Welcome, Autumn

*Note: I wrote this article in October 2011, shortly after our sweet Autumn Joy was born. Even though that memorable day was five years ago, I still reflect on the power and principles of the glorious Autumn harvest.

Last month we celebrated Autumn with a joyful harvest.  Among other things we harvested our garden…a bit unexpectedly.  The overnight frost forced us to gather tomatoes, peppers, squash, melons, potatoes, and onions into our dining room.  Our kitchen table suddenly became a cornucopia, spilling over onto the floor.  Although we were sorry for the end of the season, we were filled with joy at seeing what our labors had produced.  The spring and summer months of planting, weeding and watering were suddenly worth it.

A Purposeful Pilgrimage

I’ve heard of pilgrimages before: travel to an historic place to pay homage to one’s beginnings.  There are pilgrimages to the Holy Land, pilgrimages to Mecca, pilgrimages to a cemetery to see the gravesite of a loved one. Anyone who believes deeply in something has an innate desire to visit his foundations—the place where his beliefs and character and very purpose for being were established.

This summer our family took a patriotic pioneer pilgrimage. And our travels convinced me that pilgrimages are a vital and heart-changing piece of life.

Our first stop was near Kansas City, Missouri. We toured the Liberty Jail where Joseph Smith was held captive during the long, cold winter of 1839. The jail is small and crude, but the crowd that came to view the underground cell was large—a kaleidoscope of families from around the country. We sat together in silence while the narration told of damp, cold, moldy food and God-fearing saints. The experience made us better.

SCHOOL DAYS - A Mother's Soliloquy

I’m sending eight children to school this year – from high school senior on down through pre-kindergartener.   Shouldn’t I be in the Guinness Book of World Records or something?  After all, managing eight students is a feat worth recording.  That is, if I survive.  Let me replay how our school preparation has gone. 

“Everyone wash out your lunchboxes,” I call during one of our final summer afternoons.  Soon, a display of boxes and bags are lined up on the counter, rinsed and still dripping a bit.  It’s exhausting just to consider the food prep each school morning will require, even though many of my little pupils pack their own meal.

“School clothes day,” I call on a different morning.  Then, one by one, I go through each child’s drawer with him or her.  “School shirt, play shirt, dirty shirt that it’s time to dispose of, shirt you don’t wear so we’re donating to charity, shirt that doesn’t fit you any more (put it in your brother’s drawer)…”  The school clothes project takes all day.