MARY POPPINS WAS A CANNIBAL

When one of my granddaughters was four years old she loved to sing. One day her mom was listening to her and did a double take. This is what she heard:

"A spoonful of sugar makes the Mexican go down, Mexican go down, Mexican go down.

"Just a spoonful of sugar makes the Mexican go down, in the most delightful way."

And now you know the little known secret: Mary Poppins was a Cannibal.

A PERSONAL HISTORY STORY--BEING THE CHORISTER IN CHURCH

When I was growing up, our church chorister, Clara, was a woman with perfect posture who wielded the baton with precision. She often stopped singing but expected the audience to continue. Her lips would disappear into a thin line. Her baton would make jerky stabs in the air.

We must not be singing right, I thought. She's mad at us. I thought her baton stabbing movements were personal. She wants to hurt us.

When I was asked to be the chorister--in my Junior year of high school--I thought if I did nothing more than look pleasant and actually sing with the audience I would be ahead of the game. Looking pleasant wasn't all that hard, it was the singing with the audience that was perplexing.

This was because of a problem I've suffered with all my life: "Mind Wandering Disease." I would start out okay and then, about the third or fourth verse I suddenly couldn't remember if it were the third or the fourth verse because I was thinking about boys. There I was, the great musical leader, not knowing what words to sing.

Luckily there was a man in the audience who was a great enunciator. I, even with my feeble mind-wandering brain, could read his lips. He sat on the left side of the middle row, four rows up from the back. When I got in trouble I would immediately find him and then I'd know what verse we were on. Because of this man, I avoided ending the song after the third verse or expecting another verse after the last one.

It hadn't occurred to me until this very minute that maybe Clara--with all her thin-lipped behavior--may not have been mad at us at all. Maybe she lost track of what verse we were on too. Too bad she didn't have my secret weapon, the man four rows up from the back.

Which leads me to this conclusion: Do not judge.

And, as an added bonus: Don't assume other people are judging you. Their behavior may be a product of their having lost their way.

And one more thing: Be grateful for other people. That man never knew what a blessing he was to me. I should have told him. I can't even remember his name and yet he was an important part of my Sundays for two mind-wandering years.

I SANG ALTO TODAY AND I CAN'T SING ALTO

Today I sang alto, which amazed me because I don't know how. I've been a soprano all my life. But, today, for the first time in my life, I could sing alto.

My sister Patricia sang alto. Beautifully. I think she attended church with me today. It must have been her because I could find the alto notes and then, for the last song, they were gone. Naughty sister, didn't even stay around for the closing prayer.

When I get to Heaven I will ask to sing with her. I'll sing the soprano part and I'll bet I will be able to hit the high "E" again, effortlessly. I think we'll sound good together.

I miss her. I hope I can sing alto again.

SIX WORDS FOR MAMMA MIA

Singing, dancing, who's my dad?

CHRISTMAS PROGRAMS TONIGHT

Tonight we went to our granddaughter, Kate's preschool Christmas program. There were eleven little girls, dressed up in their Sunday best. They filed in and sat on big-people chairs with little legs sticking straight out. They wore black tights, white tights, one wore red tights covered in white snowflakes and one little miss had on legwarmers that matched her patterned sweater.

They each had a "part" to say at the microphone, our Kate welcomed us. They sang songs from Sweden, Germany, Hawaii, Mexico, and the United States of America. They had simple costume changes, and once had lighted candles--battery operated. The lights in the room were turned off. As soon as that happened one little girl got the giggles. Kate led the group and walked into the microphone. BONK! Then they all followed her in a line around the audience with their candles, they were singing all the way.

The songs were sweet. One little girl didn't as much sing as yell. One started off the evening with the sulks and slumped in her chair, her head pulled into her sweater like a turtle. Some were distracted and looked around as if they had never seen a room with walls and a ceiling before. One decided she had an itch and proceeded to scratch all over her tummy, which she bared so she could attend to it better. They told us their names and ages, most were four with one six-year-old and one announced she was "free."

We mainly watched Kate, who did an interesting interpretation of the hula to one of the Hawaiian songs. She didn't so much as use her hands in expressive movements as pat her body from side to side. When one of the songs had the line, "you better not pout," she had an expressive, "and if you do pout you are going to be in big trouble" face. She was practicing to be a mom, I'm pretty sure. She has beautiful large eyes, an engaging smile and confidence that the rest of us would do well to have at any age.

As soon as the program was over we hugged everyone--well, the family members anyway, and dashed to our church house as we were late for our Ward Christmas party. We shouldn't have worried. Our Ward was operating on Mormon Standard Time, which is "always a few minutes late." We missed the caroling but were in time for dinner. I took a salad, a variation of my Poppy Seed one (I'll post it on my cookbook site). I guess it turned out okay as I got a request for the recipe from yet another one of the beautiful women in our ward. I tell you, our neighborhood is full of beautiful woman. This one looks like a Russian princess and she might be. Her ancestors are indeed Russian.

The Primary children were all dressed up as members of the nativity. They sat in rows on the stage and sang song after song about the birth of the Savior. There were boys with towels draped over their heads, tied with cord or twine . One boy had a turban on his head that was unbelievable in its magnificence, one had a crown. There were angels, at least two Mary's (one whose real name is Mary) with baby Jesus dolls wrapped in baby blankets. The Primary presidency had supplied halo's made of tinsel to all who wanted them. The girls held their heads high so not to disturb the perfection. The boys took their halos off and twirled them on fingers.

After the Primary kids the Young Men and Young Women did several numbers with bells. It was reverent and beautiful.

After the youth, a couple, who sing like professionals--actually they almost are professionals, sang some carols that I had not heard before. They are happy and in love and made us feel like they were in love with us too.

He played the accordion, which I think was my Dad's. It belongs to my son but he Lent it to Eric--my son is Eric's wife's niece's husband. How's that for confusing? We're all just one happy family here. One day I will tell you how Trent got to become Eric's wife's niece's husband. A real love story and I was the matchmaker. The best success I ever had and the luckiest day of Trent's life.

The whole evening was delightful. Family, all watching the littlest member sing and walk into a microphone and conduct herself with regal confidence. Good food with friends all around. Wonderful innocent children and the youth, so clean and happy and anxious to read the music and ring their bells at the right time. Beautiful carols, sung about Mary and Joseph and the baby, born in the stable.

I looked around the cultural hall, filled with tables full of people, most of which I know pretty well. I had an overwhelming feeling that I was good friends with each of them in Heaven. Good friends with the children who I don't know very well since I don't work in the Primary any more. I felt like we laughed and learned and shared our lives and we should love each other here. It was a tender gift, given to me for just a few moments. An exquisite feeling of joy. I am content.

SUNDAY WITH FRIENDS

Last night we were invited to two friend's homes to do the same thing--light an advent candle and sing Christmas songs. The second invitation came from our neighbors, The C's who went to the house the first invitation came from (the P's) last year. If this keeps up--each family that is invited to the P's house will be starting new traditions--there won't be anyone left to invite.

It was a wonderful evening. There were fourteen of us, three were children and so they wandered in and out. We sat around the table and choose a song to sing--twice. We sang everything from "Up On the Housetop" to songs from the 40's to sacred religious and children's religious hymns. The P's newlywed boy and his bride were there with young love's glow. He sang beautifully and set the pitch. Another couple have been married only eight months and I noticed they sang to each other a lot--there was a lot of young love nestling in.

After singing we had a plethora of savory and sweet treats and all kinds of flavors of hot chocolate. It was a wonderful way to end a Sunday evening. Good friends, good food and songs about the Savior's birth.