Aurora in Quebec City!

 

I never imagined I would get to see the Aurora Borealis at all…let alone in Utah! However, Quebec City does seem like a somewhat more likely place to see them, so when we came here it did cross my mind that they might be visible at some point. But who has time to keep abreast of such things? There are aurora trackers you can check, but…you have to check them! I never think of it!

Luckily there are those in my circle who DO think of it. Sam is one of them. Seb is another. My brother Karl is another. So in October I was made aware that there had been a large coronal mass ejection which might cause aurora. Sam kept an eye on the predictions throughout the next day or two, though, and when it looked like it was going to be disappointing, we forgot about it.

BUT LUCKILY! Daisy and I were standing out on the balcony looking out at the city before bed, as we often do. And Daisy said, "I see light in the sky like we did that time we saw the aurora." 

I said, "Oh, hmm…could be!" (politely, because I didn't want to dash her dear little hopes, but I did not see anything.) 

We took a picture. And yes…it did look like it could be the lights! Or possibly clouds. But the forecast was good for it so Sam ran and got the car and we drove north!

Unfortunately, north was precisely the direction the clouds were going—the actual clouds, not the sort-of-cloudy-looking aurora. And we drove up into the mountains right into them. We were texting and talking on the phone with Sebastian (who was on his own aurora hunt and ended up seeing them on a red-eye flight to Chicago or somewhere) and feeling so worried that it wouldn't clear up! "Well, we did see them already in Utah, which is more than we ever thought we'd get to see," we kept saying, trying to console ourselves.

It was pretty interesting even with the clouds and intermittent rain, though. You could definitely see the green glow diffused through the clouds! Even with your naked eye you could. It looked like there was a city somewhere back behind the clouds lighting them up, though of course, there wasn't—but that's how my mind kept wanting to interpret it, since of course it makes no sense to have the sky itself just glowing!

The clouds were moving fast, especially when we got up into the mountains past Jacques Cartier National Park. The glow of the aurora would get brighter and dimmer as the clouds thinned and thickened. We got some rain. But the clouds never actually moved fully away! It was frustrating because we could tell the aurora was really bright and strong…if we could have just blown away those clouds! We drove along the pitch-dark highway (it was after midnight by this time), Daisy and I leaning and peering through our windows and saying, "there! I see light! I can see shimmering! I can see stripes in the sky!"…and then we'd find a spot to pull over and look and it would be cloudy again.

Ordinary lives among ordinary families

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Saturday Morning Session of the October 2007 Conference.

I have no memory of ever hearing President Packer's talk in this session, but I loved it! It was a very personal talk, and I always like hearing people's stories, but I also just liked the reminder of how the power of the church really does come from so many ordinary individuals all just trying their best! Of course it doesn't always work perfectly because we don't work perfectly, but just imagine how amazing it would be if you could duplicate this in any other organization:

Once the gospel is preached and the Church is organized, there is an inexhaustible supply of faithful brothers and sisters who have that testimony and are willing to answer the call to serve. They commit themselves to the work of the Lord and live the standards required of them.

Members have had the Holy Ghost conferred upon them after their baptism. The Holy Ghost will teach and comfort them. They are then prepared to receive guidance, direction, and correction, whatever their position or needs require.

That self-teaching, self-building, self-correcting function that the Holy Ghost serves for each calling is so amazing! I can learn how to teach a bunch of teenagers about Jesus, or how to help a group of children learn songs about the gospel, or how to inspire a group of ladies to dive deeper into the scriptures—even when I have no experience, no real aptitude, no leadership skill—I can learn all of that anyway, step by step, from the Holy Ghost! It's a miracle, and one I've actually experienced multiple times.

President Packer then tells this story:

Forty-six years ago I was a 37-year-old seminary supervisor. My Church calling was as an assistant teacher in a class in the Lindon Ward.

To my great surprise, I was called to meet with President David O. McKay. He took both of my hands in his and called me to be one of the General Authorities, an Assistant to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.

A few days later, I came to Salt Lake City to meet with the First Presidency to be set apart as one of the General Authorities of the Church. This was the first time I had met with the First Presidency—President David O. McKay and his counselors, President Hugh B. Brown and President Henry D. Moyle.

President McKay explained that one of the responsibilities of an Assistant to the Twelve was to stand with the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles as a special witness and to bear testimony that Jesus is the Christ. What he said next overwhelmed me: “Before we proceed to set you apart, I ask you to bear your testimony to us. We want to know if you have that witness.”

I did the best I could. I bore my testimony the same as I might have in a fast and testimony meeting in my ward. To my surprise, the Brethren of the Presidency seemed pleased and proceeded to confer the office upon me.

That puzzled me greatly, for I had supposed that someone called to such an office would have an unusual, different, and greatly enlarged testimony and spiritual power.

It puzzled me for a long time until finally I could see that I already had what was required: an abiding testimony in my heart of the Restoration of the fulness of the gospel through the Prophet Joseph Smith, that we have a Heavenly Father, and that Jesus Christ is our Redeemer. I may not have known all about it, but I did have a testimony, and I was willing to learn.

I just like that so much. Even though I know objectively speaking that "church leaders" aren't some special class of people (and obviously I have seen church leaders be all-too-human in certain situations, and have been an all-too-human leader myself)—I still find myself thinking, "Well, the Seventies, though! And the Twelve Apostles! They really are a special sort of person with a special sort of testimony." And of course in one sense that's true. They are experienced and wise. They have special keys. But for some reason it just seems so powerful to me what President Packer says here, that anyone might have what is required to be a special witness of Christ: "an abiding testimony…of the Restoration of the fulness of the gospel through the Prophet Joseph Smith, that we have a Heavenly Father, and that Jesus Christ is our Redeemer." I guess it's powerful to me because I DO have that! And just like Elder Packer was, I am willing to learn! And that is really enough to serve in any position God requires!

President Packer continues:

As General Authorities of the Church, we are just the same as you are, and you are just the same as we are. You have the same access to the powers of revelation for your families and for your work and for your callings as we do.

It is also true that there is an order to things in the Church. When you are called to an office, you then receive revelation that belongs to that office that would not be given to others.

No member of the Church is esteemed by the Lord as more or less than any other. It just does not work that way! Remember, He is a father—our Father. The Lord is “no respecter of persons.”

We are not worth more to the onrolling of the Lord’s work than were Brother and Sister Toutai Paletu‘a in Nuku‘alofa, Tonga; or Brother and Sister Carlos Cifuentes in Santiago, Chile; or Brother and Sister Peter Dalebout in the Netherlands; or Brother and Sister Tatsui Sato of Japan; or hundreds of others I have met while traveling about the world. It just does not work that way.

And so the Church moves on. It is carried upon the shoulders of worthy members living ordinary lives among ordinary families, guided by the Holy Ghost and the Light of Christ, which is in them.

I love that, and it inspires me to do a little better in my little part of the church, wherever I am and whatever my calling is!

Stretch themselves again and again

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Young Women's Session of the April 2007 Conference.

In Sister Julie B. Beck's talk this session, there were two thoughts about repentance I really liked. First, I liked the way she applied this scripture (originally given to Joseph Smith) to all of us:

It is Satan who puts hopeless thoughts into the hearts of those who have made mistakes. The Lord Jesus Christ always gives us hope. He says:

"Thou wast chosen to do the work of the Lord, but because of transgression, if thou art not aware thou wilt fall. 

"But remember, God is merciful; therefore, repent of that which thou hast done which is contrary to the commandment which I gave you, and thou art still chosen, and art again called to the work."

And I really liked this quote she shared from President Kimball too:

The cultivation of Christlike qualities is a demanding and relentless task—it is not for the seasonal worker or for those who will not stretch themselves, again and again.

The stretching process isn't easy, but it results in growth, and I do want growth!

Other posts in this series:

Modesty is more than just not showing skin—by Rozy

You will come to know Him better

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Sunday Afternoon Session of the April 2007 Conference.

I loved Elder Eyring's talk in this session! I want to quote all of it, but I'll confine myself to a few favorite parts. He starts out by citing a bunch of scriptures that talk about the importance of "this day" and warn against delaying our choice to commit to God. Then he talks about how easy it is to forget the urgency of "this day":

All of us will need His help to avoid the tragedy of procrastinating what we must do here and now to have eternal life. For most of us the temptation to delay will come from one or both of two feelings. They are polar opposites: one is to be complacent about what we have already done, and the other is to feel overwhelmed by the need to do more.…

Complacency can affect even the seasoned adult. The better and the longer you serve, the more likely that the tempter can place this lie in your mind: “You have earned a rest.” You may have been the Primary president in your little branch twice. Or you may have worked long and hard on your mission and sacrificed so much to serve. Or perhaps you were the pioneer in the Church where you live. The thought may come: “Why not leave the service to the new people. I have done my part.” The temptation will be to believe that you will return to serve again, someday.…

This rings so true because I have felt it to some degree myself, and I've seen the results of it in other places. Abe served in a little branch on his mission where there were a number of members who just…got tired of doing everything. Of always being the one with a calling. Of always have to help others. Of never really being appreciated or having a rest. And it totally makes sense! I suppose in a Zion society no one would have to bear those lopsided burdens! But…the trouble is (and this is what Elder Eyring points out), if we start thinking that way, we actually are depriving ourselves of blessings, actually limiting our own ability to have joy in God's service. Elder Eyring says:

It is hard to know when we have done enough for the Atonement to change our natures and so qualify us for eternal life. And we don’t know how many days we will have to give the service necessary for that mighty change to come. But we know that we will have days enough if only we don’t waste them.…

In the hardest trials, as long as you have the power to pray, you can ask a loving God: “Please let me serve, this day. It doesn’t matter to me how few things I may be able to do. Just let me know what I can do. I will obey this day. I know that I can, with Thy help.”

Then he continues:

For those who are discouraged by their circumstances and are therefore tempted to feel they cannot serve the Lord this day, I make you two promises. Hard as things seem today, they will be better in the next day if you choose to serve the Lord this day with your whole heart. Your circumstances may not be improved in all the ways which you desire. But you will have been given new strength to carry your burdens and new confidence that when your burdens become too heavy, the Lord, whom you have served, will carry what you cannot. He knows how. He prepared long ago. He suffered your infirmities and your sorrows when He was in the flesh so that He would know how to succor you.

The other promise I make to you is that by choosing to serve Him this day, you will feel His love and grow to love Him more.…

By serving Him this day, you will come to know Him better. You will feel His love and appreciation. You would not want to delay receiving that blessing. And feeling His love will draw you back to His service, wiping away both complacency and discouragement.

It's so fitting that God's love—which we feel more and more as we serve Him and His children—is the cure for both extremes, for the complacency and for the discouragement. It's exactly what every person needs. And it's available to us at all times! We just have to begin somewhere (this day!), reaching for that love by making some effort to serve the people around us.

Other posts in this series:

"Mom, are we Christians?"—by Rozy

Quebec City mornings

I love the early mornings here in the city, and when I manage to get outside for a walk I love them even more. I don't ever get tired of seeing all the landmarks in different weather and different light. Someone said to me the other day (when we were in Montreal), "I think Quebec City is the most beautiful city in North America." I think so too! Every one of these little vignettes could be its own postcard, especially when no people are out and the light is just right (and with Fall in full swing!), but taken together in real life they are breathtaking. I feel so lucky to live here and get to know these places for myself!

Festival de Magie, Conference, Cruise Ships, and other things

In September, the "Festival de Magie de Québec" came to Quebec City. For several days, there were free magic shows all afternoon in Place d'Youville up the street, and there were magic classes and bigger magic shows in the evening in a couple different venues. It was also our neighborhood's annual street fair, so there was lots to go see and do! Rue Saint-Jean was closed to cars, and the stores moved their merchandise outside onto tables or under tents. Very festive. As we walked along the street, we also saw lots of little crowds gathering around various wandering magicians (from the festival, no doubt) out demonstrating their tricks. I told Malachi he should come out and do card tricks (you wouldn't believe the amazing things he can do, I am in awe) but I don't think he ever did.

Sainte-Anne-de-Beaupré

Sainte-Anne-de-Beaupré is the name of a cathedral (and the town by the cathedral) not far from Quebec City. ("Sanctuary-Shrine," its website says. And basilica. So…not a cathedral? I don't know.) We see signs for it every day, and we see the spires of it in the distance when we drive to L'Île d'Orléans or up the river toward Tadoussac. But we kept putting off actually visiting it…because it was so close and easy, I guess. I kept weighing it against other excursions and thinking, "Well, we can go to Sainte-Anne anytime…" Finally when the Fall weather was at its best I thought, "Won't we be sorry if we miss it altogether!" So we packed our obligatory picnic (truly, you have never known such picnickers as us on this trip…it borders on the absurd) and went.

The drive up is so beautiful. All those trees along the hills.

The church itself is really huge. You don't realize how huge till you get closer. It's been around since almost the beginning of the settlement here in Quebec in the 1600's—not this building, but a chapel here. The first one was built in honor of Sainte-Anne, the mother of Mary. (Sainte-Anne is now the patron saint of Quebec.) At some point they acquired a relic of Sainte-Anne (a finger bone, if I recall correctly) and it became a shrine. And then I think the church just kept building bigger buildings to accommodate pilgrims and worshipers. This current iteration isn't all that old. Started in the 1920's sometime after the old one burned in a fire, and not finished till after World War II.

Healing power and hope

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Sunday Morning Session of the April 2007 Conference.

I remember Elder Oaks' talk from this session with a great weight of memory. When I read it, I immediately travel back to that time. It's not a happy time, not easy to write about. At the time of this conference, Sam and I were divorced. Yes, we divorced for a brief time. There is so much backstory and context I could put around that statement, but it's not something I've ever wanted to hide—just something that's hard to bring up out of nowhere, especially since our life has (thanks be to God!) moved on to such a happier place now. (And if you're thinking, "Well, I'm sure it wasn't her fault!"—it's not true. It was my fault.)

So when I heard Elder Oaks say his first words—"I have felt impressed to speak about divorce"—I knew he was talking to me. But not in the usual, benign way, "the Lord inspired this message and it feels like it could be just for me!"—no. You see, my parents are friends with Elder Oaks and I knew they had written to him about my circumstances. So I was pretty sure this talk was actually written because of me. As I listened to it at this difficult time, I didn't disagree with any of his points. I wasn't even offended when he said things like…

The kind of marriage required for exaltation—eternal in duration and godlike in quality—does not contemplate divorce.

and 

I strongly urge you and those who advise you to face up to the reality that for most marriage problems, the remedy is not divorce but repentance.

and

Think first of the children.

I knew he was right. I even agreed with him, in theory. But I felt great and far-reaching despair because I assumed I had already failed, already forfeited my chance at obeying these doctrines.

The story of the next few months and years is too much to be told here—I would tell you in person, if you asked me. For now I will just say that Elder Oaks' advice that in a marriage, both spouses

should balance current disappointments against the good of the past and the brighter prospects of the future

—felt literally impossible to follow for me at that time. I saw no brighter prospects and I could hardly believe in them. Only unbroken dimness ahead as far as I could imagine. I'm sure Satan was working as hard as he could to make me believe that was all there would ever be, and I believed him, for a time. But now I can see that Elder Oaks was right. There was a much brighter future ahead. And I also believe in this promise as I could not dream of believing it then:

Under the law of the Lord, a marriage, like a human life, is a precious, living thing. If our bodies are sick, we seek to heal them. We do not give up. While there is any prospect of life, we seek healing again and again. The same should be true of our marriages, and if we seek Him, the Lord will help us and heal us.

Re-reading this talk brings, as I said, a great weight of memory with it. In spite of all I've learned since that time, I'm still learning and processing my experiences. I still feel sadness thinking back on them, though the sadness has mellowed. Oddly, I found peace this time in reading the talk that came before Elder Oaks' talk, by President Faust about Forgiveness. He quotes Brigham Young as saying:

Every trial and experience you have passed through is necessary for your salvation.

I know this doesn't excuse sin and it doesn't take away agency and consequences. But it is comforting doctrine. I can see many so ways I have grown since this, and in part because of this, difficult time. Those lessons were necessary for my growth. There were significant blessings along the way. And Sam's and my marriage has grown too. I look back now, as I could not then, with the perspective that President Oaks described for couples who worked through marriage difficulties:

[They] emerged with their marriages even stronger. That prospect began with their mutual commitment to keep the commandments, stay active in their Church attendance, scripture reading, and prayer, and to work on their own shortcomings. They “recognized the importance and power of the Atonement for their spouse and for themselves,” and “they were patient and would try again and again.”

And I can be thankful for this most important lesson of all, one I began to learn from divorce many years ago and and am still learning now through my continuing experiences:

All who have been through divorce know the pain and need the healing power and hope that come from the Atonement.

I do know that. And I am grateful to know that. These experiences are leading me, as Brigham Young said, toward salvation, and I am so thankful that they are!

Isle aux Coudres and the beautiful fall leaves

I've been trying not to panic over enjoying Fall here (or rather, over not enjoying Fall enough while it lasts) because it's fine, we are enjoying it, it will last however long it lasts and I'm trying to embrace the idea of winter as its own beautiful season too. Do you feel reassured? :)

However, considering how much I love Fall* in Utah, I knew I would love it here too and that's enough to have galvanized me into getting the family out-and-about even more than I would normally want to. Or, as Malachi described it in his letter home—"This week we picnicked like as we might have been teddy bears or something. We embarked into the cool fall weather to eat outside at least 3 times in 6 days." Yes. This is true. I just don't want to live a life of Quebec-Fall-regret!

*Have we discussed how the seasons really ought be capitalized, and yet for some unsatisfying reason [because they are "general nouns," not proper nouns, in fact] they aren't? I chafe at that rule. I rebel against it. Unless it suits my purposes not to.

We drove UP (in cardinal direction) or DOWN (in river-current direction) (I have discovered that many of the children are very confused about this and frequently think we visiting vastly different locations, geographically speaking, than we really are) to another little island, L'Isle aux Coudres. I won't bore you with the details* about why this island is "isle" while the closer island is "île", but suffice it to say that this island is smaller and farther away than our beloved L'île d'Orléans, and there is no bridge, so you have to ride a ferry to it. It's about two hours northeast of Quebec City.

*Much like how when a politician starts a sentence with "Let me be perfectly honest with you" you know he or she is about to start lying—when you read this phrase here you know I'm about to bore you with some details.

Pink arrow points to L'isle aux Coudres. You can see L'île d'Orléans down there at the bottom.

We stopped for pastries, of course, at our preferred bakery up toward Ste-Anne-de-Beaupré. Somehow the shop man thought I said "croissants" when I said "torsades," causing great disappointment in the ranks when I returned to the car with said pastries, but never mind, the construction worker outside (there was road construction right at the key point and I had to take my life in my hands walking in and out through a friendly crew of backhoe operators doing their best to make it impossible) saw our Utah license plates, welcomed me effusively to Quebec, sent me off to a nearby farm stand to pick up some apples, and then offered to carry my bags back to the car. Very kind people in these parts. The bakery man, to his credit (and the croissant/torsade mistake was no doubt my accent's fault anyway), remembered me from last time and asked if, in addition to the cheese bread I was ordering, I wanted a cheese-and-bacon bread—pour ton mari (for my husband)! Because real men want bacon in their bread, as we all know!

Whale watching

It was so lucky we could reschedule our whale-watching trip when we had such rainy, foggy days! I don't suppose we could have seen anything beyond the boat in the fog, and we would have been so miserable and wet! As it turned out, the clouds cleared in early afternoon as we drove up the coast to Les Escoumins, and by the time we arrived the weather was sunny and clear!

I was surprised when I found out there were whales in the St. Lawrence River at all! Apparently they sometimes (rarely!) swim all the way even to Quebec City, but they love the estuary area up where the St. Lawrence widens and the fresh water from the river and salt water from the ocean start to mix. (You can see the fjord at Tadoussac, a little southwest of the red dot here. Whales and dolphins like that spot too.) I guess there are lots of plankton and other things to eat in these areas because of the turbulence of the mixing water.

Charlevoix

We went on a little trip up the St. Lawrence River to the Charlevoix region. It was funny to go on an overnight stay to a different house while living at our Quebec house. For some reason it made us feel even more like Quebec is "home"—to go away, miss our house and our neighborhood, and then return to it.

Our main purpose for going was to go on a whale-watching boat—I had heard that this was a good place to do it and it just sounded fun! But it was fun to get to stay a little longer and see a little more than we would have had time for on just a day trip to Charlevoix, too.

It was a foggy, rainy day when we left.  The road goes up along the river for a while, but then it goes up through some mountains. It got SO foggy as we drove through the mountain roads! It was a little scary and I was glad Sam was driving, not me.

Parc national de la Jacques‑Cartier

There is a national park only a half hour away from Quebec City and we'd been wanting to get out there. Finally we found a time to do it! When we got there, the main road into the park was closed and we were sad because the hike we'd wanted to do wasn't accessible. But the ranger recommended another hike and we ended up loving that one, so it was just as well. The weather was so nice! Not too hot. Not humid. Just beautiful.

The leaves were starting to change colors, but were still green in a lot of places. I love the mix of yellow and green in early Fall.

Now is (still) the time

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Priesthood Session of the April 2007 Conference.

Probably the line from the most recent General Conference that hit me the hardest was President Nelson's counsel that "now is the time for us to make our discipleship our highest priority." Then I ran into a second witness—Elder Hales from 2007:

Now is the time to become a disciple of Jesus Christ, which means accepting His invitation to “come, follow me.” This is the decision we made in our premortal lives. Now we must make it again here in mortality, every day, in every situation by taking the Savior’s name upon us, remembering His atoning sacrifice, and keeping His commandments.

If it was the time in 2007, and it's the time now (and luckily also "it is neither too early nor too late for you to become a devout disciple of Jesus Christ,")—it seems pretty clear that this should be something I'm paying attention to!

Other posts in this series:

What does it profit?—by Rozy

An expression of our faith

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Saturday Afternoon Session of the April 2007 Conference.

This session was the re-dedication of the remodeled Salt Lake Tabernacle. President Hinckley gave a brief dedicatory prayer at the end, and several of the speakers shared memories about things that had happened in the building, so that was interesting and different. But my favorite talk was Sister Bonnie D. Parkin's, about gratitude. She started with this quote from Eliza R. Snow:

From this pulpit in 1870, Eliza R. Snow asked thousands of women a question that I’d like to repeat today: “Do you know of any place on the face of the earth, where [a] woman has more liberty, and where she enjoys such high and glorious privileges as she does here, as a Latter-day Saint?”

That struck me because Sister Annette Dennis said something similar recently and a whole bunch of people got all up in arms about it. So silly. In my opinion there's absolutely no other possible answer to Eliza R. Snow's question than, "No. Nowhere." The gospel of Jesus Christ is the thing that gives women the most hope, the most power, the most purpose, and the most knowledge of our divine potential—even when the people trying to live that gospel are clumsy and imperfect. That seems so clear to me!

In Sister Parkin's talk, I liked her emphasis on expressing gratitude. She said:

Gratitude is a Spirit-filled principle. It opens our minds to a universe permeated with the richness of a living God. Through it, we become spiritually aware of the wonder of the smallest things, which gladden our hearts with their messages of God’s love. This grateful awareness heightens our sensitivity to divine direction. When we communicate gratitude, we can be filled with the Spirit and connected to those around us and the Lord.

I know feeling grateful is important, but I've noticed when I talk about my gratitude (or write about it), I feel it even more strongly. Sometimes in my thoughts I'm too strongly inclined to rush past gratitude like "yeah yeah, I know I should be grateful for everything, but this specific thing is super hard!" Or "of course I'm grateful for what I have, but what I wish I had is ______!" Expressing gratitude in words forces me to slow down and live within it a little more. I've often noticed that even when I'm talking only to Sam (to whom I can complain about things I wouldn't complain about to anyone else, and he listens and I'm grateful)—but even with him, when I focus on blessings and gratitude—about our children, about our home, about our families—I end the conversation feeling more uplifted and hopeful than the times when I just relieve my complaining feelings by giving voice to them.

I also liked this thought:

Luke chapter 17 records the experience of the Savior when He healed ten lepers. As you recall, only one of the cleansed lepers returned to express his appreciation. Isn’t it interesting that the Lord did not say, “Your gratitude has made you whole”? Instead, He said, “Thy faith hath made thee whole.”

The leper’s expression of gratitude was recognized by the Savior as an expression of his faith. As we pray and express gratitude to a loving but unseen Heavenly Father, we are also expressing our faith in Him. Gratitude is our sweet acknowledgment of the Lord’s hand in our lives; it is an expression of our faith. 

I like thinking that gratitude is not just acknowledging what I've been given, but also having faith that all the things I've been given are good. Since this talk by President Nelson, I'm always looking for faith-filled actions I can take to "move mountains" in my life, and if gratitude really is a demonstration of faith, it seems like an obvious choice. When I'm feeling bad about something sad or hard in my life, maybe trying to speak or write or think gratefully about it—even when I can't quite feel grateful for it—will be the faith-filled action needed to unlock God's power and help me move forward to the next step.

Nice people

A non-exhaustive list of some of the people who have been kind to us, strangers in a strange land. Honestly so many people have been nice. I could include our entire branch and most of the people who have helped me out in various stores in spite of my mauvais français. Something about being new and unfamiliar with everything just makes me feel so raw and vulnerable all the time, so every time someone is especially nice I almost cry with gratitude. Thank heaven for good people all over the world!

1. The sweet owner at a children's clothing store where I was buying a dress for Clementine. She said she "loved to practice her English" and asked me all about life in Quebec, told me to visit the île d'Orléans, gave me some tiny macarons while we talked, and quickly steamed the little smocked dress because it had been folded and she didn't want it to have any wrinkles. She gave me her card and said, "Please call me if you have any questions or problems in the city. Not—you know—not just things about my store. But anything you might need. I would love to help you."

2. The man who came up to us excitedly after a meal at a restaurant and asked us in French, "you have eight children, yes? Four sons, four daughters? It is the same for me. My family—four boys, four girls. It is a beautiful way to grow up." He was so pleased about it, I saw him stop and tell the waitress too on his way out.😄 (Didn't have the heart to tell him we had a couple more boys at home…)

3. The lady who waved me down as I was driving along the street looking for parking in the van and told me about an open spot she'd seen one street over. "I see you often trying to park, and I think you are very brave to drive here in this vehicle." Ha ha. Thank you?

4. Our longsuffering downstairs neighbor, who has come up the balcony and leaned through the back door multiple times when only the children are home to tell them to please be a little quieter. "He's always so nice and apologetic," the kids told me. "He doesn't get mad, he just says, 'it's a little hard to concentrate, perhaps you could give a little less noise?'" Bless him for that. We have finally moved our magnatiles upstairs (they come crashing down, when they crash, with a terrific clatter and we finally figured out that it must reverberate magnificently through the floor) so we haven't heard from him for a few weeks now, and I hope it's been better! We have taken those neighbors a plate of cookies and two loaves of bread now, so I hope that will help keep relations smooth.😬

5. Frère Petryk at church, an older gentleman who is very short ("that tiny man," Clementine referred to him as, and then corrected herself to "he's a middle-sized man") and so, so friendly. He was the first person who came to meet us church, and he carries candies in his pockets for the children and jokes with them in the strongest, most twangy Quebecois French you could imagine. They all run up to him with saluts and bonjours now as soon as we get to church. 

6. The owner of the board game store who has made friends with Malachi and speaks enthusiastically in English with him about the latest games. He called Ky personally when he got a game in stock that they had talked about, and he lets Malachi rent games for a week to bring them home and try them out with the family. His store has been such a happy place for Malachi to go, and to bring Abe and Daisy to in a proprietary sort of way.

7. The lady at the English-language Morrin Library who sends me personal emails now that I'm a "member," to let me know about story time and local library-card discounts and other things I might not have discovered on my own.

8. The owner of the casse-croûte (a little restaurant or "snack bar") we visited near Montreal who sent an employee out to tell us that he thought we had a "beautiful family" and he would like to give us some free chocolate cake. This was after we had all trooped into the tiny dining area like a parade of monkeys, taken up three tables, spilled two cups of water, and failed to have a working debit card and so had had to run across the street to get cash at an ATM. It was surprising and humbling to suddenly have someone do such a nice thing for us. After we'd eaten the (amazingly delicious) cake (made fresh every day by the same lady for 20 years, the employee told us), the owner came out and told us again how "lovely" our family was and took a picture of us in front of his restaurant. We felt so special!

9. The firemen at the fire station on Rue Saint-Jean who let Teddy and Ziggy try on a helmet, sit in the fire truck, and even turn on the flashing lights! They spoke in their limited English to the little boys, and were very pleased with Ziggy's fireman costume (or "habit" as they called it😄). We see them out and about sometimes in their fire truck and they often give a little siren blast and wave to Ziggy.

10. Two men in Deschambault who became so invested in my getting out of a tight parking place that they wouldn't let me give up on it. I had parked for a farmer's market and been hemmed in by other cars while I was gone, and when I came back there were literally just inches between our van and the three cars all around me. I tried one angle and then another and finally decided there was no way to get out besides waiting for the other drivers to come back and move. As a curious crowd gathered (people gawk at our van here; I don't know why because there seem to be plenty of other biggish cars and trucks), two men positioned themselves at both ends of the car and started calling encouraging things and showing me how far I had to go with their hands. At that point I felt I had to keep trying, so with great embarrassment I inched back and forth, back and forth, back and forth about thirty times (I'm not kidding) to their encouraging shouts of "Allez-y!" When I finally cleared the other cars and swiveled over far enough that I could drive away, everyone clapped—for all three of us, I suppose!