For Ethan this year (and our own family), I made Advent CD's of Mormon Messages. They are short, inspirational videos that the church produces. Tonight, the girls and I watched the video for December 1: "In The Spirit of Thanksgiving". (If you are interested in watching it too, here's the link:
In the Spirit of Thanksgiving
At the end of the video, the question is asked, "What are you thankful for?"
I thought of something unusual, but for which I am extremely grateful.
John and I have spent our married lives traveling. Our first big trip started on our honeymoon to Crested Butte, Colorado, and for our first anniversary (when I was seven months pregnant), we headed to Arches National Park in Moab, Utah. When we have a free moment, and the money, we head out to see new places, and I'm not sure we'll see them all before our lives are over!
While in Europe, we traveled to a different country almost every month. When we would fly, the cheapest flights were always on Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday, which meant that our week-long trip would extend over a weekend, beginning on one of those days and ending a week later on one of those days. This meant that we frequently spent our Sundays in a foreign country.
I'm thankful that despite the fact the we were traveling and exciting adventures beckoned to us, we always kept the Sabbath holy. We found a congregation in the area and attended our meetings, just as we would have back home. The rest of the day was spent playing games in our rental home, or going on long walks, exploring our new area at a leisurely, peaceful pace. There was no swimming in the hotel pool, or riding amusement park rides, or doing anything that we wouldn't do otherwise.
As a consequence, there has never been a question in the minds of our children about the Sabbath. They have always understood that it is a special day, no matter the location, and there are no exceptions.
So after thinking about this, I was reminded of several funny experiences we had, trying to find the churches in unfamiliar cities and being instantly invited to become members of the smallest of branches. So as a sidenote to these thoughts on gratitude, here are a few memories:
Our most recent Sabbath adventure was in Cancun, Mexico. It must have taken us 45 minutes to find a chapel that should have been 10 minutes away. If it hadn't been for spotting a pair of missionaries walking to the chapel, we might still be looking for it. Even when the missionaries pointed it out, we could hardly believe it--the property was completely surrounded with a 10-foot high fence!
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We were once in the south of Ireland, and the closest congregation was about 30 miles away (I can't remember the name of the village anymore). Turns out, the congregation met in the ballroom of a hotel. There were maybe 20 people there, and no pianist, but there WAS a small keyboard sitting on a table.
I'm not sure what the deal is, but I think I must have glowing letters that appear on my forehead when I walk into a foreign ward or branch saying "Yes, I play the piano", because I am, without exception, asked if I play the piano.
I walked up to the small keyboard and busted out some pretty raucous hymn. People commented after that they had never heard the congregation sing so loudly.
John was also asked to speak in that meeting. Five minutes before it started. He did a great job.
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Another time when we were visiting in Northern Ireland, we were begged to move there. Don't I wish!
**********
The craziest moment was when I played for a branch in Trier, Germany. No problem, I thought. I understand German so I knew when to start playing, and the organ was basic. What I didn't know is that there are specific hymns for specific countries and specific languages that don't appear in the English hymnbook. Imagine my surprise when I turned to a sacrament hymn, realized I didn't know it, and had to instantly sight-read the introduction and four verses of the hymn. Man, I was thankful for all the sight-reading instruction I had received through the years (hear that kids? sight-reading is a GOOD thing!)
**********
My funniest memory of being asked to play the piano happened in Spain. Again, I don't remember the exact location, but the building was big enough to have an actual chapel. I flipped through the numbers on the board and could tell what the hymns were by the music itself--nothing unexpected, and I knew I'd be fine, even on an unfamiliar organ.
We like to travel on the off-season most times which meant October and March back in the day. In October, we usually headed back to the States to see my grandparents in Florida. I can't tell you the number of times my children ended up singing in Primary Sacrament Meeting Programs, and they stole the show every time. The funniest time was when all the kids had the actual music copied for them to read while singing, but my kids respectfully chose to hold it at their sides--their exceptional Primary music leader had expected them, and taught them, to sing from memory. Now who could that have been? :-)
**********
I'm sure there are some other experiences, especially from the kids who attended Primaries in languages that they couldn't understand, but those will have to wait for another time. In the meantime, I'm thankful to see that in their minds, Sundays are the Sabbath and nothing else. They get out of bed in the morning, and get ready for church. What a blessing in all of our lives.
In the Spirit of Thanksgiving
At the end of the video, the question is asked, "What are you thankful for?"
I thought of something unusual, but for which I am extremely grateful.
John and I have spent our married lives traveling. Our first big trip started on our honeymoon to Crested Butte, Colorado, and for our first anniversary (when I was seven months pregnant), we headed to Arches National Park in Moab, Utah. When we have a free moment, and the money, we head out to see new places, and I'm not sure we'll see them all before our lives are over!
While in Europe, we traveled to a different country almost every month. When we would fly, the cheapest flights were always on Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday, which meant that our week-long trip would extend over a weekend, beginning on one of those days and ending a week later on one of those days. This meant that we frequently spent our Sundays in a foreign country.
I'm thankful that despite the fact the we were traveling and exciting adventures beckoned to us, we always kept the Sabbath holy. We found a congregation in the area and attended our meetings, just as we would have back home. The rest of the day was spent playing games in our rental home, or going on long walks, exploring our new area at a leisurely, peaceful pace. There was no swimming in the hotel pool, or riding amusement park rides, or doing anything that we wouldn't do otherwise.
As a consequence, there has never been a question in the minds of our children about the Sabbath. They have always understood that it is a special day, no matter the location, and there are no exceptions.
So after thinking about this, I was reminded of several funny experiences we had, trying to find the churches in unfamiliar cities and being instantly invited to become members of the smallest of branches. So as a sidenote to these thoughts on gratitude, here are a few memories:
Our most recent Sabbath adventure was in Cancun, Mexico. It must have taken us 45 minutes to find a chapel that should have been 10 minutes away. If it hadn't been for spotting a pair of missionaries walking to the chapel, we might still be looking for it. Even when the missionaries pointed it out, we could hardly believe it--the property was completely surrounded with a 10-foot high fence!
 |
| The parking lot (notice the "gate") |
 |
| The actual building (creeper alert...) |
**********
We were once in the south of Ireland, and the closest congregation was about 30 miles away (I can't remember the name of the village anymore). Turns out, the congregation met in the ballroom of a hotel. There were maybe 20 people there, and no pianist, but there WAS a small keyboard sitting on a table.
I'm not sure what the deal is, but I think I must have glowing letters that appear on my forehead when I walk into a foreign ward or branch saying "Yes, I play the piano", because I am, without exception, asked if I play the piano.
I walked up to the small keyboard and busted out some pretty raucous hymn. People commented after that they had never heard the congregation sing so loudly.
John was also asked to speak in that meeting. Five minutes before it started. He did a great job.
**********
Another time when we were visiting in Northern Ireland, we were begged to move there. Don't I wish!
**********
The craziest moment was when I played for a branch in Trier, Germany. No problem, I thought. I understand German so I knew when to start playing, and the organ was basic. What I didn't know is that there are specific hymns for specific countries and specific languages that don't appear in the English hymnbook. Imagine my surprise when I turned to a sacrament hymn, realized I didn't know it, and had to instantly sight-read the introduction and four verses of the hymn. Man, I was thankful for all the sight-reading instruction I had received through the years (hear that kids? sight-reading is a GOOD thing!)
**********
My funniest memory of being asked to play the piano happened in Spain. Again, I don't remember the exact location, but the building was big enough to have an actual chapel. I flipped through the numbers on the board and could tell what the hymns were by the music itself--nothing unexpected, and I knew I'd be fine, even on an unfamiliar organ.
What I didn't realize is that I wouldn't be able to understand the person conducting the meeting (being a non-Spanish speaker myself), and I wouldn't know when to play the hymns. Of course, when I realized my predicament and looked backwards to John in the congregation, he was out of earshot, but just smiling proudly at me.
All I could do was wait for a long pause, and for the man who was making the announcements to sit down. When nothing happened, I figured I was "on" and started playing. Thankfully, I had been to enough churches, and been organist enough times, that I realized that the rhythm of the meeting is the same. I was still very nervous for the rest of the meeting, hoping that I was beginning to play at the appropriate moment. Can you imagine if there had been a baby blessing, or a confirmation and people were slowly getting up to come to the front of the chapel.. and BAM! CALLED TO SERVE with all stops open! Now that would have been embarrassing!
**********
**********
We like to travel on the off-season most times which meant October and March back in the day. In October, we usually headed back to the States to see my grandparents in Florida. I can't tell you the number of times my children ended up singing in Primary Sacrament Meeting Programs, and they stole the show every time. The funniest time was when all the kids had the actual music copied for them to read while singing, but my kids respectfully chose to hold it at their sides--their exceptional Primary music leader had expected them, and taught them, to sing from memory. Now who could that have been? :-)
**********
I'm sure there are some other experiences, especially from the kids who attended Primaries in languages that they couldn't understand, but those will have to wait for another time. In the meantime, I'm thankful to see that in their minds, Sundays are the Sabbath and nothing else. They get out of bed in the morning, and get ready for church. What a blessing in all of our lives.
What great memories! I'm trying to think of some good comment to make here, but all I can think is "I LOVE the Kennedy's!"
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