Many years ago, I taught first graders. It was an exciting adventure to meet those eager cherubic faces every day.

I have reached the ripe old age where my stories sound like trudging through knee-deep snow uphill both ways, but back in the old days, life was hard. 

OK – it is 2023 and I’m not perfect yet. That’s alright. No one would like me if I was. I found that out when I was perfect.

When I was growing up, back in the ice age, moral stories were common and children understood them. 

Back in the old days, before the internet and the media, there was time to sit and watch the sunset on the porch swing. There was time to notice the budding of new flowers and the coming of spring.

Church leader Thomas Monson said, “God left us the world unfinished for man to work his skill upon. He left the electricity in the cloud, the oil in the earth.

When I was a child, I walked through my mother’s garden with a sense of awe and wonder. The velvet emerald grass spread under the Chinese Elm trees and lilac bushes.

This year, why not focus on relationships instead of self-improvement? Why not try to help someone else find the joy we are seeking?

The jingle and jangle of Christmas is in the air. Shoppers scan the internet, duck in and out of shopping centers, rack their brains and check their wallets looking for the perfect gifts to give on Christmas morning to make the holiday magical in the economic downturn.

“What if we woke up in the morning to find only the things we expressed gratitude for in our prayers the night before?” That meme on Facebook caused me to reflect on my own state of gratitude.