The Parable of the Pot-Bound Plant

          If you have known me for longer than about a half an hour, you probably know that I am not a fan of big life changes, particularly ones I didn’t choose.  Eventually I adapt and learn to love and thrive in the new circumstances, but it is a hard process and leaving the familiar is very difficult.  Moving has always been that way for me.  We moved five times as a family and I was devastated every time.  I eventually came to think of a big change in my life as if I were a plant that had been pulled out and left without roots.  Eventually as I was planted in a new place, my roots would grow deep again and I would learn to thrive…knowing that it was entirely possible that eventually I would be pulled up again and have to regrow roots and the cycle would just continue over and over again.

I will always remember being in the kitchen at a Young Women/Young Men activity on May 8^th, 2018 when someone said “Hey, did you hear the announcement that the church is leaving Scouting?” I read the news article on my phone and while I was excited for the new program, I was sad to see the association end, and more than a little nervous for my job future, particularly in Utah.  As time went on and Friends of Scouting donations drastically declined and people showed less and less interest, my worries grew, but I had faith that Heavenly Father was aware of me and my friends and would help us.  As time went on and things drastically changed, I prayed and prayed for a miracle that somehow all four of us at our office would be able to stay.  But that was not to be.  On March 31^st, the decision I had been dreading for almost two years happened, three out of the four of us, including myself, were let go.  I had definitely had struggles and difficult times over the four years I was there, but I really loved my job and the people I worked with.  Despite having faith and trust in Heavenly Father that it would all work out, I was heartbroken.  Once again, I felt like I had been ripped up and left without roots.

One of the last fun things I had done at my office was start my little flower garden plant.  I moved it around to different windows in the office depending on where the light was, misted it 2-3 times a day, and one of the first things I did in the morning was check to see how it had grown over night.  It was great fun.  About a week and a half after I had been laid off, my plant started to wilt. One single flower bud had opened up but the rest of it was dying.  With my recent loss, I was desperate to find a way for my plant to be okay and thrive again. I researched what the problem might be—was I watering it too much, was I watering too little? Maybe it seems silly, but I began to pray that my plant would be okay again. After a few days, it didn’t look any better.  Finally my dad suggested that maybe it needed to be re-potted.  I hadn’t thought of that, as I don’t have much experience with plants.  That night, as I went to bed I had a clear picture in my mind of running a butter knife around the edge of the pot to help re-pot the plant.   I knew that was what needed to happen.   The next day, my mom helped me.  As we moved the plant from one pot to the other one, my mom said that the plant was definitely pot-bound.   “What does that mean?” I asked. She explained that the roots didn’t have any room to grow and that’s why the plant was wilting.  Within in a few hours of being put in another pot, my dear little plant perked up and I was so relieved.

The next morning I was getting ready for the day, when something extraordinary happened.   I saw in my mind the way my plant looked when we transplanted it to another pot…the roots were still intact.  Then came a sweet revelation into my heart that not only comforted me, but completely changed the way I think about change.  It went something like this.  “You haven’t understood.  I am trying to preserve and protect your roots, not destroy them.  You have never lost your roots, they are the core of who you are.  They will always be with you.  You have just been moved from pot to pot sometimes because you have become pot-bound and can no longer grow in this place. There are other places and people you need and who need you.  I know you feel sad.  I know you wish you could have stayed.  But trust me, you are not without roots.   I’ve got you.  I am the Master Gardener and I am preparing a wonderful new place for you to grow, thrive and blossom. “

  

Today my plant has dozens of blossoms on it and has and grown so much that I will be re-potting it today.  I am so grateful for this goal and for a loving Heavenly Father who timed things so perfectly that I will always have this precious parable to treasure and learn from all my life.  I am still sad about the loss of my job but I know that when you lose something you love it’s okay to be sad.  I know that I will be okay.  I know my friends will be okay.  I know that Scouting will be okay. God is the Master Gardner and He is always creating something beautiful. 

"Live Love Now" One of the Most Successful Books I've Ever Read

How do you measure a successful life? Ralph Waldo Emerson once defined it this way: “To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived, this is to have succeeded.” Could the success of a book be measured the same way? Yes, it can.  Inside the summer-sky-blue cover of “Live, Love, Now” lies a safe haven for parents, grandparents, and anyone who loves a child.  Think for a moment about the precious children who are within your sphere of influence. What do you want most for them?  Do you want them to savor and experience their one precious life to the fullest? Do you want them to love and be loved, and use their unique gifts to bless the world? Do you want them to live fully present, knowing with assurance that who they are today matters more than they were yesterday? Then “Live Love Now” is the book for you.

           

The idea for “Live Love Now” was born out of an inspired exercise Rachel did when she gave a speech to a middle school audience.  She gave them all index cards and then asked this question, “If you could give your parents or the world one message, what would it be?” The answers came…and they changed her world.  Thanks be to God for that divinely inspired question and for this woman who decided she wanted to listen, really listen, and then lend her own unique voice to be an advocate.   Through her classic storytelling of real life examples, soul-searching reflective questions, and examples of index-card messages, Rachel inspires us as she talks about topics such as phone and social media usage, grades and self-esteem, mental health, and unconditional love.  She uses her background as a special needs teacher, an author and motivational speaker.  But at the heart of it all, she is the parent of two teenagers; who just like the rest of us, is doing the best she can, learning from her mistakes, and trying to be a little bit better today than yesterday, as she inspires her children to live, to love, and to be present in the here and now.

            

 “Let nothing distract us from doing the most wonderful thing are here to do—live.” 

             

“No matter what mistakes you make today, tomorrow, or throughout your life, I will always love you.  I will never turn my back on you.  We can get through anything together.”  

“Don’t get ahead of yourself—stay right here.  Don’t get lost in the past—stay right here.  Love in the moment.  This is where life is.”

           
 Beautiful words aren’t they? They have a way of helping you inspired, anchored and comforted. As you read and let Rachel’s words absorb into your heart and mind, don’t be surprised if before too long you discover soul-building words and phrases coming forth in your own voice, inspiring, anchoring and comforting your own people.  Don’t be surprised if old wounds of the heart find a soothing balm in the pages.  Don’t be surprised if while you read about how to strengthen children against an inner bully, you find your own inner bully losing its power.  I’m not the same person I was after reading this book and after years of savoring Rachel’s blog, and her books, I know perfectly well the reason why.  It is because to choose to read Rachel Macy Stafford’s words is to choose to let your heart blossom and change for the better.  I invite you to read “Live Love Now” and discover for yourself.  Again, don’t be surprised if you find yourself letting go of “successful” expectations you had for you and your children.  After all, “to know that even one life has breathed easier because you have lived, this is to have succeeded.” Wouldn’t it be wonderful if it could be the people we love the most? 

The Tale of Arnold Armstrong

It was the phone call that would change everything.  I had almost been on my mission for a year and I was struggling.  It was bitterly cold and I was dealing with seasonal depression and anxiety.  It was a difficult time for me and I was feeling very discouraged.   After one particularly frigid morning, my companion and I were home for lunch when the phone rang.

           

            “Hello, Missionaries for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints,” I said, trying to sound cheerful.  No joke, this is the conversation that greeted me on the other end:

            “Hello, you’re the Mormon missionaries right? Well, my wife is a member of your church, well…she’s kind of a jack Mormon, she hasn’t been to church for fifty years but she recently had a stroke and she really wants us to get bonded in one of your temples.  Well, I understand that in order to get bonded, you have to get baptized first.  Here’s the thing, I love my wife and want to make her happy but I’m 78 years old and I have emphysema and have to be on oxygen and wouldn’t really survive going under water so we’re going to have too skip the water part, is that ok with you?”

           

Honestly, at that moment I was strongly tempted to laugh, but I set up an appointment to meet with him.  He actually lived in the apartment building right behind us.  My companion, Sister Elliott, and I met with him the next day. His name was Arnold Armstrong and we had been with him for about five minutes when it was clear how much he absolutely adored his wife, Dolores. After her stroke, she was living in a care facility in downtown Winnipeg and it broke his heart not to be near her.  We also met that day with Arnold’s daughter, Barbara, a delightfully sweet lady who loved both her parents dearly and took tender care of them.  We taught them the first discussion about Joseph Smith and the restoration.  He listened politely but it was clear he felt no emotion about the story of the First Vision.  As time went on and we met with him more, we could tell that he had little interest in the church itself, he simply was willing to do whatever it takes to make his wife happy.  He was a little offended when we told him there was simply no way to get around the water requirement, baptism by immersion was what the Savior taught and that was the way it was in his church.  We began to pray that not only would the baptism be able to take place, but that Arnold would have a change of heart and become truly converted to the Savior and his gospel. 

            

About a month after that first phone call, Barbara called us to let us know that Arnold had been hospitalized with some lung complications. We went to visit him that night and he was pretty discouraged.  We didn’t try to teach anything that night, just listened to him and then said a prayer together.  We were just about to leave when I had the feeling I should sing a Primary song to him.  I sang him “I am a Child of God,” and for the first time, I felt like he had truly been touched by the Spirit. He was in the hospital for about a month and we would come to visit him several more times.  We taught lessons, sang songs, and just bore testimony.  I think it was one the most extraordinary things a person can experience when you are teaching and the words just flow into you, a complete conduit for the Spirit.  I knew how much Heavenly Father loved Arnold and how much he cared about him being taught the gospel and being baptized.  During this time, Arnold and Barbara gave me the nickname of “Sister Cool” because I was always responding with “That’s cool!” to stories he would tell.  It was one of the sweetest experiences of my life to watch little by little as Arnold’s testimony grew and blossomed. 

           

After he was released from the hospital, Arnold went to live at the same care facility that Dolores lived in.  It was wonderful that they could be together again, and we made several visits to them both during the first few weeks.  But, the care facility was out of our area, and eventually we had to turn the Armstrongs over to the elders in the area.  It was hard to let them go, but we trusted the elders and knew they would be great for the Armstrongs.  As time went on and his health declined, it wasn’t looking like Arnold would be able to have a baptism in this life.  He would start feeling better and then decline rapidly.  But then one day we got word that he had finally decided to set a baptism date with the elders.   He believed in the church.  He loved the gospel.  He loved the Savior, and he wanted to be baptized…no matter what the cost. 

            

A few days after Arnold had set the date, President Limoges, a counselor in the stake presidency came with us and the elders to meet with Arnold and Dolores.  While he was talking to Arnold, I sat and chatted with Dolores, but I caught one thing that Arnold said, something that changed my life forever.  “You know,” I heard him say, “I’ve been meeting with missionaries since 1959, and I never really listened to any of them, until she came along.” The words were some of the most important I’ve ever heard in my whole life.  I knew his conversion had nothing to do with me, and he knew that too, but for some glorious reason, Heavenly Father had called me to come on this mission and be the one to reach one soul, one lost sheep, a 78 year old man and help bring him to the Savior. What a blessing! What a privilege! My mission was tough for me with several health issues, depression and anxiety and terrible homesickness at times.  But at that moment, it was all worth it. 

            

The baptism was scheduled for two weeks before I was to go home.  The night before his baptism, Arnold starting coughing up blood and was rushed to the hospital.  They were able to stabilize him and we went to see him a few days before I left.  He was doing much better but he still looked so pale and week.  I asked him if he was sure that baptism in this life was something that he still wanted to do.  He could have his work done for him.  I would be sure of it.  He looked me in the eyes and said “I don’t care if I have to crawl down into the font, be baptized, crawl out of the font and die on the way home, I am doing this because I know it’s true.   It’s what I have to do.”  

It was the last time I would ever see him in this life.  I left to go home two days later.

            

On July 28^th, 2001, Arnold Armstrong was baptized and confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  My mission president called me after the baptism to tell me the story.  There were two missionaries in the font, one to baptize him, one to hold his oxygen tank.  The missionary raised his arm to the square, said the prayer, and then the other quickly removed Arnold’s oxygen and then replaced it when he came out of the water.  Unfortunately, he was not immersed all the way and so they had to do it again.  Already exhausted, Arnold prayed out loud for Heavenly Father to help him because he wanted this so badly.  There was not a dry eye in the room.  The second time worked, and Arnold Armstrong came up out of the water reborn. 

            

He went home to God four years later.  Dolores passed away later on that year.  I still am in contact with Barbara and when we talk, I remember so many of the sweet experiences I had working with her parents. I have no doubt that Arnold and Dolores are involved in the work on the other side.  If I had one message to give to missionaries it would be this:  If you are struggling, don’t give up.  The person or people God sent you to find could be calling you tomorrow.  You can be struggling and God will still use you to find his lost sheep.  Twenty years ago today, I entered the MTC.  My life was never the same again.   I am so grateful for the chance I had to serve as a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and I am so grateful for my dear friend Arnold Armstrong and that chance that I had to share the most precious thing in the world to me.

It was the phone call that would change everything.  I had almost been on my mission for a year and I was struggling.  It was bitterly cold and I was dealing with seasonal depression and anxiety.  It was a difficult time for me and I was feeling very discouraged.   After one particularly frigid morning, my companion and I were home for lunch when the phone rang.            

            “Hello, Missionaries for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints,” I said, trying to sound cheerful.  No joke, this is the conversation that greeted me on the other end:

            “Hello, you’re the Mormon missionaries right? Well, my wife is a member of your church, well…she’s kind of a jack Mormon, she hasn’t been to church for fifty years but she recently had a stroke and she really wants us to get bonded in one of your temples.  Well, I understand that in order to get bonded, you have to get baptized first.  Here’s the thing, I love my wife and want to make her happy but I’m 78 years old and I have emphysema and have to be on oxygen and wouldn’t really survive going under water so we’re going to have too skip the water part, is that ok with you?”

            Honestly, at that moment I was strongly tempted to laugh, but I set up an appointment to meet with him.  He actually lived in the apartment building right behind us.  My companion, Sister Elliott, and I met with him the next day. His name was Arnold Armstrong and we had been with him for about five minutes when it was clear how much he absolutely adored his wife, Dolores. After her stroke, she was living in a care facility in downtown Winnipeg and it broke his heart not to be near her.  We also met that day with Arnold’s daughter, Barbara, a delightfully sweet lady who loved both her parents dearly and took tender care of them.  We taught them the first discussion about Joseph Smith and the restoration.  He listened politely but it was clear he felt no emotion about the story of the First Vision.  As time went on and we met with him more, we could tell that he had little interest in the church itself, he simply was willing to do whatever it takes to make his wife happy.  He was a little offended when we told him there was simply no way to get around the water requirement, baptism by immersion was what the Savior taught and that was the way it was in his church.  We began to pray that not only would the baptism be able to take place, but that Arnold would have a change of heart and become truly converted to the Savior and his gospel. 

            About a month after that first phone call, Barbara called us to let us know that Arnold had been hospitalized with some lung complications. We went to visit him that night and he was pretty discouraged.  We didn’t try to teach anything that night, just listened to him and then said a prayer together.  We were just about to leave when I had the feeling I should sing a Primary song to him.  I sang him “I am a Child of God,” and for the first time, I felt like he had truly been touched by the Spirit. He was in the hospital for about a month and we would come to visit him several more times.  We taught lessons, sang songs, and just bore testimony.  I think it was one the most extraordinary things a person can experience when you are teaching and the words just flow into you, a complete conduit for the Spirit.  I knew how much Heavenly Father loved Arnold and how much he cared about him being taught the gospel and being baptized.  During this time, Arnold and Barbara gave me the nickname of “Sister Cool” because I was always responding with “That’s cool!” to stories he would tell.  It was one of the sweetest experiences of my life to watch little by little as Arnold’s testimony grew and blossomed. 

            After he was released from the hospital, Arnold went to live at the same care facility that Dolores lived in.  It was wonderful that they could be together again, and we made several visits to them both during the first few weeks.  But, the care facility was out of our area, and eventually we had to turn the Armstrongs over to the elders in the area.  It was hard to let them go, but we trusted the elders and knew they would be great for the Armstrongs.  As time went on and his health declined, it wasn’t looking like Arnold would be able to have a baptism in this life.  He would start feeling better and then decline rapidly.  But then one day we got word that he had finally decided to set a baptism date with the elders.   He believed in the church.  He loved the gospel.  He loved the Savior, and he wanted to be baptized…no matter what the cost. 

            A few days after Arnold had set the date, President Limoges, a counselor in the stake presidency came with us and the elders to meet with Arnold and Dolores.  While he was talking to Arnold, I sat and chatted with Dolores, but I caught one thing that Arnold said, something that changed my life forever.  “You know,” I heard him say, “I’ve been meeting with missionaries since 1959, and I never really listened to any of them, until she came along.” The words were some of the most important I’ve ever heard in my whole life.  I knew his conversion had nothing to do with me, and he knew that too, but for some glorious reason, Heavenly Father had called me to come on this mission and be the one to reach one soul, one lost sheep, a 78 year old man and help bring him to the Savior. What a blessing! What a privilege! My mission was tough for me with several health issues, depression and anxiety and terrible homesickness at times.  But at that moment, it was all worth it. 

            The baptism was scheduled for two weeks before I was to go home.  The night before his baptism, Arnold starting coughing up blood and was rushed to the hospital.  They were able to stabilize him and we went to see him a few days before I left.  He was doing much better but he still looked so pale and week.  I asked him if he was sure that baptism in this life was something that he still wanted to do.  He could have his work done for him.  I would be sure of it.  He looked me in the eyes and said “I don’t care if I have to crawl down into the font, be baptized, crawl out of the font and die on the way home, I am doing this because I know it’s true.   It’s what I have to do.”  

It was the last time I would ever see him in this life.  I left to go home two days later.

            On July 28^th, 2001, Arnold Armstrong was baptized and confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  My mission president called me after the baptism to tell me the story.  There were two missionaries in the font, one to baptize him, one to hold his oxygen tank.  The missionary raised his arm to the square, said the prayer, and then the other quickly removed Arnold’s oxygen and then replaced it when he came out of the water.  Unfortunately, he was not immersed all the way and so they had to do it again.  Already exhausted, Arnold prayed out loud for Heavenly Father to help him because he wanted this so badly.  There was not a dry eye in the room.  The second time worked, and Arnold Armstrong came up out of the water reborn. 

            He went home to God four years later.  Dolores passed away later on that year.  I still am in contact with Barbara and when we talk, I remember so many of the sweet experiences I had working with her parents. I have no doubt that Arnold and Dolores are involved in the work on the other side.  If I had one message to give to missionaries it would be this:  If you are struggling, don’t give up.  The person or people God sent you to find could be calling you tomorrow.  You can be struggling and God will still use you to find his lost sheep.  Twenty years ago today, I entered the MTC.  My life was never the same again.   I am so grateful for the chance I had to serve as a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and I am so grateful for my dear friend Arnold Armstrong and that chance that I had to share the most precious thing in the world to me.

The Tale of the Time the Temple was Vandalized on Christmas Eve

           My heart sank as I read the news report; broken windows, damaged walls and mirrors, paintings taken off the walls and damaged.  I felt sick as I thought of someone walking the halls and hurting the place I have come to know so well and love so dearly…on Christmas Eve of all days.  I started to wonder, when I go to serve on Saturday, which paintings would gone, never to brighten the halls and bring cheer again.  The more I thought about it, the more heartbroken I felt.  I saw my dad and he gave me a big hug.  He then said with faith, “It doesn’t matter.  Satan can do whatever he wants, it still won’t stop the work of the temple.” His words brought me back to an experience I had years ago. 

           

           I was at BYUI and took advantage of an amazing deal to see some of the church history sites.  It was a whirlwind trip, but we had a chance to spend some quality time in Nauvoo.  That is such a special place! I loved the peaceful feeling I had.  I felt like I was home.  I had a delightful time walking around the houses and then headed up to a little street that had several little shops.  I was enjoying myself a lot when I saw a little white church across the street.  Anti-Mormon paraphernalia was plastered all over the windows.  I was ticked.  How dare they? They had no business coming into our town and spreading those kinds of lies! What if a new member came to feel the spirit and was led away by that? I was still bugged as I went to the fireside that night at the Joseph Smith Center.  The fireside talk was amazing.   I felt the Spirit strongly. At one point, the speaker talked about the Saints leaving Nauvoo and he said something that I’ve never forgotten.   “When the mob killed Joseph Smith, God was not up in Heaven saying ‘Oh no, what do I do now?!’ When the Saints were driven from Nauvoo, God was not saying ‘Well, now we’re finished!’ Brigham Young turned and looked on their beloved city with everything they had worked so hard for being destroyed and he prophesied that they would back.” The speaker leaned forward with conviction and said powerfully, “We’re back.” Suddenly it was like a shot of electricity went through me and I realized that the little church down the lane could do whatever it wanted, because it didn’t matter. It was good for me to look back on that experience after hearing about the vandalism at the temple.  My dad was right, in the long run, the vandalism doesn’t matter one bit. 

            

          Today I was thinking about the “Light of the World” prompt for the day, to list some of the things the Savior has done for me.  Honestly speaking, I’ve been struggling with anxiety lately, worrying about the future and about other problems.  One particular anxiety demon I have always struggled with, is being afraid that I have disappointed or angered the people I love, and that they are going to walk away from me.  That has really been a struggle for me lately.  I thought about today how anxiety and depression are kind of like a vandal.  They break in and cause havoc, taking the beautiful pictures of your life and damaging or destroying them.  It’s easy to feel invaded. It’s easy to give into the negativity and to believe the lies that anxiety paints.  But just like the early saints, I know that God has a plan for me. I know that he is very much aware of me.  I know that because of Jesus Christ, it will be okay in the end, and if it’s not okay, then it’s not end.  I know that just as workers lovingly fixed windows and walls in the temple, and artists will lovingly paint more pictures, the Savior works within me, to repair damaged thoughts and a hurting heart.  I know he will use beautiful memories and loving moments with dear ones to paint more beautiful pictures for me to hang on the walls of my heart and mind.  The Savior heals.  I am so grateful for all that he has done for me.  Merry Christmas 2019!

What I've Seen and How I've Changed.

Last night, while I was serving in the temple and waiting for a few moments while someone I was assisting was in the restroom, I was talking with a group of people and someone asked what I did for a living.  When I told the group that I work for the Boy Scouts of America, I knew exactly the question someone would ask next, “Do you think you will be able to keep your job after the church leaves Scouting?” and sure enough they did.  I said the same answer that I’ve been giving for almost a year and a half now. “I sure hope so.” Then, again predictably, the conversation turned to how the Boy Scouts have lost their morals, and brought this separation on themselves, and how it is such a good thing that it is going away.  I’ve heard it many, many, times.  Not wanting to create anything even resembling tension in the temple, I just waited quietly and then helped the temple patron on to our next area, feeling a little sad.   As I was walking, the thought came to my mind “They haven’t seen what you’ve seen.”

So, the point of this little blog post is to hopefully show anyone who might be interested, a little bit of what I’ve seen during my almost four years working for the Trapper Trails Council.  This job came along at a critical time for me, when I really, really needed it.   It provided income I had been missing for about six months, and the breath of fresh air and peace of heart and mind, I had been missing in my professional life for years.  It was remarkable to me to come into a place where staff meeting began with prayer, where I had the freedom to say “Merry Christmas” as much as I pleased during the Christmas season, and where I could put a picture of the Savior up on my desk without anyone asking me to take it down for fear it might offend someone.  Last year, all the employees of the council met in Ogden for a training about the upcoming changes.  On the second day of the training, we all gathered outside the building around the flag pole.  Together, we said “The Pledge of Allegiance” and then we all bowed our head together as one team of different people with different backgrounds and different religions and we all prayed together to ask for God’s help moving forward.  How many people get to say that they’ve ever had a work day that starts like that?  It was one of the most rewarding moments in my professional life. 

Let me tell you what else I’ve seen.  One of my assignments this year has been to digitize the Eagle applications.  It is no easy task, believe me.  As I’ve scanned thousands of applications, I have thought about the fact that each one of those pieces of paper represents a young man doing something challenging that changed him. It represents merit badges earned by hard work, parents and leaders who believed in and supported a young man.  Collectively, I would say that all the Eagle files represents tens of thousands of Eagle project hours, each project making the world a little bit better of a place.  Just think of that! It is amazing!

I have seen an amazing young woman walk into the office with a light in her eyes and a spring in her step that is truly inspiring.  She came because she wanted to join the Order of the Arrow in our council.  She has already been active in Scouts where she came from.  She came here to go to school at Utah State, and because she is only 17, parent permission was required for her to join.  An email from her parents came to our office stating simply that they gave permission for their daughter to join Scouts and any other organization that warms her heart.  She is an active part of her girl’s troop (there are no co-ed troops) and also helps out when she can with the younger boys in one of the community packs.  I have no doubt she will earn her Eagle Scout award.  She isn’t taking away anything from any young man, she isn’t trying to lose her feminity or anything of the sort.  She is simply taking advantage of all the wonderful opportunities she can to become the best person she can. 

Just a few weeks ago, I had the chance to observe one of the community den meetings.  Only one little boy was there, and this little boy is known for being a little hyperactive.  Instead of canceling, the den leaders paid extra special attention to this little boy, having him lead the leaders in saying the Pledge and the Scout oath and law. They taught him how to fold a flag correctly and throughout the night continued to praise his efforts.  I observed that same little boy the next week during the next den meeting.  He had his new scout book with him and he hugged it to him during the evening.  When a question was asked, he was thrilled to be able to look up the answer in his new treasure. 

I have seen a six year old boy raise up his two fingers and repeat the Scout oath and law perfectly and beautifully.  I have heard a 90 plus year old gentleman tell me that he carries merit badge books around in his briefcase simply because they are the best books and he loves to take one out when he has the time and learn about something new.  I could tell you lots more stories.  I could tell you how I am a different and a better person than I was four years ago because of the things I have seen.  

I know The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints is true. I know that President Nelson is a prophet and I know without any question that the new Children and Youth initiative is exactly what the Lord wants for his church right now.  I know the Scouting and Personal Progress were the perfect preparation for that inspired direction.  Scouting has served its purpose in the church. Its time as a church program is over.  But, I believe in Scouting.  I have seen the power that it has to change people’s lives

for the better.  Come January 1^st, everybody gets to make a choice.  If you choose to walk away and never look back, then that’s just great!  There are so many wonderful things out there to do and enjoy.  If you choose to continue to make Scouting a part of your life, there are plenty of packs and troops for you to continue to have grand adventures.  Speaking for myself, “Scout me in!”

My Little Elizabeth

         

            He walked slowly, reverently, down the little path lined with yellow and purple pansies.  He vowed that for as many summers as he is living, this place would never be free of flowers.  It brought him great comfort to wander in the hothouses and pick out flowers he knew she would have loved, and then give them to Amy, Jo and Meg to lovingly plant and care for.  As he came closer, he could hear the faintest sound of ringing bells.  That was Jo’s idea.  The girls had tied small bells to some of the plants so when the wind rustled the leaves, there was the beautiful silvery sound of bells.  “Beth needs music,” Jo had said, “And she shall have it.”

            

            “Drandpa Lauwence,” came the small voice from the girl at his side, and the small chubby hand in his pulled loose and tugged on his jacket.

            “Yes darling Bess,” he answered softly. 

            “We going to see Auntie Beff?” the golden-haired child smiled up at him. 

            “Yes Princess,” he replied and a fresh pang of sadness tore at his heart as he thought about how the girl who had brought so much light, love, and music to their lives, would only exist through stories to her small little namesake.  He loved that Amy told Bess that Aunt Beth was a beautiful guardian angel who would always watch over her and inspire her to do good things.

            

               They arrived at the grave, and even though it had been five years since her passing, Mr. Lawrence took in a sharp breath as tears stung in his eyes.  Five years later and still the thoughts ran through his mind, “If only…” If he only he hadn’t been in Europe.  If only he could have used his money to send her to the best doctors, on as many holidays as she needed.  If only he could have done something.  When he had first arrived home from Europe, he had had long late night talks with the Marches, as they told him about the final year and assured him that there was nothing anyone could have done.  And yet he knew perfectly well that they were all haunted with the same question. 

           

               He thought back to that day at the house, when they came to say goodbye to the family before leaving for Europe.  He tried to remember every detail of that day, the last time he would ever see her.  He had been so consumed with thoughts of the trip, worry over his boy’s broken heart and disappointment over Jo’s decision to reject the proposal, he hadn’t been thinking of much else. He had made his rounds, saying goodbye to each of the girls and his good friends.  Finally he came to Beth and smiled down at her, brushing his finger down the bridge of her nose and saying softly, “Goodbye my Elizabeth, whatever shall I do without my girl?” He saw her eyes light up as they always did when he called her “my girl,” and then he saw something else happen, as if a cloud had suddenly rolled in.  Her eyes looked as though her heart were breaking. 

            

             “Darling, what is it?” he stepped closer to her, and for one brief moment, he considered cancelling the trip.  But the storm passed as quickly as it had come on and she smiled again and then hugged him tightly. 

            “Goodbye Grandfather” she whispered into his jacket.  It was the first time she had called him that and he had been so delighted at this display of affection that he had almost forgotten his anxiety over the strange look in her eyes.  He gently kissed her forehead and left.  

               The letter from Jo would come six months later.  The tear stains on the paper saying more than the actual letter.  He still remembered the awful feeling as he had realized that Beth had known she would not see him again.  He felt as the air was sucked out of him as he read the words, “There is not much time left.”   He was determined to cut his trip short and go home but Jo wrote of how Beth pleaded for him not to come on account of her.  It broke his heart, but he would abide by her wishes. Jo would later tell him on one of their walks together that Beth had not wanted him to suffer the way he had when his little granddaughter Patricia had died.  If he were away, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt so much.  Perhaps he would be able to forget a little easier.   She was wrong.   He wrote letters and sent little trinkets he hoped would make her smile: music boxes that played her favorite melodies, sugar plums, brilliantly colored postcards.  For a time, she would small simple letters that talked of anything else but herself.  They would always be signed, “With Love, Your Little Elizabeth.” He treasured those letters.  Then one day, a letter arrived that was shorter than all the rest.  It simply said,

               “Dear Grandfather, I am not like Jo.  I don’t know the words to say what I feel.  But please know that I am so grateful to have been your girl.  I hope I can be as good of an angel as Patricia.  I will tell her how good you have been to me.  I love you, Your Little Elizabeth.”

                He wrote back and told her that he was not good at finding the words either, but he loved her as dearly as if she were his own flesh and blood.  There were no more letters after that, and he was haunted with thoughts of her final days.  With a spiritual fervency he had not known in years, he pleaded with God to ease Beth’s suffering and to let her release from life be as gentle as possible.  The letter from Jo came on a cold and rainy day.  There wasn’t much, just a line about Beth’s peaceful passing and gratitude expressed to him and Laurie for all they had meant to Beth.  Laurie had left immediately to go to Amy and so he was left alone with his grief.  There were moments in the next weeks and months that he could feel Beth’s presence so clearly that he could almost hear music, the beloved old tunes he would ask her to play for him. It helped so much those first few months.  As time went on, and to his delight Amy and Laurie became engaged and then shortly married, he found himself caught up in life again and the pain slowly got better. 

               Still, as the time came to return home, his heart ached at the thought of visiting the Marches and seeing Beth’s place empty.  He knew there would be no more summer twilight evenings listening to her playing the piano for him, but even still as he opened up the house and saw the piano in the music room, he forgot for a moment, only to have reality come crashing down again.   When he had visited the Marches, he tried to focus on the person he knew was feeling Beth’s loss greater than anyone.  When the time was right, he had put his arm around Jo and whispered, “You must be my girl now,” And with that statement came the promise that he would watch over her and be a devoted grandfather and friend all the rest of his days. 

                The years had passed, bringing more marriages, more children, more laughter and tears that sealed his heart to the March family more than ever.  Now, here they were, five years later.  The little Elizabeth who stood beside him and held onto his thumb, had not taken her aunt’s place, no one could do that, but had brought more joy to him than he had known in a long time.  He reached up and wiped away a tear from his eyes, and then lovingly brushed his hands over the words on the headstone, “Elizabeth March. Our Angel in Heaven.”

               “Drandpa Lauwence,” Bess quietly said as she tugged on his jacket sleeve. “Auntie Beff is the sweetest angel in Heaven.”

               “Yes Princess,” he said softly.  “She certainly is.

                 He looked up into the sky, feeling the warmth of the sunshine on his face, “Until next time my little Elizabeth,” he said as he took Bess’ hand and turned to walk away.   A soft wind came up and he could have sworn he heard the bells gently ringing out the melody of his favorite hymn.  He smiled, knowingly.  

The "Happy" Books

Half-Magic by Edward Eager: This is a delightful book about siblings who want to have an adventure during the summer.  They find an old coin and don't realize at first that it has the power to grant wishes.  There's a catch however, it only grants wishes in half of what the person asks for.  It's such a sweet funny feel-good story. This is the first book in a wonderful series!

An Old Fashioned Girl by Louisa May Alcott:  This is one of my favorites.  If you like Little Women, you should read this book.  It's the story of Polly Milton, an old fashioned girl who comes to visit her modern city friend Fanny and her family.  Fanny's family has a lot of problems and Polly is a sweet and happy influence on them.  There are some beautiful love stories and wonderful messages about the power of family, friendship and girl power. 

A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett : This may not seem like a very happy story, but it definitely is an inspirational one.  I loved reading it again.  For anybody unfamiliar with the story, Sara Crewe is the daughter of a rich young man who comes to live at a boarding school and is treated like a princess.  Something happens that completely changes her life for the worse and she has to decide that through everything, she can be a princess inside and persevere.

Little Women by Louisa May Alcott: Trust me, as good as the movies are, the book is better.  I have read this book several times and each time I read it, I am better for it.  There are so many beautiful messages.  The characters are so real and wonderful.  There is a lot in the book that the movie leaves out.  If you are unfamiliar with this story, it is the story of four sisters coming of age while their father is away serving in the Civil War.

Little Men by Louisa May Alcott: The continuation of Little Women.  This is the story of Plumfield and the school that Jo and Professor Bhaer set up.  All of the March family make appearances too, but the story is really about Jo and Fredrick and their family, including the boys and girls at the school that they treat as their own.  One of these boys is an out-of-control boy of the streets and the mother/son relationship that develops between him and Jo is really beautiful. 

Jo's Boys by Louisa May Alcott : Another continuation of the March/Bhaer/Lawrence/Brooke family.  Now Plumfield has become a small little college.  The children of Jo, Meg, and Amy are in their teens or young adulthood.  Jo is a little more preachy in this book, but still it is a wonderful story, with a redemption story-line that is truly beautiful!

Pollyanna by Eleanor H. Porter : If you don't know this story, it's about a little girl who made up the glad game, looking for something to be glad about no matter what happens.  Disney's Pollyanna is one of my top five favorite movies of all time, but the book is pretty different and goes through more of her interactions with the townspeople and the hearts she helped change, and also spends a lot of time when Pollyanna's life is changed and the game becomes very difficult to play. 

Heidi by Johanna Spyri: This was a delight to read again.  Makes me want to visit the Swiss Alps.  This book just makes you feel good! It's the story of a little girl who goes to live with her grandfather in the Swiss Alps and immediately falls in love with the wildflowers and the goats her grandfather keeps.  She ends up having to leave for a time and befriends a crippled sick girl named Klara.  It is a beautiful story about home, friendship and the healing power of nature.

Pat of Silver Bush by L.M. Montgomery: This is another wonderful story by L.M. Montgomery.  The heroine is Patricia Gardner, a girl who loves her home and family more than anything and is terribly afraid of change. (remind you of anyone you know?) It is a great read as she grows up and faces inevitable changes in her life and adapts.  It's a lovely story!

Jane of Lantern Hill by L.M. Montgomery: This is another book I have read at least a dozen times and I can't put it down each time.  I love this story so much! The heroine is Jane Stuart, a pre-teen girl who lives with her sweet but spineless mother and her overbearing grandmother.  She is constantly made to feel stupid by everyone except her mother, and has zero confidence.  She believed all her life that her father was dead, and then learns that her parents are in fact separated and her dad lives on Prince Edward Island.  Her life changes forever for the better when her dad writes and asks that Jane come stay with him for the summer. 

Eight Cousins by Louisa May Alcott: Another sweet lesser-known book by Louisa May Alcott.  Rose is an orphan who is sent to live with her father's brother, Alec.  This is one of Alcott's book that really lets the father character shine as Uncle Alec is a wonderful presence in Rose's life and he helps her to become a happy, healthy young lady.  She also lives within walking distance of all of her father's sisters, who have all boys.  There are eight cousins overall, with Rose being the only girl.  This is a wonderful story and also has a sequel "Rose in Bloom"

Raggedy Ann Stories by Johnny Gruelle: This was a quick, fun, nostalgic little read.  Just a sweet little book about Raggedy Ann and the adventures she has with her little mamma Marcella and all of her doll friends.  My mom used to read these stories to me (and most of the others listed here) and I loved reading them again. 

The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett: Out of all the books I read, I think this is the one I most enjoyed rereading again.  I need to read it every spring, it does me so much good.  If you don't know the story, it is about a spoiled, sickly little girl from India who comes to live with her uncle in England after her parents die.  After she finds out about a mysterious secret garden that no one has been in for 10 years, she is determined to find it.  As Spring happens and the world outside begins to bloom, Mary finds herself blooming as well.  I really needed to read this book this spring. It has done me so much good!

There were a few other children's picture books I loved when I was a girl that I read "Baby Dear" "Where did the Baby go?" "First Delights" and "My Favorite Things."