Children - God's Greatest Gifts

With my sweetheart and my new grandson Liam

I used to wonder why older couples were always telling me to enjoy my children while they were home because before long they’d be gone. I thought those people were senile and just forgot all the hard parts. I knew being a mother was exhausting and figured old people could afford to be sentimental because they didn’t have to deal with the day to day mess and stress of life with small children any more.

It didn’t occur to me that those wiser parents had already experienced what I was going through and actually missed it when it was over.


When we’re young parents and can’t see the end from the beginning, the ability to have children is often taken so casually. We have no idea that loving or not loving this child will affect thousands of people for generations. We don’t understand what we’ve been given. Mostly we see what we seem to be giving up.
Yet, as the years go by, we realize that our opportunity to love a child is God’s greatest gift to us.

Once I read about the last hours of a famous author. On his deathbed a reporter asked him if he was content surrounded by all the prize-winning books he’d written. The author turned to the reporter and replied that if he had it to do over again, each one of those books would be a dearly loved child and grandchild.

Today I am surrounded by dearly loved children and grandchildren.  I am not famous and I have not written a prize winning book.  But this I know . . . this man knew what he was talking about.  At the end of our life it does not matter so much what we have done  . . . but who we have loved.

Family Pictures

Notice the intelligent look by the person on the bottom left.

Whenever my husband and I try to take a family pictures there is always ONE person who just can't help themselves.  They have to go cross-eyed or pull a funny face.  Does anyone else have this problem? 


John is 14

My son John is 14 today.


Some of the things I enjoy most about John's are:

John working on his latest project.

* John is an active learner.  He works hard to earn straight A's in school.  But more important he is curious, hard working and creates interesting new projects.



* John shares his love of music.  Right now he is playing the bass in an orchestra, teaching piano lessons and learning to play the guitar.

John in the orchestra

*  John is kind.  He notices the person who is left out or made fun of at school and makes that person his friend.

*  John shows his love for his family.  He is always doing kind acts of service for his parents and siblings. 

John is the favorite uncle.

* John is great with children.  He loves his nephews and nieces and they look forward to coming to our home because John is here.

*John gives the best hugs.  If you get a John hug - you know you are loved.














* John has a great sense of humor.  He always keeps me laughing.

John dressed for nerd day at school

*John is honest.  I can always count on an honest account or opinion.

*John is dependable.  If John says he will do something - he does it.

* John is a great communicator.  John can express himself with ease.

*John has courage.  John is not afraid to try new and challenging things.  He has a great sense of humor and is not afraid to stand our from the crowd.

John spreading sunshine

Brother Love



Jacob didn't miss a thing on his older brother's wedding day.

Joseph surrounded by all this brothers and sisters at his wedding.  See if you can tell which one is Jacob.

When my son Joseph got married his younger brother Jacob was serving a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Bolivia.  Joseph and Jacob were born only 18 months apart and grew up together.  They did everything together. 

Jacob left for his mission before Joseph got home from his mission to Montreal Canada.  That meant that they would be apart for almost 4 years.  They really missed each other.

Because Joseph didn't want to leave Jacob out of his wedding, he made a life-size cardboard guy with Jacob's face and dressed him in real clothes.  On his wedding day we took "Jacob" everywhere with us so he didn't have to miss a thing. 

My Children Are My Teachers

Alisa's cloth doll

John testing each triangle

Children are naturally curious.  They want to experiment and try new things.  We adults tend to talk ourselves out of experimentation or creativity because we think we don't have the time, know-how or we don't want to clean up the mess.  Just this week my son John wanted to find out what triangle would support the most weight and Alisa wanted to make her own cloth doll.  Watching John figure out a way to find the answer to his question and observing Alisa creating a brand new doll out of my old cloth scraps has taught me something . . . I need to be more like my children . . .curious, eager, creative and adventurous.  I hope I am blessed to spend the rest of my days with children around me.  Every single day I learn more from the children around me than they learn from me.

Country Living

My husband and I moved out into the country 20 years ago.  We bought a house on two acres and settled in.  We loved the wide open fields, the quiet, the star-lit nights.   We loved not being crowded.

Lately civilization is creeping up on us. They built a new high school a few blocks from our home.  Then just this week a huge crew of men with big trucks and backhoes dug a six foot trench in front of our house.  They are burying an electrical line so they can take it to a field not far from here.  They plan to build more new houses.

People often ask me if I am upset about all the development.  The truth is - I love many of the people who live in those new houses.  I love making new friends and these new people are great.  My life would be less interesting if I had not met them.  And two of my married children have built new homes in those new subdivisions and it is so delightful to have them live near us. 
So . . . yes-development is a messy, noisy and inconvenient, but it brings me beloved children and grandchildren and lots of new people to love.  
   

My Love Affair With Trees

I've always been drawn to trees. 

When I was a child

I'd climb higher and higher among the branches 

until I'd wedge myself into a limb cradle and ride the wind. 

Trees are such loyal companions -

fragrant blossoms in the spring,

welcome shade in the summer,

full ripe fruit in the fall

black silhouettes against the blue dark sky in the winter.

This winter has been heavy with snow. 

A huge limb broke off our old apricot tree. 

My husband cut the severed limb into logs for our fireplace. 

But I've had a hard time letting them go up in smoke. 

They look so well composed lined up in a row

ready to offer me their last measure of devotion.

Carl Bloch - The Master's Hand

Our family went to the BYU Museum of Art for family night on Monday evening.  I was so moved by what we saw.  First we viewed a high-definition video projected on three huge walls, displaying Danish churches and landscapes as well as the king's oratory at Frederiksborg Castle, where Bloch's 23 paintings on the life of Christ hang.  Carl Bloch, a 19th-century Danish artist, spent 14 years crafting these paintings.  My last name is Baadsgaard because I married a man with Danish ancestors.  We enjoyed seeing the landscapes that are home to the Baadsgaard family. 

The exhibit features 5 of Bloch's 8 large alter paintings and dozens of his etchings and paintings.  I loved the painting "The Daughter of Jairus" where Bloch focuses on the moment of deepest despair yet in the darkened doorway stands Christ bringing hope. 

"Why make ye this ado, and weep?  the damsel is not dead, but sleepeth." (Mark 5:39).

Carl Bloch

Bloch fell out of favor when the modern movement took over the art world.  He never fell out of favor in my heart.  I have seen and loved his work for my entire life.  Mormon church publications and magazines have featured his work since I was a child. 

It gives me hope to learn that Bloch was very sensitive and often doubted his own abilities.  Even when his contemporaries were praising him and he was winning awards and medals, he wondered if he was good enough.  My own self-doubt finds hope through his paintings for he helps me see my Savior in the doorway bringing hope. 

Each piece invited me to contemplate the life of Christ - to ask, "Who is this Christ?"  I found myself longing to knell, pray, give thanks, adore, honor and to live a better life because I know Jesus and want to be like Him.

Whispering Snow

It's snowing

outside my window

soft

gentle

snow

muting the noise of the street. 

In the quiet 

I hear 

be patient

storms pass

spring returns 

the love you've offered

though not returned

lives
deep

inside

muting the noise of sorrow 

bringing

peace

no matter how long the season

or how deep the pain

the sun 

always rises

and 

love

pure love

dispels darkness

bringing 

 hope

 

Happy Birthday Josh!

Joshua and the Pepperoni Pizza

by

Janene Baadsgaard

alias Granny B

(this is a story written for my grandson Joshua on his 11^th birthday)

“Eat your vegetables,” Josh’s mother said.  “They are good for you.”

“I’d rather have pizza,” Joshua answered.

“I know pizza is your favorite food,” Josh’s mother said.  “But if you ate pizza every day you’d soon get tired of it.”

“No I wouldn’t,” Josh answered.

Josh was a connoisseur magnificent of scrumptious, steaming hot, delectable pizza.  He dreamed about eating pizza every night.  His favorite activity when he was awake was making his own pizza.  That way he could stack the pepperoni two inches high.

“If I could eat pizza for every meal,” Josh said, “I would be the happiest boy alive.”

“I don’t think so,” his mother said arching her eyebrows and smiling

The next morning at breakfast Josh was expecting the usual orange juice, oatmeal or toast.  Instead he found a steaming hot pepperoni pizza with a tall glass of pepperoni juice at the side.

“Wow!” Josh said.  “Thanks Mom.  This is great!”

At school, the rest of the kids got roast beef, potatoes and gravy for lunch but when Josh went to reach for his food, the woman on the other side of the counter took his plate and handed him another one stacked high with pepperoni pizza. 

“Wow!” Josh said.  “Thanks.  This is great!”

At supper that night Josh’s mom served up pepperoni pizza with an impromptu song, tap dance and a very gregarious hug.

“I live only to serve you so please accept this squeeze,” Josh’s mom said in her best fat- lady-at-the-opera voice right before she hugged him, “then take this pepperoni but please oh please don’t sneeze!”

“AHHH CHOOO!” Josh answered peppering his pepperoni pizza with a little more than pepperoni.

The next morning the same thing happened all over again . . . breakfast . . . lunch and dinner was all pepperoni pizza.  The first week was great but by the second week Josh was getting tired of all that pepperoni.  He even offered the kid next to him at school lunch all his pepperoni pizza for a single French fry.  But the kid said no. 

“Are we having pepperoni pizza for supper again?” Josh asked as he dragged through the door after school.  “We’ve been eating pepperoni pizza for a month now.  Don’t you think I need a little variety in my diet?  I’m a growing boy you know.”

“I’m only here to please,” his mother answered.

“I know.  I know,” Josh answered.  “You know Mom this pizza thing is getting pretty old now.  You can stop.”

“But you said if you could eat pizza every day you’d be the happiest boy alive.”

“I know.  I know.  But I changed my mind.”

That night Josh’s mom served turkey, stuffing and a fresh green salad.

“Oh boy does this ever taste good,” Josh said.  “Thanks Mom.

After supper Josh’s mom looked out the window at their back yard.

“I’m so sick of winter,” Josh’s mom said.  “I’d be the happiest woman alive if all this snow disappeared. I wish it was summer all year long.”

“Mom,” Josh said.  “Don’t say that!  Be careful what you wish for.” 

Leif Enger - author of "Peace Like A River" - Speaks . . . and I Listen

Reading and writing . . . awe  . . . sublime joy. 

I attended the Family Literacy Symposium at the Provo Library on Saturday with my daughter April and enjoyed listening to an author I admire.  Leif Enger, author of Peace Like A River gave the keynote address.  It felt more like a one-on-one chat with someone who loves stories as much as I do.

Some of the insights he shared that I most enjoyed were:

"We need stories."
"Our lives are literature."
"We enter as minor characters in the middle chapters."
"If you want to get someone's attention say these words, 'Once upon a time.'

"Most of us see the chance of failure as danger.  But failure teaches us . . . things like humility."
"Some books will build you up and some will tear you down.  They are both your friends."
"Have you ever noticed that fanatics never have a sense of humor."
"Whimsy became necessary for my enjoyment of the world."
"As a child and teenager I was invisible.  Invisible people make good writers."
"We write and read fiction to understand what we think about things."
"Why is God so often quiet?"

"I never knew what I thought until I wrote it down."

Love Grows in Little Houses

I've noticed an interesting trend during the past decade or two.  Houses keep getting bigger and bigger while families keep getting smaller and smaller. 

With the recent bubble and crash in the real estate market, I think more people are re-considering how much house they really need . . . a kind of less is more mentality. 

The size of our homes doesn't really matter.  What matters is the size of our hearts.  Years ago, my husband and I were absolutely thrilled with our first new home.  It was one of those manufactured dwellings built off site then shipped down the freeway to your building lot in two halves - pretty much a double wide trailer in size. 

This home felt like a castle to us.  Our previous place of residence was in a run-down hundred year old apartment with no bathtub and lots of mice.  I used to tape pictures above my kitchen sink and pretend I could see out because there were no windows.

When we finally moved into this home of our own, it felt like we were living like royalty.  Every morning I could look outside through windows and I was able to bathe my two babies in a real bathtub.  We had seven beautiful children fill our lives with joy in that house.  I'm sure we were living below the poverty level but we didn't feel poor.  Where there's love  . . . you always have enough. 

When we found out number eight was on the way, we didn't have any more floor space for another bed so we had to look for a larger house.  Then number nine and ten came along.  But I will always remember my first little house with great tenderness.  You see I know for myself that loves grows in little houses.  And where God sends his little lambs . . . green pastures follow.

             

Winter Wisdom

WINTER

After a particularly exasperating evening of repeated attempts

to get several of my jack-in-the-box children to go to sleep,

I tucked my son into bed

one more time with a sigh.

“What am I going to do with you?” I asked.

“Oh Moma, just hug me, and pretty soon I’ll grow up.”

And he did.

growing up and growing old

each year more dear and hard to hold

crystal bloom frosted with snow

we say goodbye before we say hello

submissive to the trust the seasons keep

watch and wait before we sleep

gentle earth beneath drifts of white

time of rebirth seeks the light

winter solstice

frost and ice

melting into pools of green

sunshine

resurrection

hope of spring

Cycle of living, season of song

embraces and whispers,

“Life goes on.”

Winter Fun at the Cabin

Sometimes I get mad at winter.  I get fed up with freezing cold weather, dangerous travel and snow to shovel. I think about moving to a warmer climate.  I grumble.  I wish I could hibernate like the bears and never leave my house until it's warm again. 

Then I hear my children say, "Let's go sleigh riding!" At first I'm not sure I want to go.  But I go along any way all the while worrying that I won't have any fun because I'll be SO cold.  And I hate being SO cold. 

Then it happens . . . I get myself bundled up and then . . . slowly . . . the child inside me comes back to life.  Lke the winter sun peeking through the clouded sky, I start laughing, shouting and throwing my hands up into the air.

Later I find myself whispering, "Thank you God.  Winter is so beautiful.  And by the way sleigh riding is so stinkin fun!" 

This blanket of white . . . this time of pausing . . . teaches me.  There is beauty and joy in every season . . . when we open our hearts and let it in.

Janene sleigh riding with gusto

Alisa making snow angels

John picking up speed

Alisa using the trusty foot stop maneuver

John's flying leap off the deck

Ross drinking icicles

John walking into the cabin in knee deep snow

My Daughter Alisa

                                                                       

When we say, "Oh, Yes!' God can fill our lives with joy.

My daughter Alisa is turning 11 years old this month.  I can not express in words the absolute joy she is to me.  Every day Alisa invites me to share in the miracle of life, the joy of creation and the wonder of simple things.  Sometimes when she is in bed at night I will tip-toe into her bedroom and watch her sleeping.  Every single day  I thank God for sending her to me.  The world tells us that we are rich when we have a lot of money.  But riches aren't found in money.  We are rich when we have children about us to love and cherish.  I love you Alisa.  You are an absolute joy to my soul.       

Alisa says, "Oh Yes!  Look at me Mom.  I'm so brave I can do anything."

Alisa says, "Oh yes!  I found a sand dollar and I'm rich."

Alisa says, "Oh yes!  If I jump high enough I might fly."

Alisa says, "Oh Yes!  There's so  many leaves I can jump in them."

Alisa says, "Oh yes.  It's starting to snow."

    When most women said, "Oh No!  Not  more children.  I'm am too old and tired to have any more children." . . . I said, "Oh Yes!   Dear God, I would love to have another child."

And so Alisa was born.

When we say, "Oh yes!"  God can fill our life with joy.