It's All How You Look At It

Newport Beach, California: 1961:

During my sixth grade year at Horace Ensign Junior High, I went through a really awkward stage. I played kickball, softball, volleyball, and basketball, but with each sport, I could not hit the ball! I was so uncoordinated!

I also felt ugly. I had braces to straighten my teeth and had to wear a head gear each night. Thus, there was no ability to sleep with rollers in my hair. [This was before electric curlers or curling irons]. The result? My hair hung like a limp rag.

For class I sat at the right side of the room on the front row. Even though I was in the front, I could not read the blackboard. I thought the glare from the sun on the board prevented me from seeing what was written on it.

The school nurse called me into her office for her annual vision screening. She asked me to read the eye chart. The only thing I could find was the big "E," and IT was blurry. The nurse was so surprised. She asked why I wasn't wearing glasses. I didn't know I needed glasses!

I thought everyone saw the way I saw things. For instance, I didn't think people could recognize faces in a crowd. I couldn't, so I had adopted a system to recognize people. When I wanted to find my mother in a crowd, I'd look for the color she was wearing.

When I was told I needed glasses, I was devastated. Here I was already ugly, and now with glasses I would be even uglier. I went home and cried. My mom took me to the eye doctor and I ordered a pair of glasses tailored to my vision. The day after my glasses arrived, I went to school, sat at my desk, put my glasses on, and voila! I could read the chalkboard, even with the sun shining on it. It didn't help my image, though. I would not be the beauty queen. On the plus side, however, I could finally see all that I had been missing. Some things are more important.

It wasn't until years later when I was writing my "life story" that it dawned on me that the reason I was so uncoordinated at that time was because I could not SEE the ball to hit it! Wish I'd figured that out at the time. I would have felt somewhat better about myself.

As with needing glasses, sometimes we don't know when we're missing something in our life. Maybe it's something that will help us see our own lives more clearly. We can adapt to help us see better, but it may not do what a pair of glasses will do for us. Sometimes, even when it doesn't help our image, we need to stop and put on the glasses in order to see clearly.

Happy Birthday Amy!

Seaside, California, 20 November 1973:

I can still remember this day so well. I was expecting our new baby on November 1, 1973. Back then, we had no idea what sex the baby would be, but we only had one name picked out, a girl's name. The waiting game had begun.

Around November 5, my mother phoned me. She'd had a dream that I had given birth and the baby was born with two teeth! Mom was VERY surprised to find me at home, when, according to her, I should have been at the hospital. Obviously, I hadn't had the baby yet.

We waited . . . and waited some more. Over the next couple of weeks, I had a couple of small contractions, but nothing happened.

THREE WEEKS LATER! My labor started early on Tuesday morning, November 20. About 6:00 AM we dropped Tim off at Brenda Kent's home and then checked in at Monterey Community Hospital. Amy Lynn Werle was born at 10:00 AM. She was perfect in every way - even had a full head of black hair! That was a surprise. What a doll!

I can remember when the doctor put Amy in my arms - I'd found heaven. She was and still is heaven to me. I'm glad I got picked to be her mother. THAT is a great blessing. Happy Birthday, Amy!

Tofu Quiche

San Jose, California, about 1986:

I loved to watch cooking shows on the television: Yan Can Cook, Laurels' Kitchen, etc. I was so impressed with the healthy recipes on Laurel's Kitchen that I purchased her cookbook and set to work recreating these dishes for my family. Laurel was big into tofu. Back then, I could not purchase tofu in the grocery store, but had to go to the Chinatown part of the city to get it. Also, it was not as tasty as the tofu we have today.

I decided to make a Tofu Quiche from Laurel's book. Excitedly, I followed the recipe with precision. It was going to be great. Bear in mind, we'd never eaten quiche before, but we were willing to give it a try.

When the quiche was done, I pulled it from the oven, called the family to dinner, and we sat down at the table to eat. Tom was going to be late, so we started without him.

I served up a slice to each family member, we said a prayer, and plunged into our pie. It was TERRIBLE! YUCK! It was so bad, I couldn't eat it. If I wasn't willing to eat it, I couldn't make my family do it.

I decided we needed to forget the quiche. We left it on the table, and piled into the car and went to McDonalds for dinner. THAT was much tastier.

Tom returned from home, spotted the quiche, and dug in. He LOVED it! I couldn't believe it. It just goes to show, one man's cottage may be another man's castle.

Tim Lost in Salinas

Marina, California, 1976:

When Tim was 4, and Amy 2, I was the ward Primary President. As part of my duties, I was also Chairman of the Cub Scout Pack Committee. In preparation for a pack meeting, I needed to drive to Salinas (about 10 miles east) to purchase cub scout achievement awards.

We had other errands to run while in Salinas, so Tom and I piled the kids in the back seat of our tiny Honda Civic (hatchback). We drove to the scout office. Tim wanted to stay in the car and sleep, but he wanted us to wake him up when we got to the grocery store. We consented, so he climbed into the hatchback part and stretched out pulling a blanket over his head. This was in the day (I know, so hard to believe we were in the dark ages with no seat belts, and no child safety seats!)

Tom, Amy, and I went into the scout office. purchased the awards, and went back to the car. Amy climbed in the back seat.

Tom and I got in the front seats and, as we began to drive away, Amy was very distressed. She said, "Where's Timmy?" I said, "He's in the back under the blanket. Don't bother him. He wants to sleep."

Amy was still distressed, "But I can't see him."

I soothed, "Don't worry, Amy. He's under the blanket.

Her tiny two-year old voice again said, "But I can't see him."

Tom and I figured we knew more than Amy, so we drove to the post office and then to the grocery store.

When we arrived at the store, Tom opened the hatchback, lifted the blanket, and . . . said, "He's not here!"

Amy was right! She knew her brother was missing. We wished we had listened to her!

We rushed back to the scout office and ran inside. He wasn't there! We scanned the neighborhood. There was a Masonic hall across the street with a "C" on the building. I looked at the glass front doors and spotted Tim standing inside holding a police officer's hand!

I walked up the steps opened the door and hugged Tim and explained that we thought Tim was asleep in the back of the car. The officer looked at our tiny Honda Civic and said skeptically, "You thought he was asleep in the back of the car." I said, "Yes!" Then, I took Tim by the hand and hurried out of the building, hoping I wasn't going to be arrested for child endangerment!

In explanation, Tim told us he'd thought the "C" meant cub scouts and he went looking for us there. He had walked in on a ladies luncheon. They were sure they had an abandoned child on their hands, so they called the police.

The moral to the story: Listen when your children they tell you something is wrong. They may be right!

Finding Sarah - A Needle in the Haystack

Beaverton, Oregon, about 1988:

We had gone as a family to the Air Show at Hillsboro. About 40,000 other people were also there. It was very crowded, but we wanted to see the airplanes, so we started exploring. We had no cell phones, no emergency plan of where to meet if we got separated.

As we were walking past the planes, one caught our attention and we stopped to look at it. Sarah, about age 9, didn't notice we had stopped, so she kept walking.

By the time we finished looking at the plane, we looked up and noticed Sarah was not there! Alarms went off in my head! Where was she??? Was she ahead of us or behind us? Where could we look? It was a mass of people and she was so small!

Tom and I split up. He went back the way we had come and I ran ahead looking for her. My heart was racing, the adrenaline pumping as I scanned the crowd in every direction. What if someone took her? No one in the crowd would know! I said a very earnest prayer. If anyone needed help from God, I did.

Shortly after my prayer, I spotted Sarah. What relief! I was overcome by waves of emotion. Sarah was upset at being lost. I had been scared, too.

Thankfully, this story has a happy ending. God had answered my prayer.

Moral to the story: Any time you go somewhere as a family, plan a meeting place in case you get split up. . . . or arm them with cell phones! Above all, God hears and answers our earnest prayers.

The Case of The Flying Eraser

Marina, California, about 1979:

Tom was working at the fire station and I had put the kids to bed. It wasn't long before Tim came out claiming Billy was crying because there was an eraser in his nose. Huh? An eraser, you know, the kind on the end of a pencil if you break if off the pencil.

So, what's an eraser doing in Billy's nose? Tim said he threw it in the air and it LANDED in Billy's nose. Right. Right. Tim threw it in the air. Right . . . It was time to deal with the problem rather than troubleshoot how it happened.

I checked out Billy. Yep. There WAS an eraser in his nose. Now I had the challenge of getting it out. Should be simple enough. I tried to get Billy to sneeze. Didn't work. I got a pair of tweezers and started poking . . . Ooops . . . I shoved it higher. Now what? Not much I could do about it that night. I'd have to deal with it first thing in the morning. I sent everybody to bed, again, and hoped Billy could sleep with this thing in his nose.

The next day I took Billy to our pediatrician. He tried to extricate the eraser, but failed. The doctor sent me to an Ear, Nose, and Throat doc. We went straight there. The nose doc assessed the problem, and called in reinforcements. They put Billy in my lap, and then two other nurses and I held him tight the doctor worked to free the eraser, or was it to free Billy? Whatever it was, it was NO PICNIC. In fact, it was VERY traumatic for everyone. It was a struggle, but the doctor won.

Billy survived. We survived. The moral to the story: Don't try to retrieve objects from your child's nose without expert help. The other moral: Sometimes it's more important to deal with the problem rather than try to get the truth out of the culprit.

$100 Blessings

Marina, California, February 1977:

Our bishop explained that the ward was behind in paying its' assessment for the prior year and asked for each couple to attend a ward dinner and contribute $100. Tom and I didn't have the money. We needed the $100 to make our house payment, but decided to exercise our faith and contribute as requested by the bishop.

We went to the dinner and paid our $100. The very next day our income tax refund arrived in the mail with more than enough money for our house payment.

Sometimes we just have to trust the Lord. He will help us as we do the things he's asks us to do.