Lesson 12: Repentance is a Blessing (A Study of Twelve-year-old Behavior)

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I realize the 12-year-olds in my class are not committing murder or smoking or doing anything really bad. They are good kids. I may not have prepared my lesson as best as I could, but they really took me off guard yesterday. Here’s a rundown of my class yesterday (it’s kind of long):

(I’ll call the class Mary, Sarah, Elizabeth, and John, just for privacy’s sake.)

We started by reading Alma 38:8. Mary had forgotten her scriptures. Our meeting house library only has spare scriptures in Chinese.

  • Me: Alma had to recognize he’s sinned: he felt the pain of guilt. The first part of repentance is recognizing you did something wrong. Why do you think we need to recognize that?
  • Sarah: So you can repent. Duh! Ew! Stop–that is so gross.
  • [Mary has taken a pushpin from the bulletin board and is popping the blister on her toe with it. I decide to ignore her. Why? I don’t know.]
  • Me: Ok, let’s read Doctrine and Covenants 58:38. John, can you read that?
  • Sarah: Ew! Now I need to wash my foot! [She storms out of the room.]
  • Elizabeth: What happened? [That’s what I’m thinking too.]
  • Mary: I bumped her foot with mine! [I don’t blame Sarah at this point: Mary has been popping blisters on her toe. I would want to wash my foot too.]
  • Me: OK, so what those verses said: What do we need to do to repent?
  • Elizabeth: Confess and Forsake.
  • Me: Good!Can you write that on the board? [Elizabeth volunteered before class to be scribe.]
  • Mary: You dummy! Confess has two S‘s.
  • Me: Let’s not call names. It doesn’t matter how it’s spelled. What does forsake mean?
  • Mary: It means, well, like “For your sake.”
  • Me: Not quite. It means “to give up.” Why do you think we need to give up our sins?
  • John: So we don’t do it again. To show we’re sorry and won’t do it again.
  • Me, glad someone is focused: Right. To show we won’t do it again: we really mean it! Another thing we have to do is keep the commandments. (Can you write that on the board, too?)
  • [Elizabeth has by now drawn an elaborate design beside the list of steps of repentance. She’s also written CTR! CHOOSE TO REPENT!]
  • Elizabeth: Oh, what am I suppose to write?
  • [Great, has she heard any of this?]
  • John: Keep the commandments!
  • Sarah, storming back into the room: That was the grossest thing in the world!
  • Me: Anyway, as I was saying. We need to not do it again. So if we’re sorry we hit our sister and we’re repenting for doing that, we need to not do it again.
  • Sarah: Well, except, some things we will do again. Like, I know I’ll hit my brother again.
  • Me: Well, if we are sincere in wanting to repent, we need to stop doing it.
  • Elizabeth: But I have to hit my sisters!
  • Me: Remember how we talked about the premortal life where Satan wanted to let us return to Heavenly Father but he wouldn’t give us a choice? Instead, we came to earth under Heavenly Father’s plan with Christ as our Savior, so what did Heavenly Father give us?
  • Elizabeth: Our agency!
  • Me: Exactly! So you can choose not to hit your brother.
  • Elizabeth: No, I can’t.
  • Sarah: I have to hit my brothers.
  • Mary: There is no choice in the matter.
  • John: I don’t hit my brother.
  • Mary: You only have one brother.
  • Sarah: Yeah, I have six siblings. I have to defend myself.
  • [Sarah has five siblings. I correct her and she says, no, her dad counts as a sibling. Great.]
  • Elizabeth: I have to fight.
  • Sarah: Ew! Stop it! That’s gross. [Mary has renewed the pushpin technique. Now she’s pricking her fingers.]
  • Me: Mary, will you stop poking yourself with a pushpin?!
  • [Mary puts the pushpin back into the board and sits and sulks.]
  • Me, to Elizabeth: Well, if your brother is mean to you, what choices do you have?
  • Elizabeth: To defend myself.
  • Me: And what other choice?
  • Elizabeth: To defend myself.
  • Me: And…
  • Elizabeth: To fight.
  • Me: You can choose not to fight.
  • Elizabeth: No, they’ll all say “What’s wrong with you?”
  • Sarah: Right. I have to defend myself.
  • Me: Ok, so anyway, Heavenly Father’s plan is that we repent and that we actually feel sorry when we repent.

We also talked about making restitution (apologizing, making up for what was wrong) after we do something and we read some more scriptures, but I couldn’t get them to stop claiming they must fight with their siblings. They don’t believe me when I say they have a choice. I couldn’t get Mary to participate after I called her off of her disgusting pop-the-blister kick.

Now, I know I fought with my sister. But I know I chose to fight with her. I know when I still argue with people that I’m choosing to argue. It’s my fault just as much as anyone else’s. It takes two to fight. I also think family discipline has something to do with it. I know Sarah’s family — they are a bit violent to each other in church; I can’t imagine how they would be at home. Case in point: John, who claims he doesn’t fight with his older brother, is a perfect, focused class-participant (most Sundays).

I really don’t remember what was like being twelve. I asked my husband what I can do. His answer? Don’t teach twelve-year-olds.
Here are my questions for you:

  1. Are all twelve-year-olds determined to fight with their siblings?
  2. How do I emphasize repentance when they think they have no choice in the matter (other than using a better example)?
  3. Also, when a class member is being distracting and popping blisters or being gross, how do I ask her to stop without making her annoyed and sullen the rest of the class?

Lesson 12 of 45

My Chair

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Mommy got me a chair.

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When I sit in it, I can see a lot of things. I am up! I can see Mommy. She puts things in her mouth. I can see the table. I can see all sorts of things to grab. Most of the time I can’t reach anything.

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Mommy gives me things to hold. One thing she gives me is this long straight thing. It doesn’t rattle. It doesn’t make noise. I just hold it and try to eat it.

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I think that is the purpose of it: to put it in my mouth. Sometimes Mommy doesn’t want me to put things in my mouth. But then I sit here in my chair and she tries to put things in my mouth.

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Maybe I’ll get used to this new chair. I haven’t decided yet. It’s kind of different.

Castles in the Air and Growing Up (A Little)

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It’s been a long time since I’ve read a young adult novel (other than Harry Potter, which doesn’t count), so when I picked up Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women this week, I was at first taken aback by the rosy, generic moral lessons within it. As I began, I didn’t think I’d have much to ponder, since it’s a reread for me. But I was wrong.

At first the moral lessons were a bit silly to me. For example, when the girls want a holiday week, without any chores, their mother agrees and lets them, knowing they will learn their lesson. Sure enough, by the end of the week, they are ready for chores again! If only lessons are really learned that way.

By the middle, though, I was finding myself relating to the teen angst as the girls began courting and dealing with each other and their life dreams. They plan their “castles in the air” for what they want to be doing in ten years, when they are — get this — between twenty-two and twenty-seven.

What’s your castle in the air for ten years from now? My castle in the air is a four-bedroom house with a fenced-in back yard, a few mature trees, and a few children swinging on a swing set and otherwise playing together. But I’ll go where ever Heavenly Father wants me to be and I’ll accept whatever little blessings he wants to send me (or not send me). I never envisioned Australia, and my life now is essentially my castle in the air. I don’t want my life changed too much. I am very happy.

As I was reading Little Women, I really found myself enjoying the story, as childish and “rosy” as it is. Then, during a scene when a character marries, I had a moment of bizarre realization: I’m not one of them. I’m already married. I have a baby. How am I relating to these girls?

It felt so weird to realize that I’m beyond that stage of life. My life has moved on.

Do you ever have moments when you look at your kid(s) or your job or your degree and wonder how you got there? I know I’ve lived each day to get here, but that moment just seemed out of chronological order. How did I get here already?

By the way, Nancy was the randomly selected winner for Buy Your Friend a Book week.

The True and Unknown Story of James and Margaret

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The story of James and Margaret touched me deeply when I first heard it. What happened to Margaret? I wanted to find her. Since today it is Grandma’s birthday in the USA, I thought I’d post about them again.

Before I began the research for this family, I found that James M. has been sealed to Margaret and to his three children. We think we know Margaret’s parents and James’ parents. They’ve all been sealed, and James has been sealed to his brothers. Now we need to go back a generation.

In doing some very preliminary research, I’ve found holes in this romantic story: I don’t think this story is actually true, and I don’t think we have the children of James and Margaret correct. Here are some things I’ve found and the questions that are raised. If any of you know anything about family history research, I’d love pointers of where to go next.

  • Tradition shows James M. and Margaret being married in 1867. The marriage certificate I found places their marriage in January 1869. This is the one Grandma and my mom believe is theirs, and the parents listed as witnesses are those James and Margaret have been sealed to.
  • James D. claims his own birth as June 1866. This is what he claimed on the 1900 Indiana Patoka census. I don’t think he’d mis-claim his own birth year when he was more than 30 years old. This birth year seems odd given his parent’s marriage date, either the certificate year of 1869 or the traditional year of 1867.
  • In an 1871 U.K. census, I find James and Margaret listed with James Delany, a nephew. I believe this is our James M. and Margaret because it is in the district their wedding occurred in. Also, on the census, James M. is listed as a brick labourer, which is what we know his occupation was in England. This raises many questions. First, where is Margaret Ann, who was supposedly born in 1869? Also, if James D. is James Delany, and he is a nephew, then we’ve sealed him to the wrong parents! Who are his parents? Grandma Benac doesn’t recall Uncle Jim being anything but James M.’s son, but since he was already living with James and Margaret in 1871, maybe something happened to his parents before then and he was adopted at a very young age.
  • I found a 1881 census that lists James M., Martin (James’ brother), and Margaret Ann. I believe these are the correct ancestors, given the district they are found in and their ages and occupations. However, Edwin and Margaret are not to be found on that census, and neither is James D./James Delany. Supposedly, then, Edwin and Margaret already left for America. When did they arrive in America? I have been unable to find them on any ship manifest between 1880 and 1885. Did they make it to America? And where is James D./James Delany? If he’s been adopted, would he still be at home as a 15-year-old boy? Where did he go?
  • I found the 1885 ship manifest from England to New York which lists James Simmons (42), Martin Simmons (46), Margaret Ann Simmons (17), and James Simmons (19). So, by the time they were coming to America, four years after that last census, James D. was already “adopted” into the Simmons’ family and had taken on him their surname. Where did his family go? Who were his family? And why did James M. wait four years before coming after Margaret and Edwin?
  • James D. married late in life. He and his wife, Neicie, were unable to have children. They adopted a boy they named Logan, which was James M.’s mother’s maiden surname. Was James D. related via James M.’s family? On which side, Margaret or James, was he a nephew, as was indicated in the 1871 census?

I need to find James D.: when he was born, who his parents were, where his parents went. I don’t know where to begin. There is so much unanswered, and the search function on Ancestry.com is not the easiest to manipulate. U.K. records are not digital — only the indexes are. So I suspect I’ll have to order the records when I’m sure I have the right one. And how can I be sure? I can’t.

Here’s what I am sure of: there is more to this family than I thought. The most important thing will be finding the right parents so our family can be sealed to their right parents.

The Romance of James and Margaret Simon (Simons/Simmons)

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I started a Benac family history project a year and a half ago. Then I got distracted by a big box of Sorenson Family History. While I remained in Chicago, I scanned the Sorenson family history stories. I am grateful I could get those stories into an electronic format. All of the baptisms and sealings have been done for the Sorenson side, back for a long time.

Lately, I keep thinking about the Benac family history project I started a year and a half ago. I know I need to work on it. I keep feeling the promptings of the Spirit urging me into action. I’m beginning again. Since it is Grandma Benac’s birthday today (it’s already April 14 in Australia), I thought I’d post about this couple in her honor.

I’ll begin telling you the family folklore. In another post, I’ll tell you what I’ve discovered.

James M. Simons (Simmons/Simon) and Margaret were both Irish Catholics, married in the 1860s in England. They had three children: James D., Margaret Ann, and Edwin. James M. was a bricklayer. When Edwin was quite young, the family decided to immigrate to New York City. Margaret had been offered a job working with her sister at a home of a well-to-do woman. She would be the housekeeper for this woman.

In 1881, just when the family was prepared to head for New York, James took a fall and broke his leg. Margaret would lose the job if she didn’t continue to New York City, so she took Edwin and traveled to New York without James, James D., and Margaret Ann.

In the course of time, letters were exchanged. Supposedly, James M.’s housekeeper, who liked James, wrote to Margaret that they were having an affair. Margaret accused James of this. James, in a stubborn Irish way, insisted that she come home and see for herself that it was not true. She refused to do that. When she stopped writing, James got worried and decided to come to America himself. James M. left England for New York with his older brother Martin, James D., and Margaret Ann. They headed to New York City to find Margaret and Edwin. (Tradition says his father Thomas also came and died on the voyage but there has never been any evidence of this.)

When they arrived in New York City, Margaret was nowhere to be found. The people at the house where she had been working told him she’d left. There was no forwarding address, and no sign of her or Edwin anywhere. James took his children and went with his brother Martin to Indiana, where his other brother, Patrick, lived.

His daughter Margaret Ann married Charles Edwin Wilson in 1888, bore him five children, including John William Wilson in 1891, and died in 1895. John William Wilson later had a daughter named Helen Ruth.

For the rest of James M. Simon’s life, he pursued his quest to find Margaret. He hired private detectives to search for her. All was in vain. He never found her. He died in 1927. Grandma Benac says she remembers the day of his funeral. His dog “Old Vick” lay on the porch by the front door after his death and refused to let anyone enter the house.

But what happened to his wife, his Margaret?

Book Tag

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Jessica tagged me with this:

1. Grab the nearest book (at least 123 pages)
2. Turn to page 123.
3. Find the 5th sentence.
4. Post said sentence on your blog.
5. Tag five people.

The book nearest me is Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri. I just finished it. It is a book of short stories, so this sentence of dialogue doesn’t make much sense out of the blue: “You are wiser than that, Eliot.”

In a sense, each short story in this book is about a person who feels isolated and lonely. In this story, the 30-year-old woman from India feels lonely away from her family. In this sentence, she is telling the ten-year-old boy that she can tell he already knows that he will be alone in his life. He is wiser than she is because he expects to be alone; she doesn’t.

I tag Paige and Liz (but only if you want to participate). I think you are the only people who read my blog that have a blog and haven’t already been tagged. If you read this, you have a blog, and you haven’t been tagged, consider yourself tagged: and let me know that you are reading!

Growing up with Pooh

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Paul has gone outgrown two different sizes of Newborn diapers and the Infant diapers. Now he is a Crawler. Each diaper has Winnie-the-Pooh and a friend on it.

When I change his diaper, sometimes I tell him the story on it: “Pooh was walking along in the Hundred Acre Wood when he met Eeyore…” We’ve been reading The Complete Tales and Poems of Winnie-the-Pooh together (thank you Grandma Peggy!), which includes the story books, Winnie-the-Pooh and The House at Pooh Corner, and two books of poetry, When We Were Very Young and Now We Are Six. I don’t particularly like the poems—I feel like A.A. Milne’s poetry is a bit forced. I much prefer the poetry of Robert Louis Stevenson, which Grandma Sorenson sent Paul for Christmas. However, I love the stories of Winnie-the-Pooh.

Each chapter of the novels is self-contained story, and while we sometimes don’t get through the entire chapter, it really is a good length for reading out loud. I read it aloud while Paul kicks and plays on his blanket. Someday, he’ll look at the illustrations as I read.

We finished Winnie-the-Pooh and now we are almost finished with The House at Pooh Corner. We have just one more chapter, “Chapter Ten: In Which Christopher Robin and Pooh Come to an Enchanted Place, and We Leave Them There.” I am horribly sad because I know what comes: Christopher Robin says good-bye as he leaves for school. How sad it is that childhood must end, that doing nothing must end!

When it was raining the other day, I sang Paul “The rain rain rain came down down down.” As I did so, I realized that he’s never seen the movie! I started in that scene. Paul was fascinated to watch the computer screen. We got through about ten minutes before he was ready for something else.

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I enjoy the movie. I think it is great fun, and I look forward to introducing my son to that Pooh Bear too. However, I’m very disappointed now that I’ve read the books because I think the Winnie-the-Pooh created by A.A. Milne is a great character. Disney made Pooh into a bear that is always a Bear of Very Little Brain. In the stories, Pooh is a poetry-reciting, trying-hard-to-think Bear of Very Little Brain. In the stories, he has some adventures where he actually thinks. It’s amazing when he comes up with the ideas, but he does on occasion. I like both Winnie-the-Poohs, but I especially like the one I’m reading about. It’s too bad Disney felt the need to change the character, even slightly.

(Also, the Christopher Robin in the books would never say “What’s up?” as he does in the movie. He’s 100% British and he’s classic—I don’t think boys in 1920 said “What’s up?”! The Christopher Robin in the book is timeless. “What’s up?”does not sound timeless to me. And it just doesn’t sound like Christopher Robin. Why did they change him?)

Is anyone aware of another classic novel for children, in which each chapter is a self-contained adventure and the characters are creative, timeless, and delightful? I realize I can keep reading Winnie-the-Pooh to Paul (he won’t remember anyway), but I wish there were other similar adventures to read next. I miss Pooh already!

I Love General Conference

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I haven’t been reading many books or posting on my blog much this week. I’ve been distracted.

It began Sunday morning at 4:30 a.m.

As all of you were sitting down for 10 a.m. General Conference Saturday morning, I was asleep. It was 2 a.m. Sunday morning. My son awoke at 4:30 a.m., and after attending to his needs and putting him back in bed, I decided I couldn’t wait until next Saturday: I wanted to know who the newest Apostle was. I went online and found out.

D. Todd Christopherson, I read. How exciting! I thought.

I decided I wanted to hear how it was announced. Then I remembered that it was not even 5 a.m. I had to leave for church at 7:45 a.m., and I needed to stay awake during Sacrament meeting. So I went back to bed.

We went to church and came home. When we got home, I started to watch the first session. I am so grateful for the Internet! I could watch the solemn assembly Sunday afternoon in my living room. It was so special. I loved watching it, but I didn’t watch the whole session: there were other things to do.

Monday afternoon, what should appear in my feed reader but all of the mp3 files for the audio of four sessions of General Conference. I subscribed to the feed in December and promptly forgot about it, since, of course, it is only updated twice a year.

I couldn’t wait until Saturday. I listened to President Monson’s talks, then President Eyring’s and President Uchdorf’s talks. They were so excellent, and I was so inspired, so I listened to the rest of it, reverse alphabetically as it appeared in my feed reader. (I listened in reverse because President Thomas S. Monson was the last alphabetically and I wanted to start with him.) I did a lot as I listened’care for my son, work on photographs, etc. So I wasn’t just sitting around.

It has been great. I feel so uplifted and ready to be better. But I guess that’s the key: listening isn’t making me any better. I need to do what I’m learning! Listening doesn’t do any good for the world.

My favorites the first time around:

  • President Uchdorf’s talk (the faith of our Father, our Heavenly Father)
  • Elder Child’s talk on tithing
  • Elder Ballard’s talk to the young mothers
  • Elder Bednar’s talk on prayer
  • Elder Oaks’s talk on testimony
  • Elder Zwick’s talk on fortifying yourself

Which were your favorites?

I get to listen and watch all of them again Saturday and Sunday. (We need to be there this weekend.) What do I do for eight hours Saturday and Sunday as I watch them? I’m going to be sitting on an uncomfortable bench in the chapel.

Ah well; I’ll be inspired all over again. I love general conference!

Paul’s New Tricks

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Grandma Peggy asked what new tricks Paul’s been learning. I had to think about that. Because I’m around him every day, it’s hard to pin down what’s new that I haven’t shared with you.

Paul sleeps. Paul has been sleeping for seven or eight hours at a time at night! That’s a great new trick. The problem remains that it begins at 7 p.m. (which, now that Daylight Savings Time ended, is now 6 p.m.). I wake him and feed him at 10 or 11 before I go to sleep; he still wakes up at 2 and cries for a while, but the crying is getting less; he tends to go back to sleep until 6 (or 5). I look forward to the day when he sleeps from 7 til 10 and then from 10 until 6 without waking.

Paul reaches. While he has always expressed an interest in things around him, lately he reaches for anything he sees and thinks he can reach—the piece of paper on the desk, the scriptures in my lap at church, the speck of ? on the floor, the silverware in my hand as I eat. When he’s on the floor and sees a toy across the blanket, he stretches and tries to get it. Most of the time, he is successful. Occasionally, he gets frustrated and decides he can’t reach it. No crawling yet (thank goodness) but definite development in the reaching department.

Paul sits. If I help him, he’ll stay in a sitting position for nearly 20 seconds before he falls over—and he falls over every direction. He’s getting better every day. I suspect that if I keep helping him now, he’ll figure out how to sit up all by himself in a few weeks.

Paul reads. Paul likes to pick up his book and try to turn the pages, although even the board book pages are a bit too hard to turn. He also likes to eat the books, just like in the picture I showed you last week.

Paul is such a happy and delightful little boy. We are so grateful that he is a part of our lives!