For more information on this topic read “Mothers Teaching Children in the Home,” by L. Tom Perry, Ensign, May 2010, 29–31.
Teaching in the home is becoming increasingly important in today’s world, where the influence of the adversary is so widespread and he is attacking, attempting to erode and destroy the very foundation of our society, even the family.
(L. Tom Perry, “Mothers Teaching Children in the Home,” Ensign, May 2010, 29–31.)
“Love at Home,” Hymns, #294.
Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it. (Proverbs 22:6)
A pot, a large serving spoon, a delicate goblet or glass, and a small teaspoon.
Begin by taking the large spoon and banging the pot loudly several times. Then take the teaspoon and carefully tap the glass, producing a delicate ringing sound. Point out that nagging, criticizing, shouting, and name-calling are much the same as banging the pot. They hurt our ears and make us want to avoid the sounds as much as possible. In contrast, the tinkling sound of the glass can be compared to cheerfulness, encouragement, and displays of love. Those pleasant sounds are appealing and encourage the listener to yearn for more. Explain that through controlling our voice and attitude we can make our home a haven where family members desire to be.
(Beth Lefgren and Jennifer Jackson, Object Lessons Made Easy, [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 2010], p. 65.)
Every fall the builders and mortgage companies in our area sponsor what they call a Parade of Homes. This is not a parade in the traditional sense. They don’t put a bunch of houses on floats and march them up and down the street. Rather, people march from house to house to look at the latest in home styles, floor plans, furnishings, and other assorted features.
This is one of Anita’s favorite things to do. She says she’s gathering ideas for decorating the house we will one day build. She loves to dream about that house. That’s probably why we call it “the dream house.” She’s got it all planned, right down to the last screw in the last piece of drywall. The only thing she hasn’t figured out yet is how to get the money to pay for it.
I, on the other hand, enjoy the Parade of Homes for another reason: if I’m good and don’t whine too much while Anita drags me from house to house to house, she lets me pick out which fast food restaurant we go to for dinner. This year, I even learned a few things while dutifully—and non-whiningly—marching in the Parade:
• Mauve is out, sage is in (I am saddened by this, not because I have an affinity for mauve, but because I have finally figured out what color mauve actually is; sage, on the other hand, is . . . well, it’s not mauve).
• There is no way to delicately describe the use and function of a bidet to an inquisitive 7-year-old boy (we finally settled on “it’s a little sink to spit in”—this lie will, of course, be the one bit of instruction from his youth that he will actually remember, and it will probably lead to an international incident fifty years from now when he is ambassador to France. By then, with any luck, I’ll be dead.)
• Believe it or not, there is such a thing as too much house (especially if the predominant decorative color in said house is red).
• Every house should have the following cool stuff built right in: a spiral slide, a bathroom magazine rack, an aquarium wall, a lap pool, a vacuum, and a home theater system larger than the one at the local multiplex.
• No matter how big or fancy or fully loaded the house is, there’s still no place like home.
This last point became clear to me as we returned home from a full day of parading through houses. We had seen some lovely places, including one that . . . well, what’s the next level beyond a dream house? An obsessive-compulsive house? These were great houses, filled with incredible furnishings and enhanced with magnificent landscaping. And yet as we pulled into the driveway of our cute little house, with its well-worn carpet, too-small kitchen, leaky plumbing, and not-quite-green-not- quite-brown (hey, it’s sage!) lawn, I knew I was where I belong, and I was glad to be home.
Few concepts are so sweetly significant to humans as the concept of home. Whether we live in a showplace or a shanty, our home is at the heart of our most profound experiences, good and bad. As children, we are shaped and molded in the home and then sent out to build homes of our own. As parents, we try to make a good home for our children, knowing perfectly well that it will never be good enough, or strong enough, or safe enough, or secure enough. We build the best home we can—physically, spiritually, emotionally—we furnish it with love and then we pray that God will make up the difference. Our homes are therefore sanctified by our work, our love, our tears, and our prayers. That’s what makes it the most sacred place on earth.
With or without the parade.
(Joseph Walker, Look What Love Has Done, [Salt Lake City, Shadow Mountain, 2007], p. 36.)
Gather a number of toothpicks in one hand and drop them on the table. Have each person take a turn picking them up one by one with another toothpick or their fingers. If a player moves a stick he is not picking up, his turn is over. The one with the most toothpicks wins.
(Alma Heaton, The LDS Game Book, [Salt Lake City, Bookcraft, 1968], p. 101.)
Chocolate Almond Balls
- 1 (8 oz.) chocolate bar with almonds
- 1 (8 oz.) tub frozen whipped topping, thawed to room temperature
- 30 vanilla wafers, crushed
Melt chocolate bar in top of a double boiler. Cool slightly (don’t let it become cold). Stir in thawed whipped topping. Using heaping teaspoonfuls of candy, shape into balls and roll in vanilla wafer crumbs. Keep in freezer for two hours before serving. Store in freezer. Makes about 4 dozen.
Note: For variety, roll balls in candy sprinkles, coconut, or chopped nuts.
(Lion House Christmas, [Salt Lake City: Shadow Mountain, 2006], p. 134.)
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