My Search for Wisdom

 Seeking Wisdom

     Have you ever heard that story in the bible where King Soloman is going to cut the baby in half? This is just because two women claim the baby is theirs... why not give each one half? This terrorized me as a young girl going to the First Baptist Church in Pomona, CA. But when the true mother, not wanting her child dead, gave the child up, I sighed in relief. That was when I realized how wise Soloman was.
     I wanted to be wise like Soloman. Of course at eight years old I didn't know about James 1:5 "If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God," because I had never read the New Testament or any scriptures for that matter. I wanted my own bible and when attending that Baptist church (because their bus came to pick up me and my friends in the neighborhood), the teacher told me she'd give me one if I was baptized. My parents were divorced and my mother, who never attended any church,  said, "No, you can't be baptized. Wait until you are old enough to understand what you are doing." She had wisdom. She said if all I wanted was my own bible, she'd buy one for me. However, she never bought one for me. My grandmother, Anne May Gough Eckel Winebrenner died when I was about 17, I inherited hers. Did I read it? I read a few verses she'd underlined and I couldn't understand what it said so I never picked it up to read again. I just cherished the book because it was hers.
     When I heard the Joseph Smith story at age 21 during my college years, that quote from James caught my attention. I'd wanted to be wise. I'd also determined that I wanted to belong to the same church as my husband, and Sam Inman was a Morman. The missionaries wisely made me read in the Book of Mormon and pray about it. As I read, I felt that it was true, no matter how weird my intellectual mind said the First Vision Story was. I was taking the lessons during college mid term finals and only a couple weeks before getting married over the Thanksgiving weekend. I wanted to postpone the actual baptism day until I got back from my short honeymoon trip. They were inspired to say the one thing that changed my mind. "What if you were in an accident and died knowing the Church was true and hadn't been baptized?" I'd known a friend in Pasadena that had been in an accident on her honeymoon trip and had died. Wow, saying this was certainly not what a missionary should say, yet it was the exact thing that I needed to hear.  I was baptized the Saturday before my wedding and confirmed a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and received the gift of the Holy Ghost.
    Parley Pratt is quoted by Orson Pratt as saying, "The gift of the Holy Ghost quickens all the intellectual facilities, increases, enlarges, expands and purifies all the natural passions and affections, and adopts them by the gift of wisdom, to all their lawful use." Orson Pratt goes on to say that in proportion to a person yielding to its influence, it will impart some gift intended to benefit himself and others. These spiritual gifts are distributed among members of the church according to their faithfulness, natural abilities and callings, that everyone might be uplifted, edified, and instructed as well as perfected and saved.
     In Proverbs 20:11 it says, "Even a child is known by his doings, whether his work be pure, and whether it be right." Nobody ever told me that. But somehow I wanted to be a good girl and do what was right. I wanted to be like Solomon who said in Proverbs 1:2, " To know wisdom and instruction; to perceive the words of understanding." A wise man listens, hears and will increase in learning. The foolish man interupts with his own prideful comments and exposes his foolishness to all around him. Even a fool is thought wise if he keeps his mouth shut. Well, it has taken me a lifetime of mistakes, failures and opening my mouth, interrupting people who could have taught me so much if only I would have stopped to shut my mouth and really listen.
     After receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost I began to understand the teachings and instructions given to me. It took time (yes, over 30 years) to develop a habit of reading the scriptures and pondering them.
     The saddest thing I've learned about wisdom is that in general people don't want to take your wise words to heart and learn from them. Gaining wisdom is an individual journey. You can't MAKE someone wise. Wisdom truly is a gift of God and it can't be had unless it is desired and sought after. Even then you must live the commandments of God, and exercise faith to receive this gift. Faithfulness is a drop by drop filling your lamp with oil so that you can give service to others; be a light unto the world and enter into the bridegroom's chambers. I really want to be one of the five wise virgins, not one of the foolish ones.

     Finally after 75 years, perhaps my lamp has such sufficient oil. I wonder if my parents had told me about religious things and had a choice to chose right, would I have been a foolish kid or struck out as an independent person seeking a different path than they had chosen. My dad gave me book once that he said would improve my relations with others... a psychology book. Did I read it? Did I value it? NO, I never read it. See why I ponder this wisdom idea. I suspect that if they had tried to tell me about religious matters while not living those principles, I'd have rejected religion. My path had to be walked in my own way. I so admire young people who are raised in righteous homes and choose the right. I've seen so many valient youth in our Church making wise decisions, serving missions, enduring trials well, that it gives me hope. There often is one or two children in a righteous family that seem to rebel, or are just plain lazy and fall away from activity to the deep sorrow of their parents who love them. They are foolish. Later in life some return to activity and become valient wishing that they'd never strayed. Each person's path to God is different. God knows us individually and knows who we really are and desires for us to make right wise decisions. This is why we had to come to earth to see if we would seek Him out and choose the right.
     We choose our own consequences by the decisions we make according to eternal laws put in place before the earth was ever created. Blessings can flow upon us or condemn us or a nation, based on good or unwise choices. What parent would want to give their child a stone when he asks for bread? God our father, wants to bless us. Why not begin as a child and receive knowledge and understanding and be the very best person you are capable of being early in life.
     In my opinion, based on experience, I would chose to be baptised into the only true church that has Jesus Christ as its head at the earliest age possible, in order to receive that wonderful gift of the Holy Ghost so as to benefit from other spiritual gifts enabling a person to live a safer, richer, joyful life in this world of terror, sin, sorrow, uncertainty and death.
     As Solomon admonishes in Proverbs, "My son, hear the instruction of thy father, and forsake not the law of thy mother." Don't be lead astray. "The fear (respect) of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge; but fools despise wisdom and instruction."
     "O be not a fool: seek wisdom."

2019 New Year, New Beginnings

Blogging Since 2010

     This BEE has not been so very busy this past year due to age, yup, I'm gonna be 75 this year. So instead of writing blogs to fill my own "personal history blank spots," I used Amy Johnson's #52Ancestors in 52 weeks weekly prompts to develop a habit of writing a page or two every week about a story or remembrance about someone in my family history and decided to relate it to our time living in Mexico between 1996-2001. 

     Having developed that habit I made it through October. My residential circumstances changed and  I had to move from a three bedroom place to a tiny 520 sq. ft apartment. What did I have to do? begin sorting and throwing away boxes and boxes of stuff. The result was no blogging, writing stories, etc. However, I have given away most of my dad's history to my half sister, Christalee, mailed a lot of my husband's history and files to his oldest son, Scott. And I've set aside all of my stepfather's history and photos to be given to his sister's son. 

     I have entered data into Ancestry and FamilySearch, kept documents and photos then threw away 40 years worth of notes, family group sheets, etc. I still have 15 banker size boxes to go through! they form a "wall" between my dining area and living room. No joking I only have one chair in the living room and

a four drawer file cabinet with saved research, table with printer, where I can sew, make crafts, scan photos and sell a few remaining family artifacts Online in the dining area. 

   

   I set goals for next year and have been attending the Tucson Temple to participate in Sealings every other Tuesday. Physically, it is the most difficult thing to do. But somehow, God's tender mercies have allowed me to DO IT. My new home is only minutes away from the temple and I can use my walker. One time we had three women with walkers in that sealing room. I've seen such faithful men (mostly temple ordinance workers) there too, on a regular basis. The room is always filled with light and delight. And JOY. By the way my theme, selected from my Patriarchal Blessing for 2019 is: "...And Great Shall Be Your Joy!"

A Realization Hit Me!

     Who is going to write my personal history, if I don't? No one. To what avail are all those journals that I've kept over the years, because I don't think anyone is going to read them. To this end, I've set a goal and have a list of topics about stories that only I can tell. So my descendants (I have 3 grandchildren currently ages 11, 8, and 5) will only have to read those stories and not wade through 30+ journals.

I've developed a list of 29 prompts of my own.

     I kept adding to this list and may add one about social media and blogging!

The most recent entries on this blog were to help fill in our family's experiences while living in Mexico. It really became a stretch for me (it seemed so random, artificial) to do this so I stopped.  No I didn't stop writing once a week from Amy's prompts, just stopped trying to relate it to Mexico. But I never posted them on my blog. Quite frankly, I questioned whether this blog witing thing was for me. 

     When I started in 2010 I had a purpose: To help LDS members get the most out of their Patriarchal Blessings. I've watched James Tanner's blogs and had to stop following some of them because he wrote so many that my inbox was full of them every day. It seems that he auto posts 2 am daily. How does he do it? Maybe he thinks what he has to say is SO important and well written that everyone will want to read them and indeed he has many followers. I know that he gets discouraged about whether anyone is following his advice, but I did and shared with my co-workers at our local family history center his ideas, etc. for years. When one of them cites me saying, "Bev said..." more than likely it was something that I became aware of in one of James' posts. 

Blogging IS for me, the Goal is to be Consistent

     This morning I did what I've done at the first of each year, finished one journal and began another. Took a picture of adding it to my shelf of journals.

Next since during December I set my 2019 goals using my Patriarchal Blessing to give me insight, personal revelation, and a theme for inspiring a great new year, I thought I'd best see what had happened during the year on BEEintheDesert in 2018 if anything. The statistics page came up and yesterday alone, 14 people had visiting one of my pages! It was about Organizing your Patriarchal Blessing most links were from Pinterest.

     Then I searched through these that mention of this type of study about Patriarchal Blessings and discovered they were young bloggers who are giving suggestions to teens working on their Personal Progress books. (all about goal setting, by the way) 

     And I realized something one of them said back in 2016, indicated she'd seen an idea, maybe mine, about organizing your blessing into a scripture format. 

Many people might be reading what I'm writing here but simply lurk in the background as I do on social media. I'm aware of what is going on in people's lives but I don't always "like" or "comment" on their posts. 

Being an Influence for Good

     One of the phrases in my blessing says that I'll be an influence for good in the world and amongst my friends and fellow associates. Figuring the only way that might happen was if I learned the technology and blogged to a wider audience. God may use my posts to lead young people to an idea that will benefit their lives. 

     If you read my statement about being a BEE on my About Me in the right hand column here, that's what is really happening now.

Rereading Your Own Posts is Benefitial

     Next, as I was rereading my own posts from 2011 and found these statistics about missionary and temple work:

 What is our Responsibility?

     MY SUGGESTION: There are about 6,881,113,487 people alive in the world November 2010 and only 310,691,528 live in the United States. They estimate 106 billion people have been born on the earth, making the population currently alive roughly 6.5% of all people who have ever lived. The United States only has 4% of the world’s population alive today. The membership of the church is 14 million. Over a million LDS missionaries have served in the world, and more members live outside of the United States than in.  They speak 22 different languages. These amazing numbers mean that every member must find at least 491 living people to whom the gospel can be preached if we are to fulfill the Lord’s command to take the gospel to every nation, kindred and tongue and find 7,571 who have died who need to receive the saving ordinances.

     Did you see that estimate? 106 billion people have lived on the earth. Every one of these spirit children of our Heavenly father are beloved by Him and His son Jesus Christ. WE PROMISED THAT WE WOULD FIND THEIR RECORDS AND PERFORM THE ORDINANCES IN THE TEMPLES ON EARTH FOR EACH AND EVERY ONE OF THEM!!!

Marvelous Technology Makes Temple Work Possible

     With our current technology, we can actually see the possibility of doing this great and marvelous work that will bless ALL the NATIONS of the EARTH (D & C 128:24)  But we are not alone. God will help us and those Priesthood holders on the other side of the veil will also help. Guess we’d better get to work.

President Nelson has asked us to prioritize our lives, research our own ancestors and take them to the temple. 

It was Never About Numbers

I checked my current statistics on FamilySearch: 

All Reserved: 992

Not Printed: 337

Printed: 393

Shared with Temple: 257

     These statistics are current but do not reflect how many names I've submitted to the temple since, let's say, 2010. My friend Cecelia, told me once around 2010 that she'd submitted over 6,000 names. I felt that I'd fallen behind, and did the above research and discovered that a goal of 7,571 names would be doable. 

     This began my very determined and serious research process and submitting names for temple ordinances. Soon it became possible for me to have a free Ancestry Account, although my cousin June Wallace Atkinson, allowed me to tie into her tree and do research there quite a few years earlier. (together we traveled to Maryland and Tennessee to find illusive common ancestors over the past six years.) Her tree on Ancestry includes 52, 334 names. 

     It is not possible for me to know how many of those are my entries, but the entries on my own tree of ancestors is now 8,160 individuals. 

And alas, it is not part of the record keeping process on these sites to determine how many names that I have submitted over the years. 

     It never was about numbers, but about my responsibility to ensure that my ancestors had that opportunity to accept the gospel that they didn't have in their mortal life. 

In Summary...

Blogging pays off, but it's often behind the scenes. People of all ages who read them benefit, including us senior citizens. It's a permanent record of progress, insights and advice to others so that they can benefit for your life's stories, mistakes, and successes. A blogger has the responsibility to be honest with themselves and have integrity in order for readers to benefit including the author.

Patriarchal Blessings are indeed personal scripture. They are God's way of giving personal direction and inspiration to us. They don't get boring over the years, because like the scriptures, they open up new insights and ideas with every additional reading.

Pinterest in the last year has been active getting people to return to and use their site from my personal perspective. I was not impressed, but now I see benefits.

Journals are important especially for older people who can not remember when something happened or what someone said. Besides our Prophets and God have asked us to do this.

Personal Histories are also important. Probably more so for men who might one day become leaders in His Kingdom, (How else will biographer's know what to say?) But as is currently becoming apparent in the publication of the Joseph Smith Papers that his mother's writings, and quotes from other men and women verify and fill in wonderful details about the restoration of the gospel and a prophet's calling, personality and integrity.

FamilySearch although once difficult to use is now a treasure trove of sources, stories and photos and THE vehicle or "a book containing the records of our dead, which shall be worth of all acceptance," that when it is finished will be presented to the Lord in his holy temple when He returns.

Ancestry for members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, free and connects with FamilySearch so we can compare sources, etc. for a more complete record. It's search engine's alogrithms find additional sources in our search for ancestors.

Temple Submissions are the reason we do what we do. More women than men attend to these special duties because although I have 982 reserved names and can do sealing for my own female ancestors, there are more that 600 men who have not had their endowments performed. It takes 4 years if shared with temple and lots of begging just to get one male name endowed in four months from  my local priesthood.

Now we will see what 2019 brings....

Week 12 #52Ancestors Misfortune

Valley of the Shadow of Death

     Our family had been in Guadalajara only a few months and my mother became ill. She went into the hospital with pneumonia. Apparently she had been given many different prescriptions in California by her doctor (he spoke with thick German accent which she couldn’t understand) so that by the time her condition worsened after the stress of moving to another country, they couldn’t find a medicine that would cure her easily.

     They persisted and indeed she recovered from it, came home and took a turn for the worst. In hindsight, she had Alzheimer’s disease, and this final illness kicked it up a notch. She had to be put onto oxygen, lost the strength in her legs and needed help getting to the bathroom. Even putting up her Christmas tree and favorite orange and purple ornaments on it didn’t raise her spirits. The ladies from church came to visit several times a week, but all she could say was that she didn’t want them there. Her personality changed from a gregarious Relief Society Secretary to an angry, contentious old woman.  

     I had to scold her occasionally when she spoke roughly to Brianna, whom she loved. The medical system in Guadalajara was fantastic however. Dr. Menesis, a member of our ward, came to the house frequently. Imagine, house visits from a world famous doctor (He specialized in Bach Flores and had an office in Switzerland) and oxygen and supplies delivered to the home. Her mind became confused and she began repeating words over and over again. I asked her if she could stop doing that and she said no. Within three days of this symptom, she died on 15 Dec 1995. She was never convinced that she didn’t have pneumonia anymore, but she died from something else entirely.

Bob’s Journey in the 

Valley of the Shadow of Death

     The reason I’ve told the story about my mother’s death in Guadalajara is because when the #52Ancestors prompt was Misfortune, I couldn’t think of anything. I’d always thought of myself as Fortunate. However, after thinking about it I wrote quite a long story about my husband’s death on 9 May 2012 at the age of 82. It’s been almost six years ago.

     If you go back through my blog you will see that I stopped writing soon after this date and had good intentions but never really became consistent again until now. Thanks Amy Johnson Crow.

     At Bob’s death I kept a detailed journal so that I could remember to thank all of the people who came to comfort us during his last days. Indeed I thought that I would blog about my journey through the valley of the shadow of death. But, I wrote, “I thought I’d be able to write about grief and how I handle my beloved’s death, but quite frankly it’s just so subtle and too personal.” I did write daily in my journal and have two full notebooks for 2012. However, I just couldn’t keep up this blog.

     In rereading these journal pages, I found a wonderful story of funny moments, tender caring moments, weird bizarre moments, and surprising sacred moments that led to a revelation or two when Bob died.

     Just as friends and family gave comfort, advice and service, shared great food, so did the new friends we’d made in Guadalajara when my mom became bedridden. Our American Legion friends and ward member friends came to serve. At least in Guadalajara it is a law that the body cannot be moved for 24 hours. This gave time for the Relief Society Presidency to clean and dress my mother in her white temple clothing and for us to cuddle and cry and say our goodbyes.

     So when Bob died in Arizona, Brianna and I took an hour or so to say our goodbyes before we called the people at the hospice company we used and they sent a nurse over to listen to his heart for a minute and declare him dead at 2:15 am, even though he actually died at 12:34am. Brianna was pregnant at this time and she needed to use the bathroom. Bob’s breathing had gotten more shallow and longer between little pauses and deep breaths, so when she left the room, I said to him, “Bob, Don’t die before she gets back!” And he didn’t. Two minutes after she returned, and was sitting at his head, and I at his feet, he took his last breath.

     Brianna stood up and looked at me and said, “I thought I’d be crying, but I’m happy instead.” We both felt lifted up. The Holy Ghost, the comforter was at work in our lives. Yes as the months went on, I noticed that the handwriting in my journal began very scratchy, confused and rambling, but finally became more coherent and I began setting short term goals again. I am so grateful for the gospel of Jesus Christ and the eternal perspective it provides. I know where our spirits came from, and where it goes after we die. And one day, we will all rise again and unite with our bodies because of Jesus and his great work.  

     Next week is Easter and this post is appropriate for the week before and all of the stories that go along with His last days upon the earth and the gift He has given to us.

Psalms 23:4 

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will 

fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”

52 Stories in 52 Weeks

52 Stories #52Ancestors

     Blending my own family story of moving to Guadalajara and my ancestor's stories helps me to be diligent in recording both personal history and ancestral history.

Week 10 Strong Woman

     A Strong Woman: My grandmother, Anna Mae Gough, met many of life’s challenges head on. After loosing a baby daughter, she had two sons, then her husband, as he later confessed to my Dad, Joseph Marvin Eckles, was “foolin’ around with a teenage girl that lived round the corner and down the street,” she found the strength to pack up and leave him. The record of those years until she married Golder Winebrenner in California, Moniteau, Missouri in 1924 finally yielded the story of what she had to do to survive.

     I’d inherited her letters, and written notes. Gathering them all in one place I began piecing them together with the transcripts that I had had made of my interviews with my dad, his uncle Anson Gough, a young friend, Effie, of my grandmother who lived in Shirley, Arkansas to compile her history. Yikes, I simply couldn’t figure out why she lived in so many places scattered from Illinois, Missouri, Nebraska, Iowa, Wyoming, Kansas, Oklahoma and Arkansas between the years of 1905 and 1924. Eight states in 19 years equaled a move to another state about every two years. About the time I figured out where exactly she was, to find proof or sources, I would find something else to add.

A Timeline

So I began to establish a chronological timeline and printed this form to help me.  

     Although I have not finished this project and this is only an example, I’ve come to some conclusions.

     Mae was described as a nervous woman, afraid of Arkansas’ terrible storms and tornados, by her young friend, Effie, who knew her; she had the strength to pluck chickens after raising them; to work in a slaughter house; run and clean rooming houses; live in a tent during winter in Wyoming, and finally driving a covered wagon with horses, household goods, chickens and two small boys diagonally from Northwest Kansas, through Oklahoma to Northeast Arkansas, then to central Arkansas.

Her story doesn’t stop here, but it was her sisters and brothers support that gave her the courage to move on. Researching their lives gave me the sources and proofs that I needed to document this very strong woman who was my grandmother.

Anna Mae Gough Eckel Akers Winebrenner 1889-1962

     Now I find myself telling the story of how my family ended up living in California, Tennessee, Arkansas, then to Kwajalein, Marshall Islands and finally to Guadalajara, Jalisco, Mexico and ending up today in Arizona. Guess I’m a strong woman like my grandmother, moving and living all over the world.

     Here is the photo of me with my mother, Ruthe, and my husband Bob at our first dinner date at the American Legion in Guadalajara. The Barbie doll on the table represents our daughter who is busy running all around the place, playing. 

#52Ancestors Week 11

Lucky Me

     I’ve concluded that all of my Grandmother’s moving around was embedded into my genetic cell memory.  After 73 years I have started to have shaking hands, a tremor… It is something I began to experience when I was called to lead the music in Sacrament meeting, so I bought a baton and that controlled my hand. I’ve never called myself nervous, but I can see why a young girl would see this and think of it as being nervous. That’s what Effie said about my grandmother when I interviewed her in Shirley, Arkansas while I was living in Little Rock, AR. I’m so glad I was Lucky enough to find her when I only thought I was looking for the house my grandmother had lived in.

Homes in My Life

     I love to travel and growing up in Southern California, I drove all over in my car. Sometimes I’d just turn up the heater onto my feet, roll down the windows and just go driving the freeways at night with the radio turned to some music station.

     I’ve even lived in 17 or more home over the years. I documented all of the So Cal ones with photographs and later on Zoom Atlas I won a contest winning third place in the nation. Partially the points that I racked up was that I had before and after photos of the houses where we lived. I can’t remember how much the prize was, but I think it was $2000. Pretty nifty.

     All of those moves made it easy to make the one back to Tennessee and Arkansas from my home in California, when I met my husband, Bob. He worried about my reaction when he told me what the father of his second wife had said to her, “You could end up anywhere in the world with him, you know.” Indeed he had lived a year in Paris, France on a Fulbright Scholarship; spent a couple years in the Army in Germany; Lived in England while working for Proctor and Gamble; finally, while working for Holiday Inns, International Division spent more time in Europe than in the US.

     So what was my reaction to his father-in-law’s worrying statement? I replied, “I’m more worried about staying in one place too long and getting bored.” So, aren’t I Lucky to find a man that provided me with the opportunity to live in Tennessee, Arkansas, Kwajalein in the Marshall Islands, living in Guadalajara, Jalisco, Mexico and finally returning to the US and Arizona.

Travel via Cyberspace

     Indeed now that I’m forced to stay in one place because of my disabilities, I’ve found ways to travel in cyberspace so it’s less boring. Aren’t I Lucky that I can do my family history research online rather than actually having to go to courthouses, and stomp through cemeteries?

     I have lived a wonderful exciting life built around family history and moving around a lot; not so very different from my grandmother. She and I not only shared the “moving around” gene, but we looked like we could have been sisters when we were teenagers. Sadly the photos of her at that age have been lost, although I did get to see them during a visit to my step mother’s house long ago.

     My life is far richer than hers ever was because I have the gospel and an eternal companion. This was like discovering a four leaf clover starting about age 21. Very March appropriate. I AM THE LUCKY ONE.

52 Stories about My Family and Guadalajara

This is the photo we had taken before we left for Guadalajara, Jalisco, Mexico when living in Ontario, California in 1995. Our family included Bev, Bob, Brianna, Ruthe, and Harriett our cat.

#52Ancestors Week 9 Where There's a Will...

Where There’s a Will…
     As a Genealogist you might suspect that I’d talk about Wills and Probate records. You’d be wrong. My humble farmer ancestors almost always left no wills, but of course where they did, I was grateful.

Where There’s a Will, There’s a Way

     This is probably the second most common thought that might pop into someone’s mind when finishing that first phrase.
     I’ve been reading 1 Nephi in the Book of Mormon and young Nephi and his older brothers are sent by their father to go back to Jerusalem and get the records and genealogies of their ancestors from a cousin who is a truly wicked and evil man. After a couple of tries by the older brothers, they were going to give up but Nephi said, “I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare away for them that they may accomplish the things which he commandeth them.”
     The Lord then commanded Nephi to go back to the house of his cousin and being led by the spirit, “not knowing beforehand the things which” he should do, he discovered a drunken Laban, his cousin. Long story short, he was commanded to slay Laban. Why? Well it has to do with why record keeping, scriptures and genealogy are so important: “It is better that one man should perish than that a nation should dwindle and perish in unbelief.” (1 Ne 4:13)
     This is exactly what happened to other groups that set forth into the world without records, like the Jaredites and Mulekites who immigrated to the Americas before the time of Christ. Their descendants did record their stories on stone, but to this day no one can read them perfectly thus don’t know their stories.

Legal Stuff like Laws and Wills 

     Listening to a panel of BYU professors discussing this story of Nephi slaying Laban a question was answered for me. It had to do with a Hebrew law that permits, no actually makes it imperative, to punish by death a person who lies, then steals, then bears false witness before others. Like I said, Laban was a truly wicked man who stole Nephi’s family riches, and took away their father Lehi’s good name, and accused them falsely of being thieves and robbers. Nephi was thus legally in the right and had the moral authority to carry out a sentence of death. How horrible it must have been to be asked to cut off a cousin’s head with that man’s own sword.
     In our day, a will is the legal document that protects the family and descendant’s rights, and it must be testified to all along the legal process. This helps us as genealogists in finding the legal heirs.

Doing A Difficult Thing

     I wonder how often we’ve been asked to do difficult things and had the faith to go ahead and do it. Such was the Field’s family move to Mexico. We had prayed about it and knew that it was right for all of us. Then we set about the legal process to make it happen: getting the right visas, setting up a bank account with direct deposit, got a debit card we could use to withdraw money to pay bills in another country, prepared our household goods for either storage or shipment, selected the records we would need to take with us (in my case, genealogical records that I was working on), and got a P.O. Box that forwarded mail down to Guadalajara. Yes, it was a hard thing to do, but we persevered and it was a grand experience. I will continue telling that story here on my blog from time to time.

Gratitude to Amy and her #52Ancestors Prompts

     I’m grateful for the weekly prompts from Amy Johnson Crow in her #52Ancestors for 52 weeks to get me posting each week. Sometimes it will be personal history recorded and sometimes stories of my ancestors; other times it will be stories about our living in Mexico, the land where many people suppose that some of the Book of Mormon stories take place.

Why Didn't I Buy Heirlooms in Mexico?

Heirlooms and I

     The past six months have found me moving from one house to a smaller one. I was the end of line repository for my husband's family and my family heirlooms. Handling each one I needed to make a decision of what to keep. My Millenial daughter said, "Just get rid of all that stuff, mom."

Living in Mexico from 1995 to 2001

     I have been tying my blog into my family's story of living in Mexico. For this poignant story about heirlooms it wasn't hard to find something to think about or write about. We unexpectedly returned to the United States and when we finally settled and unpacked in Arizona, I realized that although I'd purchased many, many beautiful handcrafted gifts for others, I'd never bought one thing for our own family and now it was too late. All I have are photos, no objects. Yet this was a significant period in our family's life. NO HEIRLOOMS for the future. We don't think about the fact that we are creating the heirlooms for our grandchildren.

The Story of the Symbolic Quilt 

     Last fall I realized that I had several handmade quilts that are never used in Arizona's climate, so I decided to send them to my daughter who now resides in Michigan because I know she could really use them. One however became quite a symbol for heirlooms in our day and age.
     My grandmother had made this certain quilt in red, white and blue. I loved it. It was patriotic. It was made from seed or flour sacks. But it had a history. When a stepson was about 11 years of age, he was about to get caught reading in bed under the covers of the lower bunk bed late one night. He tossed his lamp, still lit, under "my" quilt on the top bunk bed and forgot about it. It smoldered all night long. A hole was created in it.
     Because I loved that quilt so much and it was the last thing my grandmother gave me before she died, I was devastated. Over the years I tried to find a seamstress or quilter who could repair it. I'd even tried to find matching fabrics for this purpose over the years. Alas, no one could tell me how to repair it or do it themselves until last fall. A friend decided we should try to salvage it by patching it and then I could send it to my daughter in Michigan. When the patch was finished and it told it's own story, we washed the quilt one last time on gentle cycle to see how it would do. It fell apart.

So the Story has Another Twist

    The materials used to create it couldn't withstand the repairs that had stronger threads. Now it sits in a closet awaiting a wall mounting, because it can never be used as a quilt again cuddling my grandchildren in harsh Michigan winters. Now only I will see it when I go into a room I seldom use. Only I appreciate it's history and story.
     The beloved heirloom was made from free easily found materials that were unable to withstand the test of time, it was treated negligently, it's burnt hole was after many years unfixable. Now the quilt stands as a symbol of all heirlooms who were made with love from perishable materials, then treated with indifference, put into attics, packed away until an "Antiques Roadshow" moment, left unloved under the bed or in a long forgotten box only to be remembered too late. Oh, let us not procrastinate taking care to create quality heirlooms for the future and preserve the ones we have inherited with care.