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Material Girl

December 1988. A year after high school graduation, and I had my first real job with a regular paycheck. I was a teacher at Kids Kollege, a daycare/preschool center near my home (the same place my parents bought a few years later). I took care of 12 three year olds. I was convinced that their time with me was foundational. Preschool prepared them for kindergarten, and success in kindergarten would mean success in first grade, and so on, ultimately ensuring lives of exceptional achievement. I was sure of it. The other teachers must have been impressed with my work. What other explanation was there for the fact that they sent me their kids to watch too, while they ordered food and hung out together in the office? I often stayed late after work, Xeroxing pages that would surreptitiously teach the children letters and colors while they thought they were merely coloring. I spent my own money on workbooks and storybooks and music that would expand their horizons. The soundtrack to...
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Christmas Phone Books

My brother David marches to the beat of his own drum. I hope he'll forgive me for writing this, but he was always a little different. In the brutal propaganda camp that is the public school system, he never quite fit in. In part it was because of his gifts. He was a piano prodigy. He composed and played at a genius level. I remember him winning a state-wide competition at the age of 9. All of the other finalists were adults with already accomplished careers in music. This wasn't his only gift. He had a gift for languages, mastering them quickly and building a high tolerance for studying them. He was fluent in French long before he was called, at 19, to serve a church mission in Belgium. Today, he is fluent in French, Spanish, and German, but has studied and can get by in Russian, Japanese, and many other more exotic languages. At any time, you are likely to find him with a dog-earred book on Mayan or Mandarin grammar. He developed a deep interest in geography and met...
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How Kjrsten Saved Christmas

Many years, Mom and Dad organized a "sub-for-Santa" on behalf of a family they felt was in need. One memorable year, we sub-for-Santa-ed the Buchanan family. The mother taught 6th grade at Sharon Elementary school where we all attended (at least those old enough to be in elementary school--David, Trinyan, Kjrsten, Ntanya, and maybe Leif. Maybe not Leif--I can't quite remember our ages, but I think David was in 6th grade, which would put me in 5th, Kj in 4th, Ntanya in 2nd, and so Leif in preschool. Patrick would have been 18 months.). Anyway, their family had experienced some kind of difficulty that year. My parents never really explained. I surmised it had something to do with the absence of Mr. Buchanan, leaving Mrs Buchanan with 5 or 6 children. Her eldest was David's age. I remember one of her daughters had vision problems and was constantly teased at school because she wore very thick glasses with a patch over one eye. On Christmas Eve we loaded the car ...
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A Neighborly Christmas

My mom must have baked for a month before Christmas every year. She had tubs of cookies in the stand alone freezer, tucked into closets, and usually all over the countertops in the kitchen for most of December. My mouth waters just thinking of them--split seconds, almond toffee, candycane cookies, butterscotch oatmeal cookies, chocolate chip cookies, snickerdoodles, fudge, divinity, some strange concoction involving nuts and long stringy, crunchy things dipped in chocolate. That's just to name a few. The cookies were placed on plates--each plate featuring a wonderful assortment--covered with saran wrap, topped with a stick-on bow, and then delivered throughout the neighborhood. When we were younger, we went as a family and caroled at the homes where we delivered plates. As the cooperative singing children became less cooperative and tight-lipped teens, the caroling ended, but we were still tasked with delivering plates to dozens and dozens of homes. I don't think my mom e...
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Christmas Memories

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A few weeks ago, I gave a lesson in Relief Society about finding the spirit of Christmas. I'm not sure how well the lesson went, but it turned my mind to recalling Christmases past and to a deep sense of gratitude for my parents and what they taught me about the meaning of Christmas. I thought I would share some of the memories conjured up--with a call to my brothers and sisters to add to the archive. I have fond memories of decorating the tree while Mom made hot chocolate and cookies. The unwrapping of Christmas gifts happened four times a year in our home. The first was when we dragged out all of the Christmas boxes and, with great delight in the ritual, unwrapped every ornament and Christmas trinket from the layers of tissue and toilet paper that protected them. (The second was on Christmas Eve, the third on Christmas morning. The fourth I'll write about another day.) Dad would take us in the evening to one of the ad-hoc Christmas tree lots on State Street in Orem to s...
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Long Time Stranger

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Sorry to my 3 or 4 followers for being so long out of blogging action. Just no time. But tonight. . . tonight I am tuned into Tom's radio show, The Friday Night Soiree, on WDVR fm, and will try multi-tasking. Tom and I joked today about how much we are getting done these days since we don't see each other any more! We both work days. Tom's gone Tues, Thurs, and Friday nights. I'm gone Mon and Weds. Sunday mornings we go our separate ways to church. Doesn't leave much time. I guess it's not all that funny. Landon has a new haircut and let some girls in his dorm pierce his ears with a safety pin. (yes, this is the boy who plans to be a doctor. Maybe he'll soon be learning all there is to know about treating infections :)) Tom saw the new haircut from the stage when Landon and I showed up to his yearly Harmonizers show a few weeks ago. Much to Landon's surprise, Tom liked the haircut. The earrings . . . not so much. But here's to independenc...
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Dorm Livin'

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An update on Landon . . . This is the only picture I was able to snap on move-in day for RU freshmen. He is loving college--enjoying new friends and opportunities and full of zeal for his coursework, even though he has a pretty challenging first semester. He joined intramural rugby and volleyball, and he signed up for many, many clubs, including the Catholic Student league, a Jewish Student Society, and some group promoting breast cancer awareness. They were giving away free things for anyone signing up. Apparently he's collected a pile of loot. My fears of his leaving and never looking back have been abated. I think it's possible he even misses us a little! For my birthday, he left a message--his heavy metal version of "happy birthday to you" played on electric guitar. Made my day!
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