The girls that never quit

This year Kathryn has the chance to be playing up with the grade 9 girls basketball team. She is the only one of her kind in grade 8 who plays ball. Last year she had to play down with the grade sixes, and that was a rough year with little growth and development. You may remember my post about the Raymond tournament from last year. But this year she is back playing with the older girls and she has grown so much!

Last weekend we played at the Chinook High School grade 9 basketball tournament in Lethbridge. We have a small team of 8 girls. I had no idea what to expect from these bigger city teams. But I think what surprised everyone the most was what they didn't know to expect from our little rural school team. Our first game was against Rundle Collage, which I am told is a private school from Calgary. It was a fast paced game and once our our girls new what they were like, they were able to control the game and won 78-33. Our next game was against the hosting team. It was a pretty evenly matched game and the score bounced back and forth between the two teams, but once again in the end our girls were able to pull off the win, but only by about 10 points. Winning this game put our girls in the finals against Cardston. One of our players had injured her foot in the earlier game and was unable to play. But that didn't stop them. I don't think either team was ever more than 6 points ahead. Regulation time ended in a tie and it was off to overtime. To add to the pressure, the Cardston boys team had just finished on the other court and all of them and their fans that had been watching came to cheer on the Cardston girls. It was LOUD! But that didn't stop our girls. They battled to the end pulling off the win! It was the most intense game I have watched in a long time. It was awesome for the girls.

Fast forward to this weekend where our girls played in the Myers/Barnwell tournament. We had two girls out with injuries, so we came into the tournament with only 6 girls on the bench. We played LCI first and that didn't go so well. We lost by about 30 points. Our next game was against Seven Persons and we were able to control that game and pull out the win. Our Saturday game was against Myers. It was an intense battle again, Myers held the lead by no more than about 10 points. And then came the fourth quarter. We were in foul trouble. The Ref's had been pretty tough on us. One of our girls had fouled out so we didn't have any subs. We narrowed the gap by just a few points. Shortly into the quarter, another one of our girls fouled out, so we were playing 4 on 5. We held on and wouldn't let them pull any farther ahead. About half way through, another girl fouled out, so now we are playing 3 on 5. And yet we kept the score within just a couple of points and even pulled ahead. At the very last minute of the game we were down to just 2 players, Kathryn and one other. But these girls just don't stop. We even had the Magrath team cheering for us. The game was lost by one point, 50-49. How many teams can say they did that? Many of the fans in the stands gave our girls a standing ovation for their super human efforts. They didn't come away with the championship, but they certainly didn't have anything to be ashamed of. I'm sure these girls were just as pumped, if not more so, after this game than they were after winning the championship last weekend.

This is one killer basketball season. We are so lucky to have such a great coach working with our girls! He has certainly taught them to be confident in their play and to never give up! He is always positive on the bench and always seems to be smiling, and looks like he is having the time of his life out there along with our girls.

Fake Santa

On the way home from our ward Christmas party the following conversation was had
James "that Santa was a fake!"
Mom "maybe, but Santa has lots of helpers. "
James "yeah, like elves, but that Santa was a fake."
Mom: "How do you know?"
J: "because that Santa had a white beard, the real Santa has a grey beard."
M: "I thought Santa had a white beard."
J: "oh, well, the real Santa was at the place where we get our teeth cleaned." (The dentist office is located in the town hall building, where the town Christmas party is held)
M: "How do you know he was the real Santa?"
J: "because he had a curly beard. This Santa just had a wavy beard."

So there you have it.  The Santa expert has spoken. Santa has a curly grey beard, and visits the kids at the Milk River town hall.

Made my day

While in Lethbridge today, I stopped in for a visit with my Grandma Paxman. Even though the visit was short and she really doesn't know who I am, I couldn't help but leave with a smile. There are somethings that are still very much grandma, somethings that dementia has not yet stolen. Like her absolute love of red hair. EVERYTIME James is with me for a visit she comments on how lovely his hair is, and it is a recurring theme for the visit. The other thing that is still very much grandma, is her positive attitude about everything. Dementia has yet to take her smile and sweet spirit. Oh how I love this women, and I miss the parts of her that have been taken from us. But I rejoice in all that is still grandma. How could I not leave with a smile on my face? Our ten minute visit totally made my day.

There Shall Not Be Room Enough

This has been a dry year, and I know many have suffered because of it. But here at the Courthouse, we have been blessed with bounty.

We picked our first cucumbers on June 30 and we just ate our last one a couple of days ago. That's three months without having to buy cucumbers.

I've been eating green beans for supper for weeks on end and I froze some for the winter AND I gave buckets full away to friends.

 And then there are our tomatoes, they just go on and on. I have already made all of the salsa that I need for the year, and I've hardly made a dent in our tomatoes. I've also made green tomato raspberry jam and spicy tomato jam, both of which I plan on making more of, and the rest will be made into tomato sauce and canned tomatoes...here's hoping I have enough jars.

As I picked the rest of our tomatoes today and they just kept coming, and coming and coming(as seen above) I was overwhelmed with gratitude and the scripture from Malachi kept running through my head "Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be meat in mine house, and prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it." Malachi 3:10

All that is left are the carrots, and those will likely be dug next weekend. As I looked over my harvested garden I was filled with joy. This sight, the sight of my garden freshly harvested, brings me as much joy as the creating of it and the beauty of it in all it's summer glory. 

A lesson in Gratitude

A friend of mine asked me if I would be able to take a meal over to a young mom in our community who had just had surgery. I said of course I would. So this afternoon I made up a delicious dish that I had made earlier in the week(you can find the recipe here) and took it to her, along with a copy of the recipe, as I was headed out of town. She was so very thankful, she couldn't say thank you enough times. I was so glad to have been able to help her out and headed on my way, not to think much of it again. Later in the evening, after the supper hour, I received a text from this mom, expressing her gratitude for both the meal and the recipe because it was just that good. She expressed how she has never had anything like this happen before and how she hoped to be able to return the favour sometime. Her gratitude was so honest and so sincere. I have had many opportunities to take meals to people in our church for various reasons, but I don't ever recall gratitude being expressed in this same way before.
 I have never felt it so deeply from anyone and that got me thinking. In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, serving others in common place. We are taught by the book of Mormon Prophet and ruler, King Benjamin that "when ye are in the service of your fellow beings, ye are only in the service of your god."(Mosiah 2:17) 
Because this is much of who we are, especially in the Relief Society organization of the church, this kind of service is common place. And I wonder if, because it is so common place, if maybe we just get used to it, and maybe even expect it, and so maybe we forget to show our gratitude as we should, as this young mom showed towards me.
And that got me thinking some more, it make me look inward. It made me reflect on times that such service was offered to me. How did I show my gratitude toward those who were serving me? Was it just a casual "thank you" or did I try to really express how much it was appreciated? I am certain there have been plenty of time that my gratitude has not been as sincere as it should have been, but I also can think of a couple of times where I hope that what I tried to express, matched how I was feeling towards those who had offered their hands in service to me.
In the end, I have determined to be much more honest and sincere in my gratitude, both towards men and towards God.

The Miracle of the Marker

This year was the first year that I have had the opportunity to attend Young Women's camp since I was a teenager in the Young Women's program. It was a hoot. On Friday morning our ward was responsible for doing a morning devotional, it was to be on Testimonies, but the morning got busy and the devotional overlooked and we were off and running before we remembered. But all was good. The plan for the day was to hike to Forum Lake. We decided we would do a shortened version of the devotional once we reached the lake and we had already planned to do a little activity there to tie into the mornings devotional. The activity was to make "I believe" rocks, an idea that was sparked from rocks that our family has found in the Lake at Waterton with positive messages written on the and also from this blog post I came across. We had one young women that was unable to go on the hike because she had had back surgery earlier in the year, so  one of the other leaders stayed with her in the town site while the rest of us headed up the mountain. Before we split up I reached into my ziploc bag that contained about eight permanent markers and handed the leader one. I told her what our plan was once we reached the lake and asked her if she would do the same kind of thing with the young woman that couldn't go with us.

The hike was a good one, but these 12 and 13 year old girls did amazing. I thought I was going to have to coax some of them up the mountain, but they never once complained and they all just kept going. When we reached the lake they were in complete awe and everyone of them said that they were so glad that we had done this hike.

We sat them down on the shore and shared with them our shortened devotional about testimonies. Then I pulled out my bag of markers and told them that I wanted them to find a rock and write their own "I believe" statement on it and toss it into the lake, and then here, part of their testimony will always be. I passed out the markers, and one by one the girls handed them back telling me that they didn't work. I was stunned, I hadn't even thought about testing them, they were just markers that I had at home and were frequently used, so I had just assumed that they would work. But not one of them did. Here enters my 12 year old daughter to save the day. She had stashed in her back pack on black permanent marker because she had wanted to write messages on rocks and throw them into the lake, like the ones we had found earlier in the summer. She said it was just a last minute thing that she had thought to grab the marker when packing her gear, but by so doing, we were still able to accomplish our planned activity. But then my thoughts turned to the two we had left behind and how I had built them up for this great faith building experience, and then given them a dud of a marker and they wouldn't be able to do it.
When we met back up in the town site, the first thing I asked was if the marker I had given them worked, they looked at me surprised and answered that it had and that they had had a wonderful experience. I was dumbfounded. What are the chances that of all the markers in that bag, the one that I pulled out, was the only one that worked? They aren't that great.
But here's the thing that I shared with the girls later that night at our fireside testimony meeting. Heavenly Father knows each one of us personally. He knows what we need. He knows what we want. He knows what is important to us. And not only does He know, but He cares, and He cares deeply. He cared about our little activity at the lake, and so He prepared a way for us to be able to accomplish that activity by prompting my daughter to pack a maker her back pack. He also guided my thoughts as I looked into that bag and saw that dark green marker and thought "green will be a good colour to write on rocks with" and so I pulled out the green marker, not the blue one or the red one or even the black one. The green one, the only marker in the bag that still worked and that was the one that I had left behind. I told those girls, that Heavenly Father loves them each individually and He cares about they things they care about, the big things and the little things. In the great grand scheme of things, whether or not we made "I believe" rocks and tossed them into that mountain lake really didn't matter. But at that moment it mattered to us, and so it mattered to our Heavenly Father.
I encouraged them to always remember that Heavenly Father loves them and never to forget the Miracle of the Marker.

Lessons from Trek

This past weekend Daniel and I had the pleasure of being Ma and Pa at our Stakes pioneer trek. We were assigned 11 kids(5 girls, 6 boys) ranging in age from 13-17. I can confidently say that we were assigned 11 of the best youth in our stake...although I have heard most of the other Ma's and Pa's say the same thing...that must mean that our stake is full of exceptional youth.

Trek is a wonderful opportunity to learn more about the handcart pioneers as well as about yourself. Trek is designed to encourage spiritual growth and to be physically challenging. Trek is not easy, and if by the end of it you haven't learned anything or felt growth in yourself, you have missed out on an incredible opportunity.

So here are 5 lessons I learned(or had reconfirmed)

1. I'm loosing my mind. Just before we arrived at the trek sight on Friday morning I started wondering where I had packed our flashlights. But for the life of me I could not remember what I had done with them the night before. The last thing I could remember was holding them in my hand after putting fresh batteries in them. After that it was a complete blank. That might have something to do with packing the last of our stuff at 3am. When we got there I looked through all of our stuff and couldn't find the flashlights, so I grabbed the little emergency one I have in the van and stashed it in our stuff with the hope that when we arrived at camp I would find the others. That never happened, I thought I must have left them at home on my dresser or something. But when we got back home they were nowhere to be found. As I was unpacking our bags, I found both of them tucked safely away in the front pocket of our duffel bag.

2. I am not a young adult anymore. My mind thinks that I am not all that much older than I was when we first got married. I certainly don't feel any older than I did then...but time has obviously gone by seeing how I have 5 kids and all. All I can say is that it was a really good thing that I had been training to run a 5K the months prior to going on trek, because even with that, it was tricky keeping up with these young kids at times. Their fast pace pulling/pushing the handcart was often a faster pace than my fast walking pace...and I wasn't pulling/pushing the handcart.

3. I didn't know I could be so fiercely proud of kids that aren't even my own. We had been trekking a long time. It was around 8pm and we hadn't done the women's pull yet, and everyone knows about the women's pull. The kids had been talking about it off and on through the whole trek speculating when it would be. But as time went on and in the distance loomed a hill our young men told the girls to back off, because they were going to need their strength for the women's pull that was likely to take them up that hill in the distance. And so our boys took over and pushed and pulled that handcart, and our girls refused to be told what to do and tried to push along. They were true gentlemen(a trait they get from their Pa), even if the girls were a bit stubborn(they may get that from their Ma). At the base of that hill, we stopped and sat in families so we could share the story of Jens and Elsie Nielson to help set the tone for the women's pull.

"October 23 was a day of heartbreak for Jens and Elsie. A blizzard and the long trek over Rocky Ridge challenged them every step of the way. Tragically, both young Niels Nielson and Bodil Mortensen died that day. Jens wrote of the excruciating circumstances at their camp in Rock Creek Hollow, where Niels and Bodil were buried: “We had to dig a hole and bury [13] bodies of our number, and my only son was among them, and a girl who I had along for Brother Mortensen.
                        I told you there were five men to the tent, but now the four were dead and I was the only man left, so I had to ask some of the largest and strongest women to help me to raise the tent, and it looked like we should all die”

Jens was also becoming weaker, and it seems that he was prepared to die. Elsie was reportedly less than five feet tall, but she had a spiritual stature and courage that matched Jens’s frame of over six feet. One of their descendants, Jay P. Nielson, told of Elsie’s courageous strength when Jens could no longer walk: “The end appeared to be near and certain for Jens. His feet became so frozen he could not walk another step, which caused his right foot to be at right angles the rest of his life. At this point Jens said to Elsie, “Leave me by the trail in the snow to die, and you go ahead and try to keep up with the company and save your life.” If you believe men have a monopoly on strength and courage, then pay heed to Elsie’s immortal words when she said, “Ride. I can’t leave you. I can pull the cart.”

It is not known how long Elsie pulled Jens in the handcart. One family history suggests that it was at least a day. Jens did not record the incident in his history. Instead, he recalled a covenant he made with God at that time. It was a covenant that Jens and Elsie were united in keeping for the rest of their lives:  “I remember my prayers as distinctly today as I did then. If [the Lord] would let me live to come to Salt Lake City, ... all my days should be spent in usefulness under the direction of his Holy Priesthood. How far I have come short of this promise I do not know, but I have been called to make six new homes, and as far as this goes, I have fulfilled my promise.  Speaking of the hardships of the handcart company—no person can describe [it], nor could it be comprehended nor understood by any human living in this life, but only [by] those who were called to pass through it."

We then were put on silence, not a word was to be spoken for any reason and then we began to trek again. Slowly one by one the boys were pulled back and our 5 girls were left to pull and push the cart up the rutted trail littered with roots and rocks.

Look at the determination on there faces. As I walk alongside these girls my heart swelled with pride as I watched them putting everything they had into it. The hill was long and the ascent was gradual, and it was anything but easy. But they rocked it. We had some seriously tough girls. They never squealed or complained. Not even when it was time to kill, pluck and prepare the turkey. They just got right in there and got the job done.

4. God knows his children and their needs individually. A couple of times along the trail we would stop and share a handcart pioneer story with our families. A favourtie of mine and one that demonstrates how personally Heavenly Father knows the needs of his children is a story from the Willie handcart company. They were faced with trial early on in their trek.

"We started out in great spirits, grateful at last that we were on the last lap of our journey. When we started our weather was intensely hot and our feet were badly blistered. The stock had to be herded at night and this was a laborious task for men who had drawn carts all day.When we were well out into the wilderness, we noticed a storm approaching from the southwest. The terrifying thing was not the storm, but a large herd of buffalo stampeding right past our camp. Afterward, I thanked the Lord, that our lives had been spared, for we all could have been killed. As it was, we lost 30 head of our best oxen. They were swept away by the buffalo. The men hunted for them but had to give it up.This was the beginning of our great hardships and probably was the cause of most of them, for we had spent valuable time looking for the oxen. This loss in turn, reduced our meat supply and because there wasn't enough cattle to pull the supply wagons, a hundred pounds of flour was placed in each handcart."

"October 12, Captain Willie again cut the rations to 10 oz flour for men, 9 oz to women and 6 oz to children and 3 oz to infants. On the 14th another reduction was made and on the 19th, the last ounce of flour was given to the starving saints. The same evening the first snow came and by morning it was 18 inches deep on the level. They were at the three crossings of the Sweetwater. The Company was already eating boiled rawhide and wild berries gathered from the bushes.It was on this day that my Grandmother went out to gather buffalo chips to make a fire, and a man appeared to her and said that he had heard that her company had been put on rations, and were short of food. She told him they were very short of food, and he told her to come with him, and they went a short distance to what seemed to be a cave. In this cave there was plenty of dried meat; he filled her apron with the meat and she was so happy to get it, she turned to go. And then, remembering she had not thanked him, she turned and he had disappeared, and the cave had also disappeared. She took her meat back to her Company, and the leaders told her the man must have been one of the Nephites."

Not only were they blessed with food when they were in such desperate ways, but it was in the form of protein, something that they had been with out for such a long time.

This past weekend, stakes all around our region were fasting for rain....basically we as a trek group got out prayed. We were praying to not have rain until we were done trek while everyone else was praying and fasting for rain. It is interesting to me that about the time that the fast was to begin Saturday night, the rain began to fall, all across the region, everybody's story sounds the same no matter where they were, from Beazer, to Lethbridge and right down to Milk River. Suddenly around 7:30pm there was a large black storm front that moved in quickly bringing with it rain, and lots of it. And although our prayer was not answered to hold back the rain, it was answered in a different way. The forecast warned of possible micro bursts, strong winds and hail. Now imagine 160 youth and their leaders with only tarps strung up in trees for shelter. That forecast sounds terrifying. But we saw none of that. Rain, that we saw and lots of it, ALL. NIGHT. LONG. We were told that we had recieved 2 inches of rain that night, but the strong winds never came. Most families stayed relatively dry through out the night. I am sure that many Ma's, just like me, when they were awakened in the middle of the night by a flash of lightning and the rolling thunder, said a quick prayer that their families would be kept safe and dry. Safe we were, and dry we were mostly. Our prayers may not have been answered the way we wanted them to be, but they were answered in the way that Heavenly Father knew they needed to be.

huddling close so as to be able to hear each other over the deafening rain

 5) God hears and answers prayers in his own time and in his own way, and sometimes his time is the same as our time and his ways are ours ways. Sunday morning all Ma's and Pa's were gathered together at 7am. As we stood huddled out of the rain under two large pine trees we were given instruction that we were going to be packing up and heading out. It was decided that we would be ready to trek at 10am. Breakfast was simplified to cheese buns, oranges and hot chocolate. We headed back to our family to give them the news. We asked them to pack up their gear but to leave it in the shelter until after we had eaten breakfast. As we gathered for breakfast, one of our youngest boys was asked to offer up our family prayer. It was short, and humble, as he asked that we have good weather for our trek out. I am certain that similar prayers were offered up in every other family. As we huddled together in our rain poncho(or garbage bags) to eat our breakfast, the rain began to subside. By the time we were done eating it wasn't raining any longer and Pa told the kids to pack up the wagon while it wasn't raining. It never rained again.

As we gathered as Ma's and Pa's one last time before heading out, we were told that all two wheel vehicles that were parked at the fence line would not be able to get out as the roads were in such rough shape and it would likely be about a week before they could be retrieved. I looked at Daniel and said "what are we going to do? How do we get home? We already sent word to Bishop to not come get his son because we would bring him home, and now they are telling us our van isn't getting out." But as we lined up the carts to start heading out word came that we would trek as far as the fence line, and then the two wheel vehicles would head out first, then the four wheel ones and then the carts would head out. Daniel went up ahead and I trekked with our kids. When we reached the fence line, I watch the vehicles drive out, but didn't ever see our van, so I inquired and was told that he had already left, but had gotten stuck. I went back and told the kids that if we were delayed it was Pa's fault because he had gotten stuck. As we began trekking again, our older boys commented that it was no wonder Pa had gotten stuck as the ruts were so deep and sloppy. Pa later told us, that there was no way he should have made it out with the low clearance of the van, but that at times he felt as though he was driving on a cloud, and there is only one way that that van made it out of there and that is no less than a miracle.


My prayer is that each of our kids, and in fact, each and every one of the youth who attended trek can look back at their experience and see how the hand of the Lord was revealed to them. I know that He was there each and every step of the way. I saw it. I felt it. I experienced it first hand. I hope that our "kids" know just how much we care for each and every one of them. I really wish we would have had those last few days to continue to get to know each other. I hope that as time goes by they'll still think we are cool enough to call Ma and Pa. I hope we don't loose touch.
I'd do each and every bit of it again if ever given the chance.