Sometimes I have wondered why two big family-oriented holidays should be so close on the calendar, but as I get older, I'm better able to see the wisdom of it. As a child I enjoyed the Thanksgiving traditions of food and family, but I wanted to hurry past it to get to the gift-giving season. Me-me-me. Gimme-gimme-gimme. (See my essay "Thanks But Gimme" in the archive.) Maturity has wiped out a lot of that bad attitude, and now I think that Thanksgiving, a time of gratitude, should extend all the way through Christmas. We are, after all, grateful for the Savior. We have Christmas so we can have Easter, which is the most important holiday of all. Gratitude should be the underpinning of all our celebrations.
This year our family is going to have a chance to make Christmas a gratitude occasion, too. Our New York kids are coming out to Utah at Thanksgiving and our whole family will be together for almost a week. Since they can't come back for Christmas, we decided to have ThanksMas. Thanksgiving and Christmas in one week should blend the two holidays together the way they ought to be. My goal, of course, as the Grandma/hostess is to make it memorable. With input from the others, menus and activities have been planned, and the plans continue to be tweaked. Some of the events during the week will be held at our house, and some at Daughter 2's house two streets away. Between the two houses we can sleep all 13 of us.
Thanksgiving includes a pie baking lesson from Grandma (the day before), and other cooperative feast preparation--everybody will have an assignment, from mashing potatoes to setting the table. Now that our five grandchildren are two teenagers, two preteens and one eight-year-old, they're all fairly independent and self-directed, and they like helping out, so getting dinner ready won't be that hard. And I have a few surprises I hope the kids will enjoy, including all the materials needed for them to put together a winter bird feeding station in my back yard.
For our Christmas celebration, we are blending Christmas Eve and Christmas Day traditions. I had hoped for a theme of "The 12 Days of Christmas," which quickly became "12 Hours," until Daughter 1 had a better idea yet--"Why not make it the 12 Gifts of Christmas?" she asked. Perfect! With a different activity every hour, a different "gift" we can enjoy together, gifts of tradition, food, family, service and remembering the Savior, we'll continue the gratitude theme. From decorating Grandma's Christmas tree to making cookies and fudge, to a service project, and the "gift" of lunch at their favorite fast food place, we will laugh and have fun together. We'll end the day with hot chocolate and a Christmas program arranged by Only Son. And at the end we'll love each other even more.
And the more I think and refine the plans, the more I realize that this is how Thanksgiving and Christmas ought to be--one seamless celebration of family and the Savior who binds us together--and I am sure this will be the best ThanksMas ever.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Monday, August 6, 2012
You Can't Hide Anything
Last Friday night we saw the Utah Shakespeare Festival production of Les Miserables, an audience favorite around the world for thirty years or more. Other than seeing a concert performance on PBS and hearing some of the solos independently, I have not seen a full stage production before. This one was simply produced, putting the emphasis on the music, the story, and the themes of forgiveness and redemption, and not on the razzle dazzle of fancy production values.
And the play-going experience was all the better for that choice. Not one voice disappointed. All the versatile actors in the company took multiple minor parts, and the orchestra provided the necessary solid underpinnings.
However, the most moving moment among many in the play was the performance of "Bring Him Home," a simple prayer with an unforgettable melody. Other performances I've heard of this song were technically correct and spectacularly executed. This one was different, however, because the singer of this prayer sang it in a way that made it clear to me that he was personally acquainted with prayer and its consequences. These are moments an audience member can cherish because they go deep into the soul and linger.
We love the Shakespeare Festival and try to see two or three plays every season. Moments like this one from Les Miserables keep us coming back.
And the play-going experience was all the better for that choice. Not one voice disappointed. All the versatile actors in the company took multiple minor parts, and the orchestra provided the necessary solid underpinnings.
However, the most moving moment among many in the play was the performance of "Bring Him Home," a simple prayer with an unforgettable melody. Other performances I've heard of this song were technically correct and spectacularly executed. This one was different, however, because the singer of this prayer sang it in a way that made it clear to me that he was personally acquainted with prayer and its consequences. These are moments an audience member can cherish because they go deep into the soul and linger.
We love the Shakespeare Festival and try to see two or three plays every season. Moments like this one from Les Miserables keep us coming back.
Saturday, July 7, 2012
My Land, My Flag, My Blessing
Singing the national anthem last Sunday in church brought me to tears, especially when I recalled a recent news item that quoted a radio talk show host who declared the anthem is gory, glorifies war, and should be replaced by something easier to sing. Well, the version in our hymnbook is in a fairly universal key, so I can check that complaint off the list.
Oh, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming,
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof thru the night that our flag was still there.
Oh say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?
It's clear to me, as I read the text of the poem, that the depictions of war in it are not there to glorify the destruction that was taking place. Francis Scott Key, who witnessed the battle of Fort McHenry, simply asked if the flag, the symbol of this intrepid experiment in self-government, still flew. And does it still fly over people willing to sacrifice for freedom?
When a citizen asked Benjamin Franklin what the Constitutional Convention had given the people, Franklin replied, "A republic, if you can keep it." We are naive if we think keeping it will never involve having to protect and defend it. As we sat and watched artificial bombs bursting in air at a family fireworks display on Wednesday night, I felt like singing the national anthem again. I realized that though we strive for peace, we have to recognize that sometimes it takes a war to achieve peace, and war is messy and cruel, a gritty, hellish nightmare. But it is the non-negotiable price of freedom.
More Franklin: "…the longer I live, the more convincing proofs I see of this truth: That God governs in the affairs of men. If a sparrow cannot fall to the ground without His notice, is it probable that an empire can rise without His aid? We've been assured in the sacred writings that unless the Lord builds the house, they labor in vain who build it I firmly believe this, and I also believe that without His concurring aid, we shall succeed in this political building no better than the builders of Babel."
No, not all wars are justified, and not all political leaders have been the selfless statesmen we thought we were electing. But throwing the baby out with the bathwater has always been foolish. Yes, there are other political systems out there, but history proves they've never worked better than a constitutional republic. As Margaret Thatcher said, "The trouble with socialism is that sooner or later you run out of other people's money."
What do we need in this country? We need better Americans--those who put honor above everything else, those who pay their taxes even when they disagree with how the taxes are spent, those who are willing to become more committed citizens, those who are willing to fight even in quiet ways for a cause larger than themselves.
More than a decade ago, a president was re-elected partly by his flippant slogan, "It's the economy, stupid." I said then, as I've said many times since when public figures have tried to define a situation the same way--"No, it's the morality, stupid." Thus will if ever be. If America fails, it will be because Americans failed to live up to the morality required by the principles of freedom.
And I will proudly sing the national anthem and be thrilled that the flag still waves because it will mean that we have survived the battle. Again.
Oh, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming,
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof thru the night that our flag was still there.
Oh say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?
It's clear to me, as I read the text of the poem, that the depictions of war in it are not there to glorify the destruction that was taking place. Francis Scott Key, who witnessed the battle of Fort McHenry, simply asked if the flag, the symbol of this intrepid experiment in self-government, still flew. And does it still fly over people willing to sacrifice for freedom?
When a citizen asked Benjamin Franklin what the Constitutional Convention had given the people, Franklin replied, "A republic, if you can keep it." We are naive if we think keeping it will never involve having to protect and defend it. As we sat and watched artificial bombs bursting in air at a family fireworks display on Wednesday night, I felt like singing the national anthem again. I realized that though we strive for peace, we have to recognize that sometimes it takes a war to achieve peace, and war is messy and cruel, a gritty, hellish nightmare. But it is the non-negotiable price of freedom.
More Franklin: "…the longer I live, the more convincing proofs I see of this truth: That God governs in the affairs of men. If a sparrow cannot fall to the ground without His notice, is it probable that an empire can rise without His aid? We've been assured in the sacred writings that unless the Lord builds the house, they labor in vain who build it I firmly believe this, and I also believe that without His concurring aid, we shall succeed in this political building no better than the builders of Babel."
No, not all wars are justified, and not all political leaders have been the selfless statesmen we thought we were electing. But throwing the baby out with the bathwater has always been foolish. Yes, there are other political systems out there, but history proves they've never worked better than a constitutional republic. As Margaret Thatcher said, "The trouble with socialism is that sooner or later you run out of other people's money."
What do we need in this country? We need better Americans--those who put honor above everything else, those who pay their taxes even when they disagree with how the taxes are spent, those who are willing to become more committed citizens, those who are willing to fight even in quiet ways for a cause larger than themselves.
More than a decade ago, a president was re-elected partly by his flippant slogan, "It's the economy, stupid." I said then, as I've said many times since when public figures have tried to define a situation the same way--"No, it's the morality, stupid." Thus will if ever be. If America fails, it will be because Americans failed to live up to the morality required by the principles of freedom.
And I will proudly sing the national anthem and be thrilled that the flag still waves because it will mean that we have survived the battle. Again.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Reflections of Spring--the Shortest Season
Before we go from snowy to sultry, as is often the case in Utah at this time of year, I decided to comment on the short season with short poetry--the nature-based 17-syllable challenge of haiku. Some purists say people who aren't Japanese shouldn't write this delicate form of verse, but being a cheeky American, I tend not to listen to those cultural directives.
This is my "spring" collection, although in my notes and files of Stuff, I'm sure I have a few more on other topics. Most of these were written way back when I was in college...as I recall we'd just unloaded all the animals off the ark the previous week...and these little snatches of impressions reflect who I was then, remembering that sometimes in those days it was more about meeting a challenge than making sense. I still think they're kind of charming. Hope you do, too.
This is my "spring" collection, although in my notes and files of Stuff, I'm sure I have a few more on other topics. Most of these were written way back when I was in college...as I recall we'd just unloaded all the animals off the ark the previous week...and these little snatches of impressions reflect who I was then, remembering that sometimes in those days it was more about meeting a challenge than making sense. I still think they're kind of charming. Hope you do, too.
I tripped and
fell in
the pond last
night because the
stars beguiled
me so.
This warm night
and that
full moon
remind me that spring
is for stargazing.
Shall I wrap
this warm
breeze,
or would you prefer to
wear
it home in style?
Shadows float
as trees
yawn and nod
with the wind. It’s
tired out
tonight.
The sad newness
of
spring
brings wistful smiles of hope,
the
soul’s camouflage.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)