So many reasons...

Oh, yes. I have so many reasons to be thankful this week.

Sometimes when I really stop and think about all I have to be thankful for, I get a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. My blessings abound.

I am grateful that I have a reasonable about of knowledge stored in my brain. I try to keep myself fresh and learning on a daily basis. Sometimes it happens. Sometimes it doesn't. This past week, I began a series of genealogy classes at a local library in a small town close by. I'm grateful that people think I may have something to offer.

I'm grateful for the musical talent I possess, and hope that it has enhanced the lives of the people around me. For the past couple of weeks, I worked closely with others in our ward that are talented, and they assisted me in the music for today's services. People were spellbound. Some even mentioned they could have just listened to the music the whole time and nothing else! I'm grate for music and what it has meant to me in my life.

I am grateful for the church that has been a part of my life all of my life. The teachings of the gospel have helped get me through some of the toughest things I thought I would never have to face. Those teachings gave me hope. They gave me strength.

I am even grateful for little Mr. Eddie. He is a little protector of our home. He has his place here. This past week, one of my dearest friends that I've known since I was six years old was robbed. Her dog was put down last week. She was robbed this week. They ransacked her home, and stole her mother's gold jewelry and her father's coins - both of whom are deceased. My heart has just ached for her all week. I wondered what I would do. If I were here, Mr. Eddie would probably alert me, for he even despises Mr. Brown (the UPS man). If I weren't here, he may die trying to protect his domain. He's little - only 8 lbs. But, he's a joy and a comfort to us - and a bit of an assurance to us. Our little protector...

I am grateful for each of you that receives this email. Sometimes I wonder why I still do it. But, each of you has meant something to me, or you wouldn't be included on the list. Forgive me if I get long-winded or preachy. But...you all know where 'DELETE' is.

I am grateful for computers and technology that allows each of us to keep in contact with each other. I have been able to rejoice as I hear about the good news in your lives, mourn when the news is sad, and reach out when a pat on the back is needed.

But most of all, I am thankful for this Thanksgiving holiday. It is perhaps the one holiday that all of us can agree on in commonality. What one of us is not bowing our head in thanks as we look around us at what could be? This holiday is my favorite holiday. We have the opportunity to pause and remember the great blessings in our lives - our families, our children, our grandchildren, our spouses, our parents, our health, our homes...oh, I could make a list that would never, ever end.

God bless you all this Thanksgiving week.

And now, for my memory of the week...

I was six years old, and I was lost.

Quite often, my parents and sometimes my sisters would travel to Palmyra, New York to view the Hill Cumorah Pageant. It is the one of the largest outdoor pageants in America, and quite possibly the world, with a cast of 700. Nightly attendance averages 10,000 and more. Our family had the opportunity to be in the cast on several occasions. It was one of the highlights of our lives.

When I was about six, my parents and I were there with sister Ferne. I can't remember if any other of my sisters were there or not. I just know that we had been sitting in our seats for a long time and were waiting for the time when the pageant would begin.

Since I was young and a bit squirrelly, I was hopping up and down and trying to convince my mom that I needed to go to the bathroom. She was hesitant, for she really didn't want to leave her seat. Ferne said to just go ahead and let me go, and told me the exact route to take up through all of the people to get to the restrooms. It really wasn't very complicated. But, I was six.

I came back out, looked around and couldn't remember the route. It was really just a straight walk down an aisle, but I was six.

I began to cry. There was a light rain that was threatening us. I had on a blue and red plaid raincoat. As more time went by, I began to get terrified. I saw a sea of faces and knew I'd never see my mom again!

I cried more. Soon, a man picked me up and dried my eyes and helped me blow my nose. He had me stand on one of the benches and helped me look out over the crowd.

I soon spotted my mom!!! She had begun to worry and was going up and down the aisles looking for me. When she saw me standing on that bench, she pushed through the crowd, thanked the man, and held my hand tightly back to our seats.

I felt so safe and secure. Relief just swept over me. Mom later told me I looked so forlorn when she saw me - and I was just as cold and blue as the blue in my raincoat.
Peggy at six years old.

I guess as a result of that experience, I worried that the same thing would happen when I began to have my own little family. I thought the best way to help prevent this was to have something identifiable on us so that we could see each other better. Shirts were the best idea.

My good friend, Waunita, told me that when she and her husband took their boys to Sea World, they did that very thing. Except - there were lots of school children there that day and they all had the same color of shirts on!

So, when we went to Disneyland, I had all of us wear red shirts. Sure enough, there was a sea of red shirts there that day! But, there was one man in a yellow t-shirt that I could spot anywhere in the park. (Yellow stands out particularly well for our eyes. That's why we have black on yellow for our "warning" road signs - Merge, Railroad, etc.)

Also, when we dressed alike, not only was it easier to spot my kids, but it was easy for them to spot us, too! They could tell a cop or an information person or a store clerk exactly what their parents were wearing...
I might add that we don't all dress alike now. They're on their own.