Our Little Lucy, Family Series Part 4

I have been wanting to finish up this family series for quite some time. I have written about Miles, Emily, and Matt already. It feels a little unnecessary to write about Lucy since so many of my posts are inspired by her little quips but I can't leave this series undone, right?

Lucy's name means light. It fits her perfectly. That's what she is and has always been to our family from day one. She loves to make us laugh and she's always been so good at it. She's confident and loves people. In fact earlier today while bowling with some friends, she wandered off a bit (yes, I feel like a terrible mom for not even noticing this. I'm sure I single-handedly keep many angels busy). My friend Sarah pointed out to me that Lucy was having quite an entertaining conversation AT THE OTHER END of the bowling alley. I looked down to see her sitting at a table between two soldiers and she had them both laughing.

Lucy has always been one to find a peaceable...nay, exciting solution to a problem. If we tell her she can't have another drink of water before bed she has the ingenious idea that she'll drink more in the morning. Her idea this week is that we can all learn sign language so we will never again talk with our mouth full.

Brilliant.

I love Lucy's creativity. She has always loved to color. Forget the coloring books! This girl would much rather have blank paper and a pen. She can easily go through a ream of paper in a month--and has several times. Soon after learning to write her name she began adding little swirls to dress up her letters. Now each signing is unique to the picture. For instance, yesterday she colored a picture at the library (which is on display with two others of hers) and each letter of her name is an open book. Last night in her underwater masterpiece each letter was a mermaid. A polar bear picture includes icicle letters with an ice skater on the letter "U". Her drawings are always so expressive and most of the time...ahem...anatomically correct. For instance, here is one she drew at age three of me pregnant with her. Notice my eyes. Yeah, that's about right...

Here is a more recent masterpiece. The disco ball is actually a golf ball post-it note. Notice the phonograph in the corner. Apparently Lucy hasn't been to a rollerskating rink in about 80 years.


Lucy is a pro at making my day. A few months ago she had a friend over and the friend said, "Let's pretend we are princesses" to which Lucy replied, "No, let's be moms. Moms are better. Pretend I'm a beautiful mom and my name is Heather". Yeah, she can have just about anything she wants.

Lucy, I love you. Your infectious smile and optimistic attitude have lightened the load for all of us. I'm so glad you are part of our family.

Poor Poor Lucy

After Lucy got home from preschool today, I asked her if she had fun.

"No. I didn't. We played this really dumb game called 'Leprechaun, Leprechaun, where is your coin?'" she said in a very sad and whiny voice. "You got the coin if you were quiet. Everyone got to play but me!"

Heartbreaking, huh?

The biggest surprise is that her preschool teacher was the first one to call her a Chatty Cathy.

Emotions...

Today I have felt gratitude, peace, confusion, anger, fatigue, sorrow, shame, more gratitude, impatience, awe, love, despair, humility, isolation, patience, and yet more gratitude. Among this I've felt an increased awareness of the individual love and concern my Savior has for me.

Last night I got back from Time Out for Women in Seattle. I just went to Portland for this in October so I didn't plan to go again so soon but gratefully I have a husband who encourages me to do things to take care of myself. Yes, it was even his idea.

It's interesting how many things can line up so perfectly to communicate a message to us. Between the things I heard at the seminar to life experiences of my own and/or those of dear friends, I can't help but see the Lord's hand in my life. How can you not feel humbled and grateful for that?

Profound Gratitude

I've been hesitant to blog about this because of the personal nature of it. I hold my testimony of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ close to my heart but the feelings that the following experience has provoked have monopolized my thoughts so much that I couldn't keep them in any longer.


For my friends that are not members of the LDS faith, let me preface this by saying we esteem Joseph Smith as the first prophet of this dispensation. As a 14 year old boy Joseph went to the Lord for answers which resulted in the restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ that was on the earth in times of old. The history of the Church is filled with stories of persecution to those who were seeking religious liberties that our country was founded upon. My family history includes such stories which leads to my experience this past weekend.


It was my turn to teach in Relief Society yesterday. I loved reading the lesson "Living With Others in Peace and Harmony". (In case you were wondering, I just figured out how to link things to a post and I'm taking full advantage of it.) There is a family history story of Matt's that related to the lesson. I couldn't remember the specifics so I thought I'd spend just a couple of minutes before crawling into bed to see if I stumbled upon them. Instead I ended up sitting in the back of my closet (where we have a book shelf filled with binders--I don't normally sit in the back of my closet) crying until 2:00 in the morning.


I came upon a story that my mom passed on to me not long ago that I had not yet taken the time to read. It is written by the hand of Eunice Billings, my Great Great Great Grandmother. I knew her parents Titus Billings and Diantha Morley had associated with Joseph Smith and his family but I didn't realize how much. As I read about their experiences Saturday night I felt closer and closer to them and my gratitude for the sacrifices made by the early Saints intensified. I finally lost my composure upon reading the following quote written by 14 year old Eunice...


"I remember hearing the Prophet the last time he spoke in Nauvoo. It was in the day at the Bowery, which was filled with a goodly number of the saints. He said, 'I go like a lamb to the slaughter, ' referring to the great shadow which seemed even then to hover over his life and to foreshadow his impending doom.


"On the last day which he spent in Nauvoo, he passed our house with his brother, Hyrum, both riding. My mother and I were standing in the dooryard, and as he passed, he bowed with uplifted hat to my mother. Hyrum seemed like one in a dream, sad and despondent, taking no notice of anyone. They were on their way to the Carthage jail, and it was the last time I saw the Prophet alive. Shortly after this, my father came home and told my mother that the Prophet and his brother had been murdered, whereupon my mother exclaimed, 'How can it be possible? Will the Lord allow anything like that?' And immediately she sank back in her chair and fainted. When she came to herself, my father lamented the fact with her, but cited the case that other Prophets in the world's history had been killed. The bodies were brought into Nauvoo the morning after the murder and placed in the Nauvoo Mansion to be viewed by hundreds of people. The Latter-day Saints in the city were full of melancholy, and sadness prevailed over the place. Tears were shed on every hand and deep mourning shrouded the city.


"Lucy Mack Smith, Emma Hale Smith, my mother, and I together viewed the bodies, and I shall never forget the impression made upon me when the Prophet's mother saw the bodies of her dead sons. Falling on her knees and clasping her hands she cried out, 'O God, why were my noble sons permitted to be martyred?' Then controlling herself with a mighty effort, she said, 'Thy will, not mine, O Lord, be done.' "


I cannot imagine as a mother what it would be like to have your children murdered. For Lucy to display that kind of faith amidst the pain of such an experience fills me with profound gratitude. I pray that we can--as the previously mentioned Relief Society lesson states--live peaceably with those around us, filled with the respect and love that Joseph had for all no matter their beliefs. What a blessing it is to have the Gospel of Jesus Christ on the earth today and to have a living prophet, now Thomas S. Monson to guide us through an ever worsening battle with the adversary. What peace it brings to know that Jesus Christ is the present and active leader of this, His Church and that through His sacrifice and our willingness to obey His commandments, we can live with Him again someday.

Lucy's Question of the Day

Lucy: "Mom, when are we going to win the human race?"