Carol Dadds had been helping since early morning (we didn’t get there until about 10:30 am).
This is President Chasteauneuf (he’s 84) in what he calls “his supervisor’s coat. He is absolutely intrepid and will get up on ladders and try to do just about anything.
Next up, we played balloon relay races. You can see the winning team passing the balloon from knee to knee.
Last they played musical chairs (although I don’t think they call it that in England). It was cut-throat, serious play. Here they are as they were starting (left to right on the row closest to me: Jerome Trueman [red and black shirt], Steve [an investigator], Rosie Walker, Elder Trevisan, Elder Marchione, Tim Hutchings, and Michael Dixon).
On Sunday we did the Christmas Program I wrote and it was superb – not because I wrote it, but because of the music. Walt did a great solo of O Come, O Come Emmanuel, we had a lovely flute and piano duet of Silent Night, Elders Marchione and Trevisan sang O Holy Night (truly wonderful), and the Primary sang Away in a Manger in between numerous congregational Christmas hymns. Of course, all this music was carefully positioned within speaking parts done by three narrators.
To top off this amazing week, we had four less-actives in church today, not to mention the less-active that was there last week (whose husband and son are now investigating the church and getting the lessons from the Elders). One of our young men came up and thanked me for getting his mother out to church (we visited them Saturday). Hallelujah!! Our Christmas gift; just what we wanted.
By the time we got home on Sunday, I was flat out exhausted and went to bed at 7:00 pm.
First thing Monday morning, I made up 200 little (quarter page) flyers for the Elders to give out to the neighbors around the church for the Christmas Carol Service on Wednesday. Walt took them over to the Elders and they are going out today and as much tomorrow as they can, knocking on doors and giving flyers out.
Other than that we are just doing laundry today (“P” Day) and staying warm in the flat. I updated my journal and did my weekly report to President Shamo. Oh, good, I just got one of the presents I got Walt for Christmas – a pair of Union Jack suspenders. You all must remember the selection of suspenders he had at home (flames, John Deere, etc.).
Tuesday we had District Meeting and then we inspected the missionary flats in Yeovil and Weymouth. Of course, we came with cookies. How we love these fine young men! They work so hard and sometimes see so little return.
In the evening, I realized that I had done myself a disservice. I let myself in for a triple whammy – I agreed to speak on Sunday with President Chasteauneuf since Walter hadn’t gotten a speaker, I’m doing my usual Gospel Doctrine lesson, and I have responsibility for Primary Sharing Time (I graciously traded weeks with Sister Payne so she could go skiing). Oh, well, no problem. It just takes time. Therefore, I prayed and worked on my lessons.
After that was completed, we high-tailed it home so that Walt could pick up Brother Hutchings and take him to the hospital in Dorchester for a procedure he needed to have done. While Walt was doing that I finished off my Primary Sharing Time.
It's just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past 10 years or so.
It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas---oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it-overspending...the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma---the gifts given in desperation because you couldn't think of anything else.
Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way.
Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended; and shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church, mostly black.
These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes.
As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler's ears.
Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, "I wish just one of them could have won," he said. "They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them."
Mike loved kids-all kids-and he knew them, having coached little league football, baseball and lacrosse. That's when the idea for his present came.
That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes and sent them anonymously to the inner-city church.
His smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year and in succeeding years.
The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal its contents.
As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the envelope never lost its allure. The story doesn't end there.
You see, we lost Mike last year due to dreaded cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree, and in the morning, it was joined by three more. Each of our children, unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their dad.
The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further with our grandchildren standing around the tree with wide-eyed anticipation watching as their fathers take down the envelope. Mike's spirit, like the Christmas spirit, will always be with us.
May we all remember each other, and the Real reason for the season, and His true spirit this year and always. God bless---pass this along to your friends and loved ones.
--- Copyright © 1982 Nancy W. Gavin
We arrived at the church at 5:30 with our ironing board and iron so I could help iron the costumes for the children in the Primary Nativity part of the program. After that was done, we started dressing children. Then John Dadds dropped in and asked me if I could run the PowerPoint presentation for the program since he was also doing the lights and they were in two entirely different places in the chapel.
For those of you who don’t remember, the chapel is built to also be a multi-purpose room. The pulpit and everything up there is moveable, as you can see from this picture. The boards about one-third of the way from the bottom are where the pulpit sits. The program this year is in two parts: The home scene (on the right with a fireplace, tree, table, and over-stuffed chair). The Nativity is there with a manger and Bethlehem scene. The children just moved from one area to another.
Here is our Primary – they were on that stage for the best part of 1.5 hours and were so unbelievably good. As you can see, we had shepherds, one sheep, wise men, angels, and, of course, Mary and Joseph. The lady in the background (Sister Val Chasteauneuf) sat in the chair and read a Christmas story titled “Two Naughty Mice.” A little later in the program she read the Christmas story from the scriptures as the Nativity was being performed and sung by the Primary. It was lovely.
The PowerPoint presentation showed the words for the carols sung by the audience and pictures for the story about the mice. It wasn’t hard, but just took some concentration and focus to make sure you were on the correct slide.
Today is Thursday and, of course, Christmas Eve. I updated my Word documents and sent the flat inspection forms into the Mission Office. Walt went to the chapel to see if he could get the computer working – it could make for a mess if we can’t get the tithing settlement and checks written out into the system before year-end. We received two special Christmas cards today: The first was just lovely, with red velvet paper and stand-out ornaments. The second was more humble but the thought was wonderful: “When at times you feel you are getting nowhere, know that the love you have shown has made a difference.” At one of the first Zone Conferences we had in England we were asked to introduce ourselves, say where we were from, where we were serving, who we were serving with, and what we wanted to have said about us when we left the mission field. What I said I wanted to be said of me was “She loved us.”
Well, we had Kung Po Chicken, egg rolls, rice, noodles, and salad for dinner with Magnum Ice Cream Bars for dessert. Walt says they are just like home, but I do miss the almonds on the outside. Just as they were arriving, we had two more visitors: John and Liz Dadds came with a bouquet of roses for me and a box of tangerines for the Elders. How wonderful to be surrounded so close by people with a common goal and knowledge of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Weymouth is much like a large, extended family.
To explain what I meant by that last comment: Last Christmas Elders Ellsworth and Böng gave us a framed picture of them and we have had it up on our bookshelves for the last year. We have this picture on the stand at the right of my chair.
Since it was hailing yesterday, Walt decided we might very well have a white Christmas. Unfortunately, this is England where you can’t ever predict the weather. Today dawned bright and sunny and warmer. Here you can see the bright blue sky and a little bit of the ocean looking out toward Portland Island as we got into the car preparatory to going to Chasteauneuf’s for dinner.
This is Val looking for a resting place after preparing and us eating all that wonderful food. Note the crown on her head. That is from the crackers that were one the table. They were the long shiny things on the table (above) tied with a ribbon at both ends. They pop when you pull them and usually have a small gift, a crown, and these had corny riddles. My riddle was hysterical (especially if you live in England): “Who looks after Father Christmas when he’s ill?” The Answer: “The National Elf Service.” Of course, the National Health Service (NHS) is the medical services most everyone uses.
I’ve got my Gospel Doctrine lesson and Primary Sharing Time prepared, now I just have to decide what I will talk about on Sunday. I asked President today what he was speaking on and he still doesn’t know either. It could be a very interesting Sacrament Meeting.
Today (Saturday) is Boxing Day: “Boxing Day is a bank and public holiday in the England. The name derives from the tradition of giving seasonal gifts, on the day after Christmas, to less wealthy people and social inferiors, which was later extended to various workpeople such as laborers and servants.
“The traditional recorded celebration of Boxing Day has long included giving money and other gifts to charitable institutions, the needy and people in service positions. The European tradition has been dated to the Middle Ages, but the exact origin is unknown and there are some claims that it goes back to the late Roman/early Christian era.
“In England it certainly became a custom of the nineteenth century Victorians for tradesmen to collect their 'Christmas boxes' or gifts in return for good and reliable service throughout the year on the day after Christmas” (Wikipedia: Boxing Day).
Since Boxing Day this year is a Saturday, nothing (including the grocery stores) is open from Friday (25 December) through Monday (28 December). Everything opens up with a vengeance on Tuesday (29 December) for all the Post-Christmas sales. Last year Boxing Day was on Friday and then everything opened up Saturday, but not this year. Fortunately, when we were at ASDA (“A Member of the Wal-Mart Family”) on Thursday I saw the notice that they wouldn’t be open for the next few days and bought extra food to tide us over the holidays.
I have been working on my talk for tomorrow. It took a while to get exactly what I wanted to say on paper, but I am speaking on Inertia. I used that term with the missionaries at District Meeting last week and they all looked extremely perplexed. They had no idea what Inertia meant.
I explained that inertia is based on Newton’s First Law of Motion: “In the absence of force, a body either is at rest or moves in a straight line with constant speed.” To put it simply, an object at rest tends to remain at rest and a moving object tends to remain moving unless affected by an outside force. Therefore, if we are to make the most of our lives we must have a desire to do so and must work hard at it. Inertia is why investigators don’t get out to church unless they are being affected by an outside force (i.e., the missionaries with daily contact).
One of these days, tomorrow will be too late. Tomorrow will eventually be today or yesterday, and we will sorrow at how much potential we have lost and cannot regain.
Today is the day to resolve to make the most of our lives, to live the gospel to the fullest, to keep all the commandments, and to set the proper examples for our family, friends, and all with whom we come in contact.
I found a poem that pretty much sums up inertia and procrastination titled “Tomorrow” to end with:
He was going to be all that a mortal should be, Tomorrow.
No one would be kinder and braver than he, Tomorrow.
A friend who was troubled and weary he knew,
Who’d be glad for a lift and who needed it, too.
On him he would call and see what he could do, Tomorrow.
And thought of the folks he would fill with delight, Tomorrow.
It was too bad, indeed, he was busy today
And hadn’t a minute to stop on his way.
More time he would have to give others, he’d say, Tomorrow.
The greatest of workers this man would have been, Tomorrow.
The world would have known him had he ever seen Tomorrow.
But the fact is he died and he faded from view,
And all that he left here when living was through
Was a mountain of things he intended to do, Tomorrow.
Church went well on Sunday. It wasn’t too bad speaking, teaching Gospel Doctrine, and then doing a 20-minute Sharing Time in Primary (I've done it before). Actually, Sharing Time was fun. The topic was The Second Coming. I used PowerPoint and talked about the crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension. Then I asked if they would like to see Jesus again. I showed the video clip “The Ten Young Women” from the New Testament Gospel Doctrine DVD. The ending of the DVD tells of many ways you can fill you lamps so you are ready for the Second Coming. President Kimball taught, “In our lives the oil of preparedness is accumulated drop by drop in righteous living. Attendance at sacrament meetings adds oil to our lamps, drop by drop over the years. Fasting, family prayer , … control of bodily appetites, preaching the gospel, studying the scriptures—each act of dedication and obedience is a drop added to our store. Deeds of kindness, payment of offerings and tithes, chaste thoughts and actions, marriage in the covenant for eternity—these, too, contribute importantly to the oil with which we can at midnight refuel our exhausted lamps” (Faith Precedes the Miracle). Then we spoke for a few minutes of ways they could fill their lamps.
The only issue on Sunday was that the church computer has crashed hard. Nothing is happening and Walt has to get it working so that Tithing Settlement and disbursed checks can get into the official Church system. He is expecting a call from the IT geeks at Solihull (England’s Church Headquarters) that are very close to the Preston England Temple in the north.