Did I Mention That I Love My Ward?

I love my ward! Tonight was ward temple night, and I really enjoyed seeing people that I know. Laynie and I sat with our cute little RS Pres (Hi Cari!), and she signed with Laynie. Yes, the ward is learning to sign. It's so neat when several people say hi to Laynie and sign some basics with her.

One sister came up to Laynie after the session and started signing.... and she hasn't even gone to the class Laynie began two weeks ago! I wonder how she learned. How brave of her to come up and start signing when she doesn't know very much.

Now I look forward to going to church instead of [I hate to admit] kind of dreading it.

New Friend and Family History

After a Relief Society activity focusing on family history, I spoke with the woman teaching the class, Mary. She offered to work with me one on one to help me find my ancestors--who seem like they don't want to be found. Challenging. Well, I went to her house yesterday at noon... and didn't leave until 5:30! We chatted, worked on genealogy, and then chatted some more.

And I have already made some progress with my family history and am so excited to get more done.

Washington DC Temple

I love the Washington DC temple. It's where I did proxy baptisms as a youth, and it's where I received my endowment. I was so glad that my stake in New York was in this temple district when I was endowed! We switched to the Boston temple shortly thereafter, and later we were in the Manhattan temple district. I love those temples, and they may be prettier inside, but the Washington DC temple has a special place in my heart.

Although I detest Beltway traffic, it's neat when you take the outer loop, because the temple suddenly rises to greet you as you come around a bend.

Isn't this next picture cool? God did some of his best landscaping work on Maryland. If you know the area, you can see where Beach Dr winds through the trees. Check out the stake center, north of the temple--it looks so tiny!

When you finally turn in to the parking lot, you see the temple again:

It is truly magnificent! I'm so glad that I went today. I stayed for over an hour after my session was done, because I didn't want to leave. It was so peaceful.

While I was there I had an attack of what's troubling me, and it was scary... but at the same time not. I can't say that I didn't get upset, but I just moved slowly and stayed until I knew I could manage my legs effectively. I used the time to pray and read and think. And cry. And pray some more. I got some good advice. I should write it down, since I'm so forgetful lately!

As I was leaving the temple, I got an email from my ward Relief Society presidency. This Wednesday is stake temple day! As in, two days from now. I thought it was next week, since our stake conference is not this coming Sunday but next. But I'm not complaining... going twice in one week would be great. If I can be done with my IEP meeting that afternoon in time to get down to the temple by 5:00. Yes, they're meeting quite early.

Alright, I'll wrap this up. I'm so glad I took the time today to go to the temple!

Grateful...

I...

Qualified to buy a condo on my own, despite being way over ratio (darn student loans). My dad was willing to co-sign, but it looks like I won't need him to. The guy at the mortgage company kept running the numbers through FHA's system and scratching his head. All he could say was, "I don't know, I guess it likes your credit score..." My hard work at repairing my credit (I was unspeakably dumb between the ages of 18 and 21) paid off.

Have the opportunity to pick up freelance interpreting jobs.

Have the opportunity to tutor wonderful children.

Get to play one of my favorite hymns, "All Creatures of Our God and King" at stake conference. And finally meet the other interpreter in the stake (I was having a super fun medical procedure last time we had stake conference and on vacation the one before, so I haven't met him yet).

Really good at writing IEPs. I get compliments from colleagues and hugs from parents.

Teaching inservices! Woohoo! I love teaching. When I work with kids, I help half a dozen kids a year become more intelligible. When I work with other therapists, I help a hundred kids a year become more intelligible.

Have found support and something like friendship in an unlikely place.

May be able to work full-time this summer. It's almost too good to be true.

Got fantastic advice from the allergist. I don't have allergies (yay) but it was fortuitous that I was referred to him... He's brilliant.

Have the ability to help a friend.

Can go to the temple Monday morning! What a great way to start the week.

Saying Yes

So somebody from church (okay, it was the Bishop) asked me to accompany him for a trombone solo in sacrament meeting on March 13. That's in two weeks! Well, it was when he asked.. now less than two weeks. My mouth said, "Sure," which is what it always says.

He said he wanted to play "The Lord's Prayer." I said I wasn't really familiar with it. He said it has a lot of flats and is kind of hard at the end.

Yesterday, the Bishop emailed the music to me, and this is what he sent.

I'm actually fine with the five flats. I think well in flats for some reason. If you know music, you're probably thinking that it doesn't look so bad, and I thought the same thing. It says lento, which is 56-60 for the quarter note.. slow. But there are few quarter notes. It's all triples, which are three to a quarter note.. math.. 168-180! What killed me were the simultaneous arpeggios on the first two pages. And the jumps in the middle of the last page, where it's down-up-up and up-down-up so quickly, and with 4 or 5 notes in each chord.

The first few times through were pretty painful. Laynie thought I had lost all musical skill--she actually looked worried. She's only seen me play familiar pieces and regular church music; for example, the choir director also gave me a piece of music on Sunday, which I took home and played right through with nary a missed note. I explained to Laynie that the process I was going through with the music from the Bishop is normal, and I'll get better as I build muscle memory for that piece. I used to go through this process regularly in high school, when I did a lot of accompanying and when I was motivated to learn hard music. Just because you can't play something the first time you see it doesn't mean you can't play it. I'll learn it, but it's going to take a lot of work, a lot of time.

I don't know that I'll be so quick to say yes next time.

Oh, who am I kidding... Of course I will.

My inability to say no affects me at work, as well. Despite being busy with my own caseload, I can't help but say yes when others ask me to consult on their cases or observe a kid or whatever. Case in point: Today I went with one a resource SLP to visit an adorable little boy with hearing loss and cleft palate. The resource gal is a friend of mine, but I didn't know the SLP assigned to that elementary school, the one who was working with the child regularly.

As I listened to the child's speech and language errors, which were many, it was immediately apparent to me that the speech errors were mainly due to issues related to the cleft. Hearing loss seemed to be impacting his language to some degree, but the articulation errors were classic cleft palate speech. He reminded me of a couple of kids I worked with in the past.

Following a consult visit like this, it's customary to discuss observations/findings/recommendations with the SLP working with the child regularly. Typically they give lip service to agreeing with you, argue a few points, thank you for your time, and go back to doing what they were doing. Not so in this case.

She argued with everything we said. Not politely disagreeing but becoming quite agitated. The things she said were absolutely off the wall. All I could think was a. Is this person for real? and b. Why did she ask for help and then reject everything we said?

And there's more to the situation.. I'm not even going to get into it. Sometimes fighting for the best interests of a child involves fighting a powerful machine. And I HATE educational politics.

I don't know that I'll be so quick to say yes next time I'm asked to consult.

Ack. Yes I will.

I was going to close the post here, but I was just thinking about another time that I said yes. Last year, an SLP posted a question on the conference about two tough preschool articulation cases. I emailed some suggestions to her, which began a dialogue about how to work with a problem like the little boys'. It happened to be a specialty area of mine. At the next speech meeting (all the SLPs get together for instruction and once a month), she found me and somehow convinced me to come out to her school to see the boys for myself and give suggestions. As you might imagine, I wasn't difficult to convince.

I went out and had some suggestions. She didn't argue with a thing; she took notes! She thanked me profusely as I left and seemed quite genuine. I felt great that I had helped her and that the boys would make more progress now.

Months went by. This past fall (so probably six months later), she tracked me down at a speech meeting again to tell me how the boys were doing. One was doing great, and the other had made little progress. She understood what to do with him now, which was progress, but she still couldn't get him to say the sounds he needed to say next. Of course I agreed to go out and see him.

The first time I went out, this little guy was so shy that he wouldn't speak directly to me. The other SLP ran the session. The second time, I ran the session--I brought fun toys and games and was EXTRA fun and SUPER silly, and the little boy was willing to play me and try what I asked him to try. I was lucky, because I got him to say one of the target sounds. The other SLP, who was again taking notes, nearly cried. She had been working on that since the spring. He said it about a dozen times for me, and I passed the baton to her.

After that visit, she and I talked for a long time, about work and also about her personal life, some of the hardships she'd been through in the past few years. This time, we didn't part with a "thank you" and "oh no problem." We parted with a hug, as new friends.

Which goes to show that saying yes is a very good thing.

"Sister Hasting Taught Us.."

I've was out of Primary last week and the week before.. but back in today. Playing the piano! Fun times. The music leader was introducing a new song today, The Books of the Old Testament. I may have mentioned this song before.

Right, so the music leader had me play the first line, and apparently no one recognized it. Well, my kids have never actually heard the music--just my lousy voice. As I looked around, only four of the eight kids in my class last year were here: three girls and a boy. And one of the girls only comes to church about once a month. But I would think that one of the other three would recognize it! Oh, well.

Then the music leader asked if anyone knew the first book of the Old Testament. One hand--one of my girls. Then the light went off in the other three kids' heads, and they about leapt from their chairs to answer the rest of her questions: "And what comes after Genesis? Does anyone know how to say this long word? And what comes after that?" Four hands up after every question.

Then one of my girls said (with typical 10-year-old patience), "We already know this song."

Poor music leader. She stuttered for a minute. I know exactly what was going through her head: This is all I have planned for today! She asked how they knew the song, and the same girl responded, "Sister Hasting taught us in class."

The music leader was visibly relieved. She still needed to teach the song to everyone else.

She had them sing the first line (four books) and stop... and naturally my smart alecky class didn't stop but softly sang as she told them, "We're not ready for that yet!"

So then she decided to challenge them. This was mainly directed at two girls. My boy (my favorite student) was also singing, just not so obviously showing off that he knew this wordy song. He's a respectful kid. The music leader said that they would sing that first line again as a group, then she would have me play until she didn't hear anyone singing. They would be on their own, singing for as long as they could last.

We haven't sung this song since probably November. I thought they might get lost at Lamentations--they've certainly never sung it on their own. And it's a difficult song, because you're basically just memorizing words in isolation, without the benefit of context.

But wrong me! (Yes, I speak ASL sometimes. So?) Those little angels got all but the last two books.

About a minute later, I heard one say to another, exasperatedly, "It was Zechariah, Malachi!" Hey, at least she knew where to find them, even if she didn't remember every book.

This was a big reminder to me that kids really do listen and remember what you teach them, so make sure it's something worthwhile! Of course I was very, very proud of them.

And a wee bit amused at a certain non-Hasting-fan-club adult's slack-jawed expression as my kids rocked what is arguably the most difficult Primary song.

Change Is Good?

I've been teaching the 8- to 10-year-old Primary (junior Sunday school) class for the past few years. I had a challenging group last year and the year before, mainly because of two children with disruptive, disrespectful behavior. One was in my class two years ago, while he was 10 turning 11. He was supposed to be in the next class up, but he and another boy his age were too much together, so they put him in my class. The other boy was in my class while he was 8 turning 9 (a younger) and again last year while he was 9 turning 10 (an older). Last year, I had a particularly large class of nine children, including the one disrespectful child, one with moderately severe autism, and one with severe learning disabilities as well as behavior issues. The one with learning disabilities ended up being pulled out in March so that a teacher could work one on one with him, which improved his attitude, if not his gospel knowledge. The child with autism had spotty attendance. So my main challenge was the disrespectful child, who hated me (along with his parents and basically every adult on the planet). We got through it. Now he hates Sister Frye, and may heaven help her.

When I learned that I would continue teaching the 8- to 10-year-olds this year, I was excited, because a. the curriculum was the New Testament; b. I would have the youngers from last year's class, including one boy that I cherish; and c. the new youngers seemed like great kids. The child with autism and mister surly were both olders last year, so now they are youngers in the next class up, the 10- to 12-year-old class. As far as I knew, the child with learning disabilities would continue to have his one-on-one teacher.

The first Sunday of this year, I was surprised to fine him seated at the table (I have a long table in my room, so that the kids have somewhere to put their scriptures, which we make frequent use of) along with his age mates. Surprise! I ran and grabbed the Primary president to make sure he was in the right place, and she said, "Oh, I put him back in your class, so he'll be with you this year, thank you." Communication? Never mind.

That was challenging, and I had to stop the lesson many times to ask him to stop humming or moaning or poking his neighbor or what have you. But we made it through. One girl, a younger, apparently had different expectations on her last year, because she spent a lot of time chatting with neighbors. We had a little talk after class, and she was quite chastened. I chose her as a special helper the following week to make sure she knew I wasn't holding it against her, and she has been good as gold ever since. They all have.

I have the best class, seriously. I have eight kids: four boys and four girls. I love them all, even the ones I have only been teaching for a month. The curriculum is fantastic, and I've been chomping at the bit to get to the stories and parables. (So far we've talked about who Jesus is, and we had one lesson on John the Baptist.)

Today, before church started, the second counselor in the bishopric asked to talk to me. No! I gave a talk and said a prayer in sacrament fairly recently... maybe he wanted to talk about single adult activities (which are nonexistent, but they want me to go to the planning meetings for said nonexistent activities)? No, it was about callings. You guessed it: I'm not going to teach that class regularly anymore. Instead, I'm going to be a senior Primary (ages 7-12) permanent sub.

:(

Of course, I agreed, but I felt like crying. I still feel like crying. I love my class so much, and I will miss them. We've bonded. They gelled faster than any class I've taught. As a contrast, last year's class took a good two months to gel.

I also got a new calling: ward organist. They already have a ward organist, but we're going to share the duties. I guess we'll alternate weeks or something; I need to talk with her about it. So now I'm interpreting, playing the organ, and sometimes teaching Primary. I like all of those things, and I'm willing to do them. Everyone seems to dismiss interpreting like it's no big deal, but it's by far the most demanding of the three. For me, anyway.

I'm really going to miss my class. It's so wrong, but I feel like no one else will teach them like I could. I'm worried that one will go down the dark path his older brother has (that 10/11-year-old I had two years ago? his older brother, who is 12 and has fallen in the abyss known as Young Men). I've built a strong relationship with the younger brother, though, and I can get him to do things like put down the hood of his hooded sweatshirt, read scriptures, and even sing. He's too cool for school--you know the type. Today he unslouched during sharing time, which is a first. I finally hit on a strategy that is working for him and another boy, that helps them behave appropriately during sharing time and even participate. I was really hoping to get this boy to meet with the bishop and talk about something that's been bothering him since last summer, and I'm a bit distressed that we haven't gotten to that point.

I will miss another boy so much, because he is just full of light. He's going to be a general authority, count on it. I've been in Primary for 10 or 15 years, in four different wards, and this is the most pure child I have ever encountered. He just wants to be good. He has grown into such an excellent student. In the past year, he has gone from a vacant-eyed, sit-and-nod-your-head automaton (I actually thought he had a low IQ when I first interacted with him) to an energetic, first-one-to-raise-a-hand risk-taker, who is developing faith and critical thinking skills. He has really blossomed, and I consider myself privileged to experience the transformation in him.

I will also miss a girl I have only been teaching for a month. Yup, one of the youngers. She is bright and loves to learn about the gospel. She wasn't in my class last year, but I guess she has learned a lot at home. That is not at all a given--none of the others seem to know anything that I haven't told them. Poor memory for things their parents say, I guess. But not this girl: she's on the ball. We were talking today about some of the things that Mary and Joseph were told about Jesus before he was born. One was that Jesus would reign over Jacob. So I asked, "Who is Jacob?" We reviewed the lineage of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob (the olders studied the Old Testament last year, but this was new information for the youngers), and I crossed out Jacob's name, explaining that it was changed to something else. To what? This little girl about fell out of her seat, waving her hand. And she knew the answer! Israel. She reminds me of myself: often knowing the answer and eager to say it, but keeping quiet if not totally sure of herself. Especially with the "what do you think about..." and "why do you suppose..." questions. But she is starting to take risks and describe her line of thought or give a good guess, not just try to predict what I want her to say. She is developing rapidly. Who wouldn't want to teach a child like that?

There are five more that I enjoy and will miss. I realize that not teaching every week is a blessing, that it means I can go to Sunday School (which I LOVE)... And I can visit the ward that has a deaf teenager and people who sign, which Laynie desperately needs.... But I grieve to leave the children I love. This class was my reward for making it through the last two years without wringing anyone's neck!

But I am looking forward to playing the organ, and I'm happy that Laynie will get what she needs sometimes. And I am very much looking forward to the times that my kids' new teachers are absent and I get to sub for their class.

Small World

The deaf world (well, Deaf world) is famous for being small. In fact, I remember "small world" being a phrase I learned very early on in ASL, when the teacher showed us her old boss on the Signing Naturally video.

A couple of weeks ago, I interpreted for a woman who asked me listen to her hearing daughter and tell her if the child was pronouncing words wrong... and later one of my students brought in a "My Weekend" book with the very same child's face in all the pictures.

The LDS world is apparently also small.

I work on the Pals team, which includes special educators, paraeducators, and related service providers from different schools all over the county. A few years ago, when I started on the team, I found out that one of the paras was LDS. Actually, she figured out that I was, because I wore a BYU sweatshirt.

This past Saturday, I agreed to help set up for the Relief Society broadcast activity at the stake center. When I got there, they didn't need help setting up in the gym, which they anticipated needing me for, so I helped out in the kitchen. There were three ladies on the kitchen team. They were each at least old enough to be my mother and had known each other for upwards of 20 years, and it was hard for me to get a foothold in their chatter... until I heard one mention that at her school they did such and such. I asked if she works in Howard County.. yes..

me: Oh, so do I. Which school?

Deep Run Elementary.

me: I work at Waverly Elementary.

Oh really, what do you do there?

me: I'm a speech language pathologist. [getting ready to explain what that is]

So am I! I work in the RECC.

me: I work in the deaf/hh program and the Pals program. [she knows that Pals is a RECC program]

That's right. Not only do we work for the same school district and share the same profession, we even work in the same "specialty" of the RECC (meaning preschool/kindergarten). And we happened to be in that small group of people preparing food for the RS broadcast dinner.

It makes me wonder how many other members of the church work for Howard County. I know that they had another LDS freelance interpreter until she moved last year. When the interpreter coordinator first hired me and found out I was LDS (BYU on my resume gave me away), she told me that, as well as how much she loved LDS people. She had a great neighbor who was a member of the church.

When she hired me, I'm sure she thought, "Small world!"

They Are Listening!

I blogged here about how I began singing the Books of the Old Testament song to my Primary class in February, and that I was excited that they had finally begun joining in to sing with me almost two months later. The reason I introduced this song to them was because it's what helps me find scriptures, and I was thinking along the lines of "teach a man to fish." I could just tell them the page numbers, or I could give them the same references they will use for the rest of their lives (chapters/verses) and teach them how to find the scriptures themselves. After each time we sing the song, I tell them where we will be for the lesson and sing a bit of the song, kind of making my thoughts audible. "Today we will begin with 1 Kings, chapter 17. Hm, Deuteronomy, Joshua, Judges, Ruth, Samuel, Samuel, Kings... that's the one! So I'll start kind of close to the beginning and I'll know I'm on the right track if I see Joshua or one of the Samuels. First Samuel.. First Kings!" Totally stream-of-consciousness. And I stream-of-consciousness them, too: "Leah, I see you're on the right track! You're in Joshua.. keep going.. Samuel, Samuel, there it is, Kings!" Yes, I get a bit cheerleadery. Scripture skills are important. The kids humor me, probably because I'm so happy when they find the chapter they are looking for.

But I hadn't heard the kids use this strategy themselves. Until today!

We were in Sharing Time (large group: our class plus two others), and my class was split into two groups; each group was to read a scripture and identify which gospel standard (from a list) related to that scripture. I worked with the two boys, and the three girls were going to work on their own. They were given the scripture Exodus 20:7. I was listening to make sure they began on the right track, when I heard one of the girls, the youngest child in my class, who never raises her hand, who speaks inaudibly when called on in Sharing Time, about whom I have worried so much that I was almost ready to call her mother to make sure the child was happy in class and it wasn't too far over her head (presuming competence, I pretty much teach them like they were Seminary students, filling in gaps as needed)... this timid child said to the two older girls she was working with, "Genesis, Exodus, oh, it's gonna be near the front."

The things I do make a difference. I floated home from church today on cloud nine.

Similarly to Phyllis Nefler...

...I've lost my will to blog!

Maybe not exactly lost my will... I want to write things, but sometimes I'm lazy, sometimes I'm busy, and sometimes I just can't say that "in public." The internet is as public as it gets, right? So that means I can't say much about work.

But I can say some things about work. I went back two weeks ago, and the kids started last week. Yippee. I didn't really get a summer break, because I was working. Not full time, but still.. working. Blah. I'm happy to have my deaf kiddos back, though. One child has been SO on the ball since coming back. Our fingers are crossed that it continues. They're all doing at least as well as they were in the spring, which is a relief.

I haven't begun working with my Pals children yet. Pals is an itinerant position where my county has me visit children in private preschools and daycares to work with them there, rather than bringing the children into special education preschools. It's wonderful for children whose disabilities are not severe, and it's wonderful for parents who are uncomfortable with the idea of special education. This week, Pals team members will meet with parents and settings to get an agreement signed so that we can work with the children again this school year. Hopefully we can start seeing the kids next week.

Speaking of Pals... my Pals "home base" has been one school, Dayton Oaks Elementary, while the deaf program is in another school, Waverly Elementary. Dayton is not close to any of the preschools and daycares where I have Pals students, so I didn't really make it out there much last year. I guess it was my home base because I worked with preschool students in the Dayton Oaks special education preschools two years ago, so it made sense. It no longer makes sense, so I asked the powers that be to have my basehood transferred to Waverly. A couple of hours later, I was officially a full-time Waverly person! Not that I'll spend more time there than I already did, because it is just as far from the Pals preschools/daycares... but it will be easier to decide what to do on days when preschool has no services, professional days, etc. Mainly, it will decrease my guilt at only hitting up Dayton Oaks once a quarter. They had even started sending my mail to Waverly by the end of last school year. Yeah. I was "that" person.

This year, I get to work with little guys and gals who have hearing loss, language disabilities, autism, selective mutism, speech disabilities, cognitive impairment, and autism. And my caseload is still small. It will grow, as it always does. But it looks like a have a bit of variety to begin with, and I'm really looking forward to the challenge of selective mutism. It means the child understands everything (or at least as well as others the same age) but refuses to speak to most people. Typically, they will speak in their home, without strangers present, or they will speak to other children at school but not to any adults. Fun times, right? When you can help them feel secure enough to communicate with more people, it's the best.

So, there is already drama in one of my programs. I won't go into it, but I'm just mentioning it because it brings me to one of the highlights of my work week. I had the opportunity to sit down with some professionals while they worked out issues, and I tried to be a neutral party. It wasn't hard, because I could see both of their perspectives. I was also trying to defend one person I know has a tendency to freeze and lose her train of thought when under pressure--but I tried to do so without offending another person, who is someone I respect and who, frankly, has a great deal of power. Afterward, two people higher up on the food chain told me that they were pleased that I was on the team at this school, that I was a good communicator, had a level head... just saying nice things. One of them is a person I never thought particularly cared for me, so it was nice to hear that from her. Hope she tells my boss!

Aside from work... let's see...

I got to babysit the twins again! Oh my, I haven't blogged in so long, I probably haven't mentioned the first time I babysat them. A couple from church has twin baby girls, who are about 8 months old now; last month, while Laynie was at her family reunion, I babysat them. First non-family babysitter, which was probably because their very young mom respects me as a former nanny. Whatever, I got to play with babies!!!!! They are so cute, and their personalities are already so different. One is adventurous and independent (backward-crawling into corners and under furniture), and the other is a bit clingier but likes to be up high and see everything. And she has an infectious giggle. Of course, they are both delightful. Well, last week, Laynie got to go with me and babysit them again. It was much easier with two people! Naturally, I got the fun jobs like booger-extracting (both had colds) and diarrhea-diaper-changing, but it was so nice to have company and an extra set of hands. One (Miss Independent) was HILARIOUS when I fed her. Even after having her nose suctioned, she couldn't breathe and eat at the same time, so she would greedily slurp for as long as I left the bottle in her mouth. The formula would run down into her neck folds... oh gosh. She would noisily suck on the bottle until I pulled it from her mouth, which would about every 10 seconds. I was afraid she'd drown herself! Then she'd gasp for air, milk running right out of her mouth. Laynie was cracking up. Miss Independent's sister, Miss Giggles, is going with "starve a cold." I know, 8-month-olds don't make very good decisions. Anyway, I had a great time with the girls, and I'm about ready to call their mom and ask if she doesn't have something she needs to do outside the home... child-free.

Ah, church. Church is great. My class is great. I never know who's going to be there, because apparently some families take loooooong vacations... and some take many vacations. But I love, love, love my kiddos. They are professional tangent-inducers. And I am always good for a digression, so we're a great team. Yesterday, a lesson on Rehoboam and the impact of peer pressure devolved into a 10-minute discussion on who Jews are and what the deal is with Hanukkah, which they now want to celebrate. Oy vey.

On to my next topic: Bug. Laynie is still a happily-implanted girl. I laugh when one of her batteries dies and she has to take off the other one, because hearing with one ear is just not pleasant. What a Picky Patricia! I guess I can't knock it, because I haven't been there. It IS pretty annoying if I lie down to watch TV and a pillow blocks one of my ears. I guess having NO hearing in one ear would be worse. But she had no hearing in *both* ears for so long! Anyway, she can still understand some simple words in context. She understood something recently that surprised me.. I'm trying to remember what it was. Oh, yeah. I was in the bathroom, and Laynie yelled through the door, "What do you want for dinner?" I understood her (yay!) and called back, "I don't know!" She understood me (a billion yays!) and said, "You don't know??" It was a really productive conversation. The other day when I stayed late--very late--at work, I guess Laynie got worried, because she called my cell phone. I showed it to my friend, Cindy, teacher of the deaf, who got all excited. She got to hear a scintillating call, which went something like this:

Me: Hello?

Laynie: Hi, Annie.

Me: Hi.

Laynie: Are you coming home?

Me: Yes.

Laynie: OK.

Me: OK.

Laynie: Bye.

Me: Bye.

Cindy got all misty-eyed, saying how she would have loved to have had even that simple a conversation with her deaf mother over the phone. Cindy's such a good egg. I can always count on her for a cheer when little listening triumphs happen. I'm sure there have been more of those little triumphs lately, but I just can't think of any. It's going to take a long time for Laynie to learn to listen--especially if I continue to sign voice-off! After a couple of tough years learning not only to turn off my voice when I sign but not even to mouth English words (ASL grammar!), it's really hard to use my voice at home. It's hard to remember, and it feels awkward when I do. Usually, I only use my voice when I'm mad. Not that I get mad... Anyway, I always notice the quietness of my home after my sister has been around. We get pretty noisy together, and the difference is glaring. Laynie always comments on how LOUD we are, and Katie tosses back, "Quit being so hearing then!"

Laynie is getting very good at identifying environmental sounds. She can describe a sound (with classifiers, which turn out to be far superior for describing sounds than any English words) and predict what probably made that sound. Next stop, speech? I guess time will tell.

Well, isn't this just like me? Once I get going, there's no stopping me! I guess I'll call it quits for today. I hope everyone is having a wonderful start to the school year, fall, and whatever other transitions are going on in your lives.

Scary

This morning began like every other Sunday morning. I got up around 5:30 and prepared my Primary lesson, got ready for church, etc. We were planning to leave early, at 8:00 instead of 8:30, so that we could get there early and decide where to sit--basically so that I could see where I needed to sit in order to see Laynie at the lectern. Laynie was speaking in church today. Second speaker... perfect position in the lineup.

We left around 8:05. I knew that we would get there later than we had planned, but I didn't feel like speeding. I wanted to keep my stress level down this morning, so I drove less, shall we say, "competitive" than usual. We were about halfway to church, driving on Route 30. It's a long, country road, with just one lane going each way, but the speed limit is 50 mph. As we came over the crest of a hill, I saw a gold SUV coming from the other direction drift into my lane. He was coming directly at us! It felt like it was happening slowly and quickly at the same time. I didn't even honk my horn... I don't remember slowing down, but I might have. I guess I thought he would get back in his lane. But he continued to drift over onto the shoulder of the road (on our side of the road), and I thought he would go right off into the field lining the road. I was wrong! Without slowing down at all, he crashed head-on into the utility pole at the side of the road, going at least 50 mph.

Somehow his car turned so that the passenger side was angled toward us. Laynie said the force of the crash lifted the car off the ground, and it settled back down facing a different direction. I don't remember that. I remember quickly looking around, knowing that I would need to hit my brakes to avoid hitting the wreck (and because I wanted to stop and see if the people were okay and call 911). I pulled over on the shoulder. I called 911, told them what happened, and answered their questions. While I was on the phone, I checked the car and saw that there was only one person: a 40-ish Mexican guy. Also while I was on the phone, two other cars pulled over, who happened to be bossy guys. One started directing traffic (hooray for bossiness), while the other started talking to the Mexican guy. He was pretty out of it, but he kept trying to get out and saying stuff that I couldn't understand. The whole front of his car was pushed in, and he was pinned to the seat. It looked like the lower half of his body had been severed. We couldn't get the passenger door open either, so the other guy who had stopped just opened the door behind the driver (his chair was pushed halfway into the backseat anyway) to talk to him and keep him calm.

As I got off the phone, I noticed a buzzing noise that was increasing in loudness. At first I thought it was coming from the car, but then I realized it was coming from the power lines overhead. They had been damaged by the impact with the pole. It looked like broken wood had partially severed one line, and I was afraid it might snap. I was ready to call 911 and tell them that when the first police car pulled up. He asked us to hang out for a while, that they would want statements from us. Several more police cars arrived, as well as fire trucks and an ambulance.

We began to write out our statements when Laynie pointed out that we really ought to call the church. Of course, I did not have the number. The one that came up on google had been disconnected. Then I called Westminster, and they gave me a number that had been disconnected. Maybe it was the same number... I don't know. I was a little frazzled. Finally I went to the church website and looked up the number (iPhones are really quite handy), but it was busy. By this time, it was about 8:50. The crash had happened at 8:23.. that's when the police officer said he heard from the 911 people. I kept trying to call the church, but the number remained busy. At 9:15, I finally gave up.

Meanwhile, as we were writing our statements, another police officer came up to ask if we were in a hurry to get somewhere. No, Laynie's only speaking in church! He said that this had turned out to be a "special situation," and the investigators would be coming out to get our statements. Turns out the guy was an illegal, and it seems he stole the car or something. They didn't tell us that, but I overheard them talking about his identification and that they couldn't figure out which car the tags belonged to, that the vehicle was not in his name... Anyway, we had to stick around. It's not like we could go anywhere, with all the emergency vehicles blocking us.

A med-evac helicopter came for the guy. He was too critical to be sent by ambulance, because he needed to go to a major trauma center. Like I said we were on a country road, out in the middle of nowhere. That turned out to be convenient for the helicopter, which landed in a field.

We kept working on our statements, and the emergency response team kept working on getting the guy out. Yes, he had been trapped in the car. I wonder if they might have left him in there until the trauma people on the helicopter arrived, because of the way he was pinned? At any rate, the helicopter was there for a good 10 minutes before they finally loaded the guy on.

They had to remove a good portion of the car to get him out. You can see about a quarter of the car has been removed--the windshield, the hood, the dash, and part of the roof.

One exchange with a police officer has stuck with me. He read my statement and asked if the car was in our lane for any length of time or if it had quickly veered over into the pole. I told him that it was in our lane for a while. He looked angry. He asked, "He was driving right at you, in your lane?" Yeah. He just shook his head. That's when it hit me that we could have died. Up until then, I was only thinking about the man in the SUV, but if I had been going a little faster, or if he had drifted a few seconds later, or if things had just been a little different, we could have been in a head-on collision, with both cars going 50 mph.

I felt sick to my stomach. I just wanted to go home. After a couple of the fire trucks left and we were able to get out, which was around 9:25, we started to head home. Laynie and I were both shaking and feeling sick. I guess it's normal to have it come over you after the excitement settles down.

About 5 minutes down the road, we both decided that we wanted to go to church. And I felt strongly that Laynie should go ahead and give her talk, if we got there in time. She thought she was shaking too hard to sign. But she decided to go ahead and do it.

The third speaker had gone in Laynie's place, and we caught the last 5 minutes of his talk. As I sat there, I started to cry, which was exactly why I had wanted to go home in the first place. I knew it would hit me. Just thinking about that man stuck in the car, dying... and how close we came to being seriously hurt or dead ourselves. I prayed for peace, but I didn't feel it. How on earth would I interpret?? I couldn't see through my tears, besides the fact that my voice would betray me. I took out my scriptures and opened up my Book of Mormon. As I started to read, I immediately felt the peace I was seeking. Laynie got up and gave a great talk, and I interpreted it just fine.

Then I taught my Primary class. I was a little spacey at first, but then I was able to focus and it went just fine. One of my problem children was really good today, and another one was halfway decent. Wish I could say the same for my other problem child, but two out of three is not bad. I was really glad that we went ahead and went to church. Now we've been home for about two hours, and every now and then the man's face pops into my head, and I can hear the buzzing and smell the acrid odor. It's scary.

I'm really grateful to Heavenly Father for watching over us.

Figures

I gave a talk in church yesterday, and not only were there a million people there for a baby blessing, the stake president was in attendance. That's pretty much my luck.

And I got a "paraeducator" for my Primary class. Yahoo!!!!!!!

Sweet

One of my students warmed my little heart today in class.

Oh, I'll just talk about the day--I'm kind of bored. :) First, I had a rather large class today. All seven of my "regulars" were there, plus somebody's cousin (who happened to be a well-behaved boy, whew). I separated my two behavior problems, and although I did have to say their names and give them the look a few times, in general everyone was very good today! Pleading with the the Lord this morning must have helped.

When Laynie left the room at the beginning of class to get scriptures for some of the boys, I had the thought that I should share with them my struggles with teaching in ASL and English at the same time. I explained that I have to remember the content/flow of the lesson, how to say it in English, and how to say it in ASL. But I can't seem to do more than three things at once. If I add in thinking about dealing with disrespectful behavior, something ends up getting dropped, and that something is ASL. I used the ASL listing on the hand technique to illustrate this. :) They seemed to understand. Then I explained that for Sister Fife, sitting here when I'm just speaking English is like if they were sitting in a class where everyone was using Chinese. It would be pretty boring and frustrating. I asked if they would try to behave appropriately, so that I could speak and sign at the same time, and they agreed to do so. I think they might have felt a bit of empathy for Laynie. Don't get me wrong, they haven't been horrible lately, but two of the boys have been very irreverent in their attitude. Light-minded, you might say. There's a perfect ASL sign for it, which looks like "silly" but with two hands and a specific facial expression--no perfect English translation though. It's been hard to feel the spirit when they behave that way.

Today we were learning about Joseph in Egypt: his experiences in Potiphar's home, the dream interpretations in the prison, the dream interpretations for Pharaoh, and how he became the second most powerful man in Egypt. The lesson ended with the famine, which extended far and wide... even to Canaan. Four or five kids gasped, realizing that Joseph's brothers would have to come to Joseph for food. Bless their hearts, they remembered where the family lived and made the connection!

When we got the "be done now" knock, one of the boys who often causes problems said quite sincerely, "No!! I wish we could stay here forever!" That was the heart-warming part. But then he continued, "I don't wanna go in there." There meaning sharing time.

If I could just figure out how to get them engaged in sharing/singing time... Funny, they can attend to instruction well in class, but they "can't" in sharing time. They sing with me in class, but they don't in singing time. (When I say they, I don't mean all of them.)

Every week in class, we sing the songs with the names of all the books in the Old Testament and New Testament. In February, I started singing these two songs to them every week. I explained that this was how I find verses so quickly in the scriptures--I sing part of the song in my head and know where the book will be that I am looking for. Every week I invited them to sing with me if they would like (while reading the table of contents--they've always had the words in front of them), but they hung me out to dry for at least six or seven weeks.

Then one day, every kid sang along! Well, all except one--but he vocalized. He has a tough time learning. Anyway, they've been joining me, singing these songs enthusiastically for the past month or so. Last week, they began asking me to sing the Book of Mormon song, too. They're disappointed that there is no song for the Pearl of Great Price. And I showed them how to use the text features--the chapters are right at the top of the page, and they're in numerical order! You'd think that would be obvious, but kids do need to be shown these things. When they use the scriptures in sharing time and the teacher starts to give them a page number, my kids will say, "Wait, which chapter?" Yeah, they're awesome.

Except when they're completely disrespectful to all of the teachers in sharing time. Sigh. Those kids who sing the books of the scriptures songs? You would see them picking their cuticles (or other body parts) during singing time. Total ennui. One very bright boy will sometimes sing and other times will look me in the eye and swear that he does not know one word to any of the songs. When I encourage him to try, he grunts loudly to the rhythm of the song. Across the room, his older brother laughs, and so does his older brother's teacher. It's like something you'd see on those Mormon movies, like Singles Ward or The RM. I could write one called Senior Primary.

But let's get back to the point... They were so good during class today. I was able to teach with the spirit, and I felt wonderful about it. They are learning concepts and skills, which makes me very happy. Sure, they're a mess during sharing time, but less of a mess than before. They no longer yell out disrespectful comments or poke each other. I have downgraded their insanity level in sharing time from "nightmare" to "kind of scary dream." Let's hear it for progress.

Conference Blanket

When I watch General Conference, I always work on my conference blanket. It helps me to remain focused on the speakers, instead of letting my mind wander--helps me to be "available to learn," in educator lingo. Keeping my hands busy and my mind half busy does wonders for my attention.

I've been working on this blanket for eight years now, mostly just while listening to General Conference. Since Laynie was taking pictures of her project, I decided to take pictures of mine.

These designs are by a person who is not LDS, so all of the quotes are from the Bible. But I enjoyed the colors and the general feel of the designs, especially how they go together so harmoniously. When I saw the booklet, I knew the designs would be perfect for a blanket.

Modified this angel into a girl--off with her wings and halo.

Removed the halo.

Changed the cross to a steeple. It looks crooked in this picture, but it's really straight. ;)

The one I began yesterday is a girl watering flowers, and it says,

"By works was faith made perfect."

I still have a lot more work to do. I wonder how many more years it will take me... Hm. And what to do with the middle of the blanket? Leave it or find something to put there? Or design something to put there? I wonder if it would look good to fill it with verses of scripture, in backstitch. I'll bet a whole chapter would fit there! Well, I have plenty of time to consider it.

Enjoyable

Conference was great! Elder Holland bore powerful testimony of the Book of Mormon during the Sunday afternoon session. Wow. There were so many talks that I loved. Elders Holland and Oaks, along with President Uchtdorf, are always my favorites, and they did not disappoint. I may have a new favorite in Elder Christofferson, though.

It's not too late to watch General Conference! It's broadcast in a variety of languages, including ASL. Soon it will be available to read online, and I'm looking forward to the podcast, which is called LDS General Conference. Aptly named. I get plenty of time to listen to the podcast, since I do so much driving for work.

If you see just one session, I think I would recommend the Saturday afternoon session.

What Can I Say?

There are so many things I want to blog about. With the perspective of blog=journal, I would love to be able to commit some of these thoughts to virtual paper. But I can't.

I can't talk about work problems. Unprofessional.

I can't talk about church problems. Inappropriate.

I can't talk about health problems. Disgusting.

What am I left with? Nonspecific positive stories about work or church. I guess that's OK, since I like to look on the bright side anyway. I try to be really careful what I say about my kiddos, because obviously I have to keep confidential things, well, confidential. It's just hard not to talk about these kids that I love. (Well, mostly love. A couple, not so much.) I do change the details about them, though. Luckily Laynie is fair game. And I do have my many opinions, which I enjoy expressing. Ha.

Well, here's something work-related that I wanted to mention. I was hanging out with some little friends at lunch, and I was asking a hearing child what her name sign was. The interpreter gave everyone in both inclusion kindergarten classes name signs, so that she would not have to spell all of their names. Unfortunately, I was not there when she gave them their name signs, and frankly, I'm still learning their English names. So I was asking this little girl's name sign and showing her some possibilities... "An M at your chin... An M on your chest (hm, that looks like "mission," nevermind)..." She sat there, thinking. One of my deaf friends got a little impatient with her (duh, how hard is it to remember your own name?) and signed WHICH??! with a facial expression that said, "I am communicating with a mentally challenged person." I love that kid. He is extremely intelligent, and he has a great sense of humor. He ended up helping the little hearing girl learn to fingerread her name. "M-*-*... That's you!"

Oh, I do want to talk about church. Alright, it was my class' turn to teach sharing time, and in our ward, that means teaching both Junior and Senior Primary. No lesson for my class yesterday. We had practiced our lesson and assigned roles last week (Circle, Diamond, and Rectangle were there), and we ran through it again yesterday during Junior Primary's opening exercises. Only Circle and Rectangle showed up. Square's grandma told me that he has been pretty sick, and Diamond's family often has other plans on Sundays. But Circle and Rectangle happily divided Diamond's and Square's duties between them. I was glad that Rectangle was so into teaching, because his behavior has been just horrible lately. Three weeks ago, his mother had to come into class and sharing time, and last week she had to come to sharing time with him again. In 10 years of working in Primary at a variety of levels, I have only called in a parent once before, and that was for an on-the-floor-screaming-and-kicking 5-year-old. Someone had sat in the chair she wanted. I say this to emphasize that Rectangle has been extremely difficult to deal with. And he's nine years old. Come on. Luckily, his mother and I are completely on the same page: she expects him to behave just like everyone else his age. "Well, he was good... good for Rectangle" is not good enough.

Soooo... yesterday. I had given each of them a copy of the lesson plan for sharing time, and they made notes and knew which questions they were supposed to ask, the instructions they were supposed to give, etc. During Junior Primary, Circle and Rectangle taught their hearts out. They did such a great job. They used "motherese" voices and brought their language down to what the little kids (Junior Primary is ages 3-7, but most of these kids were 3-5) could understand. They took to heart what I said about not telling a child that their answer is wrong, just encouraging them to think of more answers. They even tried to implement the classic Primary leader strategy of making off-topic or tangential answers right (e.g. "What has the prophet told us to do?" "Mommy." "The prophet does want you to listen to your mommy and do what she says."). While the little kids were drawing things that prophets and apostles have told us to do to strengthen our families, my two awesome kids went around encouraging them and trying to keep their drawings church-related. Some of our little brothers and sisters wanted to draw their favorite cartoon characters. Later, Rectangle sweetly encouraged them to use their drawings during Conference and to choose one thing to work on to help their family. Circle bore a strong testimony (completely uncoached) of the living prophet. All in all, it was a cohesive lesson, with great teamwork between the three of us. As we got going, the Primary president's jaw was on the floor. I had told her that I always have my class teach with me when it's my turn to do sharing time, but she thought I would just give the kids a couple of token duties. Nope. Nine year olds can handle more than we sometimes think. By the way, Circle is the Primary president's daughter.

Funny, during Senior Primary, things were different. The energy level was not there. I think it is harder to teach your peers.. and some of those kids are older than mine, which might have made them nervous. I had to provide more support for that lesson. But I know that they did their best, and I am so proud of them. I wonder if I should give Rectangle a role in teaching the lesson in class every week. But I don't know that it would work every week. Maybe I should have a pow-wow with his mom on that. Ohhhh... I could have a lesson partner every week. I know that Circle would love to help, the boys would enjoy having a leadership role (because let's be honest, the reason Rectangle was so good during sharing time yesterday was because he got to tell other people what to do rather than the other way around: during singing time, he immediately reverted to his usual, noncompliant self), and Diamond is always up for anything. I don't know, I'll have to think it through.

Sorry this is so stream of consciousness.

Oh, I enjoyed the Relief Society Conference. Barbara Thompson is such a good speaker. Very natural delivery. That makes it easy to learn from her. And I like Sister Beck tons. Now I feel mildly guilty for not loving Sister Allred more. I find it difficult to concentrate on what she's saying, because I'm noticing how she devoices voiced consonants, releases stops in final position, etc (she's from Columbia, I think). I also go, gee, she used to put a /g/ before her /w/, and now she very effortfully puts an /h/ in front of it, Utah style (Hwhy do they do that?). Someone has been coaching her. Yes, unfortunately, my nerdiness takes over. But even Laynie noticed Sister Allred's speech. Laynie asked, "Is she saying her stop sounds with lots of air?" She was noticing those released final stops. Laynie loves to analyze what she hears, trying to figure out why some people sound differently than others. My nerdiness has rubbed off on her.

Speaking of Laynie, she still can't hear a darn thing. But then she hears the bed creaking in the apartment above us. Maybe she's not attending to what she hears. Yesterday, I was going to put on some music while we cleaned up the kitchen (we made Lion House rolls). I started up a Sunday playlist, and Laynie was asking me to turn it up, because she could barely hear it. I think the neighbors could hear it. So I told her that she would be able to hear it better if she turned off the dishwasher (our dishwasher is loud), and she said that she couldn't even hear the dishwasher. But she tried turning it off anyway, and she immediately went, whoa, the music is much louder now. I guess it's good that she's doing the "hearing" thing of filtering out unimportant stimuli, but maybe she's also filtering out important stimuli. I don't know. She does better in auditory training when I speak very close to her. Wish she had an FM. But I go back and forth on using an FM system during therapy. On the one hand, it's not representative of real-world contexts. The real world has background noise. You can't put an FM transmitter on every person that wants to speak to you. On the other hand, structured training using an FM system could help her learn what words sound like, and then her brain would be better able to "fill in the gaps" when background noise interferes with the signal. Amplification has been shown to increase progress with phonological therapy with hearing children (who have phonological speech disorders), and aural habilitation bears a striking resemblance to phonological therapy. The whole auditory discrimination of minimal pairs training thing. But an FM system is an awfully large financial investment to make when I'm not sure it would help. Hmmm... I do have a materials budget from my agency, which I could put toward an FM system (I would use it with other clients in the future, I'm sure), but that would still leave a sizable cost to cover. It's something to consider, anyway.

I was just going to stop, but I realized I have a little follow-up to my recent diatribe against Cochlear. I saw the Nucleus 5 quoted at 4 mm thick, with a weight of 10.9 grams. Med-El's Opus 2 is 3.7 mm thick and weighs 10.1 grams. This is with the lightest battery option for each. Cochlear continues to claim that the Nucleus 5 is the "smallest sound processor." Eh? Not that the Nucleus 5 is huge, like the Freedom was, but you can't say that it's the smallest when it's simply not.

OK, now I'm done.

Love Them

Laynie and I teach the 9- to 10-year-old class at church, and I just have to say how much I love those children. One of the children who has had trouble being appropriate has really turned a corner over the last two weeks, becoming less concerned with being cool and making people laugh and more concerned with learning the gospel. He is still a little goofball with tons of personality, who has had a tough life (a few weeks ago he was telling me how his mom's boyfriend was in the hospital with sequelae of alcoholism), but I am catching glimpses of the real him now, as he sincerely considers stories, concepts, and questions. Every now and then he whips out a piece of gospel knowledge that makes my head spin. THIS child knows that Jonah was annoyed when the people at Ninevah repented and the Lord spared them?? How curious. The Primary president didn't even know that. I will call this boy Square.

The other children include Circle, a smart girl who is hungry for knowledge and has excellent literacy skills but is shy about participating; Diamond, a girl whose personality is the opposite of Circle's--Diamond is blissfully unselfconscious and shares any thought that crosses her mind; Rectangle, a boy who struggles with impulse control and seems torn between being good and being cool (he tries to impress Square and the kids in the 10- to 12-year-old class by calling out disrespectful comments and giving silly answers to questions); and Dodecahedron, a sweet boy with moderate autism. Unfortunately his family does not make it to church often, but I have learned that he hates touching grass, he is highly concerned with time and schedules, his scalp itches all the time, and he knows everything there is to know about dinosaurs. Every now and then his eyes make fleeting contact with mine, and it is startling. It's the best.

I love these kids!

Today's lesson was on Zion's Camp. Square and Circle were the only children there today, and they enjoyed doing a role play of the Zion's Camp story. Then we talked about sea glass. I'm sure you're going, oh yeah, sea glass, that's an obvious metaphor. Not so much for 9- and 10-year-olds. They had never heard of sea glass before, although Square wants to buy some on eBay now. We talked about two pictures I had brought: one of sharp pieces of a broken bottle on sand and one of smooth sea glass. We discussed how that happens, and I asked why they thought I was talking about that, how it applied to today's lesson. Square made the connection! Yay! He was so excited when he realized that we are like the glass. But he couldn't think what the waves might represent. I asked Circle to look at the vocabulary words on the board (we always do a short "signing time" at the beginning of the lesson to preteach the vocabulary), and she correctly selected trials. Yay! At the end of the lesson, they got off on a tangent, asking for details about where we'll be and what we'll be doing after we die, about our heavenly parents, pre-earth life, and on and on. It was such a stimulating discussion, and they were both so earnestly seeking knowledge, that I let it go for a while before bringing them back to the lesson topic. I spend a lot of time communicating (or trying to communicate) with special needs preschoolers, so it's a treat for me to talk with typical fourth and fifth graders. They have wonderful insights and ask great questions.

The sweetest thing happened as I began the Zion's Camp story for the role play. I noticed Circle babbling with her hands, trying to copy the signs she recognized (I was signing and talking at the same time). Unfortunately she stopped when she realized that I had noticed her. But seriously... CUTE. Love her. Actually, that's what I wanted to blog about in the first place, but I got loquacious.

Church

Our sacrament meeting was sooooo good today! A nervous youth speaker, who was dutifully praised by all who came after her, was followed by a High Council speaker, Brother Steven Towne. He gave an excellent talk about temple and missionary work. Our stake's main focus this year is on missionary work, so every High Council speaker's talk is tied to that topic. Then Summer Hill, our former Gospel Doctrine teacher sang a song that I am familiar with but cannot think of what it is called. She did a great job, and even Laynie was touched. If you know the song, please tell me the title! I'll probably try to Google the lyrics. Something about seeing him face to face... "if the world could [?] devotion..." Lots of "if..." Darn.

After Sister Hill, the bishop asked Brother Edwin Mulitalo, who was a member of the ward for eight years while he played for the Ravens but now lives in Michigan and plays for the Lions, to share his testimony. He was in town for yesterday's Faith and Football event. He briefly shared his testimony, because it was 10:00 when he stood up, and that meeting is supposed to end at 10:05. He told the story of when he proposed to his wife, traditional Samoan style, with a pile of hams, turkeys, and lava lavas in the O'Brien family living room in Atlanta, GA, to impress the family as he detailed his bloodline and qualifications as a husband. His pride in his Samoan heritage and culture was likened to his pride in his heavenly heritage and culture. I wonder if he has a book or video out. I would love to hear more from him.

Finally, one of the counselors in the Baltimore mission presidency, President McGinn, spoke. His talk was also brief, and I honestly don't remember a great deal of it. It was on missionary work, and he tried to impress upon us the importance of member missionary work, because 60% of the mission's baptisms every year for the past five years have been from member missionary work. I can't remember anything else he said. I did interpret that talk as best I could, but the noisy children around us were quite distracting. That makes it harder for me to retain what I hear, I guess. Or maybe I was still thinking about Brother Mulitalo's talk. Anyway, our sacrament meeting was great.

General Conference

I really enjoyed General Conference this weekend! I always enjoy Conference, and I thought this one was particularly good. What can I say about it? I felt peace and love, listening to these servants of God. I loved the talks of Elders Holland, Oaks, Scott, and Hales... well, so many were good.

Watch it online, get the podcast, or read it here.

I recommend the Sunday morning session.

Death

I know a wonderful child, whom I will call Blue. Blue is a worrier, who really struggles with anxiety. This child has had a rough life, so it's understandable.

Blue's grandpa died earlier this week. This child tends to get a lot of worries out during speech... I might be the only adult that this child is with privately, besides family. I like to think that I'm nonthreatening enough to make the child feel comfortable enough to express feelings. Blue lives with the grandparents, so Grandpa's lingering illness and death have been tough.

Blue told me that Grandpa died in his sleep and that he would be coming back in a box. He would wake up in the box. Blue's dog died before, but Grandpa and the dog will not be together, because Grandpa is in the box.

Grandpa can see Blue, but Blue cannot find Grandpa.

It is apparent that Grandma tried her best to explain death and what happened to grandpa, but it only made Blue more anxious. Now the child is scared to go to sleep. And to eat ice cream. Grandpa loved to eat ice cream, and now he is dead. The causal link is obvious.

Blue will NEVER die. Never.

I had to bite my tongue to keep from explaining that Blue will see Grandpa again. It really stinks that so many people do not know where they will go after death, and that families can be together forever. It's not fair that a child has to suffer with these horrible thoughts, that I cannot explain the truths that might help her feel better about the situation. I can listen, which is still valuable, I know.

Well, I did make it clear that ice cream is not lethal and that Grandpa will NOT wake up in the box.

Although I was sad when my grandmother died last month, and I still am sad about it, I was also happy for her. She's not in pain, and she can learn about the gospel now. And I know I will see her again.

I don't want to die, because I need more opportunities to improve before I meet God again, but I'm not scared to die.

April 4, 2009

Just as a postscript...

I asked a counselor to speak with Blue, and the counselor reported that this happened. The finality of death was emphasized. Not what I meant at all! Sigh. Oh, well.