Our Hands Can Become His Hands: A Little Christmas Miracle

Two year old Lucy was excited for Christmas to come soon.  Her family was busy making Christmas treats, wrapping interesting looking packages, decorating the Christmas tree and getting ready for company to come spend the holiday with them.  Lucy loved the tree with its shining lights and beautiful ornaments.  As the children made their Christmas lists, Lucy could only think of one thing.  “This Christmas, I want a little Christmas tree of my very own!” she said.

A few days before Christmas, Lucy wasn’t feeling very well.  Her mother took her to the doctor who sent them off to the ER where Lucy was admitted to the hospital.  It was scary at the hospital and she didn’t like the things they did to her there to help her feel better.  They hoped she would only have to stay one night so she could go home to her family by Christmas Eve, but Lucy was still too sick to go home, so she and her mother prepared to spend another night in the hospital.  Maybe, just maybe, she’d be able to go home on Christmas Day.

Lucy’s dad was left to entertain their company and make the final preparations for Christmas morning.  Lucy’s brother and sisters were not even allowed to come to the hospital to visit her.

On Christmas Eve as Lucy and her mother cuddled together in her hospital room, an elderly lady from a nearby assisted living home came to the door.  She had brought toys for the children in the hospital and had even remembered the mothers there with their children.  She brought Lucy a little stuffed animal, but Lucy’s eyes opened wide when she saw what was in her other hand. The lady had intended the gift for Lucy’s mother, but Lucy just knew immediately that it was for her!  It was a beautiful glass Christmas tree that lighted up and changed colors.  Just what she wanted! Lucy didn’t let that tree go all night.  She slept with it cradled in her arms.

As her mother said, “Christmas in the hospital is not ideal, of course. Mary and Joseph may have preferred it to a stable. So I won't fuss too much about it. Lucy only put one thing on her Christmas list this year- her own little Christmas tree. Last night a little old lady from a nearby assisted living center brought by some gifts. Lucy got her own little light up Christmas tree. I'm sure this lady had no idea, but did what she could and that was exactly what was needed.”

While Lucy slept that Christmas Eve, Santa even found all the sick children in the hospital and remembered them with gifts, but one of the best gifts of all was when her family was given permission to come see her on Christmas Day for a little while.

Happily, Lucy passed the test of being without extra oxygen the day after Christmas and was able to go home at last!

So many people made her Christmas better…her doctors, nurses and other care givers, her family, the elderly lady, and those who prayed for her recovery.  As Pres. Uchtdorf said, “As we emulate His perfect example, our hands can become His hands; our eyes, His eyes; our heart, His heart.”  It is not unusual for Heavenly Father to use us to bless the lives of our families and friends.

As Time Goes By - Grandma and Grandpa

In the summer of 1961 I got to spend a couple of months with my grandparents.  I was 12 and they were OLD.   They tried their best to keep me entertained and I really wasn't a high maintenance kid, so we got along just fine.  Their lifestyle was a bit old-fashioned, but I enjoyed it for the most part.  When I was at loose ends, I just found a book to read since I enjoyed that. 

My grandparents never had a dishwasher, so after each meal we went to the sink where we washed and dried the dishes before putting them away.  Paper plates were for picnics, not regular meals.  In the morning after breakfast, Grandpa and I went out to feed the chickens he kept in his back yard.  They did not live on a farm.  Often Grandpa would go out and rototill his large garden and get his ditches ready for his irrigation turn.  When Grandma did laundry, we went down the basement and washed the clothes.  At that time she had a double dexter washer.  After we got the clothes all washed and rinsed, I helped Grandma load them into a laundry basket and then carried them up the stairs and out to the clothesline for her because it was hard for her to do because she was old.

The clotheslines were in the back yard in the hot, dry, summer sun.  We hung up everything with clothespins.  The bedding was hard for Grandma to handle because it was heavy....and she was old, so I helped her with it.

Sometimes when I was working with Grandma she would grimace a bit and ask me to go get one of her dynamite pills.  I thought it was funny that she called them dynamite pills.  They were really nitroglycerin pills.  Grandma almost always wore a dress, with a girdle and nylons.  (She was really excited when pantyhose were invented!)  Her shoes were those black, oxford 'old lady' shoes.  I vowed I would never wear such shoes.  They were for old people.  (Many years later I couldn't believe that my daughters willingly wore similar shoes.)

Sometimes it seemed like we barely finished breakfast when it was time to start cooking dinner, because Grandpa and Grandma ate dinner in the middle of the day.  Sometimes Grandma would send me to the basement to get food out of the 'fruit room' because going up and down the stairs took her too long because she was old.  I went much faster.

Grandma came from a large family.  Her father had 8 children with his first wife.  When that wife died, he remarried and had 9 more children, so all the children had to help.  As the second oldest of the second family, Grandma was assigned to do all the sewing for the family, so she became a really good seamstress.  She liked to help me do sewing projects.  We walked downtown to get fabric.  We didn't get patterns because Grandma always made her own patterns.  We didn't drive.  Grandma didn't ever learn to drive...because she was so old that cars were hardly invented when she was young.

Grandma liked me to help her put curlers in her hair.  She was so old that it hurt her arms to hold them above her head and put her own curlers in.

When Grandma's cherry tree got ripe, she liked me to climb up the ladder to pick the cherries while she handed me buckets from below....because she was too old to climb trees and ladders.

Sometimes in the evening, Grandpa drove us out to visit Uncle Herman's farm.  Herman was Grandma's younger brother.  We always took large, glass gallon jars with us.  Herman filled them with fresh milk from his cows.  Grandma always wanted to stay at the house and visit with Aunt Thelma while I ran out to the barn to watch Uncle Herman milk...and sometimes squirt milk into the mouths of the barn cats.  I think Grandma was just too old to run anymore.

Yesterday I was thinking about Grandma and wondered just how old she really was that summer.  I was startled to realize that she was 66...just a year younger than I am now!

Fisher House

Today is Veterans Day, so this seemed an appropriate time to tell about a recent visit we made to a large VA hospital complex.  My special vet has some health conditions which require occasional visits to a VA facility nearly 100 miles away from our home.  We are fortunate to live so close.  Many others have to travel much further than we did.  We saw cars there from Utah, Idaho, Montana, Colorado and California.  Since my vet had an early morning appointment, we chose to drive down the day before rather than starting out before daylight and finishing in rush hour traffic.  We had been told that we could stay on the VA campus, but I was not looking forward to it.  I imagined some grim, drab military building, sleeping on cots. 

Instead we found a place called Fisher House.  There are apparently Fisher Houses on or near many military complexes.  Ours was on the grounds of the George E. Wahlen Medical Center in Salt Lake City.  Fisher House serves the families of vets who are there for treatment, from one day to extended stays.  What a blessing this is for these families.

After checking in, we were given a tour of the house before being shown to our room.

We were given our 'keys' to the building and our room which was beautiful as well as handicapped accessible.

 

In addition to the bedrooms, there were many communal rooms.  No food was allowed in the bedrooms, but a beautiful dining area was provided.  During meal times, it was a great place for families to get acquainted.

The communal kitchen had around 5 refrigerators with compartments for each room to keep food as well as quite a bit of basic food which was donated for the use of everyone there.  On the night we were there, we didn't even need to prepare our dinner.  A group of folks from the 729th  Air Control Squadron along with a member of the Idaho Air National Guard showed up and took over the kitchen where they made everyone a nice spaghetti dinner.  There were also little cupboards in the kitchen for each bedroom's residents to keep food.

Next to the kitchen was the laundry room.  We didn't need to use it since we were there for just a night, but others were keeping it busy.  When we first went in to the laundry room to look around a lady apologized,  "Here, let me get that (prosthetic) leg out of your way!"

A large DVD collection was in the hall and the library area was stocked with books.  Computers were also available for use in the common areas.

Even though it is November, the weather was beautiful.  People were relaxing on the patio when we arrived, although no one was using the provided grills at the time.  In the background we could even see a little play area for children.

We were there on election night, so the TV room was tuned into the election returns.  Anyone who didn't want to watch the election was able to watch whatever they wanted on the TVs in the bedrooms.

Our particular Fisher House was dedicated to the memory of Chance Phelps, USMC, who was buried in nearby Wyoming.  Our room had a copy of a DVD movie made about him called 'Taking Chance". 

If you decide to watch it, keep your tissues handy. 

The staff and facilities at Fisher House were wonderful.  They are a true blessing in the lives of the families who stay there.  If you ever have occasion to be treated at a VA facility with a Fisher House, I highly recommend that you give it a try.  

Freezer Meals for Seniors Revisited

A few years ago I started helping my favorite seniors with their meals by putting easy to heat entrees into their freezer.  I am still doing that for one of my favorite seniors.  These are some updated observations and considerations.

1.  In many areas, an option such as Meals on Wheels is available for seniors.  Meals are often also provided at senior citizen centers.  For our family these are not an option.  Our senior has difficulty swallowing and chewing food as well as very specific likes and dislikes.  Most food provided by Meals on Wheels  is either too difficult to chew and swallow, or something on the 'dislike' list.  In addition, many seniors have health concerns which necessitate watching carbs, calories, fats, or salt.  It seems to me that most institutional food is difficult for this group.

2.  As time has gone on, our senior is having greater mobility issues which make it difficult to spend much time cooking.  As a result, her nutrition has suffered when she doesn't feel up to cooking.  Lack of appetite is also a consideration.

I started this project by doing entrees for my seniors, but recently, it has made more sense to provide a complete meal.  If I want to be sure my senior will eat the meals I need to find out what foods sound good to them and then prepare the meals in a form that can be eaten.

A couple of days ago, I was planning to make containers with meat, mashed potatoes and vegetables, but when I arrived to make the meals, my senior expressed a desire for Funeral Potatoes, so I cancelled the mashed potatoes for this time.  She loves roast beef, so we stopped in at Lower Foods outlet store and got a 2 pound package of  precooked, thin sliced beef ends.  I put the meat into a food chopper so the meat would be easier to chew and swallow.  Then I made a 9 x 13  pan of funeral potatoes.  Last I cooked some peas and carrots to a consistency that she could eat.

I put 1/3 meat, 1/3 potatoes and 1/3 vegetables into fifteen 9.5 ounce containers before placing the containers in the freezer.  A short warm up in the microwave makes a complete meal easy to prepare.

Since winter is almost here, I think the next freezer meal will be something warm and filling for a cold day.  My senior is hoping for a nice meal of ham and beans.

Homestead Memory Box Revisited

It was just three years ago today that I posted about making a memory box from materials taken from the old homestead.  Then procrastination reared it's ugly head.  Hard to believe so much time has gone by.

Now I finally got it done!  I think I'm happy with how it turned out other than a few little bubbles.  The pictures are all visible on the inside of the lid when it is raised.

The Little Church at 15th and New Jersey - Indianapolis

The picture I am including with this is not mine, but I chose it based on my memories of how the church building looked when I attended there.

Our family moved to Indianapolis in 1951.  The local congregation of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, the Indianapolis North Branch, already met at the 15th and New Jersey church building at that time.  I have no idea how long they had met there before we came.  The building had been purchased from a Protestant church of some kind, so was not new when our congregation bought it.  I was 2 when we moved there and around 6 when the building was sold, so my memories are those of a young child and subject to some inaccuracies possibly.

Looking at the picture, when we entered the church, we used the door to the left in the picture.  I remember a stairway there that went up to the chapel or sanctuary area of the church.  We entered the room from the back.  The podium area was set off from the congregation with a brass? altar rail from which hung turquoise velvet curtains about 18-24 inches long.  When facing the front of the room, I believe there was another room to the left with doors that could be opened to increase the seating area of the chapel, or closed to use for classes.  The area to the right when facing the front led into another room which also had some pews in it.  This room was pretty much used by the women’s group.

I never saw the attic of the church, but my father did. He said there was still evidence that at one time there had been a fire up there. 

The lower level of the church was probably meant to be a hall for social activities, etc, but in our congregation it was used for the children up to age 12 or so.  We met down there for Sunday School.  At the front of the room was a sort of raised platform maybe 2-3 steps up from the floor.  The rest was just a big open room.  Some of the members got together and built little backless benches of various heights for the children to sit on.  Because there were no classrooms for different age groups, my mother and her friend, Norma Whitehead,  ‘fixed’ that by finding a sale on really ugly green burlap which they used to make floor to ceiling length curtains which they strung from wires to divide off 4 areas for the 4 classes.  They divided the room visually but definitely were not sound proof, so we could hear what was going on in every class.  The curtains could be pulled back to use the room as a whole or closed to make the classroom areas.

Two memories I have of that room involved some of the families we attended church with.  The first was when the Haines children sang 'Away in a Manger' in German.  (Their father was stationed in Germany with the military for a time.)  I think this was the first time I was aware that people in other places used other languages.  Maybe this is where my interest in foreign languages began.  The other incident was when one of the children, Mary Margaret Jones, told us that it was her sister's birthday, but she was dead.  ( I didn't really understand at that time, but found out later that the baby, named Carol, had died at birth early in the morning of that Sunday.)

Two other members of the congregation stood out in my childish mind.  One was a lady who always wore a fur piece that appeared to be made of several little animals running around her neck, each biting the tail of the critter in front of it.  I loved looking at it and often couldn't resist furtively reaching out a finger to stroke it.  Another lady often wore a bright red dress which had a belt fashioned from three strands of black velvet.  The ends of the strands hung down from her waist, just the right height for a child to reach.  While she was talking to my mother one day, I found I could use those three pieces of velvet and braid them together.  I felt so grown up to know that I had figured out how to make a braid.

On Sundays we met in the morning for Sunday School…children in the basement and adults upstairs.  In the late afternoon we met again for what we called Sacrament Meeting, when all adults and children met together to listen to sermons on various gospel topics as well as to partake of the sacrament (communion).  During the week, the women’s group met for lessons on the Bible, sewing projects, etc.  The children also had a meeting during the week.  The teenagers met in the evening once a week, so the little building was well used.

The church had no furnace room.  Originally the house next door was the parsonage.  To make it easier for the pastor to stoke the furnace for the church, the church furnace was actually in the parsonage next door.  Our church had a lay ministry, so there was no official pastor, but the home was rented out to one of the members who agreed to take care of the furnace. 

I am not entirely clear on the exact year the church was sold.  I know there had been a building fund drive to earn money to build a new building, but there was a short interim time…maybe as much as a year or two…when we shared a building with another congregation, pending completion of the new church, which happened early in 1957.

At the time the church was sold, my father was the lay leader of the congregation, so he was involved in the sale of the building.  I only have one memory of that sale…standing out on the sidewalk by the church waiting for my parents to finish talking to the man who was buying it.  He had been a Methodist pastor, but wanted to start his own church  At the end of the conversation, when we all left, he leaned down and shook my hand.  Some months later, for old times’ sake, we drove by the church to see what it looked like now that another congregation had it.  I remember the sign on the side of the church.  It read:  People’s Temple…Rev. Jim Jones.

Most of the years I spent attending church there were happy ones.  Most of my memories are of various members of the congregation rather than the building itself.  By the time the building was sold, our congregation had simply outgrown the building. 

The little church building is still in use all these years later, by Restoration Baptist Church.  I am told they have remodeled it.  The furnace is no longer in the parsonage next door and it now has air conditioning!  It is located in an area which is now designated as a historical area of town, so when they remodeled the building, they were required to keep the exterior of the building to fit the historical time frame of the area.  I am glad to see that the church is still serving the community well and going strong!

Update:  27 October 2017

This is the church as it appears today.  This door used to be the main entrance.  Stairs indoors to the right went up to the chapel which is the part in the middle with the fancy windows.  This is no longer the main entrance.

This is the house next to the church that I believe was the old parsonage where the furnace used to be.

This door on the side now appears to be the main entrance.

Craft Weekend 2016

The Elephant in the Room

In the 1960s we lived in northeast Indianapolis, a few miles from the gate of Fort Benjamin Harrison.  Fort Harrison was the home of a number of army schools as well as the finance center for the entire army.  The schools lasted anywhere from a few weeks to months.  Because of that, there was a constant number of soldiers moving in and out.  Because Fort Harrison was in our ward boundaries, it was not unusual to see unknown soldiers show up at church.  Many times, church times coincided with meal times for the soldiers, so going to church meant missing their meal on Sunday, so Mom and Dad routinely gathered up any strangers who showed up for church and brought them home for Sunday dinner.  We never knew how many people would appear for dinner, so Mom kept busy on Saturdays making salads and desserts to go with whatever ham or roast she planned to serve.  Eight extra dinner guests were not unusual.  The most was probably the two Sundays when a National Guard unit from Utah came to Fort Harrison for their annual training.  They commandeered a military bus to attend church and then parked it in front of our house during Sunday dinner.  There were about 30 of them.  No matter the number, Mom made sure there was plenty of food for all.  After dinner, the basketball hoop in the driveway was a great lure.




For a time, there was a vindictive sergeant who wanted to make sure soldiers couldn't attend church on Sunday, so he would wake them up at 5AM for KP duty.  One Saturday the soldiers were alerted that the sergeant planned to grab them the next morning, so a number of them left and showed up at our house about midnight.  Mom welcomed them and made them beds on various couches and the living room floor.

Most of the soldiers were destined to go to Vietnam.  Many of them remembered the kindness of my parents and kept in touch for many years.


One day, our family made a day trip to Turkey Run State Park where we had fun hiking.  As we returned and pulled into the driveway of our L-shaped house, I noticed something odd in front of our front door, which was somewhat recessed.  Nobody else in the family noticed.  "Look!"  I said.  "There's an elephant by our door.!  I got some funny looks from my parents, who I am sure thought I was hallucinating, and a very sarcastic "sure there is" from someone else, but I was right.  There WAS an elephant by the door.  One of our soldier friends, Jim Bondurant,  had mailed it from Vietnam.  He decided to ship it without a box, reasoning that if the shipper could see that it was fragile, they would be more careful with it.  It came with just a shipping label.

His reasoning worked pretty well, as the only damage was a small corner broken off the top.  Mom  patched it up and soon the damage was barely discernible.

 

Over those years, we met many new and wonderful friends.  I always felt we were fortunate that none of them were lost to us in Vietnam.  As for the elephant, it has been in my parents' living room ever since.  It made a wonderful plant stand.

The Iditarod Sled Dog Race and eternal goals

 During the 29 years I lived in Alaska, the annual Iditarod Sled Dog Race became a much anticipated event.  The race commemorates an event from 1925 when  the small town of Nome, Alaska, had an outbreak of deadly diphtheria.  A relay involving 20 mushers and around 150 sled dogs rushed the antitoxin to Nome in a period of a little more than 5 days, thus saving many lives.

The modern race is not a relay.  Mushers and their dogs go from checkpoint to checkpoint, enduring harsh conditions, to race over 1000 miles from Wasilla or Willow to Nome.   The race is run early in March.  Near the end of a long, dark winter, the Iditarod is  a nice break and a sign that Spring is on the way.

I think there are many analogies that can be drawn between the race and life in general.  It is not possible to run the Iditarod without a lot of preparation.  Mushers must have successfully completed a qualifying race.  They are also required to carry certain items with them to take proper care of themselves and their dogs while along the trail. Our lives also take preparation to reach our eternal goals.  As we prepare spiritually, we become more spiritually strong and ready to successfully get where we want our lives to go.

The race this year (2016) had a couple of notable events.  It is always wise to expect the unexpected.  Sometimes things go wrong for a time, but there is a reward for enduring to the end. 

Two mushers this year, Jeff King and Aliy Zirkle, had an unfortunate experience that might have stopped a less prepared musher.  A drunken snowmachiner seemingly attacked their teams.  In Aliy’s case, he circled back and made several passes, injuring at least one of her dogs.  Jeff was not as fortunate.  Several of his dogs were injured badly, and one died.  I wondered if that would be the end of the race for them…if they would scratch.  They each dropped one or more dogs off at the next checkpoint of Nulato, but they kept on going.  They were focused on the goal ahead, the finish line in Nome.  They did not let the distractions or discouragements of their situation deter them from their goal.   So it is in our lives.  Things happen…some good, some bad.  Our goal is eternal life with our Father in Heaven.  When we hit rough times and situations, we need to focus on our goal, so that we do not become distracted and discouraged.

During the end of the race, three mushers seemed to be taking turns in the lead.  Any one of them could have won the race.  At the second to the last checkpoint, all mushers and teams are required to take a layover of 8 hours before the last 77 mile dash to the finish line. The three top teams came into the checkpoint of White Mountain relatively close together.  The dogs were fed and rested as well as the mushers.  At the end of the 8 hour layover, two of the teams were eager to be off for the finish line.  They ran joyfully.  The third team didn’t realize that their goal was so close.  Shortly after the team left White Mountain, the dogs decided they were finished.  They sat down.  They did not have the information they needed to rally and finish their race.  By not enduring to the end and keeping an eye on their goal, they missed their potential for a great reward.  We are fortunate with the Gospel, to know that our goal is there, waiting for us if we but endure.