For Lucy

Oh, my girl, there's so much to write.  And I'm so out of the habit.  But that's no reason to give up, is it??

It should be on the record that you turned ten.  10!  And while those double digits startle me a bit, they do suit you rather well.  "I perceive that thou art a sober child, and art quick to observe."  Ammeron's description of ten year old Mormon is really a very good description of you too.  There's still plenty of silly mixed in with the sober (and I hope you hang on to it!).  But we've had so many talks in the last few months that have left me marveling at your thoughtfulness.  I pray a lot for help to be a good mother to you.  And I pray a lot that Heaven will intercede where I fall short.  But I mostly offer prayers of gratitude that my life is blessed daily by your strength and sweetness.  

Your birthday in May was such a good, happy day.

I checked you out of school for an hour at lunchtime and we walked through the Payson temple for the third time together, knowing the open house would be ending the following weekend.

We smiled, and chatted, and you held my hand (you're sometimes reluctant to hold hands anymore.  I try not to cry about that.  But it's hard! ;).  We talked about being in the temple again on your twelfth birthday. What a truly lovely thing to look forward to.

After school, I secretly tucked four of your friends into the very backseat of our van before pulling around the school to collect you.  You jumped into the middle seat and we visited happily about your day for a minute or two.  Then as I veered the car away from school, your friends popped up and startled you with merry cheers of Happy Birthday!!  You were so surprised and delighted, even more so when I pulled into the movie theater and passed around tiaras for you and your friends to wear to a showing of Cinderella.

I loved sitting next to all of you in that nearly empty theater.  I loved hearing your excitement and seeing your sweet smiles as the story progressed.  Cinderella is my favorite movie of the year, of the past many years, probably, so it was a no-brainer for your birthday.  

After the show, we added Spencer to our carload (he'd been playing with a friend), and came home to throw a Papa Murphy's pizza in the oven.

Don't be fooled by Spud's mock embarrassment.  If it was possible that anyone had more fun than you that night, it was definitely him.  You and he and all the girls had a ball making up dances and skits while our pizza baked.  Then, around the table as we ate, we had a sweet little exchange about the theme of the movie.  Each of us shared a memory of something kind someone had done for us that had impacted our lives, and then we talked about different times when we had to show courage.  I was really touched by some of the experiences you and your friends brought to the table that night.

Then candle-blowing, etc.  Your friends oohed and aahed about the glass slipper atop your cupcake tower, but you and I both knew that it wasn't new.  You fingered it fondly and we shared a smile remembering our first (magical!) trip to Disneyland when you were five.

When the girls left, Spencer excitedly passed you a few gifts to open.

Plenty to read, of course.  And one more tiny glass slipper to add to your collection or to wear around your neck.  

I love that message.  I think it's a beautiful summation of our baptismal covenants and it's the message I hope will surface again and again in your mind as you go through life.  

Have courage to be a witness of the goodness of God.  Have courage to choose faith in a world where evidence is, by design, not exactly conclusive,  where trials, and injustices, and heartaches are, by design, abundant.  

A few weeks after your birthday we participated in the dedication of our beautiful backyard temple. 

It was such a lovely day.  You and Spud and I made a batch of sugar cookie dough before the dedication service, and afterward, we used our halloween haunted house cookie cutter as a temple template (???) and had a fun, floury time rolling out, and cutting, and baking together.  We ate dinner while the cookies cooled, and then we frosted them, adding a little golden "Moroni" candy to the top of each "spire." 

It was a stretch.  But you were a sport.  You loved sprinkling the white crystal sprinkles on each cookie, and there was a happy feeling as we worked and visited together.  But as we got close to finishing, there were a few moments of quiet, after which you asked, suddenly, "Do you ever feel like someone is missing?"

I looked at you sharply.  "Like Dad??"  I asked.
You nodded, emotion playing on your face,  "Sometimes...I feel so cozy and happy, and then I..........just don't."  You could barely get those last two words out before the tears came.
"I know,"  I said as I rounded the counter and caught you in my arms.  "I know."

Spencer didn't say anything as we girls stood there quietly crying together, he just slid across the countertop and put his arms around both of us.

That little session of emotion didn't last long.  We dried our eyes, and finished our decorating, and you happily delivered cookies around the neighborhood.  As I watched you, I was proud of your courage.  Continue to be courageous, my darling girl.

And of course, of course, of course, be kind.  Grandma Packer used to recite, 

I have wept in the night 

For the shortness of sight 

That to somebody's need made me blind

But I never have yet

Felt a tinge of regret

For being a little too kind

I relate so much to that sentiment.  Especially the weeping!  You already have a kind nature, Lucy.  Cultivate it.  Mourn with those that mourn.  Comfort those that stand in need of comfort.  You will often fall short in your efforts.  But you will also often bless others without even realizing it (like you blessed me last night with a strong, comforting hug just as I was on the brink of a melt down.  Moments like that matter a lot.)  A teacher once helped me realize the word kind's relation to the work kin (duh!), and I loved the implication that treating people with kindness really means remembering our familial relationship to each other as children of God.   

That being said, how ironic that its sometimes hardest to be kind within our own mortal family relationships!  Like how you and Spencer are supposed to be folding laundry right now in the other room, but instead you're neeeeeedling each other incessantly.  Hmmmm ;)  But there truly are many moments when I see you treat him (and me!) with admirable kindness and patience, and we both sure love you!

Have a wonderful year, my sweet ten year old princess!