The End of the Mormon Miracle Pageant

I wasn't in the very first Mormon Miracle Pageant in 1967, but I came on the scene in 1970 when my family moved from Haddon Heights, New Jersey to Manti, Utah.

Now it's 2019 and the pageant is over.

Bob gave Carolyn and me a good-bye Pageant squeeze!

 My arms weren't quite long enough to get a very wide-framed picture of me, Andy, and Bob with Pageant props in the background. (What ARE they going to do with all those fake rocks, I wonder?)

Andy made a pretty good security guy before he played the role of the Savior in his home-grown beard.

Once we found seats, we saved them with a sign our son wrote that says: "RESERVED FOR JOSEPH SMITH'S GRANDPARENTS. Seriously, their son's son is playing mature Joseph tonight and they'd appreciate it if you let them sit here to watch. Thanks."

 We even got pictures with some of the cast members! 

(Our grandchildren, and nephew, Jonathan, who's not a cast member this year, but was in years past.) 

 Bob helped Carolyn stand on a chair so she could see how many people were in the audience.

 Our sister Rebecca was there, too!

 I took a picture for the family album of Andy in costume "descending" to the people in the Americas.

 It was a good run, Mormon Miracle Pageant!

I know some people are sad the pageant is over, but, hey, even the dinosaurs didn't live forever.

I used to miss old things much more than I do now that I've learned that things change. It's much more rewarding to look forward to what's next instead of getting a neck ache twisting around to stare back at the past.

Do you like change?

Or do you prefer things to stay the same?

It's not just what he says, it's HOW HE SAYS IT!

THIS GUY AMAZED ME! He made me laugh when I was so depressed I didn't want to leave my room (yeah, I get that way sometimes)...it's not just what he says, it's how he says it! And he made me think, "Do I want to be like him when I'm 93?" (Answer: Oh, yeah!) I challenge you to take 15 minutes to see if a 93 year old man can inspire you. (I don't necessarily mean the first couple of minutes when he tells about getting squished against a tall lady in a crowded room. It began for me with him rowing a boat at the age of 91) but you should hear him tell it!

Swimming Sideways

My son, Brian, got himself a couple of cute little pacu fish, no bigger than a dime. I bought Brian a fourteen gallon aquarium to go with them. You could hardly see the little guys in all that water.
But then something happened... Brian fed his pacu pair. And they grew. A lot. Those darling little punctuation marks turned into candidates for deep sea fishing. They probably measured about a foot long each, but they wouldn't hold still long enough for us to make sure. One thing we were sure of was that their tank was too small. They'd flick their tails and bump their noses on the glass, then execute a tight about-face and flick their tails once to find themselves bumping noses on the opposite pane of glass.
So we got them a bigger tank. But now the question arose, how are we going to move them? They wouldn't fit in any net that our pet store had, and Brian nixed the idea of a fishing pole and bait. What to do?
Big brother Zackary came up with the solution to scoop the fish out with a plastic gallon jug. It seemed the perfect solution for everyone but the pacu's. Once Zack cornered one and scooped it into the pitcher, it thrashed and fought like a maniac. After a startled pause, Zack finally poured the fish into the larger tank, where it promptly lay on its side and flipped its tail, swimming crookedly across its new expansive home.
The fellow's friend got the same treatment and acted the same way, we don't know if it was peer pressure or what. They both swam sideways, back and forth, back and forth, for several minutes. Bored of waiting, and without any signs of synchronized swimming moves, I left the room. The next time I checked on them, the fish went spastic, swimming like the water was on fire. (Well, you know what I mean.) So I turned off the aquarium light and left them alone for awhile.
Now the two are in fish tank heaven. (No, they didn't die.) They can flip their tails at least four times before bumping into the glass wall. They're swimming straight, and they can even go up and down if they feel like playing submarine.
I think that a lot of us swim sideways when we're thrown into a new situation, even if it's for our ultimate good. It feels like we're in someplace too big, too different, too scary. But soon enough we'll gain a clearer perspective of where we really are, and realize that we can go faster and further than we ever have before.
I say, bring on the big fish!