I taught the Freshman class for the third time this week. Last week, one of the young men suggested that the class teach seminary. The regular seminary teacher agreed that they could each do a mini-lesson on a subject of their choosing. She called to let me know that Wednesday was the day.
Hurray! I didn't have to prepare a lesson! (Of course, I did have a back-up plan in case we finished early.)
On Monday I reminded the class about their mini-teaching assignment. Some of the students looked at me blankly. This did not look promising.
On Tuesday, I gave each student a handout with suggestions on how to prepare a mini-lesson. It read:
Topic:
Scripture or quote from General Authority:
Personal Experience or Story:
Conclusion (may include your testimony):
There was much moaning and groaning and gnashing of teeth when they realized they would REALLY HAVE TO TEACH!
As the students left the class, I reminded them once again that I was looking forward to their mini-lessons the next day.
One young man said, "I'm going to talk about pornography."
Another young man said, "I am going to talk about pornography, too."
A third and a fourth young man said, "That's what I want to talk about, also."
I sweetly smiled. (I knew they were looking for a reaction and I was NOT going to give them one.) "That's fine. But remember, you must use a scripture or a quote from a General Authority, share a story or a personal experience, and have a conclusion." They looked slightly chagrined.
Today, two young men (not four) did talk about pornography. They shared either a quote from President Hinckley or read from "For the Strength of Youth." They each shared a personal experience where they were at a friend's house and either saw an inappropriate web site or an inappropriate movie. They each shared a conclusion and one shared his testimony.
Even though they chose this topic as an attention getter, I am proud of them for doing so well! And if reading the counsel from a prophet of God strengthens them or members of the class, I would say that it was a success!
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Smoke Gets in My Eyes
When Christie and Heather were very young, we had a neighbor who became our "Stockton Grandma." Sister Holsworth lived a couple of houses down the street. She had a cat named "Baby Girl" and a dog whose name I don't remember. We didn't have pets yet and Christie absolutely loved visiting Sister Holsworth's home and playing with her pets. There were a couple of mornings when the doorbell would ring--very early in the morning I might add--and there was Sister Holworth standing on the doorstep with Christie beside her. Sometimes Christie would still be wearing her nightgown, her bare little feet curled from touching the cold concrete. She had slipped out of the house to visit her special friends. I would thank Sister Holsworth for bringing her back home and try to help Christie understand that we didn't visit people before breakfast. I'm sure Sister Holsworth wondered what kind of parent I was at times.
We had Sister Holsworth over for dinner occasionally. We sat near her at church. At least twice we had her over for our Christmas Eve festivities--a special dinner and acting out the nativity. We were not only neighbors, but became good friends.
When Heather was about a year old and Christie was about five, Sister Holsworth asked me to drive her to the Sacramento airport. She said we could take her car. I'm sure she suspected that we didn't have a lot of money to pay for an extra tank of gas. I was a little nervous about driving to Sacramento with two little girls--the trip up wouldn't be so bad but returning home without an extra adult was going to be a little trickier. Yet, Sister Holsworth was my friend and I was happy to help out.
The appointed day came. Her car was unusual. It looked like a car but it had only one long bench seat with a covered cab in back. It was a mixture of a car and a truck. There were only three seat belts in the car and four passengers. This was before the very strict seat belt laws so I sat in the driver's seat, Heather was strapped into her car seat which was in the middle, and Sister Holsworth held Christie on her lap.
Soon after I entered Highway 5 I noticed the car seemed sluggish. I pushed down on the accelerator. Nothing happened. In fact, we started going even slower.
"Something's wrong, " I said. "We are losing power." I carefully pulled over to the shoulder of the road. As soon as I stopped, thick, dark smoke filled the cab. I literally could not see the other passengers in the car! Flames were shooting out of the hood. The car was on fire!
Sister Holsworth opened her door and pushed Christie off her lap. She fell in a heap on the ground and began crying. Meanwhile, I was trying to unbuckle Heather from her car seat. I was struggling to undo the latch as we were breathing in smoke. Sister Holsworth was finally able to free Heather and I grabbed her and exited the other door. Before our eyes her car was in flames. A truck driver going the opposite direction on Highway 5 stopped, ran across all the lanes of the freeway with a fire extinguisher in an attempt to put the fire out. It was too late. The car was a total loss.
After the CHP arrived, he placed us safely in his car and then called Ron at work to come and pick us up. Sister Holsworth never did make it to the airport that day. I don't know if she ever found out why her car suddenly caught on fire either. The situation caused a few nightmares, but I was extremely grateful that we were all safe. I was also very grateful that Sister Holsworth--with her arthritic hands was able to get Heather out of her car seat when my own nerves made it practically impossible.
And so in the Spirit of Thanksgiving--thank you, Sister Holsworth. Wherever you are.
We had Sister Holsworth over for dinner occasionally. We sat near her at church. At least twice we had her over for our Christmas Eve festivities--a special dinner and acting out the nativity. We were not only neighbors, but became good friends.
When Heather was about a year old and Christie was about five, Sister Holsworth asked me to drive her to the Sacramento airport. She said we could take her car. I'm sure she suspected that we didn't have a lot of money to pay for an extra tank of gas. I was a little nervous about driving to Sacramento with two little girls--the trip up wouldn't be so bad but returning home without an extra adult was going to be a little trickier. Yet, Sister Holsworth was my friend and I was happy to help out.
The appointed day came. Her car was unusual. It looked like a car but it had only one long bench seat with a covered cab in back. It was a mixture of a car and a truck. There were only three seat belts in the car and four passengers. This was before the very strict seat belt laws so I sat in the driver's seat, Heather was strapped into her car seat which was in the middle, and Sister Holsworth held Christie on her lap.
Soon after I entered Highway 5 I noticed the car seemed sluggish. I pushed down on the accelerator. Nothing happened. In fact, we started going even slower.
"Something's wrong, " I said. "We are losing power." I carefully pulled over to the shoulder of the road. As soon as I stopped, thick, dark smoke filled the cab. I literally could not see the other passengers in the car! Flames were shooting out of the hood. The car was on fire!
Sister Holsworth opened her door and pushed Christie off her lap. She fell in a heap on the ground and began crying. Meanwhile, I was trying to unbuckle Heather from her car seat. I was struggling to undo the latch as we were breathing in smoke. Sister Holsworth was finally able to free Heather and I grabbed her and exited the other door. Before our eyes her car was in flames. A truck driver going the opposite direction on Highway 5 stopped, ran across all the lanes of the freeway with a fire extinguisher in an attempt to put the fire out. It was too late. The car was a total loss.
After the CHP arrived, he placed us safely in his car and then called Ron at work to come and pick us up. Sister Holsworth never did make it to the airport that day. I don't know if she ever found out why her car suddenly caught on fire either. The situation caused a few nightmares, but I was extremely grateful that we were all safe. I was also very grateful that Sister Holsworth--with her arthritic hands was able to get Heather out of her car seat when my own nerves made it practically impossible.
And so in the Spirit of Thanksgiving--thank you, Sister Holsworth. Wherever you are.
Monday, November 15, 2010
White Hair is Not a Requirement
Last Friday morning I woke up at 3:20 am because I wanted to--not because I had insomnia. After getting ready for the day I was out the door by 4:35 am. I met up with my mom and Jack and we then got in their car to drive to the Oakland Temple. It was my first day of being a set apart temple volunteer and I was excited!
After the short, but interesting preparation meeting, I was given a short orientation and then my assignment began. My main duty is to help welcome men and women to the temple and answer any questions they might have. I actually had quite a few questions asked. I hope I answered them all correctly!
I have always enjoyed attending the temple and one reason is how friendly and kind everyone is. Now I am one of those temple workers! I am following in the footsteps of my mother, my mother-in-law, and my aunt. I am so glad I have this opportunity to serve in the temple.
P.S. White hair is not a requirement!
After the short, but interesting preparation meeting, I was given a short orientation and then my assignment began. My main duty is to help welcome men and women to the temple and answer any questions they might have. I actually had quite a few questions asked. I hope I answered them all correctly!
I have always enjoyed attending the temple and one reason is how friendly and kind everyone is. Now I am one of those temple workers! I am following in the footsteps of my mother, my mother-in-law, and my aunt. I am so glad I have this opportunity to serve in the temple.
P.S. White hair is not a requirement!
Friday, November 12, 2010
A Tale of Early Morning Seminary
Tuesday night I was in the church kitchen cleaning up after our ward's Young Women Evening in Excellence. It had been a wonderful father-daughter night of "fine dining," dancing, and a very entertaining skit but I was tired and ready to go home.
Suddenly, two young men burst through the kitchen doors. They were probably in search of "free food." They saw me and their eyes lit up.
"We hear you are going to teach our seminary class next week!" one of them said.
"Yes, I am. I get to teach your class four times next week!" I replied.
"Cool! We're so excited!" the other one replied.
I just grinned ear to ear. That made me feel so good! As the "new kid on the block" in this ward, I am trying so hard to get to know the adults and the youth. I'm glad that I've made a favorable impression on at least a couple of kids.
Now, let's back up a few weeks to see how this all started....
Sunday, October 17
We had Daniel, Shauna and their two daughters over for dinner. The phone was ringing off the hook that evening--an unusual occurrence in our home right now. The phone rang again. It was for me. A Brother Dickson from the High Counsel wanted to meet with me that evening. I had just been called to serve as the ward Young Women secretary a week earlier so I wondered what it could be about. Since Daniel is on the High Counsel, I asked him what Brother Dickson's assignment was .
He answered, "There are two Brother Dickson's on the High Counsel. One is over Facilities and one is over Seminary. It's highly unlikely that you are going to be called to work in Facilities."
I was shocked. The school and seminary year had already started. Why would they need a new seminary teacher?
About two hours later, Ron and I sat across the table from Brother Dickson as he called me to serve as an "on-call substitute teacher." I could end up subbing for any of the four classes in our building. Of course I said, "Yes." I was excited, but a little nervous, too. He asked me to call the seminary principal the next day and let her know I accepted.
The following day I called a very nice woman and she told me how grateful she was that I said "yes." Then she asked me to substitute for her on Election Day because she is a poll worker and four more days in November when she and her husband would be going out of town.
She then told me, "I have a very challenging class. But, maybe they'll be OK for you."
Great. She has a challenging class. I don't know many of the youth. How would they treat an unknown person? Now I was really nervous.
I spoke to the Mia Maid Counselor in my ward and asked about the young woman this age.
"Oh," she said. "You have some real challenges in this age group."
Now, I was really scared!
I carefully prepared my lesson, said a lot of prayers, and hoped for the best.
Tuesday, November 2.
I tossed and turned all night--dreading the morning. I woke up at 1:00 am but was finally able to go back to sleep. When I woke up at 2:00 am, I laid awake until it was time to get out of bed at 5:00. My stomach was churning. I really, really wondered how it was going to go.
Before leaving for church, I read a chapter in the Book of Mormon to help put me in the right spirit and said my prayers. Then, it was time to face this "challenging class."
As each student arrived, I greeted them, asked them their name and which high school and ward they attended. We started a little late because of the late drifters. After the devotional, I opened up with a story about Lucy Mack Smith praying with a group of saints that the ice would break so they could travel on a barge down a frozen canal from New York to Ohio. If there is one thing I am good at, it's telling a story. They listened to me.
The rest of the morning flew by. Before I knew it, it was time for the closing prayer. As they filed out they said things like "We learned something today!" "Thanks for being our teacher!"
It was the positive reinforcement I needed.
But the cherry on the top was definitely a week later when two freshman boys told me they were excited about me teaching seminary the following week. I hope I don't let them down! And I am so grateful that prayers were answered and I was given divine help.
Suddenly, two young men burst through the kitchen doors. They were probably in search of "free food." They saw me and their eyes lit up.
"We hear you are going to teach our seminary class next week!" one of them said.
"Yes, I am. I get to teach your class four times next week!" I replied.
"Cool! We're so excited!" the other one replied.
I just grinned ear to ear. That made me feel so good! As the "new kid on the block" in this ward, I am trying so hard to get to know the adults and the youth. I'm glad that I've made a favorable impression on at least a couple of kids.
Now, let's back up a few weeks to see how this all started....
Sunday, October 17
We had Daniel, Shauna and their two daughters over for dinner. The phone was ringing off the hook that evening--an unusual occurrence in our home right now. The phone rang again. It was for me. A Brother Dickson from the High Counsel wanted to meet with me that evening. I had just been called to serve as the ward Young Women secretary a week earlier so I wondered what it could be about. Since Daniel is on the High Counsel, I asked him what Brother Dickson's assignment was .
He answered, "There are two Brother Dickson's on the High Counsel. One is over Facilities and one is over Seminary. It's highly unlikely that you are going to be called to work in Facilities."
I was shocked. The school and seminary year had already started. Why would they need a new seminary teacher?
About two hours later, Ron and I sat across the table from Brother Dickson as he called me to serve as an "on-call substitute teacher." I could end up subbing for any of the four classes in our building. Of course I said, "Yes." I was excited, but a little nervous, too. He asked me to call the seminary principal the next day and let her know I accepted.
The following day I called a very nice woman and she told me how grateful she was that I said "yes." Then she asked me to substitute for her on Election Day because she is a poll worker and four more days in November when she and her husband would be going out of town.
She then told me, "I have a very challenging class. But, maybe they'll be OK for you."
Great. She has a challenging class. I don't know many of the youth. How would they treat an unknown person? Now I was really nervous.
I spoke to the Mia Maid Counselor in my ward and asked about the young woman this age.
"Oh," she said. "You have some real challenges in this age group."
Now, I was really scared!
I carefully prepared my lesson, said a lot of prayers, and hoped for the best.
Tuesday, November 2.
I tossed and turned all night--dreading the morning. I woke up at 1:00 am but was finally able to go back to sleep. When I woke up at 2:00 am, I laid awake until it was time to get out of bed at 5:00. My stomach was churning. I really, really wondered how it was going to go.
Before leaving for church, I read a chapter in the Book of Mormon to help put me in the right spirit and said my prayers. Then, it was time to face this "challenging class."
As each student arrived, I greeted them, asked them their name and which high school and ward they attended. We started a little late because of the late drifters. After the devotional, I opened up with a story about Lucy Mack Smith praying with a group of saints that the ice would break so they could travel on a barge down a frozen canal from New York to Ohio. If there is one thing I am good at, it's telling a story. They listened to me.
The rest of the morning flew by. Before I knew it, it was time for the closing prayer. As they filed out they said things like "We learned something today!" "Thanks for being our teacher!"
It was the positive reinforcement I needed.
But the cherry on the top was definitely a week later when two freshman boys told me they were excited about me teaching seminary the following week. I hope I don't let them down! And I am so grateful that prayers were answered and I was given divine help.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Traditions! Traditions!
What does it mean when you take a corn dog..
and add French Fries....
Add a tossed Green Salad....
And a lovely Green Jell-O salad....
And a delicious dessert?
It adds up to Emily's traditional Birthday Dinner.
Emily has chosen this SAME birthday dinner since she was three. She could choose anything she wants and she always chooses corn dogs, french fries, green salad, AND Green Jell-O.
Yum! Yum!
and add French Fries....
Add a tossed Green Salad....
And a lovely Green Jell-O salad....
And a delicious dessert?
It adds up to Emily's traditional Birthday Dinner.
Emily has chosen this SAME birthday dinner since she was three. She could choose anything she wants and she always chooses corn dogs, french fries, green salad, AND Green Jell-O.
Yum! Yum!
Oh...It's THAT Card!
Yesterday I was dashing around like a mad woman trying to finish the preparations for Emily's birthday. She was very specific in what she wanted for her birthday dinner and I was not able to find a couple common ingredients at the first store I went to. Or at Costco. In fact I went to THREE grocery stores to find a chocolate pie crust. In the amount of time it took to drive to those three stores, I could have bought Oreo cookies and made my own pie crust...
At the last grocery store, I was beyond the point of exhaustion. It had been a marathon errand day. Post office. Music store. Library. Kohls. Grocery Store 1. Costco. Grocery Store 2. Another store to pick up a final gift. Finally I stopped at Safeway.
I only picked up two things at Safeway--Fuji apples which were on sale and the Oreo pie crust. The lines were long. I thought, "I will do the self checkout."
Would you believe I needed assistance THREE times for two items?
The first time I needed assistance was really not my fault. The woman in front of me canceled her transaction and a friendly Safeway employee had to clear the scanning machine.
I scanned the Oreo pie crust. It was on sale if I used my club card. The machine asked me to scan my card. Obediently I did so. I like a sale!
I then placed the Fuji apples on the checkout scanner. There was no bar code so I had to find the correct produce and choose that option on the touchscreen. The apples were on sale for 78 cents a pound. Yet, the machine showed that they were $1.98. I called the friendly Safeway employee over and pointed out the error.
"Look," she said pointing at the screen, "They deducted part of the price reflecting the sale price because you used your Safeway Club Card."
Oh. I felt a little embarrassed. Because I was flustered, I placed the apples on the shelf next to the bag instead of IN the bag. I didn't think it mattered. Apparently it mattered.
"Unauthorized item on shelf. Please make sure you scan item."
Or something to that affect.
I quickly put my apples in the bag. I then told the machine I was done and needed to pay for my purchases. The machine gave me several options for payment. I pushed the debit/credit option. It told me to slide my card. I did. It told me to type in my pin. I did.
"Unauthorized transaction," the machine said. "Please see employee for assistance."
"That's strange," I thought. I KNOW I have money in my account. "Maybe I pushed the wrong button."
So, I tried it again.
I pushed the debit/credit button, swiped my card, typed in my pin.
"Unauthorized transaction. Please see employee for assistance."
"What?" I motioned to the friendly Safeway employee for the third time and then I looked down at my card. I was swiping my Safeway Club Card instead of my debit card! Quickly, I changed the card before the friendly Safeway employee came over. She walked me through the transaction and Voila! It worked.
It's amazing what using the right card will do!
At the last grocery store, I was beyond the point of exhaustion. It had been a marathon errand day. Post office. Music store. Library. Kohls. Grocery Store 1. Costco. Grocery Store 2. Another store to pick up a final gift. Finally I stopped at Safeway.
I only picked up two things at Safeway--Fuji apples which were on sale and the Oreo pie crust. The lines were long. I thought, "I will do the self checkout."
Would you believe I needed assistance THREE times for two items?
The first time I needed assistance was really not my fault. The woman in front of me canceled her transaction and a friendly Safeway employee had to clear the scanning machine.
I scanned the Oreo pie crust. It was on sale if I used my club card. The machine asked me to scan my card. Obediently I did so. I like a sale!
I then placed the Fuji apples on the checkout scanner. There was no bar code so I had to find the correct produce and choose that option on the touchscreen. The apples were on sale for 78 cents a pound. Yet, the machine showed that they were $1.98. I called the friendly Safeway employee over and pointed out the error.
"Look," she said pointing at the screen, "They deducted part of the price reflecting the sale price because you used your Safeway Club Card."
Oh. I felt a little embarrassed. Because I was flustered, I placed the apples on the shelf next to the bag instead of IN the bag. I didn't think it mattered. Apparently it mattered.
"Unauthorized item on shelf. Please make sure you scan item."
Or something to that affect.
I quickly put my apples in the bag. I then told the machine I was done and needed to pay for my purchases. The machine gave me several options for payment. I pushed the debit/credit option. It told me to slide my card. I did. It told me to type in my pin. I did.
"Unauthorized transaction," the machine said. "Please see employee for assistance."
"That's strange," I thought. I KNOW I have money in my account. "Maybe I pushed the wrong button."
So, I tried it again.
I pushed the debit/credit button, swiped my card, typed in my pin.
"Unauthorized transaction. Please see employee for assistance."
"What?" I motioned to the friendly Safeway employee for the third time and then I looked down at my card. I was swiping my Safeway Club Card instead of my debit card! Quickly, I changed the card before the friendly Safeway employee came over. She walked me through the transaction and Voila! It worked.
It's amazing what using the right card will do!
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
911...What's Your Emergency?
I've only had to call 911 three times in my life. The first time was when I was 18 years old and working at a grocery store. We had a "situation" and because I had a phone in the bakery department that was out of sight of the "bad guy" one of my co-workers urgently asked me to call 911. I remember having a very hard time not breaking down as I asked for police help. The 911 Operator was very professional and helped keep me calm until the police arrived and arrested our unwanted visitor.
The second time I called 911 was when my daughters were young. We were pre-heating the oven to bake some cookies--some luscious chocolate chip cookies. Suddenly, we noticed that there was a fire in the oven. No, the cookies were not on fire. There were NO cookies in the oven yet. It was an electric fire where the element was having "issues." I quickly called 911. (I can't say I was any calmer this time than I was the first as I envisioned my house burning down.) I then ran into my bedroom closet and shut off the circuit to the oven. A few minutes later, the fire engine's loud sirens grew closer and closer. Three burly firemen, one with an AX came running into my house. I envisioned them knocking holes in my walls.
"It's a LITTLE fire," I yelled. "Right now it's just in the oven."
Slowly, the fireman lowered his ax. They checked out the oven. They made sure I had correctly turned off the correct circuit. The fire was put out and they advised me to buy a new heating element for the oven.
I thanked them profusely and I was very grateful that there were no new "openings" in my walls.
The third time I called 911 was a few years ago. We had installed a carbon monoxide detector. It suddenly went off.
"Great," I thought. "We are going to die or suffer brain damage!"
"Great," was my second thought, "Emily is going to be late for school."
I grabbed the cordless phone and went outside and called 911. I was a little calmer this time. No bad guys. No fire. Just an odorless gas trying to KILL us! Within a few minutes, the very loud sound of fire engines grew closer and closer. Neighbors came outside to see what the fuss was all about. I waved, a little embarrassed. Three burly firemen rushed into my house and began checking for carbon monoxide. They found no evidence of a problem, but did say that one of my smoke detectors was so old that is was basically useless. They replaced the smoke detector and were on their way. I could not figure out WHY the detector had gone off in the first place. A few days later, I figured it out. Whenever someone in the house used hair spray, the carbon monoxide detector went off. After this happened several times, I threw the detector away. How good could it be if it thought HAIR SPRAY was a deadly gas. A stinky gas, yes? A deadly gas? I hope not!
And those are my experiences calling 911. I'm very happy for the service but I hope I don't have to use it again in a very, very long time!
The second time I called 911 was when my daughters were young. We were pre-heating the oven to bake some cookies--some luscious chocolate chip cookies. Suddenly, we noticed that there was a fire in the oven. No, the cookies were not on fire. There were NO cookies in the oven yet. It was an electric fire where the element was having "issues." I quickly called 911. (I can't say I was any calmer this time than I was the first as I envisioned my house burning down.) I then ran into my bedroom closet and shut off the circuit to the oven. A few minutes later, the fire engine's loud sirens grew closer and closer. Three burly firemen, one with an AX came running into my house. I envisioned them knocking holes in my walls.
"It's a LITTLE fire," I yelled. "Right now it's just in the oven."
Slowly, the fireman lowered his ax. They checked out the oven. They made sure I had correctly turned off the correct circuit. The fire was put out and they advised me to buy a new heating element for the oven.
I thanked them profusely and I was very grateful that there were no new "openings" in my walls.
The third time I called 911 was a few years ago. We had installed a carbon monoxide detector. It suddenly went off.
"Great," I thought. "We are going to die or suffer brain damage!"
"Great," was my second thought, "Emily is going to be late for school."
I grabbed the cordless phone and went outside and called 911. I was a little calmer this time. No bad guys. No fire. Just an odorless gas trying to KILL us! Within a few minutes, the very loud sound of fire engines grew closer and closer. Neighbors came outside to see what the fuss was all about. I waved, a little embarrassed. Three burly firemen rushed into my house and began checking for carbon monoxide. They found no evidence of a problem, but did say that one of my smoke detectors was so old that is was basically useless. They replaced the smoke detector and were on their way. I could not figure out WHY the detector had gone off in the first place. A few days later, I figured it out. Whenever someone in the house used hair spray, the carbon monoxide detector went off. After this happened several times, I threw the detector away. How good could it be if it thought HAIR SPRAY was a deadly gas. A stinky gas, yes? A deadly gas? I hope not!
And those are my experiences calling 911. I'm very happy for the service but I hope I don't have to use it again in a very, very long time!
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