Monday, March 28, 2011

Humility and Gratitude


I’m intrigued with Buddhism.
I like their teachings and beliefs.
They are so confusing.
I’ve been listening to the Zen podcasts for several months now and still have no idea what they are talking about but I like them.  They soothe me.  As I’m listening, I have a reverence for all things good and beautiful, including myself and everyone I know.
 This is a story told on humility:
This Buddha teacher is meditating in front of the alter.  “I’m nobody,” he chants.  “I’m nobody.”
Another monastic type, also meditating, says, “I’m nobody.  I’m nobody.”
The janitor hearing them, goes over and kneels in front of the alter, chanting, “I’m nobody.  I’m nobody.”
The teacher leans over to the monk and whispers:
“Look who thinks he’s nobody.”

A story on enlightenment, followed by a story told by Frances Lee Menlove on gratitude:
“How long will it take to be enlightened?”
“Ten years.”
“What if I really try hard, how long will it take?”
“Twenty years.”
Devotional
Gratitude:  A Contagious Choice
by Frances Lee Menlove
I recently visited a Buddhist monastery in Korea.  The monk who greets us suggested we open our minds and let the winds waft through them as we proceeded up the stairs to the ancient temple.  Open your mind as I tell you a story; listen deeply, and let this ancient tale have its way with you.
There were two Buddhist monks, one somber and one joyful, living miles apart.  The first monk prayer all day long in deep motionless silence.  The second monk would sing and dance his praises to God near a huge tree in the monastery garden.
One day, an angel appeared to the first monk and said, “I have come from God.  You have been given permission to ask God one question.  What is your question?”  The somber monk looked up and asked, “How many more lives must I live before I attain self-realization?”
The angel left him and reappeared miles away to the second monk, who was singing and dancing before God.  The angel said, “I have come from God.  You have been given permission to ask God one question.  What is your question?”  “Without hesitation, the joyful monk, asked, “How many more lives must I live before I attain self-realization?”  And with that, the angel disappeared.
One week later, the angel returned to the somber monk and said, “I have the answer you seek.  You must live three more lives before you attain self-realization.”  Hearing this, the first monk fell dejectedly into heavy sobbing, “Three more lives, three more lives.  Oh, no,” he cried, “three more lives.”
The angel left and appeared to the dancing monk.  “I have your answer,” the angel said, “Do you see that tree around which you have been dancing and singing your praises to God?”
“Yes,” replied the joyful monk.
“You must live as many more lives as there are leaves on that tree before you will attain self-realization,” the angel said.
The monk looked up at the tree and said, “Why, there must be ten thousand leaves on that tree.  Only ten thousand lives?  Only ten thousand more lives, and I will attain self-realization!”  And the monk began to sing and dance joyfully before God.
Suddenly a deep voice thundered from heaven, “My child, this day you have attained self-realization.”
This story depicts gratitude as almost a state of being.   The joyful monk is an example of President Hinckley’s assertion that gratitude is the essence of worship.  Being grateful for the shining moon, the orange on the counter, and the open book on the table.  Grateful when the right word comes to mind, when a name is remembered—and a sense of humor when it doesn’t.  Grateful for the laughter of the kids running around the front yard.  Grateful for the astounding space photographs taken by the Hubble telescope.  Grateful for the gift of life. 
 **********************************************
After reading this, my brother DeLoy, the poet, wrote:
Tale of Two Monks

One Buddhist monk
Was most grateful;
He had great spunk.

The other monk
Somber, fearful;
His life kerplunk.

Sunday, March 20, 2011

The Size of Things

MEASURING THE HUGH GRANDKIDS
Brigitte born April 7, 1996
Jonathan born July 26, 1996
Isaak born December 25, 1997
Klarissa born February 27, 2001
Naomi and Amanda born October 26, 2002
Karlton born April 2, 2003

Elizabeth measuring Brigitte & Jonathan.  12/13/10

Jonathan and Isaak

Isaak discovered a way to be taller!

Jonathan (14) & Klarissa (9)

Jonathan (14) and Karlton (7)

Brigitte & Jonathan March 19, 2011 - 3 months later
Klarissa (10) & Naomi (8)
 
Klarissa (10) & Amanda (8)

Karlton (almost 8) & Naomi (8 years 5 months)

Karlton & Amanda

Klarissa (10) & Karlton (8)






And that's about the size of it!
No one else would notice,
but in December,
decorating the Christmas tree,
Jonathan is wearing
my old Gap fleece;
while in March
walking to the park
with all of the grandchildren,
Brigitte is wearing it.
Is the Gap still in business?
*******
What do I know?
Tonight when I put the fleece on
to go for a walk through the hollow,
it said not Gap
but Old Navy!

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

EMILY ALVIRA HOYT

I mentioned in a blog (called Rachel) that my Grandmother Esplin had 12 children and only five of them lived to adulthood; and that my Aunt Hattie had told me that her mother was strong and healthy and had strong and healthy babies—nine babies all living to adulthood--, and that my grandmother was weak and sickly and had weak and sickly babies.  I mentioned that I didn’t know if that were true. 
This is what I have learned since.  In talking to our cousin, Lillian, Shirley found out that our grandmother had the Rh factor.  That was a big problem in those days.  Many babies died.  Lillian’s mother, Lillie, had Rh factor and she almost lost her life and the baby when her third child, Duane, was born.  That doesn’t mean you are weak and sickly. 
Verna Pugh told Shirley that Grandma made three kinds of bread for meals to please everyone she was feeding.  Grandpa like salt-rising bread.
Shirley wrote:  After reading your blog Jeanette, I've thought a lot about our grandmother Esplin, where you said that Aunt Hattie had said that our grandmother was sickly and her children all died and her mother was well and none of her children died. We can't reconstruct what we don't know. There are a few comments from those who knew her, particularly Aunt Lillie that would counter Aunt Hattie's statement. Lillian said her mother had told her that she was unhappy in the same household with the other wife. Our grandmother did all of the housework and meal preparation. Velma told Lucy and I that her memory of the other wife was that she wore a silk dress day in and day out. That she never went out. She had a hump back. Verna Holgate Pugh was a good source. Nan and VeRene visited with her often. Verna greatly admired our grandmother. She spent a lot of time with her. She felt closer to Grandma Esplin than she did to her own mother. Verna also said that Grandma Esplin had to remind Grandpa that he needed to spend time with his other family. He seemed to feel more at home with our grandmother. I know he loved the children from his other wife and kept in touch with them.. Nan said Grandpa and Grandma Esplin were worriers. Compared to her Heaton grandparents who were fun-loving. She said when she climbed a tree, Grandma Esplin worried she would fall. Grandma stood under the tree with her apron stretched out to catch her.
I don't think it was a very kind remark for Aunt Hattie to make to say that our grandmother was sickly and her children died. In those days epidemics of typhoid, diphtheria, measles, scarlet fever, small pox, and whooping cough took a toll on the young. The children in the family who died when they were older would have survived had they lived today with penicillin and today's medical knowledge.
I have three original letters that Grandma Esplin wrote to Daddy.  This is the one she wrote a month and a half before he got married:
St. George Utah, August 28, 1927         Dear Lynn,  I was surely disapointed when I didn't get to see you when we came by I had to cry a little, I had so many things I wanted to ask you about, but maybe you did not want to talk to me both times.  I was up there you didn't seem to care or want to see me very much.  I wanted to know just what you wanted me do do about your clothes it will soon be somebody else to do for you, we didn't get down here till after dark we staid in Cedar quite awhile Pa wanted to see the doctor and Israel had some business to see about it rained quite hard just before we got here and after and it has been raining quit a lot today it seems just the same it makes me more lonesome because I had counted on seeing you before I came.  Write as soon as you get time, if you feel like you want to Lynn.  I love you and want to do all I can for your happiness.  from your mother (Emily Alvira Hoyt)
This letter was written 1½ months after Mama and Daddy were married.  Daddy's parents had gone to Riverside to help their daughter, Lillie, when she had her second baby.
167 E Ninth
Riverside, Calif.
Nov 27, 1927
Dear Lynn and Amy, I received your Letter was sure glad to hear from you  I sure thought I would answer Amy's letter before this it was such a nice letter and it made me feel good to get it I am sure glad you folks are getting along So well and you have my faith and prayers that you will always feel that way we have been here a week today and it seems about a month since we left St. George Lillie and baby are getting along alright now.  Lillie had quite a time with her stomach for the first four days she is in a maternity cottage in stead of a hospital she will be home Wednesday or Thursday I will be glad when she comes...it upset Pa coming down traveling in the night and he has been nervous and has not slept very good and that means I have not had much sleep since we got here and I am to sleepy to write..the 29 Pa and Frank went of yesterday morning before daylight so Wendell and I had the house all to ourselves till dark we received Lawrence and Lucy's letter yesterday and will answer them in a day or two pa says he will be in St George on the fifth of Dec  Maybe you can't read this letter write soon from your loving Mother

And then this letter, written two years later when Shirley was eight months old:
Orderville, December 10, 1929
Dear Lynn, I was sure glad to get your letter.  I was begining to wonder if you had forgoten you had a Mother that loved you just as much as ever and thought about you and prayed for you every day.
You are beginning to find out what it is to have a family  somebody to do for and think and worry about besides yourself  we are quite well I guess Lawrence told you about Willard  he has sure been sick but they seem to think he will get alright  Israel and Chastie are both down there with him now  Lenna came home yesterday and her and Levoy will go back down Thursday and Israel and Chastie will come home  Lenna says she is going to stay down there as long a Willard does and that will be a month or more  Lawrence has bought William Heaton's place  if they move away are you and Amy going to have part of our house  it is to big for us  we would need to have the water fixed differ't and some other changes made but mabe you do not want to  I would sure like it if you would it is bed time so good night from your loving
                                         Mother
PS I am sending Lillie's letter thought mabe you would like to know how they are getting along

Letters say a lot.
EMILY ALVIRA HOYT
by Lillie Esplin Harmon
My mother, Emily Alvira Hoyt Esplin, was born the 8th of December, 1858, in Nephi, Juab County, Utah.  She was the daughter of Israel Hoyt and Clarissa Amanda Miller Hoyt.  She was the sixth child in a family of ten children.
Emily spent her younger years and until after she was married, under pioneer conditions.  She learned early how to knit and from the time she was six or seven was expected to knit her own stockings.  All clothes were handmade and the girls learned early to sew a fine seam and to hem.  They would have a good woolen dress for Sunday best in winter; for school a woolen dress (probably last year’s best), with a pinafore apron.  In summer they had calico prints and if mother wanted a dress with ruffles, it was up to her to hem all the yards of ruffles by hand.  A piece of ribbon for her hair was a rare luxury.
Mother had curly dark brown hair and blue gray eyes.  As a child she wore her hair in ringlets.  She said she would much rather have had her hair in two braids, like her sisters wore theirs; but she had a small round bald spot, caused by an infection on the back of her head.  Right where the part would come if she wore her hair in braids, so she had to suffer with curls, imagine that.
Her first school was in the home of her teacher.  Sometimes the older girls were expected to take turns tending the teacher's baby.  At home she learned to sew, knit, embroider, crochet, cook, and make soap.  In her teens she learned how to spin yarn.
Her father and mother were a part of the Muddy Mission, along with the Esplins, Samuel Claridge, Isaiah Bowers and the George Harmons.  When my mother was twelve years of age, they were released from the Muddy Mission and they moved to Long Valley in March.  They settled first in the somewhat established town of Mt. Carmel.  When the United Order was established in 1875, they moved further east and established a new town there.  In the company going to Long Valley was the Esplin family.  Margaret Esplin was just Mother's age, and one of her best friends and of course, she couldn't help noticing how Johnny Esplin was growing up -- fourteen now and growing tall.
When Mother was fifteen years old, the Saints were counseled by President Young to organize the settlements in Long Valley under the principle of the United Order.  Those who were in favor of the United Order decided to move a few miles up the valley and build a new town, which they called Orderville.  Mother's father, Israel Hoyt, was heartily in favor of this way of life as given by the prophets of this Latter-day Church.  He was chosen as the first president of the Order when it was organized in Mt. Carmel.
On the 10th of July, l876, when Mother was seventeen, she was married in the Salt Lake Endowment House to John James Esplin.  They were blessed with twelve children.
Mother didn't do much traveling.  One outstanding trip she made was to go with father to Salt Lake to the dedication of the Salt Lake Temple.
In 1924, and for several years after that, Mother and Father worked as ordinance workers in the St. George Temple.
On February 17, 1930, she passed away.

In checking how we are related to royalty both in the Church and in the world, all our connections come through Grandma Esplin.  We share common ancestry with George H. W. Bush, Joseph Smith, Edgar The Peaceable, King of England, and William Shakespeare all through the Hoyt line.
—and that’s My Tribute to my Grandma Esplin, who died six years before I was born, and two months after she wrote the above letter, just to set the record straight. 

Saturday, March 5, 2011

TO MY FAMILY

January 5, 2011

I’m bummed tonight.
We got the results of our blood tests back today.
I have sugar diabetes also.
Additionally, my cholesterol is 305.
It doesn’t seem to matter how much you exercise;
How well you eat;
There’s still trouble brewing.
I guess that’s the way we get out of here.

I forgot to tell you my last bit of bad news.
I also have osteoporosis
(mainly manifest in lower back pain).
Of course, I already knew that but
I thought it would go away with my good intentions.
The doctor thinks my Hashimoto's Disease
is more insidious than sugar diabetes.
It's an autoimmune disease and can lead to lupus,
fibromyalgia, cancer and pages of other possibilities.

To sum it up,
I think I have a pretty impressive resume’
considering how healthy I am:
Tumor that has taken my
hearing and balance on one side
leaving incessant pounding in my deaf ear.
Osteoarthritic knees that hurt
if I move or don’t move.
Acid Reflux.
Bowel Blockage.
Bleeding horrible hemorrhoids.
Chronic bladder infection.
Intermittent Staph infection
(along with Eddy).
Infertility:
Surgery for endometriosis.
Artificial eardrum;
Mastoid surgery.
Lump removed from breast.
Oh, yes, and broken shoulder;
From a nasty ski fall
that left me many a night
wishing I had asked them
to just cover me over with snow;
rather than carry me off the mountain.
Allergic reactions;
Now I’m supposed to be gluten intolerant.
Bread is the staff of life
For goodness sake.
Corns, root canals, crowns, TMJ, plantar warts.

Oh forget it; too many.
Yet none debilitating
Like so many live with everyday.
I can still walk and swim
and ride my trike.
Hear some.
See some.

Joy.

Actually,
Ed said it best:
“I’m enjoying the earth ride
so get off my back.”

Monday, February 28, 2011

GENEROSITY


Life is sweet sometimes.
Amy and I were gathering snacks
From the trunk of her car
To eat on the drive home
From the Bryce Winter Festival.
“Where’s my bread?
Have you seen it?”
“No.  Can’t you find it?”
“I can’t.”
Being on a gluten-free diet
For two months now;
DeRay made special bread
From buckwheat and rice.
Next car to us,
Two foreign-speaking women
had been eating lunch
Out of their trunk.
“Can’t you find your bread?
Here’s some for you.”
“Oh, no, we have bread.”
She paid no attention
Intend on sharing;
She handed us two slices.
We added it to our bag of bread.
Even when we got home
That bread, so freely given,
though I couldn’t eat it,
Warmed the cockles of my heart.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

FOUL

Well, let’s see,
For two months now
DeRay and I have cut out
  1. All dairy.
  2. All grains.
  3. All sugar.
My long-cherished favorite foods.
Impressive.
Ah – the will-power;
The determination.
Yes!  The sacrifice.
The emptiness.
No kidding.
I resisted Amy’s delicious-looking
Peanut butter cookies
With a big chocolate kiss on top;
The sugar cookies the neighbor children
Brought to Eddy;
Even the Christmas See’s candy
From our hometeacher.
This is getting personal.
Exercising faithfully.
Plus we are taking $5000 each
Vitamins and supplements.
Seriously.
Nonetheless,
The trend is moving in the wrong direction.
Evoking this,
Upon awakening, I muse:
“I wonder how much
my blood sugar has gone up;
and how much weight I’ve gained today.”

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Memories that surface when someone dies.

Louis Lavar Pratt
Published: February 07. 2011 4:55AM
KANAB — Louis Lavar Pratt passed away on February 3, 2011 at his home in Kanab, Utah. Lou was born June 30, 1933, the only child to Lavar Orson and Clara Cram Pratt. He lived most of his life in Kanab.  While in the Army in New York, he met Frances Louise Welch. After a 7 day courtship they were married and returned to Utah. Later they lived on Beach Street in Henderson, Nevada where he was employed with the Las Vegas Metro Police & at TIMET Plant where they made Titanium Metals. In 1973 Lou and Fran moved their family back to Kanab, and Lou worked at Arizona Fuels until he retired in 1983.  Lou enjoyed spending time at the cabin that he built with his parents and family at Swains Creek on Cedar Mountain. He loved the outdoors and anything that had to do with fishing, hunting & camping. He enjoyed jeeping and later 4-wheeling with his friends. He listened to Tradio every morning on the radio and made lots of deals over the phone. He enjoyed reading the Nifty Nickel and watching any program on TV about wildlife. He loved to wheel and deal on anything from cars to guns to property.  Survivors include wife Frances; children Kathy (J.Lowe) Barton, Beverly (Gus) Carayas and Louis Jr. (Traci) Pratt; grandsons Seth Michael Barton, Joshua J. Barton, Evan Carayas, Nicholas Clyde Pratt, and Justin Louis Pratt; granddaughters Sarah Butts, Jessica Hoff, Robyn Carayas, and Rebecca Nelson; and great-grandchildren Kamryn & Troy Black, Samara Stark, Jaxon Butts and Michael Rowe.  Services will be held Monday, February 7, 2011 at 1:00 PM at Mosdell Mortuary, with a viewing from 12:00 Noon to time of service. Interment with Military honors by American Legion Post 69 will be in the Kanab Cemetery. Services arranged with Mosdell Mortuary.
My brother, Jerry, said the last time he talked to Keith Tilley he remembered the incident in Orderville so many years ago.  Keith came down from Utah State with my brothers, Lynn and DeLoy, for the Thanksgiving weekend.  As was our custom, after the dance we invited everyone to our house for games and fun.  My best friend, Georgia, had dated Louis Pratt a little (I double-dated with his friend, Kent Nash) so he and his no-good buddies were messing around outside.  They actually opened up one of the windows in our front room that had never been opened.  It was painted shut.  When that happened, the guys went outside to see what was going on.  They all came in laughing because they had scared them away.  “That one kid didn’t want to fight because I asked him,” Larry, our strong veteran cousin, bragged.  Then DeLoy came in.  He was bleeding.  Louis had hit him with a pipe wrench.  It wasn’t funny anymore. 
I don’t remember if it was that night or another night but we were afraid of them so we drove Georgia home.  Lynn walked her in, just to keep her safe.  When he came back out, Louis called him over to the car.  When Lynn got close, Louis grabbed him and drove off.  He was really a trouble-maker.  They were horrific for no good reason.  A classmate, DeRay ran with him a little bit.  He has no good memories.  Kent straightened up and even got active in the church in later years.  I saw him at a wedding reception in Vegas once.  Reading the obituary, it sounds like Louis grew up too.  The thing of it was, the guys from Valley didn’t fight.  At least, not our big group who was everyone who wasn’t married from 15-16 years through 35—my age through Shirley’s; before and beyond.  She started the parties, then one New Year’s Eve after she was teaching school, she found her true love and left Georgia and me holding the bag while she ran off to New Castle to be with him.  I cried big tears and told her she was a deserter and questioned how she could be so mean.  I remember Georgia and me lying up on my bed before the dance, scared to death, promising that next year we would have a party with just us and our boyfriends.  However, the parties, well-established, were so much fun that we sponsored them until we both got married.
Georgia and I double-dated with lots of guys.  She went with a guy from Cedar named Charlie Peterson and I went with Doug Maxwell.  Doug had first cousins in Glendale.  I wrote to Doug all the time he was on his mission and in the service.  Amy still uses the jewelry box he sent me from Japan.  But I never planned to marry him, as he did me according to rumor.  (His dad delivered gas to my cousin in Enterprise.)  I always planned to marry my true love, DeRay, who was away in the Service in Germany while I was graduating from high school and going to business college in Salt Lake City.
Back to Louis Pratt, when I was in Salt Lake living with Bishop Terry and JaNee while going to business school, Louis came to town so he called and asked if I would like to go out.  Georgia was married by this time; barefoot and pregnant; bottling peaches.  Bishop Terry said that was the nicest young man who had come calling in all winter.  I didn’t breathe a word of Louis’ reputation.  He was a perfect gentleman that night.  Just friends, sort of. 
My friend and cousin, Mary Lee Esplin, and I went to Salt Lake together to attend Henager’s School of Business.  There was a program where you could live with families and help out and get board and room free.  I was lucky enough to get in with the Terrys.  JaNee’s mother had died a lingering cancer death the year before.  Besides being bishop, Bishop Terry was on the police force (and dating) so he was gone a lot.  He wanted someone to keep JaNee company after the sorrow of the past year.  We prepared meals together and did the housework.  I had a lot of time to study and was treated like a member of the family. 
Of all our friends at Henager’s who did this, I was the only one who lasted the school year out.  Mary Lee got in with a socialite family who expected her to feed and tend the children every single night while they went out.  She was the youngest in her family (after her younger sister died) and was used to being pampered; not accustomed to waiting on anyone.  She didn’t last two months, moving in with our older cousin who had lived in Salt Lake City after her marriage.  Beverly Church, our new friend from Panguitch, got in with a family with lots of children where the husband chased her around the table.  She moved into the Beehive house, where Nancy Shumway, my rival from Kanab, lived.  She went with Kent Nash also.  When he came to Salt Lake, he didn’t call me, he went with Nancy, making me jealous even though I didn’t even like him.  Along with a couple of guys from Kanab going to the U, we all rode home to Southern Utah together for holidays and such.
Such memories the death of an old acquaintance stirs up.