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  • “Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple. Dr. Suess

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

EDUCATION AND INSPIRATION

Online classes at BYU-Idaho use 'Discussion Boards,' a place to post comments and replies, to facilitate interactions with the instructor and between students. Often readings or assignments must be completed as the basic topic for the discussion. The following was a discussion about education.

 Discussion Board Reading "Everybody Is Ignorant, Only on Different Subjects" by Eliot A. Butler (audio)

Question by student group leader: would you consider that a man with no formal education, training, or wide/vast experience could be considered an "educated" person? As an example, let's consider the Savior. Please feel free to also use our other study readings to help substantiate your thoughts. Also, what characteristics, qualities, or accomplishments did he exhibit that help you to draw your conclusion? So, can an education be had through the Spirit? Can we be taught in ways other than in schools and academies? How do we learn?

Linda said:

I took a wee bit of exception to Brother Butler's statement, "When I hear someone say learning is fun, I wonder if that person has never learned or if he has just never had fun (page82)." He speaks of the hard work and drudgery of learning, but then on page 86 contradicts himself, somewhat, as he shows his bias about how fun learning really can be because it changes and enriches our lives even when it creates a "craving" for more "hard work."

My parents never has the opportunity to "go to school" beyond the 8th (mom) and 9th grades (dad). They learned to read, write, and do basic math AND to prize learning of every kind. I think they are educated people yet they never attended high school. They do both know how to work and how to learn and they have never stopped doing it. They taught their 11 children to love and prize learning and find joy in all aspects of living.

Imagine my surprise when I got a Facebook request to friend my father. He decided he was tired of not knowing all the stuff everyone kept saying they learned on FB, so when he turned 85, he got a computer, got help to set it up and learn the rudiments of using it, and sent out friend requests to his family and friends. He is living! He is learning! He is loving life and learning. So is mom. They are wonderful examples of being educated.

Another student said that college is hard work and that people with a college education have worked harder and are smarter. I replied:

“[Susy Somebody], you make a good point that the people with education have put in extra time to be more successful. People that complete college have worked very hard and their degrees ‘prove’ they have. Would it be possible for someone that has not attended college to ‘work’ that hard? What might ‘prove’ their work? Would it be possible for someone to ‘work’ harder than a diligent college student? How would we measure such things as ‘effort’ and ‘work?’ Wouldn't it be fascinating to study and tabulate such statistics?

“With no intent to offend, I must disagree with you. I think that people that attend college may or may not be ‘smarter,’ and that although they do work hard, that the work they do is not always more or harder than the work of learning that people without the chance for college do (and anyone can do ‘extra’ work). The people that do not get to go to college have different stresses. They have to deal with working harder than someone that happens to have a chance to get a degree so they can obtain the same (or more) experience. Consider the stress of learning and adapting ‘on the job’ when they have been denied opportunities for formal education. Now that is work! It is also a willingness to learn that many that attend college never attain.

“My father worked as a general contractor and handyman rancher. He learned from his father who learned from his father. During harvest seasons formal schooling always waited until work that sustained life was complete. Although he had no papers to prove it, his reputation (as a skilled a highly competent contractor) provided more work than he could do and he often ran multiple crews trying to accommodate all the ‘jobs’ he had requests for.

“Once he was referred to be a foreman on a large government project but could only be hired as a laborer because he had no papers. He never complained he just took the lower paying job because it was an opportunity to increase his experience and contacts - and a unique project he wanted to be a part of.

“The ‘foreman’ that had degrees and papers had no real on the job experience, but his resume was wonderful. He did not, however, really understand what the actual work entailed or how to manage crews. Within a short time, the work demanded of workers had to be done over, men were walking off the job in frustration, and a few months later he was fired. Meanwhile my father's common sense solutions, (and support to other men he worked with) and daily, diligent efforts proved his ability and by the time the foreman was fired he was requested to fill the position. Many ‘get’ to attend college. Do they ‘learn’? And do they ‘love it?’”

In reply to the further questions: "Can an education be had through the Spirit? Can we be taught in ways other than in schools and academies? How do we learn?"

I think that part of our experience at BYU-I is to teach us how to achieve that kind of learning -- it is part of what the BYU-I Learning Model is about. Using my father's jobs as an example again – see my reply to Susy above - Can you tell I admire dad a lot? He is not perfect, just available readily to use as an example: He was one of the workers that helped remodel and renovate the Cardston, Alberta Temple (a 3 year process). There is a bas relief, by Torleif Knapfus titled 'Christ the Fountainhead,' depicting the Savior with the woman at the well, on the front of the temple (can be seen here at this link and at the top of the page).
When I was a child our Primary would at times go there and touch it or have pictures taken with it as a group. When first built there was a fountain below it, to reflect the image. The pool was later removed.

The temple had an entry added in the "restoration" work and that area was enclosed. As part of temple's preservation and being returned to its historical state, the fountain with a pool of water below the frieze was re-built. Because of the unique architecture and the challenges faced, some had difficulty to quite figure out how to accomplish what the architects wanted the pool to be formed like.

Some voiced that the "planned renovation" was impossible and could not be done. My father was asked by those that knew him best if he could suggest any solutions. He accepted the invitation. He took careful measurements, reviewed the blueprints with the engineers and pondered it for a day or two.

Later, to me, he described a marvelous process of prayer and inspiration. He knew, and he wanted me to know, that the Lord could teach him how to set up the forms and prepare the site for the construction of the pool there. He said he was led along not always knowing what the next step might be, but carefully proceeding (based on broad experience and knowledge) as he "felt" he should, always discussing his ideas with the engineers and site supervisors, as well as the Lord. He successfully built and placed forms for the pool that now exists inside the Cardston Alberta Temple.

Thursday, July 10, 2014

PENCIL

For my 1st English class we had to write a "This I Believe" essay, and make a short screen-cast. For me it was very difficult. I had never done such a thing before. The result did get me an excellent grade but I was very stressed. I did not publish to the 'This I Believe' website.

I have finally decided to share the essay and screen-cast. If the link doesn't work just copy this information ( http://screencast.com/t/Yp37RwuwDe ) to your browser and wait for the screen-cast to load.


FDEng 101~ 66
Elisabeth Thomas
14 October 2013

Pencil . . . and Erasures

I like short pencils. I don’t break pencils in half on purpose, but I prefer that length; and yes, I most often write in pencil. My husband, on the other hand, likes new pencils. We are a pair.


As his long pencils become “too short,” I acquire perfect just-my-size pencils to wear out. Let me, however, clarify. I believe in pencil—not pencil as a noun: an inexpensive “instrument having a tapered point for its application”[1] in drawing, marking, or writing; but pencil as a verb: a process of action and ongoing change for the making of non-permanent impressions, as may occur during the use of a pencil (or other objects) to “outline, sketch, or delineate.”[2]


“Pencil” is the easily-smeared, simple-to-change and re-order, uncommitted-gray evidence of evolving life. It is what occurs prior to inked permanence. Pencil is readily “rubbed out, effaced, expunged, and obliterated.” It can “utterly cease to exist.”[3] Pencil is the ability to tentatively try, erase mistakes, and try again to improve error and success. I like that erasures eradicate. Pencil permits me to experiment, to attempt all things without the necessity to be perfect—yet. It may begin with a clearly defined point, but often finds its greatest value long after, down among rounded, fat, smudged, hasty scribbles jotted before (and even as) the scratching wood compels a pause that re-sharpens or shapes an instrument, thought or action.


At heart I am an artist. I revel in music, art, dance, and literature, yet can only execute discordant notes, simple sketches, and stumbling steps; and when I write, words pile upon hasty words spilling directly from mind to page. I am a novice.

Although I accept I have not (and may never) master any endeavor, I am in awe of talent of all kinds. I love sports, but you would pick me last to be on your team.Science and mathematics astound my mind, but I fail to grasp more than the edge of a vision of possibilities.


I do have talents. They begin with what I do best—trying. I do what I can to satiate my visceral hunger to perfect my existence by focusing on what I can do—leaving ignored absolutes of cannot. When accidents took my ability to run I learned, with great effort, to walk. After multiple piano teachers asserted, “lessons are wasting your money,” I continued to teach myself—constantly accessing new resources to train my mind and hands. I continue to practice.

I live in the same manner. In admiration of the greatest and noblest ideals, constantly seeking to follow inspiring examples, I pencil my ideas and acts next to those of the masters. I am continually comparing, erasing, adjusting, rearranging and re-ordering myself—I know I can become something more than I now am. I am not ready to be inked yet. I am willing to do and become better. I believe in pencil . . . AND erasures.




[1] Oxford English Dictionary, I 2
[2] Ibid I b
[3] Ibid see Erasures

Friday, July 4, 2014

FRIDAY - IN THE DARK

Today is Friday. My favorite holiday is on Friday.

My favorite holiday is Good Friday.
What does that even mean?

I can only answer that for myself.
We must each find such meanings in our private ponderings.

I find expression of some answers in words spoken in Oct 2006 by Joseph B. Wirthlin, Apostle of Jesus Christ, and member of the Twelve Apostles in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.

     "I think of how dark that Friday was when Christ was lifted up on the cross. On that terrible Friday the earth shook and grew dark ... evil men who sought his life rejoiced ... the veil of the temple was rent in twain ...

     "On that Friday the Apostles were devastated. Jesus, their Savior - the man who had walked on water and raised the dead - was Himself ... [seemed] overcome by His enemies.

     "On that Friday the Savior of mankind was humiliated and bruised, abused and reviled. It was a Friday filled with devastating, consuming sorrow that gnawed at the souls of those who loved and honored the Son of God  ... of all the days since the beginning of this world's history, that Friday was the darkest."

I have dark days in my life.

Days that seem like all light and hope is extinguished. Days and/or nights that seem to have no end.

Times of utter despair.

I suspect you do also.

I hope not, but also know it is part of living and dying, loving, serving and trying.


With rain, sometimes, we may ... if we wipe our eyes and lift them to look -

glimpse a rainbow, God's promise of hope to man.

Elder Wirthlin continues,

     "Each of us will have our own Fridays - those days when the universe itself seems shattered and the shards of our world lie littered about us in pieces. We all will experience those broken times when it seems we can never be put together again. We will all have our Fridays.

     "But I testify to you in the name of the One who conquered death - Sunday will come. In the darkness of our sorrow, Sunday will come.

     "No matter our desperation, no matter our grief, in this life or the next, Sunday will come."[emphasis mine]

I join my voice to Elder Wirthlin.

SUNDAY WILL COME.

And every Sunday I will look again at the white cloth covering the sacrament table and remember the corpse of the Savior and then eat and drink the symbols of His triumph! His triumph that dispels my darkness. Dispels all darkness of all such 'Fridays'.

And with Elder Writhlin I will rejoice and

     " ... live in thanksgiving for the priceless gifts that come to us as [children] of a loving Heavenly Father and for the promise of that bright day when [I] shall rise triumphant from the grave. No matter how dark [my] Friday, Sunday will come.

     "The Resurrection transformed the lives of those who witnessed it. Should it not transform ours? We will all rise from the grave. On that day we will know the love of our Heavenly Father and will rejoice that the Messiah overcame all that we could live forever."

For now I listen to the advice of Isaiah in chapter 24 (verse 14) and sing in the darkness, "Glory to God on high ... tell what his arm has done, what spoils from death he won ..Praising His name ..." hymn 67

After the cold of Winter, Spring brought the change of seasons - the daffodils - the birds - the green - the light ... and now Summer has arrived,

And Sunday will come - even should seasons fail - even in the dark!

Monday, June 23, 2014

IN THE MIDDLE

Many years ago . . .

Staring into the face of a newborn granddaughter
I thought I saw my mother.

I raised my eyes in wonder to her mother's, my youngest daughter.

She laughed at my expression and simply stated,
"She looks like you doesn't she!"

mother and daughter

I realized in that instance that I mirror my own mother.

mother and daughter

I am surprised because I always thought she looks like her mother.

Elna left, daughter Elna Jean right

Yet I've never thought that I look like my grandmother.

We are completely alike but distinctly different.


I am in the middle of generations

In the eyes of a grandchild I see history.

History fascinates me.

Family history enthralls me.

I make discoveries there.

In them I find myself.


Sunday, June 1, 2014

PRAY ON

In my New Testament class, each week we post principles found in our reading. Benjamin Davis posted the following.

FAITH and PRAYER

True faith may sometimes be found, 
where it might have been least expected.

[A story in Matthew 15:21-28 illustrates great faith.

  21 ¶Then Jesus went thence, and departed into the coasts of Tyre and Sidon.

  22 And, behold, a woman of Canaan came out of the same coasts, and cried unto him, saying, Have mercy on me, O Lord, thou Son of David; my daughter is grievously vexed with a devil.


  23 But he answered her not a word. And his disciples came and besought him, saying, Send her away; for she crieth after us.


  24 But he answered and said, I am not sent but unto the lost sheep of the house of Israel.


  25 Then came she and worshipped him, saying, Lord, help me.


  26 But he answered and said, It is not meet to take the children’s bread, and to cast it to dogs.


  27 And she said, Truth, Lord: yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their masters’ table.


  28 Then Jesus answered and said unto her, O woman, great is thy faith: be it unto thee even as thou wilt. And her daughter was made whole from that very hour.]

What encouragement there is [in this story] to persevere in prayer, both for ourselves and others!

It is hard to conceive a more striking illustration of this truth, than we have in this passage. The prayer of this afflicted mother at first seemed entirely unnoticed--Jesus "answered her not a word" (verse 23). Yet she prayed on. 

The answer which by and bye fell from our Lord's lips sounded discouraging--"I wasn't sent to anyone but the lost sheep of the house of Israel" (verse 24). 

Yet she prayed on, "Lord, help me" (verse 25). 

The second answer of our Lord was even less encouraging than the first--"It is not appropriate to take the children's bread and throw it to the dogs" (verse 26). 

Even then she was not silenced. Even then she finds a plea for some "crumbs" (verse 27) of mercy to be granted to her. And her importunity obtained at length a gracious reward. "Woman, great is your faith! Be it done to you even as you desire" 
(verse 28). 

"Seek and you shall find" (Matt. 7:7). 
That promise never yet was broken, 

Let us remember this story, when we pray for ourselves. We are sometimes tempted to think that we get no good by our prayers, and that we may as well give them up altogether. Let us resist the temptation. It comes from the devil. Let us believe, and pray on. 

Let us believe, and pray on. Against our besetting sins, against the spirit of the world, against the wiles of the devil, let us pray on, and not faint. 

Let us believe, and pray on. For strength to do duty, for grace to bear our trials, for comfort in every trouble, let us continue in prayer. Let us be sure that no time is so well-spent in every day, as that which we spend upon our knees. Jesus hears us, and in his own good time will give an answer.

Let us remember this story, when we intercede for others. Those who have children, [or] whose conversion we desire? Those who have relatives and friends, about whose salvation we are anxious? Let us follow the example of this Canaanitish woman, and lay the state of their souls before Christ. 

Let us name their names before Him night and day, and never rest until we have an answer. We might have to wait a long time. We may seem to pray in vain, and intercede without profit. But let us never give up. 

Let us believe that Jesus is not changed, and that He who heard the Canaanitish mother, and granted her request, will also hear us, and one day give us an answer of peace.

Sunday, May 25, 2014

SUNDAY SACRAMENTS

“Six days shall work be done: but the seventh day is the sabbath of rest, an holy convocation; ye shall do no work therein: it is the sabbath of the Lord in all your dwellings” (Leviticus 23:3).

Today was the Sabbath day.
I experienced a rare joy and treat.

We wanted to attend church, as we do every Sunday, but today was one of the rare days we weren't able to avoid Sunday travel.

We try to plan to "rest," and usually can make arrangements to travel other days. If we absolutely must travel we do our best to remember Heavenly Father's great love for all His children, and the atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ. We therefore try to avoid doing anything that might cause another person to need to work instead of "rest," and have the chance to remember God in their own way.

This means filling with gas on Saturday night, paying for hotels etc in advance, and packing a lunch so we can avoid food purchases.

This morning, after sleeping soundly in a motel about half way to our destination, we located the nearest LDS buildings along our route. 

Most buildings have 3 Wards (sometimes called congregations in other churches) that meet at either 9 a.m., 11 a.m., or 1 p.m., so we decided to drive until about 10:30 and then turn off in the nearest town to attend Sacrament meeting.

As we entered the building, we could hear the sound of the organ accompanying the congregational hymn, "I Believe in Christ" (Hymn 134) to open the meeting. We slipped into a seat near the back of the chapel on a pew with space at one end. 

I found the familiar song a great comfort, especially as it immediately drew my mind to Jesus Christ, despite distractions such as two young missionaries with backpacks arriving soon after we were seated. 

On the stand the Bishop and a counselor looked at each other with questioning faces. They noticed we were not part of their usual flock. I looked around. The building was so typical. The people were so typical. The sights and sounds of Sunday were in them self a joyful experience - a sacrament for my soul in their own right. 

The Sacrament hymn was 173, "While of These Emblems We Partake." You could recognize your own Ward in almost any meeting any where in the world. As we prepared for the ordinance of the sacrament, I looked at the people. 

That alone was a joy. I absolutely almost chuckled aloud as I watched the white haired woman near the front patting a baby doll on her shoulder. It was clear she following directives from the owner of the barely-visible wisp of white-blond hair, and chubby fingers that were the only evidence of a young toddler beside her.

There was a young boy scooting along a partly empty bench, noisily vocalizing gibberish. His mother calmly, but quickly, retrieved and quieted him. His father, wearing a green shirt,  rocked a sleepy infant.  All are welcome at church - even noisy children, and those that may choose to follow different customs of dress or grooming. One of the young priests at the sacrament table had unusually long hair.  

You would notice the girl with the fancy braid in her long hair sitting in the pew two benches in front of us, and her sisters (or were they cousins?) some with braids, some without, but all careful dressed and groomed. 

A little girl in a sparkly dress with bouncing ringlets clearly knew she was gorgeous, and another in pink fluff and ballet slippers evidenced equal conviction. 

A lanky, young boy passing the sacrament trays had almost outgrown his 3 piece suit. Two men assisted the boys. When the Bishop excused them to sit with their families, one of the men sat by that growing boy and put an arm around his shoulders. 

A young couple cuddled off to the left, her head on his shoulder. Behind them a woman had a lesson manual and scriptures open. After a row of angelic looking children (two boys and two girls that looked as alike as blond Babuskas - each one just a bit smaller than another in the set), a woman twined colorful yarn with finger movements so discrete I wasn't sure what craft her handwork engaged.  

On the right a teen sat as far away from the rest of the family as the bench permitted. Behind her a middle-aged man bounced a baby on his knee. An older couple sat behind them smiling.

The rest hymn, "Oh May My Soul Commune With Thee" (123), again refreshed focus to the Savior. We talk of Christ, we sing of Christ, we teach of Christ. The talks also invited us to remember to follow the example of Jesus Christ. 

After a final hymn, "Who's On The Lord's Side Who?" (260) and benediction, we were again in the car with many hours left to travel. The sights and sounds, and feelings of delight from that meeting have remained with me all day. 

I can go anywhere in the world and find the same consistent patterns that lead me to reverence Christ, and pattern my life more like Him. I will hear and see families and individuals that remind me of that every person is one of God's children - my brother and my sister. 

Have you thought of an example of a typical "child of God" that I haven't mentioned? There were as many examples at church today as there were people in attendance. It lifted my heart. It made me smile.  

A loving omniscient Father watches over all. Every Sabbath, I am grateful to be able to refresh that joy in my mind.








Monday, May 19, 2014

BATTLES OF OBEDIENCE

The telephone rang Sunday morning. It was for me.

It was our Sunday School Gospel Doctrine teacher, “Can you please tell the story of Joshua and the battle of Jericho – in 1st person, as if you were there?”

(illustration from a Bible card published 190
by the Providence Lithograph Company)

I accepted, but I fight my own battles with such assignments.

I, like Joshua and the children of Israel, can also overcome.

Seated by my husband, I listened as the Sunday School lesson recounted multiple scriptural details covering Joshua 1-5. I pondered why the teacher picked me. Out a room full of more than 50 people, why would I be called?

Shaking visibly, I clutched a few notes, yet I stood.

And I spoke.

This is a story about obedience. 
I wondered how many of us are obedient.

In little daily everyday ways, am I obedient to God and his appointed servants - those called to serve Him, and me?

Site speculated as Jericho 

First I explained that I would speak, at the teacher's request, in first person. I paused, looked at the listeners and tried to imagine that the reason they were all looking at me was because I was from hundreds of years in the past, and had come to give them a message. As I spoke I looked directly at them. As I began I felt an unusual strength calm me. 

I knew I could testify of truth as found in the Bible. I know it is the word of God. I know we learn of Him as we read from its pages and listen to teachings there.

I spoke carefully. 

“My grandmother came out of Egypt. My mother told me many times about the 12 spies, a leader from each tribe, that brought back the the reports of a good land. The spies searched the land 40 days. My father saw the giant cluster of grape that was so large it had to be carried between 2 of them using a staff (Numbers 13:23).

But they were frightened when they heard how we were as grasshoppers compared to many of the people who were giants. They decided to go back to Egypt to save their children. I am of that  generation.

Moses and Aaron fell on their faces in fear of God. Joshua and Caleb rent their clothes and told everyone that the Lord would bring us into the land but, even though the people had seen many miracles, they tried to stone Joshua and Caleb. (Numbers 13 and 14).

For 40 years, one year for each day of searching, Israel wandered in the wilderness for this rebellion. They were told that everyone that was disobedient could never see the promised land, but that God would bring their 'little ones . . . [and] they shall know the land" (Numbers 14:22-23; 31-33).

I was one of those little ones.

Our spies were almost caught. They only escaped because Rahab, the harlot, hid them and let them out her window over the wall.

Rahab, The Harlot of Jericho
by J James Tissot

I crossed the river Jordan and saw the twelve stones gathered and placed as God instructed Joshua. We followed about a kilometer behind the priests carrying the Ark of the Covenant and saw the waters pile up. We camped safely on that side of the river because the people were so afraid when they saw how God helped us.

After we left Egypt the men weren't circumcised anymore. Joshua insisted all the males be circumcised. We were encamped on the plains of Jericho, at Gilgal, until everyone was strong and well. (Joshua 5:1-8).

The day after we kept the Passover, on the 14th day of the month, we ate cakes made from the old corn of the land. The next morning, for the 1st time in 40 years there was no manna. Since then we have eaten the fruit of the good land.

Joshua talked with the captain of the Host of the Lord, and was taught how to conquer Jericho. They had closed up this stronghold; no one came out or went into the city.

 At first it seemed like we weren't really a threat to such a fortification.

The Seven Trumpets of Jericho by J James Tissot

Early in the morning the armed men gathered to follow Joshua’s instructions to march all the way around the city. They were followed by seven priests, each with a ram’s horn. The priests  continually blowing the trumpets were right in front of the Ark of the Covenant.

The Taking of Jericho by J James Tissot

Joshua commanded the people to be completely silent, not speaking at all, until the day when he would command us all to shout.

The trumpets were loud even from where we watched. Every day for 6 days we saw and heard this.  And each day all the men and the priests with the Ark of the Covenant returned to camp. What was the plan? When would Joshua command us to shout? And what would happen then?

On the 7th day Joshua roused everyone earlier than usual. He warned the armed men that when they conquered the city they were to take nothing. Everything and everyone there was cursed. They were to only save Rahab, the harlot that helped the spies, and her household. My friends and I thought she should have been stoned. Why were those men in her house anyway? I suppose people there commonly saw strangers enter her home.

By dawn the men were already marching, their weapons ready. As usual, they silently went all the way around the city. This time, instead of coming back to camp, they kept going. They went around and around and around. Seven times they marched around the city, and then - finally - at the seventh time Joshua commanded, ‘Shout; for the Lord hath given you the city.’ 

Joshua at the Walls of Jericho
by James Edwin McConnell
We all shouted!

‘So the people shouted when the priests blew with the trumpets: and it came to pass, when the people heard the sound of the trumpet, and the people shouted with a great shout, that the wall fell down flat, so that the people went up into the city, every man straight before him, and they took the city. And they utterly destroyed all that was in the city, both man and woman, young and old, and ox, and sheep, and ass, with the edge of the sword’ (Joshua 6: 20-21).”

Aerial view of Jericho showing ruins of Tell es-Sultan
circa 1990

This battle was won by obedience to God, and his prophet's leadership.

All my battles are won likewise.

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

5 GENERATION PEDIGREE and FAN CHART

In my family history class we are required to submit and then post on a blog a pedigree showing 5 generations. Remember that there is similar class available FREE online at Family History Lab 261 from BYU. It may not be exactly the same as my class, but it appears to be mostly the same course of study. If you want to learn family history, this class has the introductory basics.


We are also asked to prepare a 4 generation fan chart showing our ancestors. I am in the process of documenting each important event (birth, marriage, children, and death) for each person on these charts and posting stories and photos and other fun details of their lives. Search for them by entering their name in the search box at the top left, or peruse the index pages above.


These charts can be easily prepared on Family Tree in the Family Search website, and may be printed at most local LDS Family History Libraries for free, (check your closest location here).

There is lots of fun stuff there to see and do (be sure to check out all the photos and stories people are adding); tutorials to help understand how to do practically everything (be sure to click on the green circle icons there); and lists of ways to volunteer to help in worldwide projects (such as indexing) that involve multiple countries, languages, and organizations.

There are also helpful, knowledgeable people staffing each local library that will teach you almost everything you need to know about family history. They will guide you through the many options, resources, and tutorials, and sometimes work with you as you research.

Note: Family History Libraries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints offer many family history resources at no cost - that's right absolutely FREE (even some that are available commercially).

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

READING, WRITING, AND ARITHMETIC: MY SCHOOL YEARS

My first grade teacher’s name was Mrs. Green. My mother later told me that when I was a young child I had an imaginary playmate named Mrs. Green. Mom said I talked to her often, pretended to have tea together, and that I often talked about our adventures. Mom always felt that having a 1st grade teacher named Mrs. Green helped me make a transition that was difficult for many children. Most children of that time did not attend kindergarten. It was not included in “public” education.

Summer AGE 5

I started school the September I was age 5, and finished my school years the spring after I turned 16.
About AGE 16
School was wonderful. I loved almost everything we did, and each day could hardly wait to get there. My siblings and I rode the huge, yellow school bus to “town” from the rural area south of Cardston, Alberta, Canada. Cardston was about 10 miles away from our home, but the route began in the hills south of Kimball (an extinct village) where I lived, and went to each farm along the gravel roads converging onto the main highway leading to town. One year, out of the 50 or so students the bus picked up, there were 10 from our family boarding. The other kids loved to chant a count as we got on and off the bus—“1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10!” The teasing was not mean-spirited at all, but my older brothers sometimes seemed embarrassed. The drivers always knew if we were all present and accounted for, or if anyone was ill or missing school for any other reason.

Although more modern, this bus is about the same length.
I loved riding in the back seat of the bus. When it went over a big bump (like a texas gate) I would bounce right into the air. Usually big kids were back there but eventually they were mostly dropped off, and then my friend Jacqui Rothe and I could sit back there and bounce. We would giggle and giggle until the driver would frown at us. And no matter how many times we were told not to bounce, we just couldn't resist!

READING: I love reading! It was my heart’s desire from as long as I can remember. In September 1960, I got a chance to start school. First I had to pass a test.

Since I was so young, not yet to my 6th birthday, the test was required to demonstrate my school readiness. I felt so privileged to be permitted to sit in a school desk, but a bit nervous about my mother not being with me. I was still very much attached to her, but didn’t want to be called a “baby” by my brothers. She told me she would wait right outside the classroom door, with the other parents, until after the test.

The teacher, Mrs. Green, gave us each a “test” consisting of several pages with pictures in groups of 4. I was with a small group of other boys and girls also taking the test. She instructed us kindly, and thoroughly, about procedures. She would ask a question, describe a row of pictures and we would circle the “correct” picture to answer her question. She had a helper that assisted her watching to make sure we were following along properly. They walked up and down the rows to ensure no one was confused, and that we had all answered each question.

I don’t really remember the picture questions, but I thought I did very well. They all seemed so simple to me. I was asked to wait to talk with the teacher and my mom afterwards. I wondered if it was because I was as smart as my parents thought, or if I had done something wrong. When all the other children and parents were gone, the teacher first talked to mom and then called me into the room and began to go through the test, question by question. I stood beside her, seated at her desk, and could see her face to face.

The one question I can remember was about 4 animals. I was to circle the picture that was not the same as the others, one that was different. There was a picture of a lion, a tiger, a bear, and a kitten. I grew up on a farm and the answer was obvious to me. The kitten was tame and the other animals were wild animals. I was absolutely incredulous that my answer was wrong. The teacher tried to explain that the lion, tiger, and kitten were all the same (because they were cats), and the bear was the correct answer. That made me cranky. That was ridiculous! My mother explained to me that there could be more than one answer, and helped me accept that another answer could be about big and small: the kitten was a baby and the other animals were “big” adults. I could accept that. She was “wrong,” too, and made better sense.

We went through quite a few more questions the teacher had wrong [in my young mind]. After I talked to Mrs. Green about the test, my mother and Mrs. Green met privately again. Except that I badly wanted to read, I was no longer too excited to go school; my day had been long and tiring. Apparently I had failed the test, but after her discussion with me, and with my mother, Mrs. Green recommended that I should begin 1st grade. She explained to my mother that I could state and defend my reasoning, and that mostly my answers were at least as “correct” as the answer key, and in some cases more so. Learning that questions have more than one “right” answer, and that I should try to think of all the possibilities began a significant change in my perspectives of others and the world around me. So began my school years.

WRITING: Pencils were not my favorite things. I didn't mind small pencils, but our big, red pencils were almost half an inch in diameter and their length and width made them heavy in my little hands. I still prefer smaller pencils; half-length is perfect. I was small for my age; in fact, for many years the smallest in my class until Wendi Wilson moved in.

I found an similar old scribbler for beginning printing.
I learned to print, using scribbler pages lined in triplicate sets. The center line of each set was dashed. The scribblers were made specifically for learning how to form letters, below and above lines. Someone pointed out that it was as easy to print neatly as to make a mess and my father encouraged good penmanship. I remember an epiphany-like experience the day my father demonstrated how to “fix” an error without the need to redo all my work. I would sit for hours practicing the strokes and curves of “perfect” letters and cry in frustration when I discovered a mistake several letters or lines previous to where I was working. I wanted it to be right AND pretty. Dad showed me how to change a 6 to an 8 by just drawing over the circles to complete the top of the 8. He knew many “tricks” to help repair ‘problems’ and my printing began to improve and go more smoothly.

As an adult I attended Lethbridge Community College drafting program and learned the formal art of lettering. I did so well that I was recommended for employment doing hand lettering on legal legends (on linen), and in the spring of 1979 I dropped out of my program to work for Brown, Okamura, and Associates at about ten dollars per hour as a junior drafts-person; an excellent wage for that time.

ARITHMETIC: I never could understand why arithmetic couldn't just be called math, or vice-versa. I loved elementary school math but did not do well in high school. It always felt like the rules were changing.

wooden 'spoons' like these were common
with small cups of ice-cream at social events 
In first grade we had small wooden spoons, and other objects, that we counted and grouped. I could have spent all day every day counting but we had to take turns. One day the teacher had to explain to me that other children might also want to count the spoons too. I knew (I was positive) most of them didn't really like it as much as I did and reasoned I should have longer turns. Mrs. Green wisely diverted my attention to reading—did I mention I love reading?

front cover of book

In 4th grade I won a prize, from my teacher Mrs. Shields, for the most books read—a book, of course, titled “Long Lonesome Train Whistle.”

A  page spread inside. 
In first grade, one day while counting spoons, a large sliver wedged itself into the left side of the middle finger on my right hand. The teacher and the school nurse did their best to remove it, but it was very sore and I had to wait until late in the afternoon to go home on the bus. (Our family did not always have an automobile or a phone, and gasoline was a major expense.) When I got home my mother couldn't get it all out, and later when my father got home he also had difficulty. I think a piece of that sliver remains in that finger to this day. It is just above the fingernail and below the knuckle. I have an unusual grip when I write because that area was so tender for so many years. Many people get a “writer’s bump” from the pressure of pen or pencil to their middle finger. A swollen lump formed on that finger where the sore from the sliver healed and has never gone away; so my “bump” happens to be where that sliver was.

Arithmetic and I often seem to have a less than positive relationship. It started young. I am attending college presently, and yes I am taking math classes. I still find many answers ridiculous. This semester I have needed to email my teacher almost every week. I still dispute answers and the sense of many things I encounter. Math is math—or rather arithmetic!

My patriarchal blessing promises that I will be able to complete my education to my entire satisfaction. I have always thought that would be impossible outside the eternities, yet technology and programs like “Pathways” breathe life into dreams and hopes long since laid aside. I love to learn. I love to study. Many of my ancestors have lived long and healthy lives. I could live almost as many more years as I already have. What will I study next?

Decisions, decisions, decisions! What a wonderful dilemma to enjoy.

Friday, April 4, 2014

SOON!! SAVE THE DATE


Saturday and Sunday, 5-6 April 2014

The 184th Annual General Conference
of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints


Tulips bloom on Temple Square during the April 2013 general conference.

Living Apostles and Prophets will speak.

You are invited, I am invited.
We all can hear, and see!
What a marvel!!

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

PERSONAL HISTORY INDEX


0 – 5 YEARS:
     Four No More
     Hope
     Shoes

5-16 SCHOOL YEARS:
     9X9
     Dear Avalin (reading)
     Eight
     Fox and Geese
     Greener Grass
     In The Middle
     It's What's Inside
     Pretend

17- 27 YOUNG ADULT: 
     In the Hall

ACTIVITIES:
     Knitting Up
     Love Hate canning
     Turkey Treats
     Yes I Did
     
AGING:
     20/20
     20/20 Sequel
     Ageless
     Cold Feet
     Curl
     Essay: Issues of Technology
     In the Middle like my mother
     Old

ANCESTORS:
     5 Generation Pedigree and Fan Chart
     Campbell/Bohne
     Forsyth/Hatch
   
ASPIRATIONS:
     Hyacinths
     Life Goals
     Three "C"s
     Titles

CHILDREN:
     35 minutes, 5 seconds
     Exponential Expectation
     My Babies

CHURCH SERVICE:
     Like A Weed

COLLEGE:
     Clay, Marbles, and More

EVENTS / HOLIDAYS:
     144 Years
     4th July
     April Fools
     Ca-Na-Da
     Canada Celebrations
     Christmas Spirits
     Without Country
     
GRAND PRAIRIE YEARS:

ILLNESS:
     Confidence
     I Believe
     It's Not Raining Yet
     Never By Myself
     No Miracle
     Reassured
     Sing In the Darkness
     Songs in My Heart
     T-M-I
     Trial: Knowing Self

JOBS:

LETHBRIDGE YEARS:

MARRIAGE:
     Just Because

MOSES LAKE YEARS:

OMAK/OKANOGAN YEARS:

PROVO YEARS:

PORTLAND YEAR:

RELIGION:
     Absitively Posolutely
     Faith
     Hope
     I Believe (in Christ)
     Knowing and Believing
     Only A Boy
     Perfect

VOLUNTEER OPPORTUNITIES:





Monday, March 31, 2014

FORSYTH PERSONAL HISTORY INDEX


Forsyth Family Coat of Arms
REPAIRER OF RUIN


Forsyth Progenitors:

5. Father's Paternal Great-Grandfather 
    KWJD-HLG
    History
    Marriage
    Death

               4. Father's Paternal Grandfather 
                   George James Forsyth 
                    KWC1-KYV
                    History
                    Marriage
                    Death

5. Father's Paternal Great-Grandmother 
    Isabella Donald 
     KWJB-FRY
     History
     Death

                  3. Paternal Grandfather 
                                 Neil Snow Forsyth 
                                  KWCF-1R4
                                  History
                                   I Love To See The Temple
                                  Mission
                                  Marriage
                                  Magrath Years
                                  World War I
                                  Cardston Years
                                  World War II
                                  Remembering
                                  2nd Marriage
                                  Death

5. Father's Paternal Great-Grandfather
    William Snow
     KWN2-HVP
     History
     Marriage
     Death

               4. Father's Paternal Grandmother 
                   Sarah Sophronia SNOW  
                    KWJ6-M1G
                    History
                    Death

5. Father's Paternal Great-Grandmother
    Sally Adams
     KWNT-R83
     History
     Death


                                              2. Father 
                                         Garth Dean Forsyth
                                          KW8K-MKH
                                                5 December 1927
                                                  Cardston Years 
                                                 (birth, family journal entries)
                                                  20/20
                                                  20/20 Sequel
                                                  62 and Counting
                                                  65 Years
                                                  Act or Be Acted Upon
                                                  Babies
                                                  Building
                                                  Cackle-berries
                                                  Dear Dad
                                                  Don't Fence Me In
                                                  Education Inspiration
                                                  Family Pictures
                                                  Gifts
                                                 Hello Beautiful! 
                                                  Ruts
                                                  Songs My Parents Sang
                                                  Taller
                                                  Where? [did Dad work]
                                

5. Father's Maternal Great-Grandfather
    KWNK-LD7 
    History
    Marriage
    Death

               4. Father's Maternal Grandfather 
                    Thomas Hatch  
                     KWC5-6WP
                     History
                     Land Titles
                     Marriage
                     Death

5. Father's Maternal Great-Grandmother
     K2WN-7WM
     History
     Death

                             3. Paternal Grandmother 
                                 Chloe Roseltha Hatch  
                                 KWCF-1RH
                                 History
                                  It's What's Inside
                                 Death
                                  Transcription of her
                                     brother, Victor Hatch

5. Father's Maternal Great-Grandfather
    KWC3-BV6
    History
    Marriage
    Death
                                     
               3. Father's Maternal Grandmother 
                   Viola Melissa Pearce 
                   KWC5-6W5
                   History
                   Death

5. Father's Maternal Great-Grandmother
    KWJZ-JYH
    History
    Death

REPAIRER OF RUIN
Forsyth Family Crest
Miscellaneous:
Golden Weddings
Journal Junction
Stinketh Not

Other Relatives:
Hatch, Victor and Susan - Transcription: Laughin'