Little Girl Grown Up

Twenty eight years ago a baby girl was born into our family in the wee hours of a cold December night. Since then our lives have been blessed as this beautiful little girl has grown into an amazing woman. She has a gift of seeing the world in a unique way that is often surprising and sometimes very funny. Her poetry and writing reflect her ability to make the mundane magical. Her "Robynisms" are legendary. She has the gift of music with a gorgeous voice that even as a child was sweet and clear. She has the ability to understand children and knows how to encourage them to have the courage to be their best. She's an awesome teacher, loyal friend, loving companion to a terrific husband, caring granddaughter, supportive sister, quirky, funny, fabulous and smart. Best of all, she's my daughter and I love her with all my heart. Happy Birthday!

A Challenge

I have a really good excuse for not updating my blog lately. Two weeks ago I had repair surgery performed on my right shoulder which resulted in having my right arm in a sling/brace. The shoulder is healing nicely but it is rather a challenge to do everyday activities with just my left hand. I have to keep my arm in the sling 24/7 for about two more weeks. I am counting the days. But in the meantime these are the things I have learned. First, I have an amazing and compassionate husband who has been a lifesaver. I simply would have to be a blob on the couch if it werent for his help. I have learned that you need two hands to cut your meat. Hence I've been suriving on finger food and salads unless my husband cuts my meat for me. He says it reminds him of times he cut the meat for our children. Typing on the computer with my left hand is slow and although I'm getting faster it takes a lot of concentration. For a mental exercise you might try it. Buttons are for two handed people. Pants with elastic waistbands are my friend. Putting on socks with one hand...doable but try tube socks...getting the heels in the right place is a neat trick. Eating left handed, since I'm right handed has helped me with my weight loss program. I just get too tired chasing bits of food around my plate. I gave up trying to style my hair and got it cut short in a do I only have to fluff and go. I tried using the curling iron with only my left hand and gave it up as being dangerous. Putting in contacts one handed. Maybe for some of you this is no challenge but for me each morning is an exercise in how long I can keep one eye open and hopfully smush the contact in my eye before I blink. I'm not complaining. I'm finding this a unique opportunity to see how ingenious I can be at performing tasks that pre-surgery were no brainers but now take a great deal of mental effort to accomplish. I'm grateful that I do have two working limbs that I will in a few weeks be able to use in tandem. It has been an eye opening experience. You might like to try this, maybe for a short time. I'd love to hear what you discover, too.

Yosemite

Only a two hour drive from our home lies the majestic Yosemite Valley of California, a land of contrasts where granite crags thrust up from the serenity of the meadowed valley floor and gold-hued leaves of oak trees rustle in the breeze that also passes through stands of pines.

John Muir, noted naturalist and pioneer environmentalist explored Yosemite through it's various seasons. A poet in his own right, he wrote: "Nowhere will you see the majestic operations of Nature more clearly revealed beside the frailest, most gentle and peaceful things. Nearly all the park is a profound solitude. Yet it is full of charming company, full of God's thoughts, a place of peace and safety amid the most exalted grandeur and eager enthusiastic action, a new song, a place of beginnings abounding in first lessons of life..."


This week we took a day to visit this place of beginnings. Everywhere were grand vistas that were testaments to the ingenuity of God in creating this earth. I could only feel enveloped by the wondrous richness of this forested cathedral and humbled by the awesome power of cascading waterfalls over towering granite walls. It was good to put aside the mundane cares of daily life, as noble as they might be, and gather strength from this grand place and remember that this world was meant to be enjoyed, cherished and revered as a magnificent creation of God.

Into the Woods...and out of the Woods

My husband and a good friend just left for an off road High Sierra adventure. They packed their wilderness gear into a Toyota Land Cruiser outfitted with behemoth tires, a removable windshield, and canvas top...no windows... (why do you need to remove a windshield offroad)? They waved goodbye wearing ear-to-ear grins with hopes of catching numerous trout in Coyote Lake near the 9000 ft. elevation. The last mile is offroad and takes nearly an hour to traverse in the vehicle. You can walk it faster, so we're told. And the point is????

For the male of the species I suspect there is a gnawing need to be "The Hunter" that in day to day life is supressed. But from time to time that need surfaces and is manifest in a "hunt" of one sort or another. For some men, watching 22 men "hunt" an air inflated pigskin on a measured field fills the bill. For others, crouching in a reedy marsh, repeatedly blowing on an irritatingly brash imitation of a duck call and watching wooden decoys bob in the still water quenches the need. Some even may be able to meet this Mother-nature instilled craving by sitting in front of a computer screen blasting to bits C-G monsters all in the comforts of their own home.

My husband and friend apparently prefer the real deal. Nevermind these hunters have the latest technology with them, walkie talkies, GPS, iPhones, and the all-terrain vehicle that could climb Anapurna. Those inborn tendencies to face the foe and conquer the world are what drive the outfitters like REI and Cabelas to take advantage of the cross purposes of males needing to be basic hunters but to do so in comfort.

If you have never been to one of these outfitter's emporiums, you must go. It is an education in the social needs of the male animal. Big stuffed dead animals decorate the walls signifying that you, too, can be the champion of hunters. Tools with which to accomplish these goals fill cases and line locked cabinets. Gear for conquering almost any conceivable environmental condition is displayed (with pricetags neatly concealed). It is almost too much for the mortal mind to absorb.

I don't begrudge the male of the species their outings of manlihood. Being a female, I just don't get it. I'm happy to enjoy creatures of great size from afar, maybe shooting them...but with a camera. I'm happy to wear my comfy sweats nestled in a chair by the side of a river, reading a book, waving at my fly fishing husband from time to time as he lifts his latest catch from the streambed and cheer as he releases it. I'm happy to watch flights of geese lift from glass-like waters to form noisy V's as they wing their way south. To see a beautiful rainbow trout dart out from underneath a mossy rock, sip at a delicate winged insect then with a splash return to it's rocky abode is excitement enough for me.

When the mountains call once again, as I know they will, my husband will be ready with boots, flyrod, and backpack. And I will, with a smile, give him a kiss, wave goodbye as I did this morning, and await his return with stories of high adventure and of the hunt.

A Berry Good Tradition

In Washington State, August is blackberry month. The lanes and hillsides are thick with lush, green bushes heavy with dark, juicy blackberries. For many years the Wrights have trekked to Grandpa and Grandma's house near Bremerton, Washington to visit. Each visit always included picking blackberries. Almost as soon as we would arrive we would find a pail or bucket and head up the lane. The berries arched over a wide ditch that was always running water which irrigated the bushes and made for an abundance of the intensely flavored berries. Reaching across the ditch to pick the most delectable berries was risky. Most of us would only venture far enough to keep our balance and still be able to pick berries by the handful but an occasional tumble into the muddy ditch was inevitable. Some years berries hung in dark clusters from branches bent under the weight of hundreds of berries. Other years, when rain was not as plentiful, thorny branches stuck out over the fields as if grasping for nourishment and berries were small and fewer. But there were always more than enough berries for all. We would ooh and ahh over the crop. The most delicious were immediately popped into our mouths. Soon lips and fingers were stained with the sweetest juice and fingers became sore from being pricked over and over by thorns. But in no time the picking pails brimmed with berries destined to be made into pies, cobblers, and of course, jam and jelly. In years past, Grandma Louise Wright would don her worn, cotton apron (the one she didn't mind getting jelly stains on) and set to work washing berries and jars in preparation for making what we knew to be the best blackberry jelly and jam on earth. The berry pails were emptied into a colander, berries washed and picked over, then placed in a large kettle to crush. Removing seeds was optional but, to my taste, an important step. An old conical strainer with a mortar for pushing the berry juice and pulp through prepared the berries for jamming. We carefully mixed sugar, pectin, lemon juice and berries then heated the glossy mix until it bubbled and sputtered as it transformed into jam, filling the kitchen with the heavenly scent of sweet blackberries. The hot jam was then carefully ladled into clean jars, sealed, and labled with the year. The bits of jam left in the pot were quickly smeared onto pieces of bread and we savored every bite.

This week when we visited Grandpa Wright, it was only fitting that we pick blackberries and make jam. We missed having Grandma Louise there but as we picked, stirred, cooked and ladled blackberry jam I felt she would have been happy to know that her kitchen was still a place of sweet joy and happiness and that those memories of her, and the blackberry jam she made with us are preserved forever.

Catching my breath

It's been five weeks since I have posted. Five very busy weeks filled with great things. We took a trip back to Utah 4th of July week and spent time with the Utah clan doing some home repairs in their various locations, taking time out for a trip to the zoo with grandchildren, getting to know little baby Ella, celebrating 4th of July Utah style, taking in a performance of "Singin' in the Rain" that Kenneth had the lead in, congratulated Sarah and Teanca on their July birthdays, enjoyed seeing Teanca in "Oliver!", took a day in the mountains at Huntington Lake for a break from the heat, spent innumerable hours preparing for our community theater production of "Beauty and the Beast", enjoyed a surprise visit from Ann and the kids when they came to see the show, spent five days playing with Robyn and Megan when they drove out for a visit, celebrated the big "60" birthday with loving attention from my family and some beautiful yellow roses from my adorable husband, attending and coordinating the performances of "Beauty and the Beast" last week and this week...and whew...here I am and it's August. And this afternoon I finally took a nap. Now that I've caught my breath, I'm ready to see what next month holds.

Grandchildren are a Precious Gift

We are so blessed to be the grandparents of five amazing grandchildren. Our newest addition, Ella Jane made her appearance just a few days ago. We can't wait to meet her next week. Her older sister and brother are two very lively, creative bundles of energy who melt my heart when they wrap their little arms around my neck. I have to think back over a decade when our oldest granddaughter was that age. She just recently starred in a play alongside her brother, served as Student Body President, graduated from 8th grade and just got the lead in a summer production of Oliver! I still love getting the hugs even if her arms are a little longer and she's almost as tall as I am. Her brother is also amazing, talented, and gifted in so many ways. Sharing his enthusiasm for life makes my life rich.

I cherish the name "Grandma" and enjoy every moment we are able to share with these five terrific kids. What a precious gift they are.

Worth a Thousand Words

I know you've been waiting to see more pitctures from our trip to Europe. Here's just a taste of the marvelous things we experienced. I'm having trouble with the formatting, but here are some pictures anyway!

Castellina in Chianti, Tuscany

Roman Colosseum
Plaza Navonna, Rome

Fountain at St. Peter's Square, Vatican

Pantheon, Rome

Colosseum, Rome

Lauterbrunnen, Switzerland

Lugano, Switzerland (Lake Lugano in background)

A view of the hills of Tuscany from a 13th century fortress.

What a Wonderful World

We have just spent a marvelous eighteen days touring Rome, Florence, Tuscany and the Alps of Switzerland. These are some of the things I loved:

Stopping in at a little shop to buy fresh bread and cheese for lunch.

Wandering down the narrow side streets of Rome and coming upon a plaza filled with flowers, sketching artists and PASTA!

Meeting fellow travelers, laughing over our novice attempts at the Italian language.

Hiking through brilliant green meadows with our eyes on the startling white peaks beyond the Lauterbrunnen valley in Switzerland.

Chocolate...chocolate...chocolate!

Exploring medieval hill cities in Tuscany.

Watching the sun set over the sloping vineyards in Castellina in Chianti.

Riding a gondola to the top of the Schilthorn...a mountain over 10,000 ft to look down on the little alpine towns below.

Hiking through the Roman Forum knowing that hundreds of years earlier citizens walked those same roads.

Marveling at the intricacies of ancient tilework, weaving shades of red, green and cream marble into spectacular pieces of art.

Michaelangelo's "David". Enough said.

Eating dinner late at night in a sidewalk cafe in Rome, watching couples go by on scooters or strolling arms wrapped around each other along the narrow streets. Ah. Amore!

Sharing these experiences with good friends and their little 3 1/2 year old daughter whose favorite thing was to chase the pigeons in the plazas of Rome.

Waking up to the bells ringing at St. Peter's Square.

Feeling history, not just imagining it.

"All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go..."

"and I'm leavin' on a jet plane..." as Peter, Paul and Mary sang. It's been quite a journey already in getting ready for this monumental trip to Italy and Switzerland. I have been determined to pack light since way too many times as I've traveled I have found myself lugging heavy bags full of unworn clothing and unused items. Thanks to you fellow travelers who shared your wisdom 'o packing with me. We each are taking one carry on bag and that is IT! Well, I do have to admit I'm also bringing a rather large "purse" and can't do without Rick Steves' Best of Europe guide. Planning this trip has taken many hours of sorting through all the fabulous possiblities of places to visit and then paring the list down to the ones we want to see most. I want to see and experience "Erything!" As those who love to travel already know, the planning is almost as much fun as the journey itself. I say "almost". And the reality of the journey will begin in just a couple of days. In talking with friends and family about the trip and hearing about their experiences I am excited to try out a new country and see for myself the art, culture, food and ambiance of Italy and Switzerland. Along the way I'll try to post to keep in touch and share this amazing experience with you. Til the next post, Ciao!

Take It or Leave It

I am in a quandary. In two weeks we leave for our dream Italy/Switzerland trip and I am determined to only take one carry-on sized suitcase for the 18 day trip. Rick Steves, the guru of travel-saavy recommends that you pack light so you don't have to lug ninety-pound suitcases from aircraft to train to hotel and back. Sure, sounds great and very practical. He even posts suggestions on his website as to what to pack. But, then, he doesn't mind wearing the same khaki pants and shirts for days on end. I'm still calculating how much monotony I can tolerate in my wardrobe. Maybe since I'll be busy touring the amazing parts of Rome and the Italian countryside I won't care what I wear. I mean how often will I look at myself when I'm looking at Michaelangelo artwork and daVinci paintings. I'd love to have some input from you who have bravely traveled the world. What's important to take? What's not? What do I take and what do I leave behind? All suggestions gladly accepted!

Dream Vacation

For years I have dreamed of visiting Italy. Next month my dream will come true. For two weeks we will bask in the Italian culture, taking in the sights in Rome for a few days before heading off to our villa near Siena, then on to Florence, Pisa, and points in Northern Italy (with a few added days in Switzerland, we hope.) Half the fun of a trip like this is being an armchair tourist as I study the culture, history and historic sights of Italy. I'm one who gets as much pleasure out of planning a trip as I do in the actual traveling. But I can hardly wait to actually stand on the site of the Colosseum of Rome, explore the Vatican Museum, enter the Sistine Chapel and get a neck-ache from looking up at the spectacular ceiling, walk the Spanish Steps, climb the leaning tower in Pisa and then actually see magnificent Michaelangelo's David in person. Too much to see, so little time. In between I plan on lunching on fresh baked bread, local cheese and olives and a little (or a lot) of gelato just to round out the cuisine. I want to experience the Italian culture, to (probably very brokenly) speak their language, get happily lost in some small Tuscan town, and return home having a greater knowledge of the world. I have only been to Germany once, and for my husband this will be his first trip to Europe. I know that armchair travel cannot compare with the real thing and I am so grateful for the opportunity to finally fulfill this dream of a lifetime.

Yosemite Valley

Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves. John Muir

Yesterday was a crisp, Spring day like the ones you hope for when you visit to Yosemite Valley. I was wondering if the falls would be running and if there would be climbers on the sheer granite walls of El Capitan. Yosemite is only two hours from our home so we periodically set aside a day to visit this place of grandeur. In a way it is a sort of pilgrimage that envigorates my soul. Every time we emerge from the tunnel leading to the valley, that classic panoramic overview simply takes my breath away. I then can't wait to see the ethereal cascade of Bridal Veil Falls on the way in or hear the sub-woofer-like rumble of tons of water thundering over Yosemite Falls. Yesterday the park was more serene than in summer. There were only a few visitors and we drank in the precious silence as we walked along the Merced River that runs the length of the valley floor. We met a hiker from New York. He was in awe of the stone cliffs that line the valley. He craned his neck upwards to view the snow-dusted granite faces and said, "In New York you look up just like here, but this, this is something else!" I agree...this is something else. You just have to see it to believe it.

Create

"The desire to create is one of the deepest yearnings of the human soul." President Uchtdorf spoke of this at the last conference in October. A friend sent me a link to a video clip that truly touched and inspired me. (see it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RhLlnq5yY7k&feature=channel_page ) One part of the video really hit home. "You might say, 'I'm not the creative type'....If that is how you feel, think again....Don't let the voice of critics paralyze you--whether that voice comes from the outside or the inside."
How often have I thought of creating something and have yielded to my own voice telling me I don't have the skill or talent to do it. How often have I admired the works of others and have said "I could never do that" without even trying.
I am learning that creations don't have to be perfect. The process of creating something of beauty can bring satisfaction and joy without even resulting in a finished product. In doing this, President Uchtdorf says "you improve not only the world around you but also the world within you."
And so I issue a challenge. Take a moment and create...something. Start small. Build from there. You'll be fulfilling one of the most essential parts of your own soul. Try it out. I'd love to hear how it feels when you create.

The Mountains Are Calling Me

Here it is only March 1 and already the mountains are calling to me. Just this week after a rainstorm, the clouds cleared away and to the east a panorama of the Sierra Nevada appeared out of the often clouded skyline. I tried to catch glimpses of these beautiful mountains while I drove hurriedly on errands. Seeing each new vista was like drawing fresh breath from an open window. Envigorating and renewing. I am drawn to the mountains. My heart yearns with a real ache to go "home" where there are grand peaks, gracious meadows woven with crystal streams and quiet hidden granite canyons. There I feel peace and a sense of residence as if my soul simply belongs there. Over the years I and my family have been able to spend many wonderful days in the mountains. Good times filled with simple pursuits. Reconnecting with one another and fortifying the bonds of love that sometimes become frayed in the busyness of daily homelife. In the mountains we were free to be silly, silent, somber. To experience the grandeur of this world the Lord created and inhale the spirit of its beauty. At night when the campfire was lit, we told our stories, sung our songs, and sometimes flamed our marshmallows into Olympic torches. On some clear summer nights we could lie back and see the Milky Way sweep across the curve of dark sky. And I would feel so small. We would eventually gather together and settle in for the night. After the rustle of sleeping bags and the hurried last minute whispers of the children, there was quiet. I would sit near the campfire, warmed by the flickering coals as they burned down for the night and simply be.

Soon the days will lengthen and the summer heat will come to our valley. I know the mountains will be there for me, cool, refreshing and welcoming me home.

Across the Finish Line in Clovis

Yesterday our home town of Clovis went International. The Tour of California bicycle race came to town and brought with it over 150 world-class bike racers from all over the world. Following two days of torrential rains and grueling miles on the previous stages, the fourth stage of the race which went from Madera to Clovis dawned sunny and almost warm. As the racers sped over the course which climbed up through snowy Oakhurst near Yosemite and then down through the flats north of Fresno, the 25,000 onlookers in Old Town Clovis kept one eye on the Jumbotron and the other watching for the racers to appear on Clovis Avenue. About 3 hours and some minutes into the race the shout was raised, "They're about 20 miles out!" Heads bobbed back and forth as the crowds leaned forward over the barricades, hoping to catch a glimpse of the first riders. "Watch for the helicopters. When you see them, the racers are not far behind." In a few minutes two helicopters hovered just north of downtown. The traditional cowbells that clang a welcome to bicycle riders began sounding up and down the street. Leaning over the upstairs balcony at Fifth and Pollasky Streets I strained to see to Clovis Avenue where the racers would first ride, then loop around to race to the finish past us on Pollasky. Literally, in a flash the peleton was there a block away, then past. We knew they would be sprinting past us in just a few minutes. Bells rang, flags and banners waved, people were cheering and clapping as the first rider rounded the corner followed closely by a huge pack of riders going flat out. They were a block away, and then in a moment, they were past...in a blur of spinning wheels and bright jerseys. "Did you see Lance? Did you see him?" I heard from several onlookers. "I think so. I'm not sure," was the answer. Me, too. He must have been in the group. But in that moment of sheer energy it was hard to tell them apart. Lance Armstrong was one of the riders as was Levi Leipheimer, the current leader of the race that day. Several riders rode in long after the main body had crossed the finish line, slowly, painfully making their way down the last few hundred yards. And for every last one of the riders, the crowd cheered and rang their cowbells, glad for them to have made it to the finish. There is something to be said for those who race with hopes to win, and those who race with hopes to finish. For most of us there are many times we will be glad we have just finished the race and I think we'll hope that there will be someone on the sidelines cheering and glad we made it across the finish line.

The Loves of My Life

Valentine's Day is a perfect time to reflect on love. It seems so much the topic of art, music, literature that you might think the human race would have figured out what it is that makes up this thing we call "love". Some say it is a physiological hormonal response. Others might say it's a chemical reaction, hence the phrase "It's Chemistry!" More reflect on the emotional aspects of love and the ethereal concepts of "true love". I confess I have no philosophical definition of love. I only know that in my life, love is central to my happiness. What I have experienced is love in its various forms. Compassion, grace, forgiveness, charity, fondness, generosity, caring, delight, steadfastness, trust, pure joy and countless other qualities that make up the mosaic we might call "love". Elizabeth Barrett Browning wrote, "How do I love thee, Let me count the ways...." I give up. I can't do it. There is no way I can count the ways that I love the people in my life. Pictured here are some of those I love most. Foremost, is my husband who makes my life one grand adventure filled with love. I am blessed beyond measure to know that our love will continue throughout eternity. One of our favorite phrases came from a card he gave me spontaneously one day long ago. Simply it said, "Yes indeedy, you're my sweetie!" We've said those words to each other many, many times over the years and they have the same silly sweetness they did the first time I read them. I think I've come to the conclusion that "love" doesn't need to be defined to be understood. It only needs to be experienced. I have, and I know what love is. Happy Valentines Day to all the loves of my life.

A part of the laser and Kevin at his presentation

Way to Go

Parents always seem to have high expectations for their children. In our case our expectations have been greatly exceeded by all of our children and we are constantly amazed at what they have accomplished, and are still achieving in their lives. This week was a celebration of our son Kevin's lifelong dream. When he was about four years old he decided that the world of physics was where he wanted to grow up and unravel the mysteries of the universe. Tuesday he received his Ph.D. in physics from the University of Rochester and completed a thesis which explored the attributes and applicability of the Bose-Einstein condensate in new ways. While the math and science are way beyond what this mere mortal mom can comprehend, I can understand in some small measure what being recognized for this sometimes agonizingly painful research means to Kevin. The whole family rejoices in his success and are grateful for the gracious patience of Kevin's wife, Dana who has encouraged him at every turn. So, Dr. Wright, we honor your achievement. Now, about that teleporter I asked for. Maybe next on the list?

Extremely Good

Last week it was announced that the ABC television program "Extreme Home Makeover" was coming to Fresno. Five families were in the running to be chosen to have a home built for them. At 10 a.m. on Thursday morning the Riojas family was greeted by host Ty Pennington's bull horn announcing they would be whisked away to a ski vacation in Colorado while their old house was demolished. A new home would be built in one week that would meet the needs of Mary Ann Riojas who was born without legs. Read about this amazing woman and her family. http://www.extremedeyoung.com/family.php I have been a fan of this TV program for years and had heard of friends who had participated in builds in other parts of the country. The stories all have the same motivation; to make life better for some very deserving people. I have admired the enthusiasm and sensitivity of the that filled each episode. I was not ready, however, for the impact that I have felt in my own life seeing such extreme measures of good will come to my own backyard. I wanted to be a part of this demonstration of community service. As soon as I heard the project was going to be in Fresno I signed up on the builder's website as a volunteer. That was Sunday. The volunteers would be notified in the next couple of days with what their assignment would be. On Wednesday I got the email. They had so many volunteers they could not use them all and I was too late. At first I was disappointed, but then I realized that they had 4,000 members of the community willing to hammer, nail, dry wall, shovel, scrub and serve donuts round the clock for the five building days. Some skeptics may think these people were only trying to get on television. I like to think otherwise and believe that people are inherently good and you just have to give them an opportunity to shine. Since I wasn't going to be able to work as a volunteer, I decided to visit the construction site. Today I joined about 100 people waiting in line for the shuttlebus that would carry us to the construction site. The crowd was a great mix of people who were chatting and enjoying the beautiful afternoon of 65 degree weather. It reminded me of waiting for a ride at a Disney resort. There was anticipation and a feeling of joy as we went to witness something that reaffirmed that there is still goodness in the world. After a short ride we arrived at the construction site, the house completed and ready to load in the furniture. There were hundreds of people lining the neighborhood street and more streaming in from the regularly arriving shuttlebuses. The television crew was moving cameras to various locations, the blue-shirted volunteers were herded to the side of the driveway, and after about 20 minutes a huge roar rose up from the crowd and two of the design team members, Michael Moloney and Didiayer Schneider led another group of volunteers out of the home to help unload one of the truckloads of furniture. All the time the crowd was laughing, visiting with the neighbors who were perched on rooftops and front porches. It was a scene that in all its chaotic glory was electrified with hope, goodwill, and generosity. Yes, it was extreme. Yes, it was just one family. But it is one more effort that perhaps will touch the hearts of those who have been even a small part of something that is good in life. I know it has touched mine. In an extremely good way.