Monday, December 31, 2012


SATURDAY

Grateful to dog walkers for packed trails
And the skiff of snow that covers the ice 

The panorama stretches out
The low hanging cloud, the snowy mountains, the foggy sky scrapers
COP lights still on
Signal hill flashing
A coyote crosses my path
Runs then watches me
Luck has touched my day. 

Excited to circle and climb the hill
The pink is just starting
The first burning glow sneaking over the expanse of prairie snow
The mountains glowing in fuzzy golden pink
The sun a spotlight waking up the houses on the crest of the hill
I turn back

 Deep in thought,
Caught by surprise
Snow sparkles grab me in their dance 
The sun has caught me
Its golden orb has lit the sky and the snow and the mountains and me 

I gasp
Lit up with brightness
A rush of light and joy
A new day

Friday, December 14, 2012


I am happy that……

 

I look and the mirror looks back
The wrinkles tell me
I`m different
Walking in the darkness
Fresh and strong from the exercise
 It sweeps over me
I`m happy that……
I played
Controlling the ball, easily
Hanging in the air, deciding where to hit
Perfectly timed and powerful
Then down, up and back,
Waiting to jump again

Quiet together,
Just you and me
Grateful you empty me
Your cheek to my skin
Gently to sleep
Then
Laundry and lunches and laughter
The work ,the play
Driving, dancing, drama
I`m happy that……
One by one you came
And stayed a while with me
 
I worked and built a business,
Working and thinking
Worrying and dreaming
Sticking to it through the Master’s
Can’t imagine now how
I kept at it
Expecting  I could
Seems crazy now
I am happy that …….
I did it and still do
 
That night,
The first long night together
Talking laughing, being close
And then the kiss, finally the kiss
Since then
Passion, prayers,
Being one
So much, so deep, our love
I’ll miss you when you go ahead
But for now
I’m happy to be with you
 And most of all
I’m happy I found
You
Only You know
Everything about me
My dreams, my cares
My loves
Past and present
Always and forever
What I have touched
What has touched me

And
Only You know
What’s coming
Its okay
I feel calm and strong
Wth You
In the dark.

Tuesday, November 13, 2012


MY TEACHER, MY FRIEND 

 

Faster faster

I let you go

You are in charge now

Both of us free

 

I have to stop

I pull harder

Nothing works

You keep going

head tucked tight

Never slowing

You won’t be stopped by me

 

I trick you and let go

The surprise works,

You brake, then go, I trick again

 

I grab your mane to stay on

Too late, too fast

I fall in a heap

You grab a bite of grass

With haughty look

You say with your eyes,

What a waste

Get up

Get on

Let’s go

 

Don’t you know who you are?

That you shouldn’t try to win?

But you always do

Always in front

Walking, trotting, running

It’s all the same

 

It’s just you

Perfectly you

No thought no worry

Just do it

Just go

Let’s run

 

November 13, 2012

 

 

I Remember


 


I remember

First a twinge

Soon full out hand springs

Inside of me

You were becoming someone

Anxious for space you came out

So much to learn now, you and me

I watched you unfold

Growing, learning changing

 

I remember

The walks talks thoughts

The drives the rides the hurrying

Eating on the run

Teaching laughing crying worrying

And yes, fighting

To figure out who you were

Your place in the world

 

I stop

Dry my eyes and wonder

Do you remember?

So far away for you now that time
 
So close for me still

Shadows of a different world, our world

I wish, I wonder, I wait for your call

 

Esther Hudson, November 13, 2012

Monday, October 8, 2012

The Sides of Me

























I mostly grew up in Scandia, a community originally settled by people from Sweden or Norway. Scandia is a hamlet and today has 46 “dwellings”.  Many more than when I lived there.  There was a lumber yard, an apiary, a general store, a school and the grain elevator but pretty much everyone in the community farmed – mostly mixed farming. 

 

There was little diversity – just religion. The three “established” religions were Lutheran (Missouri Synod), United Church of Canada and Roman Catholic.  I quickly found that being “Mormon” was not okay.  Overhearing derogatory remarks on the party telephone, a best friend who could never “sleep over” and being challenged by my grade three classmates about my non-attendance at church all got the message through.  Being told not to “fold my arms” during the Lord’s prayer by a grade three teacher who told me she had gone to the Mormon church and they didn’t do that had me learn to hide any religious differences.    I became adept at avoiding “Mormon” language and terms.  I kept my activities - Primary, Young Women’s, summer camp to myself. 

 

These experiences did not lessen my testimony and love of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I compared all community experiences to my church experiences and the community ones always came up lacking.  The Sunday meetings of our little branch in Rainer were what were real.  It felt like home there. Stake Girls Camp was a wonderful time.  To be surrounded with so many girls who all spoke the same language and had the same religious experiences was wonderful.  I quickly made friend with girls from Rosemary, Barnwell, Taber and Bow Island. There are women who I still hug and are excited to see almost 50 years later from those brief summer camping days.

 

The church continued to be a central part of what I did and who I was.  My identify was forged as a member of the church.  It was what I loved, what I did and defined what I strived to be.  I had wonderful role models, Arlene Evans in particular, women who were strong and intelligent and questioning.  I saw myself like that and wanted to have what they had, a temple marriage to a true friend and a family.  My patriarchal blessing assured me that I was on track with being who Heavenly Father wanted me to be. 

 

When I dated, after several short relationships, I chose the most religious boy in the school to date.  Although he didn’t understand all the doctrine of the church, he was committed to living a spiritual life.  We shared a love of the Saviour.  We dated for several years and I really loved him.  I came to realize however that unless he shared my testimony of the restored church he could never really understand who I was.  That was too much a part of me.   I shared this with him.  He later investigated the church and without my knowledge, was baptized.  He said it was not because of me, but that the missionaries had taught him more about the Saviour than he had ever known.  I believed him.  When I prayed about whether we should marry, the answer was clearly no.  His parents would never have accepted me and likely him either.  They were “Evangelical Free” members, devoted and his father would not talk to me when I visited. 

 

I married and had children and developed a professional life.  I had a lot of problem integrating the two sides of myself – the life as a Mormon wife and mother and a professional consultant.  It was easy to hide my Mormon self from my professional colleagues.  That was just like being in Scandia.  It was not hard to hide my professional role from people at church.  With those that would not understand, I simply adopted the same behaviours I used with non-members colleagues.  I didn’t want to have to do that however.  I wanted to be able to be my whole self all of the time.  When I found people with whom I could share both sides of myself, they were my best, deepest and dearest friends.  I was fortunate to always have some of these women in each ward where I lived. I am 

 

I have learned over the years to feel comfortable with both sides of myself and have learned that I can expect to have varying degrees of closeness with other people.  I find now that my best friends are usually those who understand spirituality and who are interested in exploring ideas.  For my non Mormon friends that usually means that they are religious.  It matters little to me whether other women are employed.  Neither does it matter how old someone is.  It is really valuing thoughtful mindful growth.  I care about that so much.  When that thoughtful mindful growth includes a commitment to the Saviour within the organization of the church, there is total comfort and freedom to talk about what matters most to me.  I am most able to be who I really am.  I can freely give and receive in the quest for wisdom and knowledge. 

 

Sometimes people and relationships change, prompted by personal experiences.  That has happened rarely with friends but it has happened.  It was very painful.  It can also happen with family members.  For me it is always fraught with pain, grief and anguish.  I am experiencing it now and there are times that I am overwhelmed with the loss.  What will I do without the closeness and the peace that comes with that trust?  I feel like a part of me is dying.  I am not just losing the other person as a friend and confidant, I am also losing myself and my world is narrowing and becoming smaller.  I am trying to face the fact that I will have to adopt once more the old careful behaviours that constrained me for so much of my life.  It is confusing and I do not know how to proceed.  I don’t really know how to use these behaviours with people who I love so deeply.  Perhaps because I don’t want to. The scriptures often talk about experiences that “words cannot express”.  I understand the difficulty and wish I was more able to express these feelings perhaps even to myself. 

Friday, May 28, 2010

Its May 28!







Yup! this is what we woke up to today in Edgemont. Of course just down the hill there is no snow. Please note the flowers on the Mayday and crabapple tree. Not sure if you can see the geraniums in our neighbours flowers boxes. Anne thinks Calgary is the pits. And to think that on Tuesday I got hot playing tennis! Apparently it was 40 with humidex in Ottawa on Thursday. Not sure where I'd rather be.

Monday, May 10, 2010

Memories of Primary

Yesterday at the Stake Relief Society Spring Women’s Conference the Stake Primary President gave a talk about the Articles of Faith and the importance of learning them to help children. Her words brought back wonderful memories of Primary. The first memories I have was of “release time” Primary in grade one in Cardston. I remember holding hands in pairs and walking from the school to the church. It felt like a special outing every week. Singing time was the best! The Chorister taught us “ the Golden Plates” and had the real gold plates there to show us. Of course it was just a homemade replica but I think that I really thought they were genuine. It certainly made an impact on me and I loved that song. “ Tell Me the Stories of Jesus” and “I have Two Little Hands” also made a big impact. It felt so good to be in Primary.

When we moved to Lethbridge when I was seven, we were in Third Ward and met in the 10th Ave Chapel. Primary was on Saturday morning and I would sometime ride my bike there. We lived at 1011-32nd street and I am surprised to see how far it was from the church. I remember being a “Co-Pilot” when I was seven and then being a “Top-Pilot” when I turned eight. That was before CTR’s. I can’t think of the justification of those class names. I think Sunbeams is the only name that survived from that time.

I was very conscious of preparing for baptism and remember learning about Jesus and the many miracles that he performed. I remember learning the names of his disciples and making a play dough replica of a real Jewish house. I still remember the design – how there were flat roofs where laundry was hung and where people could look down on the street. I had never had home made play dough like that and I was excited when my mother made it from a recipe that the Primary teacher had sent home. It seemed magical to watch the flour, salt and water turn into clay. Making the house was a homework assignment and it was fun watching it turn hard like a real clay house.

When we moved to Scandia in the spring of grade 3, my Primary experience was much different. We became members of the Rainier Branch and we met in Alcoma School. There were only about 30 people and I could probably name most of them still. The branch was like a big family. There were only a few young people and so I was so lucky to have a girl my own age, Merle Caldwell. She was the youngest of a big family like me and it was great to go to her house for sleepovers. Her Dad wasn’t a member but her Mom was and it felt like being at home at the Caldwells. I know now that it was likely the Spirit that I felt.

The sisters in the Relief Society were all like other mothers. They had strong testimonies and did what was right. They managed and organized everything and took care of each other and everyone else. They all had lots of responsibilities in the Branch and they never turned down callings. When people were sick we all fasted and prayed. I knew that they were special and real and could be depended on. My mother and my sister Marion were like that and for me, being a woman meant being those things – kind, responsible, dependable, and active in Relief Society. Being a member of the church was really important because other people in the community were different. They excluded us from things and my parents, especially my mother who was shy, didn’t have much to do with them.

Because we were a branch, our meetings were in a block on Sunday. We had Sacrament meeting, Sunday School and then Priesthood/Relief Society and Primary opening exercises. I remember having to wait after the Primary part of over and having fun running around the halls in the school. It was an old style school. You came in the front doors and if you were a teacher or an adult you went up the front stairs. Boys and girls had separate stair ways that went to the coatrooms and bathrooms. If you had a classroom on the boy’s side you couldn’t go down those stairs, you could only go through a door in the hallway down stairs.

I loved Primary music and spent hours practicing the new music that came out as sheet music. We were still using the old turquoise “Children’s Sing” book and the new cool music came out in sheets. Marion was the Primary President and so I got to have all the music. Songs like “I wonder when He comes again” and “When ever I hear the song of a bird” were all new ones. I was the Primary pianist when I was eleven and I remember making so many mistakes because I couldn’t play everything that they would ask for at the last minute. Janice was the pianist in Sacrament Meeting and I was the chorister from the time I was ten. I still have bad habits that I developed from teaching myself how to lead.

One of the best experiences I had in Primary was singing in Stake Conference in a Primary Chorus. We learned and sang the Light Divine. I am sure we sang something else too but I can’t remember what it was. I still love that song because it reminds me of that experience. Linda Tanner Layton’s mother Hazel Tanner was the chorister and I will never forget her. She made it so fun and spiritual. Her enthusiasm and amazingly expressive face kept my attention and held me spell bound. I loved Stake Conference because the talks were so interesting. Those were the days of two sessions – morning and afternoon that everyone went to. We would take a lunch and wait the two hours in between to attend the second session.

The last three years in Primary the boys were separate from the girls. We were called Lihomas that was short for Little Homemakers. Nine year olds were Gaynotes and our symbol was a musical note. Ten year olds were Firelights and our symbol was ….. you guessed it a fire in a fireplace. Eleven year olds were Merryhands….. and yup symbol was a pair of hands holding the New Testament. Our motto was I will bring the light of the gospel into my home by greeting the day with a song, giving joy to others and by serving gladly. In Gaynotes we learned to do cross stitch and did a sampler of the motto. In Firelights we learned to crochet and I made a lace border around a handkerchief. In Merry Hands we were supposed to learn to knit but my Mom could teach me how to cross stitch and crochet but she didn’t know how to knit. Sister Link taught me how but I didn’t learn very well and still can’t do it.

We had a bandlo to put our awards on. A bandlo was a piece of felt (turquoise in colour in this case) that was in the shape of a V that you could hang around your neck. There were requirements of things to learn and when you passed your requirements you got “stuff” to put on your bandlo. There was a pretty round glass picture for each year. There were twelve scriptures to learn each year and for each scripture you got a little rhinestone. There were other requirements that also had glass pictures and rhinestones. I, of course, did all the requirements and I still have my bandlo. I made a cute little pink felt bag for my New Testament and I still have it too.

In our Branch, our Primary lessons were taught by our mothers and of course my mother was my teacher. We never missed our lessons. She would come up to my room and sit on the end of my bed. My room was a gable room that had only enough space to have a dresser and a bed. The closet was so small that the Ella’s and Alice’s would look huge in comparison. I am really grateful for my mother being my teacher. She was shy and didn’t talk about a lot of things, especially personal things like her testimony. In fact I can never remember hearing her bear her testimony. She was not demonstrative or made a big deal out of teaching the gospel. She just lived it really. Being my teacher gave us the opportunity to have teaching moments that we were not likely to have had any other way. She taught me to pray, to use the scriptures and all of the other things about the gospel that you learn in Primary because she was my teacher. She helped me learn scriptures, the Articles of Faith and I got to answer every question. I appreciate her so much for what she did for me.

It was very much because of the experiences that I had in the branch in Rainier and later in Vauxhall that gave me a strong testimony of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. It is this testimony that I attribute all of my blessing to and the joy that life has brought to me.

This is what I found on the internet about the bandlo. I had wanted to post a picture but alas there wasn’t one. I wanted to include it so that I would have a record of it.

The bandlos of the 1960s were similar in spirit but somewhat different in design from earlier versions. Of pale green felt, they bore a more modern house near the point. Class symbols appropriate to the new names of classes were awarded at the beginning of each year. Round photographs a little smaller than an American nickle and covered with glass depicted a girl praying (earned when a girl learned to open and close a meeting using an appropriate prayer format and prayer language), a girl reading the New Testament (earned when a girl could meet requirements for locating scripture verses in the New Testament), wheat (symbolizing the Word of Wisdom) and the priesthood monument on Temple Square (representing the priesthood), after the girl met requirements related to those subjects. Plastic numbers 1-4, 5-9, and 10-13 represented memorization of the Articles of Faith. Rows of rhinestones represented attendance at Primary and memorization of scripture verses. Jewels attached to each class symbol indicated the girl had attended Primary at least 40 times during the year. Jewels glued to the windows of the house represented completion of an article of cross stitch, knitting, and crocheting. Jewels descending from the house represented memorization of the books of the New Testament; recitation of facts about the eight men who wrote the books of the New Testament; and recitation of a story in a girl’s own words about someone in the New Testament who “served gladly.” A white plastic scroll symbolized graduation from Primary.