We saw Les Miserables last night. What an incredible night. I have so many thoughts, it is really a jumble. Of course that could also related to staying up until 2am talking, the getting up with babies at 5.
Random Thoughts:
Marius is so much more likeable in the play, than in the book. He is a strong character with compassion. His love story with Cossette was much more enjoyable because of that.
The differences between America at the time of their revolution and France at the time of its revolution
America-free, independent, self sufficient, educated, moral
France-debt and poverty, immorality
It has been said that a tipping point in cycles of freedom and captivity is when the people vote themselves money...What are tipping points as far as morality go? how about avoiding the consequences and responsibilities of sex?
The Bishop...what a powerful, but brief scene. As he was on stage I was replaying in my head my favorite bishop stories...just so inspiring. I do wish he had been there when Jean Val Jean died. The man palying him has other parts during the play, which also makes it so the Bishop is not in the curtain call.
How amazing it is that Jean Val Jean gets a standing ovation...it just struck me that the actor deserved it, but I wonder how many amazing cycle breaking parents there are who definitely deserve a standing ovation.
Javert..really what was up with that death scene, oh the drama. Everyone else died rather quickly except the leader at the barracade, but even his looked so very mild in comparison. With Javert we have swirling, arm reaching drama...
"Bring Him Home" Jean Val Jean so passionately prays, pleads and begs. How selflessly he prays for another man's life, the man who will take his dear daughter from him. Then after that compassionate moving prayer, he is God's wind, He picks up Marius and struggles through the sewer.
"On my Own" Eponine had the best voice of the night. It was sung so beautifully and honestly. She is also a cycle breaker...a woman who has scarcely been loved, is surroundd by poverty and evil, yet she chooses to love.
I may organize this better later....
Friday, June 29, 2007
Saturday, June 23, 2007
inspiring teachers
I have had a few wonderful teachers. I was thinking about one a few weeks ago and wrote her a thank you note. It was surprisingly easy to find her on the web and send it to the school where she works. Her name is Sheryl Lloyd. She was my elementary school music teacher. I can still here her voice describing some songs. I will always remember going with her to a jazz club. I can still see her teaching rhythm and hear the sound she makes when she is voicing a drum. It is amazing how strong and impact an inspiring teacher can have.
Mrs. Crie was my 3rd grade teacher. That was a pivotal year for me as we had just moved. New school, new friends...she was fabulous. I can still hear her reading LIttle House on the Prairie. She had the best voice. She was so interesting we all wanted to be good so she could teach.
I was also inspired by my 7th grade algebra teacher. He would make up word problems using our slightly altered names. Our favorite was Miffany Todell. He loved math so much it was intriguing...I couldn't help but look for what there was to love. He made up a series of math problems for us to solve, apply to measurements which would direct us to a certain spot on campus. If we found the right spot, and dug, we found the answers to the math test. He also had this amazing way of making it sound cool to not have been kissed yet, and to wait to date. I don't remember how he did that. Mr. Huyett...what a guy.
My physics teacher was Mr. Harvey. Teaching Physics, the last class of the day, to a bunch of seniors could present a challenge. I don't know of anyone who ever ditched his class. He was fascinating. He loved Physics. He would come in some days and cancel the lecture because he just HAD to share something he just learned. I can still remember one of those spontaneous lectures in my mind. He also had great demonstrations and visuals. I will always remember the endorsement letter her wrote for me. What a guy who took time out for his students.
Not exactly a teacher...but my favorite coach in high school was absolutely Ken Bauman. He loved basketball. He had us diagramming plays and taking the sport seriously. He would get frustrated but had incredible self control. He was such a great example, and so caring. He really got to know us and got us inspired to play because we wanted to play better for him.
After thinking about these teachers it occurred to me...in the course of my public school education I had almost 50 different teachers...and here are 5 that inspired me. I had some other good teachers, and some that were fun...but to me an inspiring teacher is different. An inspiring teacher is passionate about their subject. They are still learning about their subject themselves, because they love it. They share what they learn, because they just can't help it. They inspire me to want to learn on my own. Less than 10% of my teachers fit in that category...
Out of curiosity I polled two message boards...asking how many of their teachers were inspiring. I wasn't implying that the rest of the teachers were bad, but truly inspiring. By far most people replied 3-5 of their teachers were inspiring. Right about what I had and jut under 10 %.. I found this very sad. WHY? Why aren't more teachers inspiring? Is it that they don't get to choose their own curriculum? Is it class size? Is it the principal? Is it how teachers are trained. One person said she didn't think i should expect a majority of teachers to be inspiring...maybe..but not even 15%? One woman (a teacher) said every single one of her teachers was inspiring. She was really a little frustrated with my poll and felt I was attacking teachers. When I asked about her teachers she mentioned things like...oh this teacher had a really pretty bulletin board, this teacher wrote this note to my parents once that made me feel good...ummm perhaps we are inspired by different things.
I can't imagine anything more important in the education of a child, than to have a teacher so excited about learning that they can't help but share. I wonder if it would be different if we changed how we trained teachers. Instead of learning new bulletin board techniques and how to deal with discipline problems; what if we focused on just how fascinating math, English, Reading, Writing, and science can be. What if our teachers left teacher training with a story they can't wait to share about a mathematician, or a science experiment that taught them something new. What if they found a new favorite poem and just couldn't wait to memorize it and recite it for their class. What if they heard a new piece of music, or rediscovered an old artist...how would it change school if our teachers were like that. How can we encourage that?
While you are trying to solve America's education problems, think back on your favorite teachers and write them a note...
Mrs. Crie was my 3rd grade teacher. That was a pivotal year for me as we had just moved. New school, new friends...she was fabulous. I can still hear her reading LIttle House on the Prairie. She had the best voice. She was so interesting we all wanted to be good so she could teach.
I was also inspired by my 7th grade algebra teacher. He would make up word problems using our slightly altered names. Our favorite was Miffany Todell. He loved math so much it was intriguing...I couldn't help but look for what there was to love. He made up a series of math problems for us to solve, apply to measurements which would direct us to a certain spot on campus. If we found the right spot, and dug, we found the answers to the math test. He also had this amazing way of making it sound cool to not have been kissed yet, and to wait to date. I don't remember how he did that. Mr. Huyett...what a guy.
My physics teacher was Mr. Harvey. Teaching Physics, the last class of the day, to a bunch of seniors could present a challenge. I don't know of anyone who ever ditched his class. He was fascinating. He loved Physics. He would come in some days and cancel the lecture because he just HAD to share something he just learned. I can still remember one of those spontaneous lectures in my mind. He also had great demonstrations and visuals. I will always remember the endorsement letter her wrote for me. What a guy who took time out for his students.
Not exactly a teacher...but my favorite coach in high school was absolutely Ken Bauman. He loved basketball. He had us diagramming plays and taking the sport seriously. He would get frustrated but had incredible self control. He was such a great example, and so caring. He really got to know us and got us inspired to play because we wanted to play better for him.
After thinking about these teachers it occurred to me...in the course of my public school education I had almost 50 different teachers...and here are 5 that inspired me. I had some other good teachers, and some that were fun...but to me an inspiring teacher is different. An inspiring teacher is passionate about their subject. They are still learning about their subject themselves, because they love it. They share what they learn, because they just can't help it. They inspire me to want to learn on my own. Less than 10% of my teachers fit in that category...
Out of curiosity I polled two message boards...asking how many of their teachers were inspiring. I wasn't implying that the rest of the teachers were bad, but truly inspiring. By far most people replied 3-5 of their teachers were inspiring. Right about what I had and jut under 10 %.. I found this very sad. WHY? Why aren't more teachers inspiring? Is it that they don't get to choose their own curriculum? Is it class size? Is it the principal? Is it how teachers are trained. One person said she didn't think i should expect a majority of teachers to be inspiring...maybe..but not even 15%? One woman (a teacher) said every single one of her teachers was inspiring. She was really a little frustrated with my poll and felt I was attacking teachers. When I asked about her teachers she mentioned things like...oh this teacher had a really pretty bulletin board, this teacher wrote this note to my parents once that made me feel good...ummm perhaps we are inspired by different things.
I can't imagine anything more important in the education of a child, than to have a teacher so excited about learning that they can't help but share. I wonder if it would be different if we changed how we trained teachers. Instead of learning new bulletin board techniques and how to deal with discipline problems; what if we focused on just how fascinating math, English, Reading, Writing, and science can be. What if our teachers left teacher training with a story they can't wait to share about a mathematician, or a science experiment that taught them something new. What if they found a new favorite poem and just couldn't wait to memorize it and recite it for their class. What if they heard a new piece of music, or rediscovered an old artist...how would it change school if our teachers were like that. How can we encourage that?
While you are trying to solve America's education problems, think back on your favorite teachers and write them a note...
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Manna of motherhood
I was reading about the parting of the Red Sea this morning and thinking about the drama of such a scene. I can't really say I've had that dramatic a miracle in my own life. I have felt miraculous happenings around the birth of my babies and at certain times in my life I have felt the saving influence of the atonement. These are miracles to me. The miracles in my life correlate more closely with the forty years in the wilderness than the dramatic day at the red sea.
I say that because in the daily tasks of motherhood, I have been aided daily by the Savior. I am reminded of a journal entry I made a few months ago...
I am home from church tending my sick babies. Watching Elder Oaks recent conference talk, “He will heal the heavy laden” I am reminded of the help I have received in caring for my children. Elder Oaks said “If your prayers and the power of the priesthood are not enough to heal you of your burden, the atonement of Christ will surely give you the power to bear it”. I have felt that power even in the simple acts of having enough strength to stay awake through the day and take care of my children's’ needs. I was not healed, my children were not instantly healed, yet despite the minuscule amount of sleep I was living on, I was living and functioning enough to mother my children. For me this was a miracle. Perhaps because this miracle is difficult to detect, there was not dry land, where water once stood, or lingering seagulls to notice, I found myself frequently tempted to mentally retain the burden Christ had already physically lightened. I was feeling able to care for my children, but still fearful and lonely in the process. How long would this last? Would I have strength tomorrow? Would I not get much outside help even a person to talk with? My loneliness is real and difficult. For some reason instead of going again to Christ for assistance I would instead use my burden to draw people to me, the very burden which had already been lightened by the Savior! I would mentally take it back. I would talk with people about my struggles with my sick baby and caring for my 6 other young children, all on little sleep and with a husband working diligently and necessarily so, on a new job. Doesn’t that sound impressive? In a way I was bragging for for accomplishing what the Lord was doing , fishing for assistance when it was already being given. I was implying I needed more help than the Lord is giving.
I find it interesting that in the scripture “Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you for I am meek and lowly of heart, learn of me and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” I felt I had done the fist part. I recognized that Christ was not going to heal my baby at this time, or somehow lessen my child caring duties, but instead was going to strengthen me to care for my own children. I had found strength and rest in that way. I recognized days when I should have collapsed, but instead had been able to simply care for my children. However, I had not continued by taking his yoke upon me and learning of him. I had accepted the physical support and rest, but not yet the mental and spiritual rest to my soul. That second rest requires additional mental effort-faith and learning. Part of the learning may be to become meek and lowly of heart as the Savior reminds us he is. This humility will keep us from assuming we know better than the Lord how we need to be succored. As if we, the patient, were writing our own prescription and not surprisingly it is a quick easy fix that would no longer necessitate visits to our healer. Hoping to get on with our lives we would avoid the one who gave His life to give us eternal life?
I wonder if this is similar to why the children of Israel grew tired of Manna? That has always fascinated me. I have a good or bad habit of putting myself in the place of the struggling people in the scriptures...perhaps I just identify with them more. I have struggled to understand the children of Israel in their wanderings and miraculous blessings. They were let by a pillar of fire and daily fed by the hand of God, yet they doubted and grumbled. They gathered manna daily and accepted the physical nourishment it gave. Yet they did not seek the aid that would have granted them grace and gratitude amidst their forty year struggle. They continually bucked against gathering daily and became critical of the nurturing food they gathered...it wasn't the kind of help they wanted, nor granted in the way they desired.
Isn't this exactly what I do sometimes? Beg for blessings, than criticize them when they arrive, for being not something enough...the height of ingratitude.
The thing I'm frequently bucking against is not unlike the daily gathering of manna..I sometimes wish for something more than the daily strength I am given. The children of Israel wanted variety in their nourishing gift, and sometimes I do as well. I also notice that I quickly forget to do my daily gathering of scripture study, despite the brightness of the pillar that leads me when I do.
I say that because in the daily tasks of motherhood, I have been aided daily by the Savior. I am reminded of a journal entry I made a few months ago...
I am home from church tending my sick babies. Watching Elder Oaks recent conference talk, “He will heal the heavy laden” I am reminded of the help I have received in caring for my children. Elder Oaks said “If your prayers and the power of the priesthood are not enough to heal you of your burden, the atonement of Christ will surely give you the power to bear it”. I have felt that power even in the simple acts of having enough strength to stay awake through the day and take care of my children's’ needs. I was not healed, my children were not instantly healed, yet despite the minuscule amount of sleep I was living on, I was living and functioning enough to mother my children. For me this was a miracle. Perhaps because this miracle is difficult to detect, there was not dry land, where water once stood, or lingering seagulls to notice, I found myself frequently tempted to mentally retain the burden Christ had already physically lightened. I was feeling able to care for my children, but still fearful and lonely in the process. How long would this last? Would I have strength tomorrow? Would I not get much outside help even a person to talk with? My loneliness is real and difficult. For some reason instead of going again to Christ for assistance I would instead use my burden to draw people to me, the very burden which had already been lightened by the Savior! I would mentally take it back. I would talk with people about my struggles with my sick baby and caring for my 6 other young children, all on little sleep and with a husband working diligently and necessarily so, on a new job. Doesn’t that sound impressive? In a way I was bragging for for accomplishing what the Lord was doing , fishing for assistance when it was already being given. I was implying I needed more help than the Lord is giving.
I find it interesting that in the scripture “Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you for I am meek and lowly of heart, learn of me and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” I felt I had done the fist part. I recognized that Christ was not going to heal my baby at this time, or somehow lessen my child caring duties, but instead was going to strengthen me to care for my own children. I had found strength and rest in that way. I recognized days when I should have collapsed, but instead had been able to simply care for my children. However, I had not continued by taking his yoke upon me and learning of him. I had accepted the physical support and rest, but not yet the mental and spiritual rest to my soul. That second rest requires additional mental effort-faith and learning. Part of the learning may be to become meek and lowly of heart as the Savior reminds us he is. This humility will keep us from assuming we know better than the Lord how we need to be succored. As if we, the patient, were writing our own prescription and not surprisingly it is a quick easy fix that would no longer necessitate visits to our healer. Hoping to get on with our lives we would avoid the one who gave His life to give us eternal life?
I wonder if this is similar to why the children of Israel grew tired of Manna? That has always fascinated me. I have a good or bad habit of putting myself in the place of the struggling people in the scriptures...perhaps I just identify with them more. I have struggled to understand the children of Israel in their wanderings and miraculous blessings. They were let by a pillar of fire and daily fed by the hand of God, yet they doubted and grumbled. They gathered manna daily and accepted the physical nourishment it gave. Yet they did not seek the aid that would have granted them grace and gratitude amidst their forty year struggle. They continually bucked against gathering daily and became critical of the nurturing food they gathered...it wasn't the kind of help they wanted, nor granted in the way they desired.
Isn't this exactly what I do sometimes? Beg for blessings, than criticize them when they arrive, for being not something enough...the height of ingratitude.
The thing I'm frequently bucking against is not unlike the daily gathering of manna..I sometimes wish for something more than the daily strength I am given. The children of Israel wanted variety in their nourishing gift, and sometimes I do as well. I also notice that I quickly forget to do my daily gathering of scripture study, despite the brightness of the pillar that leads me when I do.
Friday, May 4, 2007
PBS Mormon Documentary
Well, I watched it. I found the history fairly well done. Obviously polygamy needs to be discussed. Obviously the Mountain Meadows Massacre should be discussed, it is a truly tragic event.
I will never understand why the best source of information would be an excommunicated member. One woman tells in detail how she was excommunicated for teaching doctrines that contradict church teachings...yet she is quoted explaining church doctrine and the most sacred experiences available to church members. A man explains that his excommunication ended his marriage...is he really sure that it wasn't the homosexual affair he had? Would his wife had been fine with that, if he hadn't been excommunicated?
I was most mystified by the dancing comment...Mormons value dancing above education. Where in the world was that from?
I would have loved to see the docuentarian use our artwork, or at least more neutral artwork. A very dark picture of Jesus in reds and blacks, with music in a minor key....this is the background for Joseph Smith's first vision? The wording of the vision was fairly accurate, so why the slant on the art?
My favorite part of the whole documentary was an Evangelical minister. He obviously does not believe what I believe, yet he was very respectful. Wonderful!
Perhaps it could have been called Perspectives on Mormonism...it did show different perspectives.
I will never understand why the best source of information would be an excommunicated member. One woman tells in detail how she was excommunicated for teaching doctrines that contradict church teachings...yet she is quoted explaining church doctrine and the most sacred experiences available to church members. A man explains that his excommunication ended his marriage...is he really sure that it wasn't the homosexual affair he had? Would his wife had been fine with that, if he hadn't been excommunicated?
I was most mystified by the dancing comment...Mormons value dancing above education. Where in the world was that from?
I would have loved to see the docuentarian use our artwork, or at least more neutral artwork. A very dark picture of Jesus in reds and blacks, with music in a minor key....this is the background for Joseph Smith's first vision? The wording of the vision was fairly accurate, so why the slant on the art?
My favorite part of the whole documentary was an Evangelical minister. He obviously does not believe what I believe, yet he was very respectful. Wonderful!
Perhaps it could have been called Perspectives on Mormonism...it did show different perspectives.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
a day in the life...a very random day at that
I wake up shortly before 6, check my email and start to exercise. My dear son Raymond wakes up and the questions begin. My favorite question during exercise..."Mom why are you still exercising, your stomach is just like it was before the babies" He then runs away and doesn't understand why I am trying to kiss him.
We actually read our scriptures to relative quiet...assuming car and pony noises are "relatively" quiet.
I feed everyone breakfast while Chris takes off to work.
I sneak in a shower...the babies come and find me.
Ben the 3 year old decides that he prefers the living room floor to the toilet or the diaper...I think I need another shower.
Raymond greets me with the question...how many keys are there on a flute. I wish desparately our computer were back from the shop so I could google. How did parents deal with curious children without google? I call BYU info, figuring their computer department has my computer for a rediculously long time, maybe they can work for me...naw. I all a musical neighbor and she googles it, but we are still in discussion. How about the holes that are not necessarily keys? I try to distract Raymond with discussion of Piano's being a string instrument while the organ is a wind intrument...he doesn't get distracted easily.
Snack time...ants on a log. Raymond asks...is the peanut butter the log, or the celery?
We are reading Summer of the Monkeys. In this particular section Jimbo the Chimpanzee gets the boy drunk...he feels disgustingly sick. We look up the words sober, chimpanzee and hydrophobia (did you know Rabies is sometimes called hydrophobia because the animals get so sick the stop wanting to drink?)
Raymond interupts our reading to ask about the difference between a mule and a donkey...
LUNCH and chores (surprisingly painless)and NAPS!
The children watch a short show while I read...Those who love by Irving Stone. It is a fascinating book about Abigail and John Adams. It stimulates a thought..In around 1785 there were about 6000 abandoned babies a year in Paris. How does that happen? At a lecture I attended they suggested a tipping point in government is when the people vote themselves money. I wonder what some tipping points in morality are? I also wonder again at the differences between the American revolution and the French Revolution. I discover that Ben tried to use the whole bottle of soap to wash his hands, and his belly and legs and the chair. Miraculously his face is still very dirty. I throw him in the shower...he screams because he has hydrophobia...or because he'd rather not take a shower.
The babies wake up and all deep thought is drowned out by crying. We all go outside and enjoy the beautiful day.
Dinner is later than expected, which is normal. It is also vastly underappretiated.
I get all the children to bed, except Becca who is having personal difficulties in that area.
Natalie snuggles our cat fuzzy while I read to her for her night.
Chris comes homes and devours the dinner, then changes and runs out to play basketball.
QUIET!! I do dishes and here I sit...ahhh
Now I can google all those questions, as well as the word for the day from yesterday in a black hole video "spagetification"???
We actually read our scriptures to relative quiet...assuming car and pony noises are "relatively" quiet.
I feed everyone breakfast while Chris takes off to work.
I sneak in a shower...the babies come and find me.
Ben the 3 year old decides that he prefers the living room floor to the toilet or the diaper...I think I need another shower.
Raymond greets me with the question...how many keys are there on a flute. I wish desparately our computer were back from the shop so I could google. How did parents deal with curious children without google? I call BYU info, figuring their computer department has my computer for a rediculously long time, maybe they can work for me...naw. I all a musical neighbor and she googles it, but we are still in discussion. How about the holes that are not necessarily keys? I try to distract Raymond with discussion of Piano's being a string instrument while the organ is a wind intrument...he doesn't get distracted easily.
Snack time...ants on a log. Raymond asks...is the peanut butter the log, or the celery?
We are reading Summer of the Monkeys. In this particular section Jimbo the Chimpanzee gets the boy drunk...he feels disgustingly sick. We look up the words sober, chimpanzee and hydrophobia (did you know Rabies is sometimes called hydrophobia because the animals get so sick the stop wanting to drink?)
Raymond interupts our reading to ask about the difference between a mule and a donkey...
LUNCH and chores (surprisingly painless)and NAPS!
The children watch a short show while I read...Those who love by Irving Stone. It is a fascinating book about Abigail and John Adams. It stimulates a thought..In around 1785 there were about 6000 abandoned babies a year in Paris. How does that happen? At a lecture I attended they suggested a tipping point in government is when the people vote themselves money. I wonder what some tipping points in morality are? I also wonder again at the differences between the American revolution and the French Revolution. I discover that Ben tried to use the whole bottle of soap to wash his hands, and his belly and legs and the chair. Miraculously his face is still very dirty. I throw him in the shower...he screams because he has hydrophobia...or because he'd rather not take a shower.
The babies wake up and all deep thought is drowned out by crying. We all go outside and enjoy the beautiful day.
Dinner is later than expected, which is normal. It is also vastly underappretiated.
I get all the children to bed, except Becca who is having personal difficulties in that area.
Natalie snuggles our cat fuzzy while I read to her for her night.
Chris comes homes and devours the dinner, then changes and runs out to play basketball.
QUIET!! I do dishes and here I sit...ahhh
Now I can google all those questions, as well as the word for the day from yesterday in a black hole video "spagetification"???
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Easter children
Here are a few pitures form Easter weekend. As always I wish I had taken more pictures, but here are a few...
This is our cousin Michael sharing his piano time with Susan. She kept climbing up holding onto his jeans.
Rebecca and Susan were slow and careful egg gatherers.
The other children were quick and careful egg gatherers.
Here is the loot.
Susan settled into Uncle Bob's lap, which was a sweet and sticky experience for him!
This is our cousin Michael sharing his piano time with Susan. She kept climbing up holding onto his jeans.
Rebecca and Susan were slow and careful egg gatherers. 
The other children were quick and careful egg gatherers.
Here is the loot.
Susan settled into Uncle Bob's lap, which was a sweet and sticky experience for him!
cute children comments
For some reason I have yet to determine, the cute children comments go in spurts. We'll go for weeks with normal, hum drum discussion. Then WHAMMY a few days of great comments. In the last week I can think of three comments that must be remembered. The first is from Raymond, the 7 year old. He always has a zillion questions and is always thinking. Here is a glimpse at what he was thinking for this moment...he walked out of the bathroom and said "Mom, when I grow up, some people will call me a fish, but I still won't have gills."
That's it! No explanation, no context, no background...the mind reels.
Now two darling comments from Ben the 3 year old. He climbed on my lap, put his arms around me and said, "Mom, you are my smooching thing!" Then he kissed my nose.
The next one is really a conversation. I don't know what the background for this is, but somehow the 5 year old, Lydia, got the idea to ask Ben, 3, who he wants to live by when he grows up. She obviously wanted to convince him that she should be the obvious choice...
Lydia "Ben, who do you want to live by when you grow up? Because I've always been.."
At which point Ben interupts to say "Jesus! I want to live by Jesus"
Lydia responds "You could live bythe church."
Ben says "I think I'll live by the Temple"
Just plain cute!
That's it! No explanation, no context, no background...the mind reels.
Now two darling comments from Ben the 3 year old. He climbed on my lap, put his arms around me and said, "Mom, you are my smooching thing!" Then he kissed my nose.
The next one is really a conversation. I don't know what the background for this is, but somehow the 5 year old, Lydia, got the idea to ask Ben, 3, who he wants to live by when he grows up. She obviously wanted to convince him that she should be the obvious choice...
Lydia "Ben, who do you want to live by when you grow up? Because I've always been.."
At which point Ben interupts to say "Jesus! I want to live by Jesus"
Lydia responds "You could live bythe church."
Ben says "I think I'll live by the Temple"
Just plain cute!
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