May 10, 1869

According to Mr Bird May 10, 1869 was the best day in the history of the United States.
It was the day the the Golden spike was driven to complete the first transcontinental railroad connecting the Union Pacific Railroad and the Central Pacific Railroad.
For the first time in the history of our young nation there was one continuous rail road connecting the wild west to the rest of the county.
The two rail road companies and the rest of the country had a huge celebration and ceremony for the occasion.
For the last 59 years a cast of citizens and volunteers have recreated that ceremony.
They meet at Promontory Summit, the very place the golden spike was driven 141 years ago, and repeat word for word the things that were expressed more than a life time ago.
Lucky for Mr Bird, Promontory Summit is only about an hour from our home.
Every year since Mr Bird was a tiny kid he has gone to the ceremony.
Now he brings his own family, year after year.
It is the first day he requests off from work every January.

May 10, 2004 Promontory Summit

Although I have come to the ceremony year after year, it always has special meaning to me.
In 1869, just as the golden spike was getting ready to be driven, the rest of the country waited with baited breath for word that it was complete.
Some cities wired the telegraph to the local fire department alarm so that as soon as the signal was emitted the whole town would know and could join in the celebration.
Other towns had huge crowds of people around the telegraph waiting for the pre-assigned signal: D.O.N.E. done!

"Every telegraph in the nation was waiting with baited breath for that one word.
Both the spike and the maul are wired to the transcontinental telegraph wire so that the entire nation can hear the blows as the spike is driven. Now ladies and gentlemen, the time has arrived. As Mr. Shilling, the telegrapher, gives the signal over the wire, that the spike is driven, bells and whistles will sound across the nation."

Before the spike was driven a prayer was offered.
This is the telegraph message sent to the entire country just moments before the spike was driven:

"Bulletin! Almost ready. Hats off! Prayer is being offered."

For a moment the entire nation bowed their heads in prayer, together.
Think of the power of that prayer.
Has our nation before or since been so united and humble and prayerful.
That was an amazing moment, I can still feel the power of an entire continent united in prayer to their God.
How I long for our great nation to be as great as it was in that moment.
The rail road was more than just a highway into the west.
The work of building the railroad united a wounded country which had been badly broken and nearly divided by civil war.
Men form the North as well as the South untied their effort and worked side by side in an effort to rebuild our nation.
Men from all over the world came to help in hopes of bringing the knowledge they'd acquire to their homes across the seas and to replicate our system in their own lands.
The eyes of the whole world were upon The united States of America and this great feat of courage and strength.
Many men gave their lives in the completion of this revolutionary task.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you. We are gathered here to join the ends of the earth, to join the raw riches of the American West with the finished products of the industrial East. We also meet with mixed feelings; with joy that the work of thousands of men has joined the railroad, and with sorrow we remember the hundreds of men who gave their lives in building the railroad."


This is the heritage I want to pass on to my children.
I want them to see the examples of hard work with the blood and sweat and tears these men gave to build a nation.
I want them to see the value of coming together to build something bigger than themselves.
I want them to learn about these great men and the marvelous things they accomplished with not much more than their bare hands and wagons pulled by horses.
I want them to celebrate their personal victories, big or small.
I want them to love our nation and to stand tall in it, under their God, always giving thanks to Him.

P.S. Click here to read the reenactment in its entirety. It is truly inspirational.

The Impossible Dream

Another of my dreams is about to come true.
Remember this post about how I want to be in a parade?
Well, it turns out that this just might be my lucky year!
My brother-in-law, Brad Galvez (The Great) is the Republican nominee for The Utah House of Representatives on the November 2010 ballot.
During a dinner with the family he mentioned that as part of his campaign he planned to ride in the local parades this summer.
I about fell out of my chair.
In fact I think I jumped a foot in the air and lost control a little (or a lot) and shrieked something about the fact that I wanted to be in his float (or car or riding a horse).
Everyone looked at me like I was crazy, that's me the family crazy person.
It's OK, cuz every family has one, I'm fine with it being me.
Then I went on and on about how much I've wanted to ride in a parade.
I started to get so excited and could already smell the horse poo in the air!
Then it happened!
Brad, The Great appointed me as the head of the parade committee chair board!
I'm pretty sure he made that up just to make me feel good, let's not fool ourselves, it totally worked!
Now my mind will not stop thinking about it.
I have to come up with ideas now.
Should we do a float with sparkly banners and paper mache mountains?
Or should we go simple and commission some cool antique cars?
Then there's the equestrian route.
The Galvez's are huge horse lovers.
We could decorate the horses and carry banners and throw candy to the crowds?
It's so hard to decide.
Maybe we could do all the above, our family is big enough!
What would you do?

The World's Greatest Mom

Yup, you got it, that's me, the world's greatest mom.
At least according to Doodle.
It seems as if some days I am determined to prove to myself and everyone else how horrible of a mother I really am.
Sometimes I can be "not so nice."
Sometimes I say and do things I don't really mean.
Sometimes I am too harsh with the kids.
I expect a lot from my children and I feel like a big fat meanie...most of the time.
Yet there are moments of greatness.
Yesterday was one of those days.
By dinner time I felt I was at my rope's end.
Ethan had peed on the carpet while I had locked myself in the bathroom for a nice hot, long shower (I should have known better).
Someone plugged the toilet AGAIN, for about the 100th time this month.
It felt like I spent the day stopping arguments and ranting at the kids to clean up mess after mess after mess.
How can our house get so messy so fast? We don't have many toys.
They find whatever they can to make a mess with.
Yesterday it was a box of Tissues which they snuck upstairs. They ripped 3/4 of the box out and they were everywhere.
They made horse blankets with them, wrote notes on them, made flags and door signs and just generality ripped them to tiny shreds and spread them all over the two bedrooms.
By the time dinner was over I felt defeated and tired.
TIRED!
We quickly got dinner cleaned up and I wanted to just have no more messes in the house so I grabbed a handful of books and our novel and I started reading.
I read out loud, to the kids.
I read for over an hour and a half, all the way to bed time.
As soon as Doodle saw my pile of books and the huge green blanket and me snuggled up on the couch, her face sparkled and she ran over and gave me the biggest hug ever and said, "You're the best mom in the whole world!"
It's as simple as that.
All the shortcomings of my day were wiped clean, in her mind at least, with a pile of good books and a blanket.

My Life in Bullet Points

Beano 5 weeks old

• I am feeling very random tonight
• Thus, bullet points seem appropriate
• My beautiful niece, Bethy, had her first baby yesterday
• It was a huge mistake to go see her at the hospital
• My ovaries will not be quiet now
• It was so hard for me to leave the hospital without my very own baby
• Mr Bird just laughs at me and thinks I'm crazy
• Never in my life have I ever had the urge to nurse someone else's baby, but yesterday, all I wanted to do was nurse that perfect little being
• But that would be totally weird and gross, so I didn't
• Plus I don't have any more milk, Baby Cakes drank me dry
• That was probably TMI
• I think I just lost all my male readers, but I'm good with that. Sorry guys!
• I know plenty of people who have more than 4 kids and they have not lost it yet
• We ate peanut butter and honey covered crackers with melted chocolate on them for our FHE treat tonight
• I think I may need one more
• All of the baby stuff, like the crib and high chair and car seat, have been gone for a long time, we'd have to buy all new stuff
• I hate spending money, but I think I could manage
• I got to change my great nephew's very first poopy diaper
• And I still want another
• Mr Bird says if I agree to name the next one Doc he'll go for it
• I said OK and he totally back peddled
• I say, a deal's a deal!
• Does baby hunger ever go away? What about people who have 12 kids? Do they still get baby hungry?
• Hmmm, I wonder...
  

To Heal the Broken Hearted

When we think of our Savior what comes to mind first?
His triumph over sin, making it possible for all who sin to repent and be forgiven?
Do you think of the sacrifice He made when he died for us, was resurrected, therefor making eternal life possible for all mankind?
Do you think of the sick He healed, the sermons He gave, the miracles He performed?
Do you think of the many stories in the Bible of forgiveness he gave because of the faith of those who sought Him?
When I think of my Savior another image comes to mind.
I saw Him standing there.
In his eyes were boundless love and compassion.
In a dark room marked "The Neglected and Fatherless" I saw myself, as if I were looking into the past.
It hurt to see my own image in such an ugly place.
Hurt and anger and bitterness filled my soul to the brim.
Then I looked up, just a few small inches.
The realization that I was looking at my reflection in a mirror took my breath for just a moment.
Physically, I was not in that room, but somehow that place was a part of my soul.
My eyes wondered a few inches higher still.
My eyes met His eyes.
His hands were holding the mirror.
He was holding me, with His very hands.
His eyes pierced my very soul.
In an instant, love and warmth replaced the years of anger and hurt and bitterness.
Not a word was spoken, His eyes said it all.
In that moment He took the heart break from me.
My heart, which had been so heavy and so full, was healed.
I felt light and happy, even joyful.
I felt His love, and it made everything better.
He found me with a heart bruised and broken and torn in pieces.
With his love He took my heart and gave it back to me in perfect condition, whole and happy and new.
To my surprise, when I looked back down at the mirror in His hands, my image was gone.
I was no longer in that place.
He took me by the hand and let me out, into a life of my own.
A life full of love and laughter and music.
A life with the happiest heart I could ever imagine.
A life so full that I feel tears of joy and gratitude could burst at any moment.
A life I could never have imagined on my own.
A life bigger than myself.
A life I never felt I deserved.
Yet here I am, years later, still filled with His love and compassion.
Ashamed that it has taken me so long to tell the story of His love for me.
When Christ publicly announced His minesrty He did not announce that we would suffer for the sins of the world, although He would.
He did not announce that He would die on the cross for mankind and ultimately overcome death, although He would.

"When Jesus arrived in Nazareth, he entered the synagogue and read a prophecy about the coming Messiah which the Old Testament Prophet Isaiah had written seven hundred years earlier. Jesus announced that this prophecy was about himself." ~New Testament Seminary Student Manuel

This is the scripture he read in the synagogue, "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised."~Luke 4:18

He goes on to say, "And he closed the book, and he gave it again to the minister, and sat down. And the eyes of all them that were in the synagogue were fastened on him. And he began to say unto them, This day is this scripture fulfilled in your ears." ~Luke 4:20-21

For the first time in his mortal life He announced publicly that He was the Messiah, of whom the prophets had testified for generations would come.
And what did he say he came to do?

The first thing he says is that He was sent to heal the brokenhearted.
Heartbreaks happen every day and to every person.
No one is immune.
Everyday a family is broken by divorce, leaving parents and children broken.
Everyday unmet expectations are shattered, leaving broken dreams and hearts.
Everyday people lose loved ones to death, both old and young, leaving hearts filled with grief and despair.
Everyone has their own story of heartbreak, I am not the only one.
If there's one thing I've learned in this life through all my friendships and deep connections with people, it's this: We've all suffered heartbreaks, big and small.
The great news?
We need not suffer alone.
He has said numberless times throughout the ages in the scriptures and through his prophets, "Come unto me!"
He is waiting for us to come to Him.
He wants us to be happy beyond measure.
And His arms are outstretched still.

The Truth

Mr Hanlon.
My high school senior English teacher.
Hands down, the best English teacher on the planet.
He did not just teach us how to dot our i's and cross our t's and where to properly place our commas.
He inspired me to write.
He was one of the greats, and he in turn inspired greatness from me.
He shared with his class full of pimply teenagers his writing, his thoughts and his passions.
His writing down right touched me.
He was so eloquent and truthful with his words.
I can honestly say I don't remember the topics of his writing, but I do remember how I felt as he read them aloud to his class.
I felt like I wanted to be better.
I wanted to show him how great I could be.
Not because he demanded it, but because he saw a glimpse of that greatness in me and I believed him when he told me so, through his writings.
His class room was, let's say for sake of time, a little less than tidy.
If a student turned in a paper that he considered a great work he asked if he could keep a copy for his own personal use.
His lecture hall was filled with stacks upon stacks of papers from former students.
They were like veritable mountains, there must have been thousands of them.
Even those stacks of papers were inspiring.
I wanted so badly to write a paper that would be worthy of his stacks, to become a part of the legend and the greatness.
Then, it happened.
He handed back our latest essays and there were no red markings in the body of my paper.
I turned to the back page to see, scrawled in his infamous red ink, the words: Excellent, you're best work! May I please have a copy?
My heart nearly stopped, I had done it!
Here's where the story gets interesting.
The assignment for the essay was to go to a public place and watch someone.
Could be anywhere and anyone, or even a group of people.
Then we were to write about what we had observed in those people and places.
I never went anywhere after school.
I did not do his assignment as he told us to.
I have a million reasons why I never actually went and observed as he had asked.
My mom never left the couch, so asking her to take me somewhere, no matter the cause, seemed like a foreign thought to me.
I didn't even consider it.
I walked 3 miles home from school every day after eating little breakfast and no lunch because I was too proud to stand in the "free lunch" line.
By the time I got home I was tired, beyond tired.
I had just enough energy to make some sort of dinner and homework, then I fell into a comma of T.V. and sleep.
The thought of going somewhere extra was too much.
Instead I made up a pretend scenario in my mind.
I wrote about a fictitious trip to Toys "R" Us and seeing a little girl in the Barbie Doll isle.
I described the Pepto Bismol pink and the look of desire in the girls' eyes.
In my mind the girl was thin with stringy hair and worn and dirty clothes, obviously not very well off.
Her eyes were a little too large for her face and she held the doll for a really long time, staring at the beautiful creature inside the box.
My story ended with the girl's mother briskly coming for the girl and yanking her from the moment of bliss as, just for a moment, she held a little piece of childhood.
I described how the mother, with her tired, worn face, had not even noticed the child like look of longing in her daughter's eyes.
I wondered, in my paper, if the little girl had even ever had a Barbie, or any doll for that matter.
I don't remember how I ended the paper, but it must have been fabulous.
I do remember that the best thing I had ever written was a lie.
I wondered how that could be.
This week I realized why it was that the best thing I had ever written could have been this fake story I had made up.
I never did tell Mr. Hanlon that I cheated on his assignment.
The truth is, I may not have done the assignment just as Mr.Hanlon asked, but that story was true.
That story was about myself.
It has taken me 15 years to realize that.
There was never a moment in my childhood when I stood in Toys "R" Us staring at a Barbie Doll when my mother yanked me away.
But the feelings of that little girl were my feelings.
The description of wanting a childhood so badly, but not even being noticed, were my feelings.
Even the physical descriptions were spot on.
That is why, even 15 years later, my heart breaks just a little bit when I think of that poor, thin girl standing all alone in the Barbie Doll isle.

Priceless

Dear Doodle,
You are eight! I really can't see how that's possible when it feels like you were just born last week. What an amazing journey we've been on together. You have taught me ever so much more than I could dream of teaching you. I want to be better because of you. You really do bring out the best in me. You are always so eager to do what is right, I want to be just like you when I grow up. You make me realize, if only in some small way, how Heavenly Father loves each one of us, His children. The joy I find when reading to you, or you reading to me, or catching you being kind to your brothers when you don't even know I'm watching is priceless. I would not trade it for anything in all the world. I love being your mom, even when it's hard and I seem grumpy, I still love you and would do anything I possibly could to make this life better for you. Your baptism day was so beautiful. You looked just like an angel. You have such a sweet spirit, I just can't help but be so full of joy when I think about that day. You are such a great example to everyone around you. I love you, girl! Happy Birthday!
Love, Mom