The Rush to Judgment

author Markus Zusak

When we rush to judgment about any group of people we always make incorrect assumptions.  One group of people I have judged harshly in the past is the German people during World War II.  "What kind of people would go along with all that Hitler insanity and cruelty?"

Recently I read a book that required me to re-evaluate my thinking.  "The Book Thief" by Markus Zusak was not a book I wanted to read.  I've read a lot about this period of time and felt like I had a good grasp about what happened.  I had decided who were the good guys and who were the bad guys.  Even after the first twenty or thirty pages I was not going to finish this book.  It was just too hard.  But each time I put it down, I had to pick it up again.  I am a different person because I finished this book.  I speed read a lot of books but I had to read this book slowly . . . every word.  For the author had some important morsel on every page.

Raw, difficult to read but life changing.

 

Choosing to Love in a Loved Starved World

February is the month we celebrate Valentines Day.  Just today someone told me that they hate Valentines Day because it makes them feel alone and unloved.  I wonder if feelings of being alone and unloved come when we depend on others to fill our love cup.


We don’t have to be disillusioned when we don’t get the love we want from others. The only thing we have any control over is the quality of love we offer.

Too often we find ourselves holding back love, afraid of being hurt – giving only to get - sharing love only when we feel love coming back. Our hearts will keep getting smaller and the world will keep getting colder when we live that way. 

Love won’t fail us as long as we give it. When we choose to love, we live in a warm inner world of appreciation, gratitude and affection.

There is nothing more important to do with our lives than love someone.

Ultimately every sacrifice we make for another human being contains our life’s greatest meaning – every choice to love, our life’s greatest purpose.

Red Roses Bring Back Memories

Thirty-eight years ago I was a young nineteen year old woman in love with a handsome young man who had just left for a two-year mission to Samoa.

I was genuinely happy that this young man wanted to serve God by spreading the good news of the gospel.  Yet when I returned home alone that night after our goodbyes, it hit me . . . two years is a long time.  I walked downstairs to my bedroom.  Then I sat on my bed and cried.

Just then I heard the door-bell ring.  I wiped my eyes and walked upstairs.  When I opened my front door, there was a floral delivery guy holding a dozen red roses addressed to me from my sweetheart.  Something about that gesture touched me so deeply.  Ross had thought ahead about how I might be feeling just at that moment. 

So I cried some more. 

Today I opened the door and there was my sweetheart . . . holding the red roses for me in his arms. 

Yes.  It all worked out and we got married after he returned home from his mission.  But that night when I was nineteen, I didn't know what was going to happen and I had to live on hope.  Red roses always take me back to that tender moment.

Now, ten  children and 22 grandchildren later, nothing delights me more than seeing my sweetheart walk through the front door with his arms full of red roses. 

Ross - having you in my life is like having Valentines Day every day of the year.

I love you. 
Jan

Celebrating Motherhood




All the special women in Amy's life gather to celebrate mothering

My daughter Amy in about to become a brand new mother.
How I love her and wish her well on her journey.

 Today we held a meaningful celebration of mothering.  Our special guest of honor was my daughter Amy.  There was good food and good conversation.  Why did we meet?  Because a brand new baby girl named Tessa is about to be born . . . and so is a brand new mother.  So we celebrated both . . . a new mother and a new baby.  We created a paper chain where we each wrote down something we love about Amy that will help her in her new journey as a mother.  Then as she opened each present from her guests, the gift giver told Amy one thing she loved about being a mother or having a mother.  

Happy 3rd Birthday Emma

The last time I saw my granddaughter Emma, she took me by the hand and excitedly showed me her new toothbrush.  She was so excited about it, she held it up, twirled around and leaped through the air to show me her pleasure.  I couldn't remember the last time I was that excited about a new toothbrush.  Emma taught her grandma that there is magic in simple things that we take for granted every day.  So in case you are wondering . . . that is why I just had to write Emma this short story and poem for her 3rd birthday.

Emma and the Magic Toothbrush

By Grandma Baadsgaard (alias Granny B)

Once upon there was a little girl named Emma who had a magic toothbrush. When most people brush their teeth, they get clean teeth. But when Emma brushed her teeth she turned in to the Mighty Pink Princess of Everything.

One afternoon after playing with her toys in her bedroom for an hour, Emma ran into the bathroom and grabbed her toothbrush. Then she ran around the house waving her toothbrush in the air.

Emma’s mother saw her and said, “Emma, you need to go back in your bedroom and pick up your toys and put them away now.”

“I am the Mighty Pink Princess of everything,” Emma answered. “I don’t have to pick up toys.”

“Oh is that right?” Emma’s mother said.

“Well I’m the queen of everything and I say you need to pick up your toys right now young lady.”

Emma scrunched her eyebrows and frowned. Then she pointed her magic toothbrush at her mother and said, “Disappear!”

“You need a time out in your bedroom,” her mother said. “You can come out when you have your room cleaned up young lady.”

Emma went to her room. She waved the magic toothbrush in the air. When she looked down and noticed she was dressed in a sparkly pink dress and a pair of sparkly pink shoes.

“I am the princess of everything and I don’t pick up toys!” Emma said.

Then she danced on the floor. Then she jumped on her bed.

That’s when Emma’s Dad opened the door to her room.

“Look at this mess,” he said. “Emma you need to clean up your toys.”

Emma scrunched her eyebrows down and frowned.

“I am the princess of everything,” Emma said. “I don’t have to pick up toys.”

“Well I’m the king of everything and I say you need to pick up your toys right now you little rascal.”

Emma pointed her magic toothbrush at her father, “Disappear!”

“I can manage that,” her father said disappearing behind the door. “You can come out when you room is clean.”

“I am the princess of everything,” Emma said pointing her toothbrush at her toys. “Disappear.”

Suddenly the walls in Emma’s room turned into a large pink dining hall in a huge pink castle. There were long pink curtains at all the windows and glistening pink chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Emma sat down at a long table with a pink tablecloth and flickering pink candles. She chose Mickey and Minnie Mouse, Barbie and Baby for her dinner guests. They ate pink cake, drank pink sparkling cider and had pick pickles for dessert. Then Emma got a tummy ache. She was tired or pink castles, cider and pickles.

Emma sat down on the floor and put her head in her hands. Then she scrunched her lips and rolled her eyes. Suddenly she stood up and bravely waved her magic toothbrush in the air.

“I am the princess of everything,” Emma said, “and I am going to pick up my toys now.” And she did.

Ala ka zab

and razzle dee-doo

Emma’s new toothbrush

Can make magic foo.

In Tinker Bell jammies

and breathing a sigh

this magic toothbrush

catches stars going by

If you jump on your bed

and hold it just right

this toothbrush will gather

new dreams out of sight

“Put that toothbrush away

or it will get covered with germs!”

her mother and father

spout with concern.

But Emma, who knows power

and razzle-dee-daz,

keeps waving her toothbrush

to bring in pazaz

While parents are skeptics,

children all know

there is magic in small things

if you love them jut so.

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.”