Prayers for Scrooges & Scroogettes

Yesterday, my sister-in-law who is living with me suddenly sighed and said, “You know, I’m starting to get depressed about Christmas.”

I’ve been thinking a lot about Christmas this year. On the one hand, it’s going to be a particularly difficult Christmas for a lot of people because times are particularly hard right now. On the other hand, even if things were better, some people just don’t find holidays as cheerful as other people do. I confess to being one of them. Each year I try to do something to make Christmas what it seems like it’s supposed to be and I’m not sure I ever succeed.

Last week a woman at Church said that she tried for years to pull her husband out of his Scrooginess and finally realized that his experience with Christmas had been very different from her own and he just had a hard time with Christmas. She said that instead of trying to get him to change she finally decided to just validate experience, accept that some people have a hard time with holidays, and just carry own and make her own Christmas for the rest of the family.

My family didn’t have much money for Christmas when I was groing up but that wasn’t the problem. I think it was that we weren’t a happy family and we didn’t have a lot of love in our home. My usual answer to that is that my mother suffered from mental illness and my dad grew up in an orphanage and didn’t really know a lot about families. That’s true, in part. But I expect there’s more to it, though I’m not going to try to figure it out. It’s past. Of the five children and one remaining parent in my family, my youngest brother seems to be the only one who has learned how to enjoy Christmas. I don’t know exactly how he did it, but he married a woman who perhaps knew and whether or not she did, the two of them determined to make Christmas special, for themselves and for their children. They celebrated Jesus’ birthday on Christmas Eve (complete with song and candles). For years they took the family to the Dickens festival in Salt Lake City until the festival was closed. They have 20+ years of pictures of the kids with Santa Claus.

But more than traditions, I believe there is love in their home. Despite the problems and challenges of raising five energetic boys (and at times loving them), my brother and his wife love each other and it shows. They love their children and try hard to help them learn to love the gospel and to be caring and responsible. I know one of the sons resents that having a large family seems to mean less money for things he wants but I’m hoping he’ll keep growing up and realize one day that his family isn’t so bad.

I’m too old to blame my lack of Christmas spirit on my parents and clearly I’m a slow learner if I’m still trying to get Christmas right. I think I’m on the right track though. But I wanted to stand up for a moment for the Scrooges and Scroogettes of the world, who, forever reason, haven’t yet felt the spirit of Christmas. It may be that something this year, a tiny gift, a few words of kindess, maybe touch their hearts and help lead them to understand Christmas. I know my friends have helped me in my journey this year. Thanks to them all and to the good shepherds who watch with love.

What if?

As writers, every time we sit at the computer to compose, we deal with the concept of "what if?" But I play a game of "what if?" when I'm driving or doing busy work that uses only hands - even when I'm not creating a story. At this special Christmas time of year, I like to use a different wrinkle on that concept.

What if the Savior returned today? What if He came back on the anniversary of His birth? (Of course, we know that would be in the spring, but for the sake of the game, I use the traditional celebration date.)

Am I prepared for that "great and dreadful" day? Will it be great for me - or dreadful? This vein of thought takes me next to the question of what do I have to do different to make it great. At our stake women's conference, Elder Reynold's introduced a new concept to us - one I hadn't thought of before. And it is this concept that is going to make it easier for me to be ready when He really does return.

In Daniel 6:18, King Darius spends the night fasting for Daniel when his friend and advisor is thrown into the lion's den for praying to his God in defiance of the decree Darius signed without thinking of its consequences. Elder Reynolds said as he contemplated Darius's fast through the night, he wasn't impressed. We always fast through the night. So he must have been fasting from something other than food. We are told that his musical instruments were not brought to him, neither did he sleep. So he apparently fasted from at least those three things.

Elder Reynolds then broached the possibility of us fasting from things other than food as a way to improve ourselves. The thing that stuck in my mind as I listened was fasting from negative thoughts and attitudes. Especially at this time of year, my heart needs to be filled with love and charity and forgiveness and my mind should be filled with noble and generous thoughts, not criticisms and judgments.

As I carried this train of thought forward doing the "what if?" game, I was struck at what a great way to work toward becoming perfect,"even as I am," as we have been commanded to do. So just for today, I will try to be as perfect as I can be in every way. I don't have to it again tomorrow if I don't want to, but for today, I will fast from all things negative, from all things that don't turn me to my Savior, from music and people or places where I wouldn't take Him if He were beside. Just for today....I can do that.

I love this special time of year. The air is filled with more love and beautiful Christmas carols, and we are thinking more of our Savior than we might be at other times, so I hope we can be more perfectly in tune with our Lord and Savior. My prayer for each of you is that the "what if's in your lives all lead to good things for you and your families.

The Symbols of Christmas

The other night George and I set up our nativity scene. It sits in a lighted nook in our entryway, making it one of the first things you see on entering our home. I love our nativity set. There are the usual nativity characters as found in the Holy Scriptures: the blessed family, the angel, sundry shepherds, and three wise men. But, this particular set has new characters you can add every year. There’s the old peddler with his lantern held high, the shepherd boy carrying a small lamb and looking skyward to the star, or the little angel holding a dove and gazing lovingly down at the baby Jesus in His manger bed.

The symbolism of each piece speaks of the tender meaning and wonder of the Savior’s birth. The peddler’s lantern illuminates our way to the true Light which shines in the darkness, the angel’s dove represents Christ as the Prince of Peace, and the lamb brings our thoughts to the Lamb of God.

I often see George standing and contemplating the stable scene with all the characters surrounding the lowly manger bed, (I do the same). It brings our minds and hearts to the true meaning of the Christmas celebration—the birth of Christ. This Christmas, 2009, we share our testimonies with you that He lives and loves us. He is the Prince of Peace, the Savior and Redeemer of mankind.

Is it any wonder that His birth is celebrated around the world by every race and in every language? We too celebrate, and wish you a Christmas filled with joy, love, and wonder!

A Lasting Effect

Last July, my husband and I were driving down the road flipping through the radio stations as we drove a long.
“Bet I can find a Christmas station,” he said. Of course I figured there was no way he would find anything, so between us, we made a friendly little wager. He laughed, played with the radio dial for a few more seconds, and would you believe, on came, “Frosty the Snowman”!?! I couldn’t believe my ears. I mean, this was July! Singing about a snowman while living in desert conditions months away from Christmas seemed insane to me.

Now that the air is colder and the holiday season is upon us, I find myself singing to all the Christmas carols that fill the radio stations. A few times I have heard people say that the songs are repeated so often that they are “Christmas caroled out” Me? I don’t think I ever could be.

While there are various artists that sing their renditions of songs I don’t particularly love as much as I do others, a big part of getting in the mood for Christmas for me, comes from listening to Christmas music.

For example, when I listen to the Mormon Tabernacle choir sing, “Little Drummer Boy”, “Do You Hear What I Hear?” and “Silent Night” my heart is touched in ways I cannot express. I think of that first Christmas so long ago and what that little Christ child being born with such humble beginnings would come to mean for all mankind.

When I hear Andy Williams singing “It’s The Most Wonderful Time of the Year” the years melt away and I am a little girl again listening to my mother’s Williams Brothers Christmas album on the stereo in our family room. I have the happiest Christmas memories as a child. Andy Williams can spark those memories every time.

It’s also Andy Williams that sings my favorite musical rendition of “O Holy Night” While this song makes me think of many things, it mostly brings tears to my eyes as I think of my testimony and the love I have for my Savior and for this special time of the year.

Music affects everyone in different ways. It can cause people to think, act, and of course reminisce. It can have a great influence on us. The words to songs can touch and inspire us.

As I think of the beautiful hymns we sing at this glorious time of year, I am reminded of the scripture in D&C 25:12 “My soul delighted in the song of the heart; Yea, the song of the righteous is a prayer unto me.”
I love singing about the Herald Angels that sang Hosanna’s, singing glory to the newborn king, announcing the birth of the Christ child, and about the small manger where the Lord Jesus laid His sweet head. I love the song that tells us of hearing the bells on Christmas day ringing peace on earth, good will toward men. The list goes on.

Music is indeed a way to worship. I love songs that help us to celebrate this wonderful time of the year. There are certainly the fun ongs that we sing with children that builds up their excitement and makes them giddy with joy, and there is music that influence us to do good unto others and truly remember the reason for this season.

I think the music at this time of year helps to build the Spirit of Christmas and can have a lasting effect.

What I Love About Christmas

by Anna Jones Buttimore

This is my last blog before Christmas so I'm going to write about why I love Christmas so very much. Not the big things that everyone loves - getting gifts, singing carols, spending time with family, eating too much, enjoying the lights and decorations - but the little things.

• School holidays. The children get two weeks off school either side of Christmas. So no having to wake them up and find clean uniform at 7 a.m., then standing outside the school gates in the freezing wind each afternoon.


• The Christmas Radio Times. This is the official listings magazine of the BBC, and the bumper Christmas issue lands on my doormat a full three weeks before the big day, giving me plenty of time to plan my Christmas viewing with a highlighter pen. This year it'll be The Queen's speech, of course, and a new Doctor Who, and the latest offering from Wallace and Grommit.


• TV holidays. It seems that all my favourite programmes - Bones, Lie to Me, House - are taking a mid-season break over Christmas. I love this. It means that I can watch The Queen, Doctor Who and Wallace and Grommit without worrying about missing Booth and Brennan's first kiss. UK TV shows generally have a short season - a series of six episodes isn't unusual; 9 or 12 if you're lucky, so just as you're getting into something, it ends. US shows stretch that to a full 22 or even 24 episodes, guaranteeing regular weekly relaxation and entertainment for almost six months, but with a thoughtful two-week break each season to enable me to go on my Summer holiday or enjoy the festive TV treats without missing anything.


• Nativity Plays. My youngest, little Ceri, was an angel in this year's nativity play. She wore a Temple dress I had bought a year ago in the hope that her biological father, my ex husband, might give permission for her to be sealed to Roderic and I. Sadly he didn't, but she looked far more of an angel (in my biased opinion) than the others in their glittery and gauzy winged costumes. She stomped on the stage, halo flashing, unwedgied her knickers in front of the 100 watching parents, then saw my frown at such unladylike behaviour, folded her arms and scowled at me. Happily, by the time baby Jesus arrived on the stage, she was singing and smiling again and looking every inch the angel she is.


• Time off work. LawCare closes down between Christmas and New Year so I get a whole extra week off, in addition to my four weeks annual holiday allowance.


• Having my husband home. Roderic works in Russia much of the time (at least, when there's not a global recession on) but I'm guaranteed to have him at Christmas and for the following couple of weeks, since the Russian Orthodox Christmas is on 10th January, so the country isn't back to work until after then.


• Giving gits. A couple of years ago my parents asked that we not give them any presents. Needless to say I ignored that. I spend all year buying Christmas presents, and take great pride in picking the ideal gift which I know the person will love based on clues I've picked up. For example, a dear friend admired my popcorn machine back in July and idly commented that she wished she had one. Guess what she's getting for Christmas from me? (Emma, if you're reading this, it was someone else, OK?) There is indeed more joy in giving than in receiving.

Yes, I also love the fact that people who never go to Church (90% of the UK population) might actually go to a carol service or think about the saviour. I love turkey with bread sauce, cranberry sauce, stuffing, chipolatas and roast potatoes. I love seeing the children's faces on Christmas morning. But sometimes it's the little things that are really the icing on the (Christmas) cake.

Tender Mercies

The past few days have been rather interesting in our family. For a brief moment, we feared we were losing one of our loved ones. An accident had taken place and the details at first were sketchy. For nearly an hour we only knew that one of my sisters had been in a head-on collision and that she had been taken by ambulance to a nearby hospital.

This kind of news is not a pleasant way to start one's day. I know I was in a state of shock as I prepared to travel to Utah. Tears made an appearance as I packed and made necessary phone calls. Reason finally pierced the brain fog I was experiencing and I knelt in fervent prayer. Almost immediately my heart filled with a calming peace. Though I still didn't know if my sister would live, I knew I would have heaven's help to survive all that lay ahead.

Before I left Bear Lake Valley, I received word that all would be well. I can't fully put into words the relief that descended at that time. It was mixed with gratitude for the miracle we saw take place that day. This miracle became even more pronounced when we saw the condition of my sister's car. She had been watched over and protected, her life preserved in a manner that left little doubt as to Who had been in charge that day.

Last night I learned that my oldest son's life had been on the line as well late Saturday night. He had originally planned to journey to join up with family members that had gathered at my mother's home near Ogden. After his final class had ended for the day in nearby Logan, Kris called with the news that a raging blizzard had descended. He knew traveling through Sardine Canyon wasn't possible in his small car. So he tried a different route and when he saw cars sliding off the road in every direction, he turned back around and remained in Logan.

I was so relieved when he called and told me that he was safe in Logan, staying with friends for the night. One less worry, or so I thought. Later that same night as I knelt beside the guest bed I'm currently using, I felt impressed to pray for this son. Repeatedly I asked for things to be well with him, not knowing that his life was hanging in the balance.

It wasn't until yesterday that I learned what had taken place. My oldest son is allergic to tree nuts. If he eats anything that contains tree nuts, his throat swells shut, he has a difficult time breathing, and it makes him very ill. For obvious reasons, we are very careful to avoid making or eating foods of this nature when he is around.

He had a couple of scary incidents involving this allergy while serving an LDS mission. Twice he ate foods prepared by members of the Church that contained tree nuts, and with each exposure, the reaction grew more serious. Saturday night, he ate dinner at a restaurant in Logan with one of his friends. After he had consumed a portion of his meal, he began struggling to breathe. A waiter appeared and when questioned, he revealed that Kris' meal had been cooked with almond oil.

Kris experienced the worst allergic reaction of his life Saturday night. He spent over four hours in ER as he was pumped full of steroids to preserve his life. He didn't want me traveling during the blizzard that night, so he didn't contact me about what had taken place until his safe return home yesterday afternoon.

Once again Divine intervention preserved the life of a loved one. I have always been amazed by the tender mercies extended by our Lord. I will be forever grateful for the miraculous events we have witnessed this week alone. And you can be sure that this Christmas, my heart will be continuously filled with gratitude for all that our Elder Brother has done for our family . . . for me. His gifts to our fragile mortal world are beyond price. And while there is no way any of us can return to Him a fraction of what He has freely given, I believe that each time we attempt to act as He would do, His heart is touched with a joy we can't even imagine.

SNOW OR NO SNOW

I arrived in this world with the first snowfall of the year more years ago than I care to admit. My wedding day was also a day of winter whiteness. So you'd think I'd have a particular fondness for snow, but not so. One of the most frightening experiences of my life was driving alone with two small children on a winter night following a snowstorm when a cloud of fog wiped out the road, the sky, and every other car and truck that shared a winding highway beside a canal. With the heaping helping of white stuff we received this week comes memories of past snowstorms and my personal mixed feelings toward winter.

My childhood was filled with snow forts, snowmen, tobogganing, ice skating, icicles ten feet and more long hanging from the schoo house roof, and sleds. It was filled too with hiding under the covers each winter morning until Daddy got a fire lit in the stove, treks to the privy when each breath formed a cloud in the air, blowing on my hands to warm them before beginning the miking, wearing knee socks to bed at night, and long hikes through the snow to catch the school bus.

Do children still play fox and geese? I once loved that game. I still remember exhilarating feeling of whooshing down a hill with seven or eight kids on a toboggan too. One of my favorite memories of playing in the snow is the day my mother joined all of us kids on a long sheet of tin my brothers had fashioned into a toboggan. As our makeshift sled shot down the hill, she laughed and screamed along with us until we all tumbled into the snow.

My older brothers once formed a tunnel beneath the drifts between our house and the barn. It was a scary magical place where I loved to play until our parents decided there was too much risk of a cave-in.

Since my father worked for the Hudson Bay company as a young man and ferried supplies by dog team to distant outposts and later did the same for the Canadian Mounties, i grew up with a love for sled dogs which resulted in me trying to train our stock dogs to pull my sled. One big collie got very good at pulling me around the farm and to the neighbors about a mile down the road.

As teenagers, my friends and I skated on canals and ponds. There was something romantic and mysterious about skating on the neighbor's pond at night while a huge bonfire leaped into the night sky at the edge of the frozen sheet. In the daytime there was almost enough water left in the canal to skate all the way from my house to my friend's house several miles away.

In the years since, snow has become associated with unpleasantness instead of games. Driving on snow-covered roads is a nightmare I try to avoid. Each snowstorm brings a flood of worries concerning whether or not my children, their spouses, and my grandchildren made it safely to and from work or school. Frozen pipes, cars that won't start, and power failures have intruded on the magic that was once part of winter. Even the fun times of sledding with my grandchildren, watching them ice skate, and their enthusiasm for throwing snowballs or making snow angels doesn't quite ddispel the negative feelings toward winter. Now I only catch glimpses of the beauty and newness a snowstorm brings.

Snow was once magicalo. The first snowfall of the year was greeted with whoops and shouts of joy. It's funny how I really didn't mind the cold as a young child, but as I grew older I began to mind the cold a great deal. Somewhere along the way I lost interest in skating and other winter games. Now I prefer a fire in the fireplace, a good book, and a cozy chair. I'm content to watch the snow pile up through a window with only an occasional trek through the snow to fill the bird feeders.