...I think that believing in something that seems unbelievable can be the first step of faith. In cultivating the idea that someone really does watch the good things you do, someone really does notice when you make good choices, I believe we are planting the seeds that can, with age and increased knowledge of the Plan, develop into faith in a loving Father in Heaven. Traditional characteristics of St. Nick parallel many attributes of our Heavenly Father: He “knows if you’ve been bad or good,”[1] He is giving and He cares about His children as individuals.
Santa Claus is not a person so much as he is an idea. He personifies caring, love, service and miracles. It was wondrous to my young mind that a red-clad jolly old elf would slide down my chimney to deliver gifts; it is even MORE wonderful to my adult heart and mind that my Savior would “descend from His throne divine to rescue a soul so rebellious and proud as mine.”[2] Both scenarios are beyond comprehension: miraculous and special. That the life of my Savior is also sacred is testimony that came to me AFTER a childhood of believing in things I couldn’t yet understand. In my mind, the idea of ‘Santa’ found its true root in Jesus Christ.
So, I will continue to encourage my young Santa believers. When they are older I’m certain to tell them the real story of Santa: the legend born from the life of a charitable Saint. But, I hope that their willingness to believe, exhibited as small children, can grow into FAITH in that which is even more wondrous and sacred: the mission of Jesus Christ. I hope that the practice of believing can translate into active faith: faith in the love of their Father in Heaven, the eternal and redemptive power of the Atonement of the Savior, and a desire to create ‘Santa Claus Magic’ in the lives of those around them through service and good works.
I BELIEVE it will.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------[1] “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” by J. Fred Coots and Henry Gillespie, 1934[2] Hymns of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, 193, “I Stand All Amazed,” by Charles H. Gabriel

Who knew rice pudding could be so decadently good?! Well Becky and Joanne knew it and they shared with us..."Rice To Riches" If you look close you'll notice everything has the oval shape of a piece of rice. I suppose if you ate there as regularly as I would have liked , I could even look like that oval little rice shape too!

My faves:

Reasons to LOVE NY

I'm invisible..... It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?" Obviously not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible.

Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?" I'm a car to order, "Pick me up right around 5:30, please."

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude -- but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going ... she's going ... she's gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a banana clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this."

It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe . I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees."

In the days ahead I would read -- no, devour -- the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals -- we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it."

And the workman replied, "Because God sees."

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.

I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand-bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there."

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
This excerpt is from Nicole Johnson's novel The Invisible Woman (W Publishing Group, 2005) . For more information, check out the author's Web site at www.freshbrewedlife.com.

Elder Boyd K. Packer said it. Something about how the Brethren are just folks. He told the great story about the sister who threw a rock when everyone else was throwing flowers in the path of Brigham Young’s carriage and shouted something like, “He’s no better than my great-uncle Mortimer!” Or some name to that effect. Elder Packer wasn’t particularly offended at that bizarre behavior, because she may have been right, which was the whole point.

Thinking of President Eyring brings me to what this column is about, Humans in Conference. I mean the Brethren, President Eyring, for example. When his emotions are about to break, he usually hides it with a smile. I’ve seen many women, some of whom seem quite unsilly in other ways, begin waving their hands as though fanning their ears when an emotional break threatens. President Eyring smiles. Sometimes we smile when we’re embarrassed. I wondered if maybe President Eyring, though, smiles involuntarily just because being moved around by the Spirit at the expense of his poise pleases him. I think that’s it. Really human, in a good way.

The Priesthood Session brought a couple of other nice humanities out where they could be seen and enjoyed. At the end of his quite wonderful prepared remarks, President Monson was drawn off-script by the red hair adorning a father and son in the priesthood choir. I love it when he goes off-script. It’s like if an actor playing Moses goes off script and you suddenly realize, “Oh! He actually is Moses!” That was one. Here’s another:

My son Sam asked me if I’d ever seen a Prophet in a sweater before. I admitted I hadn’t. (Once Elder L. Tom Perry came to a play I was in — came to see his grandniece-in-law — and was wearing a sweater under his suit jacket. But in the meeting, both Sam and I were struck by the fact that the President of the Church was wearing a sweater under his suit jacket. This was very much a matter of sartorial addition rather than subtraction, because the dark suit was there, the white shirt was there, the conservative tie was there, and the sweater was black. Anybody who’s ninety-seven years old has the unassailable right to fortify himself against the coming of Autumn, but it was just downright humanizing to see that sweater.

What about Elder Wirthlin, who began practically to expire at the pulpit? His testimony of charity was born as eloquently by him as by Elder Nelson, who had sprung to his side to hold him up. The weaker Elder Wirthlin got, the stronger he became. Had he, indeed, passed away while bearing that testimony, I have to think he’d have been sealed up to glory in the very act of doing the most human thing any of us will ever do.

Probably, other glimpses of our leaders’ “plain and precious parts” moved you. I guess we go to conference hoping to experience divinity, not humanity. Still, it’s so comforting and encouraging and friendly to drink the water of life from earthen vessels.

Marvin Payne is a professional actor, wordcrafter, songwriter, and recording artist.http://marvinpayne.com/

Here's some pic's of our time in paradise, do I need to say more? Okay first off we went to a wonderful luau: OLD LAHAINA LUAU (http://www.oldlahainaluau.com/index_main.html) Definitely worth the admission--We vote it the BEST luau we've gone to, and we've been going to all of them for the last 7 years or so.

Next is one of the many rainbows we saw. This one right in front of our condo!

Then Miss Karen & Linda posing at Honolua Bay...

For those unfamiliar with our church, we have a naming ceremony, since we don't baptize children under the age of eight. It is a time when the child is presented to the congregation, and essentially all of the congregants take responsibility for the spiritual education, along with the parents. We are a "lay" church, and all of the Sunday School and other teaching assignments are handled by everyone there. So eventually these people who welcome this new baby into the church are taking stewardship in helping to instruct this child in the tenets of the church. It is a beautiful rite that surrounds a new baby with this loving community.

Nora in her blessing dress

Boyer/ Johnson Dynasty.... Johnson Familia Three generations/oops make that FOUR: Grt Grandma Doris, Sue, Joe and Nora

grammy helping out with Nora
sleeping peacefully like only a 4 day old can!

Amy and baby Nora just hours old!