My Mom and the Onion Bread

The Rootstech Conference was last weekend and I attended.  One of the keynote speakers showed a video clip of family members making their grandma's banana cookies.   It was very simple, yet moving.  Why?  What is it about a loving grandma making cookies for her grandchildren?

A few days later I went to my moms to video her making bread. I remember her onion bread in round loaves on the counter many years ago and I wanted to preserve that memory.  She would make three round onion loaves with sesame seeds on top and when we saw them we knew someone was in need.  A loaf would go to the neighbor and two loaves for the family.  We knew mom loved and cared for others and she loved us.  So, ready to preserve this memory, and armed with my camera I started pulling out the ingredients.  Mom was adorable.  Really.  She had on a fresh apron, her hair was done beautifully and she glowed with love. Mom cooked the onion in butter and added water and yeast.  Then she measured the salt and the flour.  She talked of how her mother baked bread, and of the wonderful meals she cooked, and the clothing her mom sewed that made that made my mom feel loved.  She shared memories of her grandmother who taught home economics at the high school and sewed beautiful clothing for the governor's wife. Her grandmother earned the living for the family because her husband was away. I felt these values of previous generations:  Nurture. Faith. Hard work. Sacrifice. Thriftiness. Determination. That is what I wanted to capture in my record. I wanted to record the love, identity and values coming through the generations.  To me.  To my daughters. 

We looked at the dough.  "Did I forget to put in the sugar?" she said.  She forgot the sugar.  So.  She put it in.  After the dough was already kneaded. And the dough became very sticky.  So mom added more flour.  It was still very sticky.  So she added more flour. And more flour.  We laughed and laughed as she left the dough to rise.  We forgot the dough and let it rise twice as long before mom formed the round loaves.  After forming the loaves we forgot to put them in the oven and the loaves rose too high over the edge of the pans.  We laughed again and Mom just tucked the dough in and made it look the right size again and the loaves went into the oven.  Not a problem.  The bread looked great and it tasted even better!  That day was a great memory and I'm glad I recorded it.  I love this quote: 

"If you do not write your story, your name will be obliterated from the human record and you will not speak from the grave.  You will not have any influence on those who come after you.  Those who write about the things they have done and learned in life have a huge impact on posterity.  Write your story. You have overcome things your children need to know about."  Ronald O. Barney 

My children need to know about these nurturing and wonderful women.  I want them to feel the holiness and joy in everyday activities like bread making.  And I want to pass on the tradition of caring for others with her onion bread recipe. 

Onion Bread Recipe:

Saute:  

   1 medium onion and 1 square butter.  

Mix in the bowl:  

   Onion butter and 2 1/2 cups cold water or milk.  

When lukewarm add:  

   2 Tbl yeast 

   1/3 cup sugar

   2 tsp salt

Wait 5 minutes then add:  

   6 to 6 1/2 cups flour

Knead for five minutes then let rise for an hour or so.  Form into three loaves in round pans.  Let rise until double 30-45 minutes.  Glaze with milk and put sesame seeds on top.  Bake at 375 degrees for 25-30 minutes.  Let cool.

One Hundred Kind Words

Ten pink balloons floated lazily above our heads.  Written on them were nearly 100 positive, encouraging words.  The conversation below was both delightful and insightful.  Ten of us had just finished our annual "Pinkalicious Party" near Valentines with its annual tradition of writing the qualities we admire about each other on each named balloon.  Then we read them aloud.  And we felt good. It was a good place to be.  The power of positive words.  The power of looking for the good. You could feel it.

Cars, planes, bicycles and feet can take us where you want to go with varying degrees of speed.  But words.... words.... words can take you even faster to places you do or don't want to go.

"She's not helping with the dishes."
"He's bugging me."
"Stop that!"
"I want it closed!"
"Won't you ever clean this up?"

Hmmmm..............  Did you feel it? It doesn't take long to be in a dark place that gets darker by the minute.  A few words and you have traveled to an unhappy place. Repeated over and over, these words create miles of sad feelings, walls and distance that can easily grow larger over the weeks, months and years. Relationships can be lost in the negative distance traveled over the same ruts in the road for too long.  

True, loyal, unquenchable, techy awesome, disciplined, perserveranceful (we reserve the right always to make up words that should exist), determined, pure heart, brilliant and splendiferous.  Feel that floating on balloons over your head. 
 
Can moments, days and weeks of kind words, positive labels and looking for the good place us on a road of where we want to be?   I don't believe all problems will be solved with positive words; but I do know that chasms of bitterness and difficulty arise if our words are habitually negative.  I know that at times difficult things must be said. Even then, especially then, when done with love, words have power.  Words have power to change thoughts and hearts and minds and lives. Words can move mountains of difficulty or make mountains of difficulty.

I love these words from President Monson:

"Like the leprosy of yesteryear are the plagues of today. They linger; they debilitate; they destroy. They are to be found everywhere. Their pervasiveness knows no boundaries. We know them as selfishness, greed, indulgence, cruelty, and crime, to identify but a few. Surfeited with their poison, we tend to criticize, to complain, to blame, and, slowly but surely, to abandon the positives and adopt the negatives of life.

"A popular refrain from the 1940s captured the thought: 

Accentuate the positive;
Eliminate the negative.
Latch on to the affirmative;
Don’t mess with Mr. In-between. 
Good advice then. Good advice now."

The psalmist said in Proverbs 15:1

A soft answer turneth away wrath: but grievous words stir up anger.

I want to be somewhere wonderful....
I'll start with choosing kind words.

Gratitude - The Magic Mirror

I loved fairy tales as a child.  On of my favorites was The Snow Queen.  

In the story, a troll makes an evil mirror that distorts the reflection of things.  The true and the beautiful fail to appear but the ugly and bad are all one can see. The mirror is broken and pieces of it fall to earth and lodge in the eyes and hearts of people.  Kai and Gerda are two childhood friends.  Kai gets a piece of this treacherous mirror in his eye and heart.  No longer is he kind and good, but sees only the bad and the ugly.  He taken captive by the Snow Queen and Gerda seeks to find him and free him from this enchantment.  Many adventures ensue and at last Gerda saves him with her purity and love; her tears, melting his heart and burning the mirror splinter away.

So how do we melt the distorted mirrors of discouragement, sadness, entitlement, and pride?  How do we prevent the distortions from becoming our reality?

Gratitude.  It is Magic.  It changes the way we see things.    

Let me share what happened last week when two year old Clara visited us for the day.  This is what I observed:

     
    When handed the art paint: “Thank you.”
    When helped with her coat:  “Thank you.” 
    When handed the bear:  “Thank you."
    When given bread and apples: “Thank you.” 
    When handed the doll: “Thank you.”
    When given a cookie: “Thank you.”

I thought a lot about this.  All day long Clara was grateful for everything.  Her mom was not there to prompt her, but she had taught her well.  Clara lives and talks with gratitude.   

What if I said “thank you” all day and chose to live with gratitude just like she did?   What would be different?  In that gratitude mirror I would see reflected:

    What I do have.
    How much we need each other.
    How great it is to help each other.
    The good.
    The beautiful.  
    The blessings.

Can this change the distortions in the mirror of entitlement, pride, discouragement, and sadness?  Yes.  Our perception of reality and our capacity to see the beautiful can change in the mirror.  Reality is truly grounded in how we perceive the world around us.

President Monson said:  "My brothers and sisters, to express gratitude is gracious and honorable; to enact gratitude is generous and noble; but to live with gratitude ever in our hearts is to touch heaven."   

Thank you Clara for touching heaven, and allowing us a peek into heaven too.

I Have Qwuoschons

This was my daughter’s letter to Santa one year: 

Dear Santa

For chrismas I want spechel things.  I want:  bitty baby.  Bitty baby car seat.  Bitty baby stroller.  Potty train baby.  Chrismas party with my friend.  Jump ropes.  That’s all. 

Love,

Rosetta

PS. If heavenly father visits you Tell him I have qwuoschons.

About those questions.   I marvel that she had questions to ask.  Because that is how you get answers.  I hope she has lots of questions and she keeps asking and asking.  And if Santa can help, she’s enlisted him too. 

These words are on the front of her notebook:  

Consiter the lileys of the filld.  

I gather from these two literary masterpieces, the following:

"I have questions and I trust Jesus.  He will take care of me." 

 

That is my conclusion too.  I do not know all things, but I do know I have received guidance from Heaven when I lacked direction, understanding when confused, and peace when troubled.  I have questions and I trust Jesus.

"I'm Grateful! How Are You?"

Tonight I found a great solution to a family challenge that has bothered me for several years.  It was rather simple. Why didn't I find a solution several years ago? Hmmmm...... I think I know.  I was so focused on how I thought it should be and how everyone was supposed to fix it, that I wasn't open to solutions or ideas. There was a gift in that problem and I refused it.  Betsy in The Hiding Place was grateful for the fleas.  Well, I could have been grateful for this family challenge and found a solution.  But I didn't.  Until tonight.

Which brings me to two conversations with people I admire.  One was this month and the other about 10 years ago.  

“I am grateful," my son said a couple of weeks ago.  “And why is that?” I asked.  He replied, “Oh, I have a good family, lots of good books, a good place to live, good friends.”  I was surprised  by the happy simplicity. 

Ten years ago I had a conversation with a dear friend.  I asked her how she was doing, and she responded, “I’m grateful.  How are you?”  I was stunned.  And I wanted to be grateful too.

What stole my gratitude?  Was it some feeling of entitlement that the world owes me something?  Do I think I deserve better cooperation? Happier relationships?  More possessions?  More free time? I've read there is an Indian tribe for which the word thank you does not exist.  Am I the same if I refuse to acknowledge the good and express gratitude?

When I'm grateful for each family member's efforts and acknowledge the good, it changes my heart and reality itself.  That is a miracle! 

When Christ healed the 10 lepers, one returned to give thanks. Maybe more than physical healing took place in that simple act of gratitude. Being grateful is not just a nice attribute for nice people who have blessings. It is for the emotionally empty, difficult marriages and rebellious children. It is for those of us with challenging health problems, financial reversal and overwhelming obstacles. It is for everyone who wishes to acknowledge God’s wisdom and goodness, and acknowledge the good in others. It is for all who want healing. 

       So when someone asks, “How are you?” Consider, “I’m grateful, and how are you?”

In His Hands

Some time ago, my son Jacob lay on a hospital bed at Primary Children’s Hospital.  He had severe pain in his abdomen and the doctors determined that his appendix needed to be removed.  The expression that moment on my son’s face was very childlike even at seventeen and seemed to me to be pleading, “What am I doing here?  What is happening to me?  Why am I going through this?  Will I be okay?”   

I’ll never forget what the resident nurse of the emergency floor who was in charge of all that takes place there said and did at that moment to put his anxious feelings to rest.  She patted his arm and said with clarity, conviction, and compassion:  “You are in good hands.  We will take good care of you.” 

I’ve had similar thoughts on difficult challenges: “What am I doing here?  What is happening to me?  Why am I going through this?  Will I be okay?”   What about the health problems?  The relationship challenges?  Addictions?   Employment?   Finances?     

One difficult day several years ago, I prayed early on a Monday morning, “I just need to be held.   Please, hold me, just hold me.”   I went on with my day forgetting my plea.  Later that night, our family gathered for prayer and my oldest daughter walked over to me, put her arms around me to give me a hug and then she just stayed there with her arms around me and held me.  In a flash my morning prayer came to my mind and I had the distinct feeling that God was aware of me and answering my prayer.  He hears me and notices me and I matter to Him.

I feel a loving God say to me.  “You are in good hands.  I will take care of you.”    That understanding is one of the most comforting, encouraging, and motivating thoughts I have ever had.  The most loving, perfect, powerful Being in all creation, worlds without end, tells me that you and I are in His Hands.  And it is going to be okay.

On Being Found...

Lost.  Forlorn.  Forgotten. 

This week, my son attended a football game and heard a small boy cry out, “Mommy, Mommy, where are you?  I can’t find you!”  Then he collapsed on his knees and began to pray.  

Some days I have felt like that, "Heavenly Father, are you really there?  I can't find you!"

I’m exhausted.

My child won’t listen and I’m concerned.

I can't find clean clothing.

I can't console the baby.

I'm so tired.

I don't know why I can't sleep.
It seems as though the mess will never end.
There isn't enough money to cover all the needs.

There isn't any milk in the frig.

That bedroom will never be clean.

...

I drop to my knees.

The thoughts come...

"You are a beloved daughter."

"Your children are beloved."

"Love them."

"Read a storybook to them."

"Learn and Listen."

"I will not forsake you."

From Matthew 27:46: "And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani? that is to say, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?"

He knows what it feels like.  And he will never forsake me.   Never.