and forth from kitchen to dining room.  They were discussing the coming of Emmanuel.  How wonderful it sounded, full of marvel.  This great king who would ride out of the clouds in his golden chariot and disperse the Romans right and left.  Who would deliver the people from their cruel captors.  Then it would be a great thing to be a Jew.  Then we would be conquerors with Him.  Everyone would triumph who believed and waited for his coming in all His majesty and power. Jasper’s voice rolled out thunderously, describing the downfall of all his enemies under the power of the Great One, the Deliverer.

“You have great faith, Jasper,” said one…Almost I hear the thunder of his horses.”

“Aye,” nodded another, “and see the glitter of his golden robes and the blinding riches of his armies.”

They were still talking when I tiptoed away.  But even with my hurrying, two hours had been consumed.

In the stable, all was still – Miriam slept.  I woke her and sent her off to bed.  Joseph sat beside Mary’s bed, not speaking, only looking down on her gently and once reaching out to draw the covers more closely about her.  The baby slept sweetly, small, mysteriously as all babies are mysterious, beautiful as new babies are, with their small curled fists and closed eyes and tender skin.

Suddenly there was a commotion at the door. Joseph rose up instantly, and I went behind him to the door.  We peered out in the darkness and saw the torched coming along the path from the Inn. Joseph stepped out. The men surged toward him.

“Whom do you seek?” Joseph asked quietly.

The leader stepped forward, a great rugged man.  The fire Joseph had kindled at the door of the stable lighted in flame his keen dark eyes, his stubborn chin, his firm mouth.

“We seek a child born this night in Bethlehem.”

Joseph said, after a moment, “There is here a child born this night.”

The four men behind the leader fell back. They murmured one to another and tears gleamed on their harsh, bearded cheeks.

The leader spoke gruffly, tears thickening his voice.  “This night we were watching our sheep on the hills East of Bethlehem…suddenly…suddenly and angel of the Lord appeared unto us.”

“We were sore afraid.” Murmured the shepherds, crowding behind him, “sore afraid.”

The leader nodded. “It is like a sword in the bosom to behold an angel of God.  But he said unto us, to fear not, but to be of great joy, for unto us was born, this night in the City of David, a Savior, who is…” he paused then said slowly, “Christ….the Lord.”

“Oh, no,” I fell back from his words.  I looked from the ragged men in the darkness to the baby in the manger, his small face lighted by the candle burning beside him.  “But the Great One cometh in clouds of glory, in a golden chariot.” I whispered.

The grizzled leader nodded. “So thought we all, until this night. Christ…the Lord, in a manger.  But there was not only this angel, but the skies were filled with a multitude…”  His voice deepened with wonder and tears crowded him, “A multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and singing ‘Peace on Earth, good will toward men’.”

“Peace on earth,” I whispered…”Oh, not the sword that Jasper had thundered would smite his enemies…not the tooth for tooth and the eye for eye…not the chariot of war…but peace…peace…goodwill to men.”

I trembled there in the cave. I trembled and was afraid, with some of the shepherds’ own fear transmitting itself to me. Yet, something in me lifted wings. Love was in the words, and a marvelous comforting…”Peace on earth…good will toward men.”  

Joseph stepped aside.  “The child lieth in the manger.

One of the men pushed forward.  “That spoke the angel, also, ‘And this shall be a sign unto you, that you will find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger’.”

They went at last and the child wailed. In his crying there was abrupt return to normal, everyday things.  I lifted him from the manger and brought him to Mary.  “He is strange in this world,” I said.

She took him in her arms.  I went back to the Inn to see if I could capture a few hours of sleep before dawn.  The town was dark and silent around me, the hills were met at the skyline by the stars that swarmed like bees over the night.  A normal night….a quiet night, no angel song wafting down the wind.

Jasper woke when I crept into the room.  “Where have you been, Dorcas?”

In the stable with a young mother who had her first child,” I told him. “A beautiful boy.”

Jasper grunted.  “There be strange tales that go about the streets. They say shepherds came down from the hills seeking a first born son, saying he was the Savior….Christ, the Lord.”

I caught my breath.  “They came to the stable,” I whispered.  “They worshipped the child.”

Jasper sat up. “Preposterous,” he exploded.  “Blasphemy.  Have no more to do with them.  Do you hear?”

“But, Jasper, I was there.  There was a glory.  I felt it.  Why should it be so strange?  Moses was fished from the river.  Samuel, the Prophet, was a little lad when he herd the voice of God…humble ones.”

Jasper pounded his fist in his palm.  “But I know, Dorcas, I know Emmanuel shall not come in humble fashion, but in a chariot of gold.  He shall ride out of the skies and deliver us from our enemies.”

“Yes, Jasper….but this…”

“You doubt me, weak woman, small woman!  You doubt me?”

“No, Jasper, only….only….”

I lay on my pallet.  The night swept back and forth in my mind, all the small details.  The shepherds’ rough robes and the broken sandal on the leader’s foot.  Mary’s face, pale with pain in the candlelight.  The hush before the birth.  The angel song, “Peace on earth, goodwill toward men…not sung to the priests….but to the rough shepherds on the Judean hill. So strange, all of it…like a dream.  Against all this beauty strode the booted feet of Jasper, his fierce beard moving with his words, “Chariot of War…King over all our enemies…An eye for an eye…A tooth for a Tooth.”  I turned on my pillow and prayed for I was only a woman, childless and lonely, not greatly loved of my husband.

Still sleep would not come.  I rose at last and put on my robes and went softly out into the dawning.  The world was very still. In the courtyard, the shepherds knelt in prayer, before they hastened back to the hills. Their lips moved silently in their brown, stern faces.

I went along the path to the stables.  Inside, all was dark, the candle long since burned to the dish.  Joseph slept on a pallet by the door, Mary slept in the bed we had made for her, one arm thrown across her face.  The baby slept, too, the light and lovely sleep of new little ones.

I looked at him for a long time, and then, I too dropped to my knees, for within me, not from without, came the singing knowledge, the beauty and the promise.

I touched the forehead, small and fair beneath my work-coarsened fingers. “Sleep well, little one…sleep well…long lietth the road before thee.”                                                                                                                        




                                             

Wow

I just discovered the app for my phone. Maybe I'll blog more often now! There's a lot that's gone on. We have another grandson due in November. Excited for that! My siblings and I and our spouses, celebrated our 50th Anniversary in the Church on October 17th by doing a session in the Ogden Temple. What a great experience that was. Anyway, I am glad I found this app. 

Baptism

For Lani

Today you will be baptised

It is our Lord's command

With him you'll make a covenant

And take upon you His Name.

Now when you are baptised,

You are following in His steps,

Keep doing this each day,

And you will be so blessed. 

To be baptised in His Church

Live righteously each day

Because the Savior loves you

It is His chosen way. 

As you take this step today

To be clean and New again,

You are His special child,

He is your one true friend. 

Daddy's Arms

I remember when I was little,
I was so very weak,
From a defect of my heart,
That I would often seek,
The arms of my daddy,
To carry me around.
He made my young life easier,
When my strength couldn't be found.

When the doctors finally fixed me,
In days so long ago,
The doctors needed to see
That all was ready to go.
So first my mother came in,
And all that I could say,
Was I want that chair to sit in,
As I just sobbed away.

My daddy was the key
He looked me in the eye,
Then said, "Do you still love me?"
"Yes, Daddy!", was my reply.
He heard the doctors comment,
"Thank God, she'll be okay!"
And he had a scary moment.

He went out in the hallway,
And suddenly realized,
He had been playing God,
I really could have died.
He leaned against the wall,
As that thought sunk in,
That he had made the call
My chances had been slim.

Today I miss my Daddy's arms
And wish he was still here,
But he's beyond all harm,
With those that I love there.
Now that I'm a parent I see,
That I can be the arms,
As children come to me.

Poetry

Writing a poem isn't always easy,
You need to pick a style,
There are so many forms,
It doesn't always rhyme.

There Haiku which are so very short,
But paint a picture nonetheless,
Of things the writer knows.

The next is called a couplet,
And always has two lines,
Unlike the form called triplet,
And even one named quatrain.

Memorial Day

Each Memorial Day we think of all those who lost their lives
In fighting for our freedoms, for all our forefathers strived.

We also need to think on this bright beautiful morn
Of the love our Savior has for all who have been born.

He came to earth to show the way that we should all live
In loving everyone we meet no matter who he is.

For that is all He asks that we may be reborn
And live with Him again on a future beautiful morn.

When I was a little girl
I remember my mother as tall
I wanted to fit in her shoes
I was so very small

But as I was growing up
I suddenly found I'd grown
I could finally wear her shoes
Where had the passing years flown

Then one day it happened
I passed my mother up
Her shoes no longer fit my feet
Her clothes were now too short

Then years went quickly by
And I became the smaller one
Who's children grew so tall
And now they have all flown

Life is one eternal round
The years go quickly by
Show your mother how much you care
By how you can now fly.

Clay

Jesus Christ is our brother

He died upon the cross

His life was one of sacrifice

Our souls will not be lost

His love for us is great

Our souls are His to mold

We're as clay in His hands

To bring us back to our home

As parents we must be

Like our Elder Brother is

Molding the lives of our children

Because they are always His

So children, love your parents

Honor them each day

They act as the Savior's hands

And mold our lives like clay. 

Sacrifice is a part of life
We daily show our love
To our Heavenly Father
By how we daily live
It's part of His great plan

Our parents always sacrifice
They give us everything
We feel their love forever
We know that it is real
They are our eternal spring

Day 30. Questad Poem

Dogs
Members of our family
There must be a million different breeds
One likes to sit under my feet like a footrest
Ruff!
They will listen to your problems no matter what
Another chases her tail like a spinning top
They all happily welcome me home each day with tails madly wagging!

Day 29  Hyperbole Poem

When you first look in your baby's eyes
You'll never be the same
Your life will be a roller coaster
Nothing will ever be tame.

They capture your heart forever more
And wrap you with their finger
You'll never ever be free again
You'll always want to linger.

Day 28. What If...I Might

What if I could play an instrument?
I might accompany myself

What if I was a better singer?
I could make a difference in song.

What if I could write a song?
I would write a song to help someone.

Would you listen to my song?

Day 27. Lantern Poem

Love
Always
Forever
Heaven's reward
Trust

Day 26. Limericks Poem

There once was a couple so fair
They thought they were walking on air
Then one bright sunny day
They were shown the right way
Now they are a happier pair

Day 25. Arbor Day Poem

I remember the day
I got my first glasses
I went outside and
Looking up at a tree,
I exclaimed, "It has leaves!"

Ever since that day
I am one of the masses
Who enjoys the sights and
Sounds of all kinds of trees
And I always think, "It has leaves!

Day 24. Poem in my Pocket

I have a poem in my pocket
It isn't on a locket
I've saved it on my cell phone
So I won't leave it home

Writing poems every day
Is helping me to say
I'm a poet and now I know it
This is a happy fit

Day 23. Clearview Poem

Justin and Shadea said they were done,
But the rabbit is dead and sadly gone,
We'll have our ninth little new one
Sometime in the fall, oh, what fun!!

Day 22. Nature Color Poem

.

Yellow sunshine in the morning
Now why do I feel like yawning!

Red roses smell so nice
Glad we're done with the ice.

Green grass all over the place
I'm thankful for Heaven's grac

Day 21    ONOMATOPOEIA Poem

Giggle, Gnash, Gnaw
Snarle, splish,splash
Moo, Meow, mumble
The are the sounds as our old car rumbled
Down the old bumpy highway, when I was a child.
We called her Bunky Junky as we tumbled
Down mile after mile after mile! 

Day 20.  Gratitude or Prayer Poem

Because of Him I think
Of all the blessings He gives
While of the water I drink
And eat the bread, He lives!

He atoned for all my sins,
And died upon the cross
So I can live again
My soul will not be lost.

Day 19  Free Verse Poem

As I contemplate the meaning of Easter
I consider all that occurred long ago
How our brother chose to save us
Because of His great love.

I know I can be with Him again
But I must do my part
By living my life as he did
My reward is Eternal life.

My family is eternal
And together we will be
Forever in His loving arms,
This is my greatest desire.

Day 18. Color Poem

#1
Yellow is the color of sunlight
Yellow is joy
Yellow is a daffodil
Yellow is a soft duckling
Yellow tastes like lemonade
Yellow smelss like fresh sun-dried laundry blowing in the breeze
Yellow sounds like peeping chicks
Yellow feels like a warm hug
Yellow looks like bright buttercups
Yellow makes me happy
Yellow is warmth after the winter.

#2
Yellow is sun, sunlight, and ducks
Yellow is kids playing in the sun
Yellow is buttercups, daisies, and lemons
Yellow is warm sunshine
Yellow is happy quacking ducks
Yellow is butter, honey, and lemonade
Yellow is being out in nature on a warm sunny day
Yellow is a field of bright flowers

Day 17. Tanka Poem

Ten years ago our
son got married to his love
and now they are four
Happiness ensues each day
they come to visit our home.

Day 16. If I Were and If You Were Poems

If I were a train 
and you were a track
You'd keep me in line
With nary a crack

If you were a jailer
and I was an inmate
You'd unlock the prison
and let me escape

Day 15  Holiday Poem

Easter 
Lilies
Flowers all around me
Easter choirs singing
Leg of Lamb or ham are yummy!
Soft flower petals
Easter

Day 14. 5Ws Poem

My daughter-in-law, Melinda
Is having a birthday today
She lives way out in Grantsville
So we will celebrate another day
Then we can show her how much we love her!

Day 13  Rhyming ABAB Scheme

Sunday is such a special day
I love the day so much
It is my eternal life's doorway
That provides me with Heaven's touch.

Day 12. Haiku Poem

Losing a child
The sun comes up anyway
Then your heart still beats

Day 11. Nonet Poem

There are days when the news scares you so
You want to go into a hole
But there is beauty around
Each day that you can see
So keep your head up
Look to the stars
Let fear go
Be strong
Love

Day 10  Spring Senses Poem


Spring looks like colors bursting all around me
Spring sounds like children laughing and playing outside
Spring feels like warm hugs from the sunshine
Spring smells like newly mown grass clippings
Spring tastes like all the flavors in the world

Day 9. Grammar Poem

Books I read
Paper and digital
Keep me reading happily
Like living another life
If only I could do it al

Day 8. I Am Poem

I am happy and loving
I wonder if I'll touch many lives
I hear angels singing
I see them on the wing
I want to be the best I can
I am happy and loving 

I pretend to be confidant
I feel that I really am
I touch the stars in the heavens
I worry I haven't done enough
I am happy and loving

I understand that God lives
I say I love my Lord
I dream I am a leader
I try to help each person
I hope I can do my best
I am happy and loving.

Day 7  Cinquain Poem. Pattern two

Twins
Double trouble
Always having fun
Twice as much love
Doubles

Day 6. Acrostic Poem

Early morning
A new beginning
Spring returns
To remind us of
Every soul's
Renewal.

Day 5  Cinquain Poem

Quilting
Squares of fabric
Careful piecing swatches
It is good to be creative
Sewing

Day 4 Quatrain Poem

I recently wrote this poem, loosely based on Dr Seuss's style to honor one of my co-workers who was retiring. 

Oh the things we could say
As Sylvia leaves us today
Make us sad make us crabby
Make us shout "No Way"!

But she's going to leave
There's no trick up her sleeve
So we have to say "Par-Tay"!
And that you will need to believe!

Day 3  Triplet Poem

Seeing fun movies is our way
Of having a really good day
And that is certainly okay!

Day 2. Couplet Poem

My Grandchildren make me smile
And that makes me smile a while!

Day one of National Poetry Month 2014

Pensee

I haven't written anything for a while, but something happened that I need to share.

About 2 years ago, Wendy Ledbetter, a friend, found a Book of Mormon in her home that Hanna had shared her testimony in. She gave it to me at Church and said she felt we should have it. It was something the Young Women had done sometime before Hanna's death while she was in Young Women's. I gratefully, and tearfully I might add,  took the gift home and showed Peter. I knew it needed to do more than just sit on a shelf.

Sometime after this, I found out our dear friend Mary Lou's son was going to be serving his mission in the Salt Lake Mission! I knew what I needed to do through the still small voice. I got Elder McDonald's address from his parents and packaged up the Book of Mormon, with our added testimonies of the Eternal nature of families and sent it to Elder Christian McDonald to give to an investigator.

Fast forward 18 months. We got a letter from Elder McDonald the other day,that touched our hearts. I want to share it with anyone who cares to read. It is very special and heart warming.

We are so grateful to this wonderful missionary for sharing this with us.

Wow Stories.

There are amazing stories of wonderful things people do in the news  and on the internet. This story takes my breath away! http://www.ldsmag.com/article/1/11277

Day 13- Tanka Poem

Our life is a dream
We all have a connection
Love is forever
Some went before us in life
And those who are yet to come.

Day 12-LImerick

There once was a dog from the city,
who's friend was a sweet little kitty,
They went shopping all day
in the malls and would stray,
to the stores that were happy and pretty.

Day 9-Instant Poetry

Vicki
Happy, Spiritual, Friendly, Helpful
Sibling of Dolly,David, Valerie, and Jamie
Lover of reading, writing, peaceful times
Who fears not getting things done
Who needs lots of love and attention!
Who gives Everything I can to the things I do!
Who would like to see my children all be happy
Resident of The World
Firth

Day 5-If I were poems

If I were a speckled little frog,
I'd be happy living in my bog and I'd hop around all day and
eat fies in the way.
I'd be a happy full speckled little frog.

Day 4- If you were poems

I am not in love with these I came up with, but I tried.

If you were a credit card,
and I was a wallet,
We'd buy us a shipyard,
and add tons to our debt!


If you were a camera,
and I was the film,
We'd take a trip to Panama,
and photograph a hill.

Day 3-Fractured fairy tale

Original:

Jack and Jill
Went up the hill
To fetch a pail of water.
Jack fell down and broke his crown
And Jill came tumbling after.

The rest of the story:
Jack and Jill just got the bill
For Jack's trip to the doctor.
Jack said "Ack!" I broke my back
And we're in debt to the rafters!

Day 2-Poetweet

When I think of all the books I have read

and all the ones in my to-be-read pile, I smile!

I love books so much, so what can I do?

I can go to work in a Library near home,

so now I can smile all day!

Day 2-Poetweet

National Poetry Month again!

Here's a couplet for the 1st of April.

What you said about making it rhyme,
has got me in a tizzy at this time.

Thoughts on a tree for next year.

It's been a while, but I had something happen yesterday, that I feel I need to share.
Even though I am working on the finishing touches for the tree for Festival of Trees this year, I have had in my mind that I need to find out what I want to do for next years tree, on the 10th anniversary of Hanna's death. I had also prayed about a little. Well, yesterday a friend and I went to Hancock fabrics because she needed to get some things for the Empress Theatre for costuming Scrooge and she doesn't have a car. When we walked in, who did I see but one of Hanna's former teachers at Hartvigsen, the special school for Granite District. She was there with some of the Special Needs kids for a class. I said Hi, and we talked for a minute, but she was right there at the pattern desk, so we kept talking a little more. Anyway, I decided to look through the pattern books and before I knew it, Boom, I was looking at a cute Fairy House that can be made, and I knew that's what I want to do for the tree. I had kind of been considering it, because another friend had made some beaded fairies to use sometime on a tree, but this drove it home! Then there were costumes for fairies that would be a wonderful addition to the tree. I felt Hanna's approval through the fact that her teacher was there! This was from Heavenly Father and I knew it!

My feelings

I was asked by my niece, Aileen, to write how certain things in our marriage have been crucibles that we have encountered and how we have dealt with them. This was for a class she is taking. This is my response.

"I can't do this without going into some detail, so I hope that is okay. If you need anything more, let me know. In short, this crucible lasted for almost 19 years, the life of Hanna, but we still use this experience to help others.

Our lives were forever changed when our daughter, Hanna, was born 10 weeks prematurely on Nov. 21, 1983. Little did we know what we would go through. We had hopes at first that all would be well with her and we kind of wore blinders for the first little while. She was the 6th of our children, and the first to have any problems surrounding her birth. She spent 7 weeks in the NBICU at LDS Hospital in Salt Lake City, UT and had several set-backs, but after getting a book on premature infants, we realized she didn't suffer some of the ill effects of prematurity.

As time went on, we ended up in the hospital several times for various health problems, including failure to thrive. We found she needed help at this point and got her started in early intervention because she wasn't progressing and was labeled as developmentally delayed. She continues to make some progress in some areas, but socially, she was not doing well. We had her diagnosed as Autistic when she was about 10yrs. old.

Her whole life was a trial for our entire family, because of her Autism and other health issues. We worked together, relied on our faith and just went day to day. She finally graduated from high school and was so proud and you could see it in her face.

Years before, one of her health problems was found in an ultrasound when she was 8 yrs old. She had surgery at the time to drain a syrenx in her spinal cord and then later she had to have her neck fused. In July, she had an MRI as a follow-up, and the Dr was concerned the syrenx had returned, so he wanted to get another MRI in October. ON Oct. 9, 2002, I took her in to Primary Children's Medical Center and because they had to put her under for the MRI, we had done as they requested, not letting her eat or drink for so many hours. Well, while she was under, she vomited and aspirated. They worked on her for 30 min. but because of her weak lungs and heart, she died. We were rocked when we were told of what happened.

My husband was out of town, at his parents in Santa Monica, CA and I had to call him and tell him what had happened. I wasn't able to speak, and so the doctor told him. He told me he would be home as quickly as he could. He was on the road in 20 minutes, and says he doesn't really remember much of the drive. We immediately gathered our children around us and other family members to pray together and support each other. Neighbors came to offer what ever assistance they could and our Ward of the Church rallied around us. We felt great comfort in knowing how loved she was in the community and among her friends from school and church. Since that time, we have gotten involved in various causes to help heal our hearts. We have done a tree in her honor for the Festival of Trees here in Salt Lake. We have participated in online groups to help others dealing with a child's loss, especially ones with congenital heart issues. One thing I found very helpful has been to just talk to others about Hanna and our experiences we had in her life. The hurt is still there, but we are strong in our conviction that we will see her again, and that her body is whole now, with none of the problems she endured in life. We have many "Hanna" moments between my husband and I and with our children. She is not forgotten. Our Grandchildren hear us speak of her, and know we miss her. Life goes on, but we are all changed for having her in our lives."

New Magna Library Grand Opening!

WOW! We finally opened the new Magna Library on May 21st, and it was amazing! I am so glad to finally be in the wonderful new building. I know we are all glad to finally be here! I am sure, Trish, our manager is relieved! It's been a long time coming! The amount of people who came through was staggering and it was a huge hit with everyone! All I can say, is Whew!

On Writing Poetry

This month of poetry has been,
a most remarkable thing.
I've found I have the skill
to express my thoughts at will.

I am more than you see outside
I have feelings deep inside
Our lives have a purpose, it is true.
We must help others see it too.

So make a difference to a friend in need
You'll be happy in the end indeed
You'll see our Savior and He will say,
"Well done, enter my house today!"

The Five Ws Poem

Vicki

came home early,

from work at the old Library,

at 2pm this afternoon,

because there really wasn't much else to do to get things ready for the movers on Monday!.

Clerihew Poem

I'm told my son Cory likes to play
Although he has to work all day
When he gets a chance
He puts on his basketball pants!

Lantern Poem

Light
Shining
Sure Brilliance
Fills up our souls
Christ

If you were Poem

If You Were

If you were a train
and I was a track
I'd guide you home to Father
and help you to get back.

Quinzain Poem

Royal wedding in London.
Why are we obsessed,
makes no sense?

My sweet Hanna

MY sweet Hanna

Our daughter, Hanna was born prematurely 27 years ago, but left this life 8 years ago.
She was diagnosed with Autism at the age of 8.
I am grateful for the years she was in our lives, because I learned many things..
I learned to be patient. I learned to be forgiving. I learned to be tolerant.
I learned to love unconditionally as she did.
She was a wonder, in that she never understood or cared why no one called her, when she said , “Call me!”
It didn’t matter to her, just that the person was in her life was all that mattered.
She loved babies, children, animals, and nature.
Her life was a gift to us, that we continue to marvel on.

Rebirth and Renewal

Rebirth and Renewal

I like to think of butterflies
They represent to me
a rebirth and renewal
of the earth every Spring

Our Savior is all loving
He came to earth, I know
To die for sins of everyone
And show us how to grow

The earth is so remarkable
it shows us how we should live
To have our sins forgiven
and return to God to live

Rictameter Poem

To be
And so we ask
The question of mankind.
To those without the truth
It's an unfathomable question.
Those who have the vigor of youth
Have so much piece of mind
No need to ask
To be

Rhyming Poetry

Go to Other Places

I love to read all kinds of books
They take me other places.
To worlds so strange, they have red brooks
and lots of different faces.

Some use the force to guide their lives
And guard those who are helpless.
These Jedi are the kind who thrive
on helping save a princess.

Then others have magicians small
who want to learn their lessons
And fight the evil wizards pall
as others have for eons.

So join me in imagining
These worlds of writers making
And read some books of fantasy
It always is breathtaking!

A Poem of Alliteration

Meandering Mormon maids
must marry men of might,
It matters most momentously
In the middle of the night.

Millennial marriages may be memorable
in the misty morning light,
When the mockingbirds make music
for the missionary's wife.

Now many mornings later
mid the melodies delight,
Mormon mommies make an entrance
on the Merry-Go-Round of life!

Holiday Poem

Easter
Cute dresses on girls and suits on boys, looking ever so dapper
The smells of Roast Leg of Lamb cooking and fresh flowers so lovely
Children laughing while Easter Egg hunting and tuneful choirs singing songs of redemption
Hard boiled eggs tasting so tangy and fresh when made into egg salad
Our spirits are touched with blessings unmeasured and love for our Savior fills our hearts
Easter

Nature Personified Poem

Here's another poem I've written. It's a nature personified poem.

Snow
Snow comes in quietly like a cat stalking a shadow
It covers the earth in a blanket of white
As it floats down from the mountainous clouds
Hiding everything in it's path.
Then leaves just as quietly as it slips down the drains and into the grass.

My thoughts on Moving the Library

On Closing the Magna Library

The Magna library will close today,
It seems our old building has had it's day.

It's time to move the books away,
To our new building, if that's okay.

So now we take the time to say,
Goodbye to things,our thoughts are gray.

It's sad to move, but it's underway,
We have a new building, Hip hip, hooray!

Another

What If


What if my life had been perfect ?
I might never have found my husband
What if we had only had two children?
I could only have two grandchildren
What if we had stayed in California?
I would not have the close family and friends I do now
Would I want anything different?

Some other poetry I've been writing this month...

Day 1 ~ Couplet

I guess I should begin right here,
to write a couplet true and dear.

I want my rhyme to make some sense,
so no one else will think I'm dense.

It's kind of fun when you begin,
and now i need to make an end!


Day 2 ~ Triplet

Now I know, the trick is so clear,
let's see what I can say right here,
it's fun to try and not to fear.

Hey, this is neat and fun to do,
I guess the words are sometimes true,
now on we go to three from two.


Day 3 ~ Acrostic Poem for April

April brings to mind so many things of God
Priesthood keys to bless so many lives
Real love on earth is sealed eternally
In temples here on earth
Love from our Father up above

Day 4 ~ Haiku

Autistic child
Disability of one
Lives turned upside down

Day 5 ~ Onomatopoeia Poem

Our cat makes a sound somewhat like a peep,

whenever she watches birds in a tree.

Don't ask me why,

she must want to fly.


Day 6 ~ "I Am" Poem

I am a mother in Zion and a singer
I wonder if I can get all my children back to Heavenly Father
I hear music all the time around me
I see me embracing my daughter in the eternities
I want to be reunited with all my lost loved ones
I am a mother in Zion and a singer


I pretend I know what I'm doing
I feel that by doing so, I will know what I'm doing
I touch the lives of all those I know
I worry that I'm not enough
I cry when one of my children is in pain
I am a mother in Zion and a singer


I understand why we need the Atonement
I say the Church is true
I dream that my courage will be rewarded
I try to teach others about the Gospel
I hope that others will know I love them
I am a mother in Zion and a singer


Day 7 ~ "If I Were" Poem

If I were a willing servant of the Lord,
I'd tell others of the Gospel and
I'd let them know the truth and,
I'd want them to be happy.
I'd be a faithful missionary

Day 8 ~ Cinquain Poem (Pattern 1)

Heaven
A place you go
where our dear Father lives
He lovingly waits for us there
Our home

Day 9 ~ Cinquain Poem (Pattern 2)

Babies
Cute, cuddly
Hold them tight
Our hearts held captive
Sweetness


Day 10 ~ Spring Senses Poem

Spring looks like a robin's red breast
Spring sounds like birds twittering in the trees
Spring feels like a warm sweet caress
Spring smells like a honey suckle breeze
Spring tastes like ripe strawberries on your breath

That's what Spring is to me!
(I had to add the last line to finish the rhyme :o)


Day 11 ~ Limerick

There once was a girl from the city
Who was really so very pretty
She went to audition
she used such good diction
And now she is known as Miss Kitty

I wrote 2, here's the second:

American Idol's where it's at
You have to be a talented Jack
The Jills have to sing high
The judges have to sigh
Or else you could end up with the Sack


Day 12 ~ Tanka Poem

I am the older
my twin sister is taller
she's a mother of seven
two boys and five girls so fair
I too have seven I love


Day 13 ~ Grammar Poem

My eternal companion
Creative and romantic
Steady and helpful to those around
Like the rock his name stands for
If only we stay the course, eternity's ours


Day 14 was Poem in your pocket Day.

We've been challenged each day
to find something to say
in the style suggested by Stephanie

Here's one that's just fun
and I won't have to run
If I rhyme it now with an epiphany

I will post this right here
and I want to make clear
that now I might not make it in infamy

For rhyming a word
that is sort of absurd
Can be baffling and a total mystery!

Poem

I wrote a poem today that I am still not sure is done, but I need to post it. Then I can print it out if needed...
My life

I once heard a quote that has come to mean much,
I have made it my daily motto.
"It is good to have an end to journey toward,
but it is the journey that matters in the end. "
I truly believe in this saying,
and I've learned I can help others see.
Our lives have a purpose and we make it so,
by being the best we can be.
If I don't think my life is worth living,
then that's what I'll find in the end.
It's ultimately what I believe,
that makes the difference for me.
So I will go on each day of my life,
Helping others to learn this great truth.
And that will create value and love for me,
Each day from the time of my youth.
So, enjoy your life each day that you live,
just by living your life with a goal,
to make a difference each day
to those who have lost their way
Then you can go home knowing your worth.

Vicki

New Library!

We are only weeks away from moving the Magna Library to our new building> I am so excited, but I also discovered that it has been the source of sleepness nights. I guess I have been a little anxious about this move, almost like starting a new job! Anyway, I realized that I hadn't prayed about my feelings until something someone said in a testimony last Sunday. Well, I have been praying since then, and it has helped! I am thankful for reminders that we need to pray about everything in our lives. I am grateful for all that I have, and I know who I need to thank for everything! I love the Lord!

Karey White: EVENTS

Karey White: EVENTS: "Book Signing at Murray Costco February 26, 2011, 11:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. 5201 South Intermountain Drive, Murray, UT"

RELIEF SOCIETY (Tribute song)

Deep thoughts

I got this quote today , and it really is deep and I want to save it for contemplation.

“…The Lord indicates a…serious problem with harboring an unforgiving heart: ‘Wherefore, I say unto you, that ye ought to forgive one another; for he that forgiveth not his brother his trespasses standeth condemned before the Lord; for there remaineth in him the greater sin.’ (D&C 64:9.) Is the Lord truly saying that refusing to forgive another is a greater sin than the offense committed against us? Yes. Truman Madsen suggests one reason for this: In refusing to forgive another, we, in effect, attempt to deny the blessings of the Atonement to that person: ‘You may have reached the point of desperation in your own life when you have prayed and yearned for forgiveness of your own guilt and sin. But then you turn and say, ‘But not him! Don’t you forgive him! I’m not going to, he doesn’t deserve it.’ You will then close the channel of love and compassion and revelation from the Lord. You seek to nullify His atonement for others. It is like triple plate steel against water.’

[Truman G. Madsen, “On Forgiveness,” address delivered at the annual LDS Social Services Seminar, 3 Aug. 1978, Logan, Utah]” Roderick J. Linton, Ensign, Apr. 1993, 15

Trying to win a book!

I want to win a book, so I'm posting this link! Go to it and see what you think!
http://donaldjcarey.com/2011/01/its-contest-time-two-for-one-special.html

This story kind of touched my heart. Please remember it when I get old!

CHEYENNE

By Catherine Moore



'Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!' My father yelled at me. 'Can't you do anything right?' Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A

lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle..



'I saw the car, Dad. Please don't yell at me when I'm driving.' My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt.



Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts. Dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder

Seemed to echo my inner turmoil.



What could I do about him?



Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon . He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often.. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess. The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him a bout his advancing age, or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man.



Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived...



But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone.. He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders.

Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether.. Dad was left alone.



My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust. Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody.. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue. Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad's troubled mind. But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it.



The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics

Listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered. In vain. Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenl y exclaimed, 'I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article.' I listened as she read.. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog.



I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons, too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the

Last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world's aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed. Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hipbones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly.



I pointed to the dog. 'Can you tell me about him?' The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement.



'He's a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him, that was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow.' He gestured helplessly.



As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. 'You mean you're going to kill him?'



'Ma'am,' he said gently, 'that's our policy. We don't have room for every unclaimed

Dog.'



I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision.. 'I'll take him,' I said.



I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch.



'Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!' I said excitedly..



Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. 'If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want it' Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house.



Anger rose inside me.. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples..



'You'd better get used to him, Dad. He's staying!' Dad ignored me. 'Did you hear me, Dad?' I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate.



We stood

glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw..



Dad's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal..



It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointerCheyenne . Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet.



Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad's bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne 's cold nose

burrowing through our bed covers... He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.



Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of mind.



The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life.. And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. 'Be not forgetful to entertain strangers.'



'I've often thanked God for sending that angel,' he said.



For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article.



Cheyenne 's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter. . .his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father. . and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all. Life is too short for drama & petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and forgive quickly. Live While You Are Alive. Tell the people you love that you love them, at every opportunity. Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a second time.



And if you don't send this to at least 4 people - who cares? But do share this with someone. Lost time can never be found.

Well, I started Curves a week ago. I had kind of plateaued with the Wii Fit, so I'm going to try to do better. I really want to get it better shape! I hope you are all well!

I am asking for all of your help! Please keep your eyes open for something you think would work for our tree. The theme this year is A Patchwork Christmas and our colors will be red and green. Golds will be fine as well. My first thought is to have some kind of patchwork hearts as ornaments on the tree. We also need items for around the tree and tree skirt. Does anyone know of a pre-lit 7 1/2 tree that can be donated. We can buy one if necessary, but a donated one would leave us more to spend on the tree. Please, if you see something that you think will work, send me a picture on my cell phone, 801-512-5838. Also, if you want to help decorate, that is on November 29th at the SouthTowne Center in Sandy. Let me know if you have any questions.

Thanks