Happy Mother

When my children were small, and I was surrounded by mess and noise, I remember thinking often of how unhappy I felt.

Then one day I read simple story about mother buttoning her child’s coat. The mother's jaw was set, her lips pursed, her movements clipped and hard. I thought, how sad for that child that her mother was so unhappy, and seemed unhappy about being a mother.

I decided then and there I would not do that to my children; that they would see a happy mother, and one that was happy to be a mother.

Of course there still ensued many moments of frustration, anger, and unhappiness.

But in making that decision, I actually was happier, and more grateful, and happy to be a mother.

I hope when my children looked into my face, that they saw I was glad to be a mom, that I was happy to be their Mom.


Mother dear, I love you so,
Your happy smiling face
Is such a joy to look at;
It makes home a lovely place.

In Your Footsteps

Recently I came across this story:

With ten children every day was hectic. On this particular day, however, I was having trouble doing even routine chores—all because of one little boy.
Len, who was three at the time, was on my heels no matter where I went. Whenever I stopped to do something and turned back around, I would trip over him. Several times I patiently suggested fun activities to keep him occupied.
“Wouldn’t you like to play on the swing set?” I asked again. But he simply smiled an innocent smile and said, “Oh, that’s all right, Mommy. I’d rather be in here with you.” Then he continued to bounce happily along behind me.
After stepping on his toes for the fifth time, I began to lose my patience and insisted that he go outside and play with the other children. When I asked him why he was acting this way, he looked up at me with sweet green eyes and said, “Well, Mommy, in Primary my teacher told me to walk in Jesus’ footsteps. But I can’t see him, so I’m walking in yours.” (Davida Dalton as told to JoEllen Johnson, Ensign, April 1994)

I had a mother in whose footsteps I could follow. She wasn't perfect, but if I can walk the walk she did, I know I'll be on the right path. It sure made life easier.

In some ways, we are all like this little boy. We can't see Jesus, so we watch those we can see. We learn much of godliness from other people. Anne Madsen has said that most of what she has learned about Godhood she learned in her home.

We can and should learn of God from Him, by study and by revelation. There is none beside Him. He is incomparable.

But I have learned much of the divine from family and friends, from church leaders, and from saintly people I've heard or read about but never met.

I am grateful for what I have learned from others. Glad that I could walk side by side with saints. Glad that I could see up close the majesty of a righteous soul. Glad that I have rubbed shoulders with giants.

I'm grateful for footsteps I can follow.

I'm glad that I know you.

"You and I cannot hope to exert, even to a small degree, the personality of our great Teacher, Jesus Christ. Each one's personality may be to the Savior's only as one little sunbeam to the mighty sun itself; and yet, though infinitely less in degree, each personality should be the same in kind." --David O. McKay

I AM a Child of God

Today I thought about the very first spiritual experience that I remember having.

I was perhaps in the 8th grade, and I was sitting on the back row of the chapel during Fast and Testimony meeting. For once I was actually listening, when this feeling come over me. I can't explain it, but I felt that God was my Father, and that I was His daughter. It wasn't a feeling of knowlege that God lives, but a feeling of relatedness, that He really is my Father, that He knows me and loves me and cares about me. It was like He touched me on the shoulder to get my attention. I didn't just know that I was a child of God; I felt that relationship.


That's all. No big deal.
But to me it was. That feeling was permanently etched into my soul and has stayed with me all of my life.

I've always thought it significant that my first revelation was, that I am a daughter of God.

Maybe it's why I don't grow up: I feel always like a child, always in need of help and direction and wisdom.

I have found safety and security in knowing I have a Father who loves me, who watches out for me, who cares about what I do.

I have found purpose and meaning in knowing He sent me here for a reason.


All the days of my life I have been grateful that my Father revealed Himself to me when I was yet a girl.
Like a spoiled, selfish child, I have at times ignored and even defied Him.
But mostly I have tried to please Him.

I look forward to seeing Him again, to being held in His arms once more.

I hope it will bring a smile to His face, that I have tried to be a good girl.

"Nothing is going to startle us more when we pass through the veil to the other side than to realize how well we know our Father and how familiar his face is to us." --Ezra Taft Benson

Family Flag

Once we made a family flag.
How ten people ever agreed on how to make it, I'll never know.
This is my take on what we did and why:

Our family flag is green, and made to look like dollar bill.
We chose this because we felt rich. Oh, we didn’t have any money. But we felt wealthy in the things that mattered. And we knew there were promises of greater riches when we live righteously.

In the middle is a large circle with, not a government building, but a temple. Written in the white circle around the temple is the reason why: Sauter Family, established in 1972. That’s when and where our family began. It is also where we hope it will end. It is the center focus of our family to be an eternal family.

We made it a $10 bill because there’s 10 of us!

• In one corner there is a #10 with 10 faces peeking out of it.
• In another corner the #10 has a gold crown at the top. Ten represents perfection. When we rate things from one to ten, ten is the best, the most perfect. That is our goal, to be our best, to try to become perfect, even if it takes forever.
• In the bottom corner the #1 in the 10 is a music note, because we love to sing and play and listen to all kinds of music, and good music is important to our family.
• In the fourth corner the 0 in the #10 has the top of a head peeking over an open Book of Mormon, because we read the Book of Mormon as a family.

Across the top are the words "United Forever."

The serial number on the 'bill' is a stream of numbers that includes our birthdates.

On one side there is a red heart with a rainbow streaming out of it.
We are a mixed rainbow of personalities that love and are loved.
The rainbow also represents values close to our hearts, like faith, good works and integrity.
I added a scripture reference below the heart:
Proverbs 4:23 "Keep thy heart with all diligence; for out of it are the issues of life." Goodness comes from the inside out.

U.S. currency usually says "In God We Trust.' We believe that. We also believe its corollary: "God Trusts In Us." He has given us the freedom and means to be all that we can be, and He trusts us to use our blessings to help build His kingdom, and ours.


Like our flag, our family is unfinished and imperfect.
But we pledge allegiance to what it represents.

The flag is tucked away in a drawer somewhere.
I hope the values it symbolizes are still flying high.

Many are called, but some are bugged more

I got my first calling in the Church when I was 13 years old. I was Junior Sunday School chorister. At 15 I became Senior Sunday School chorister, and at 16 the Ward chorister. At 17 I was the Ward Dance Director. At 19 I directed a roadshow.
By this age none of my friends had callings yet.
Why me? I'm not sure.

I have held a calling almost continuously since high school. Some have been interesting:
Someone created a calling for me as Junior Assistant to the Stake Camp Director, where I got to plan, lead, travel and bunk with the stake adult camp leaders my last year of camp.
At BYU I was a visiting teacher to Alice Wilkinson, wife of Ernest L. Wilkinson, president of BYU, and she a member of the Relief Society General Board.
The next year I was Sunday School chorister under Stan Miller. He went on to compile the Especially for Mormons books. Stuff from my file is in his first book from when we worked on a program together.

I worked in Primary for many years, but the one calling I've never had is that of a Primary teacher. Go figure.

Some callings have been a leap of faith for me.
Many have changed my life.
One even changed my personality. (For the better, I hope.)
Many callings were hard, inconvenient, and soul-stretching, but every calling was a blessing.

One might say I just stayed home all my life and didn't really make anything of myself. They might be right.
But I believe that my varied church responsibilities have given me more opportunities to grow in different ways than a career would have done. The Lord has made more of me than I ever would have made of myself.

I have had more than my share of opportunites to speak and teach and serve; I have had more than my fair share of chances to be guided by the Spirit, to rub shoulders with giants, and to come to know the Lord.

It isn't fair, I know.

I too ask, Why me?

I don't know.

But I'm glad I answered the calls.



He who does God's work will get God's pay.

Peace and Quiet

I went to the temple today. It was quiet.
I mean, really quiet. Soundless, almost.
I knew the noisy world was going on outside, but as I sat in the Celestial Room I couldn't even detect the hum of an air conditioner.

I wondered how long I'd have to stay there to get that quiet on the inside.


It made me wonder what the Celestial Kingdom will be like. I feel sure it won't be anything at all like our noisy, chaotic world. No traffic jams, cell phones, music blasting or TVs blaring.


I've often wondered what that moment of death is like when you turn your back and walk away from this world, leaving behind demanding dayplanners, cluttered closets, cares and woes.
The silence must be deafening.
The freedom must be exhilarating.
The experience must be pure joy.

In the few minutes after my mother passed away, as we were standing around her bed, we all felt so happy for our mother.
We were happy for where she was, for what she was experiencing, and for who she was with.

I've told my children, Don't cry for me when I'm gone.
I will be happy--happier than I've ever been.
Cry for youself if you like.
But do not cry for me.

I'll be leaving this sad old world behind--
Droppin' it like a hot potato.
I'll be goin' Home.

And I know I'll see you there.


Goin' home, goin' home, I'm a-goin' Home.
Quiet-like, some still day, I'm jes' goin' home.

It's not far, jes' close by, through an open door;
Work all done, care laid by, goin' to fear no more.

Mother's there 'spectin' me, Father's waitin' too.
Lot's o' folks gathered there, all the friends I knew.

Nothin' lost; all's gain; no more fret nor pain.
No more stumbling on the way,
No more longin' for the day,
Goin' to roam no more!

Shadows gone, break of day,
Real life jes' begun.
Wide awake, with a smile,
goin' on and on.
I'm a- goin' Home.

(Song to be sung at my funeral, or I'll come back to haunt you!)


When you were born, you were crying
And everyone around you was smiling.
Live your life so at the end,
You’re the one who is smiling
And everyone around you is crying.

Look Up!

A few years ago I paid a visit to my native state of Washington.
The day I drove to the airport to return home was, even for Washington, especially dark and dreary. The cloud cover was thick and dense and almost black, and so low that I felt it was pressing my face down into a frown.

We boarded and the plane took off, and as it ascended it broke through the clouds---into blazing, brilliant white light, into heat and warmth, and into a view that went on forever! It literally took my breath away. I’m sure I audibly gasped at the drastic change.

When my eyes adjusted and I caught my breath again, I looked out the window, down to the ground below. Through the breaks in the clouds I could see cars driving and people going through their day.

It struck me how we live much of our lives under a cover of clouds, with limited vision, and sometimes in chilly dreariness.

I’ve never forgotten this experience. It helps me remember that though life seems dark and dreary, and we cannot see afar off,
that not very far away, not far at all, is the light and truth and glory of God, the warmth of His love, and a view of eternity.


So look up! and see what's really there.



“We will see that mortal things mattered so little, and eternal things mattered much more than even the most faithful imagined.”

--Neal A. Maxwell

You've Got Mail

Nary a Sunday goes by that we don't hear how we should read our scriptures every day. It was not so when I was growing up, but somehow I knew.

Finally, my junior year in college, I decided I would give it a try. I started with the Doctrine and Covenants; it seemed the easiest to read and understand. Every night I would read in my bed, but it wasn't really reading. My eyes would follow the words while my mind was thinking about other things.

I didn't get a lot out of that very casual reading, but there is one thing I got: converted.
I got a sure and absolute testimony of the gospel, free and independent of my parents. I knew for myself, without any doubt.
What great and generous blessings come from Heaven when we offer our little loaves and fishes of obedience.

The next couple of years I read a minimum of ten pages a day, including the Old Testament.

I haven't always kept up a regular reading schedule, but I have found that my life is palpably different when I am committed to reading.


When we pray, we speak to God.
When we read the scriptures, He speaks to us.

Someone put it this way:
"As I open the scriptures, I think, in a way, 'You've Got Mail.' And I wonder what God has to say to me today. Almost inevitably, I discover some scriptural note with my name on it--a specific message from a loving Savior and Father, hand-tucked into a stack of celestial memos pre-dating me but post-dated for my needs." Karen Merkley


Every day I check my e-mail for messages from people I love.
Every day I read my scriptures for messages from Above.

You might want to check.
I'll bet You've Got Mail.

Horace Papadopoulos

Horace Papadopoulos was the name of a very cute, very pink, stuffed hippopotamus. He lived above my head on the shelf of the waterbed, with a family of others like him of varying shapes and sizes. Horace had babies—four little hot pink ones-that fit snugly inside his soft tummy.

Before we had children, we collected hippopotami. It started with a stroll in the mall and a picture I just had to have to hang on my wall.

From there the hippo family grew, and provided some fun until we had children of our own.

Our children weren’t hot pink. And they weren’t named Horace or Obadiah. But they ended up in our bed just as often, they stayed around much longer, and they were a lot more fun.

They say you favor an animal that you identify with.
Let’s see, I’m not terribly fat; I don't have big teeth; I don’t like the out-of-doors; I don’t often go swimming.

I guess what I like about hippos is that they’re hot pink.



On the inside I am as gray and dull as a hippo.
But on the outside I prefer Fuschia!


And if the name hadn't already been used, we might have had a child named Horace.

Feelin' Good

I think I am a very even-tempered person. I am in almost the same mood all the time. There is good and bad about that, but that's how I am: boring.

So it surprises me when I feel low or high, because it's rare.

This week I'm feeling higher than usual. I'm feeling the ripple effect of some of the things I’ve been doing lately.

Many mornings I listen to Michael Buble’s “Feelin’ Good” and it really does ring in my brain and my emotions all day long.

I also started doing DDR—the X-Box dance game. I find that everywhere I go when I hear music, I feel like dancing. I have to hold myself back though, because I have no style and would embarrass myself.

I find blogging also effects the way I think and the way I see things. I love how validating it is, and look forward to that shared experience every day.

The result of all this is: I feel like a dancing, singing poet all day!
It’s amazing how much this affects my attitude, my energy level, and my general mood.

I'm feelin' good!

(If only I could bottle it and sell it as an anti-depressant.)


This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it. Psalms 118:24

Hippo Birdie Two Ewes

Today is my birthday. It is a happy day!

I am happy that I was born and get to have "My Turn on Earth."

I am happy that I was born at this time, early enough to know an age of innocence and late enough to have dishwashers and Internet.

I'm happy that I was born in this country and have the freedom to think, act, speak out, and be anything I want, even if I don't know what that is.

I'm happy that I was born to my sweet Mother, and got to have such a character for a Father.

I'm happy for each sibling that I grew up with, who still play with me and define me.

I'm happy that I got to get an education and learn a little of this awesome world and its people.

I'm happy that I got to get married and have children.

I'm happy that, though I haven't always had money, I've always had a roof over my head and food to eat, and most of my life it was a good roof and good food.

I'm happy that I've been blessed with good friends all of my life.

I'm happy that I was born during the Restoration in the Fulness of Times; it has meant everything to me.

I'm happy that I've been able to see and hear and run and skip and dance and do handsprings.

I'm happy to live in this beautiful world, even if it doesn't feel like Home to me.

It is a Happy Birthday. I am so glad I was born.

Handspring!

I've been bragging for years that I can still do a handspring.
My kids even brag to their friends that their mother can do a handspring.

But I realized it has been a few years since I have actually tried to do one.

With another birthday coming up, I decided it was time to see if I really could still do it, especially because I was having trouble doing cartwheels with my granddaughters.

Today was the day.

Mind you, now I have to prepare for it. I spent a few days on my treadmill, on my exercise ball, lifting weights and stretching to prepare for this event. After all, I didn't want to hurt myself. I took a big risk and did it when no one was home if I did get hurt.

I usually save this big event for an audience, but I didn't want to totally shame myself.

I donned my workout clothes, found good shoes, and headed for the backyard. It has a slight slant to it.

I stared across the yard, measuring the distance, checking the incline, debating whether it was worth the risk.

I took a trial run to see how it felt. I don't know......

Yes, I do. This is the day. I am going to do it!

I marched back up the hill, and without another thought I took off, jumped up, went down on my hands, and over I went. I did it!!!!


OK, to be honest, my gym teacher would not have passed it.
I landed as much on my bum as I did my feet. But I did it.

Just for good measure, I did a couple more. They didn't get any better. My days of landing clean on my feet may be over.

It hurt my wrists only a little, but I don't think I will be doing a lot more of them in my lifetime.

But at least once more. I need witnesses.

Passport to Paradise

My passport came in the mail today!

It’s for our family cruise in November, of course.

But it has, in my mind, opened up a whole new world of possibilities.
Where is it a passport to?
Where could it take me that I’ve never been before?
What new sights and tastes and experiences could be waiting for me?

Someone once said, “Our life is a book, and he who stays home writes only one page.”

So, when are we going?
And where?

Are we there yet?

To Have or Have Not: Children

Ashley’s mom once said an interesting thing.
They were trying to make arrangements for their children if something should happen to them. They went through everyone they knew --grandparents, siblings, aunts and uncles on both sides of the family, and there was no one they trusted to rear their children.
Then this thought occurred to her: This must be how Heavenly Father feels. He wants to send his children to the very best homes, where they will have the gospel and be reared in love and righteousness, but they are so few and hard to find.

Brigham Young said,
“I have told you many times that there are multitudes of pure and holy spirits waiting to take tabernacles. Now what is our duty? –to prepare tabernacles for them. To take a course that will not tend to drive these spirits into the families of the wicked, where they will be trained in wickedness.”

I didn’t know all this when I decided to have eight children.
But I did grow up when President David O. McKay was Prophet.
He had a no-excuses attitude about having children.

During some really hard times, I was praying for some blessings. What I got was pregnant again. At first I was upset; the last thing I needed at that time was another baby.
But as I thought about it, I realized that the greatest blessing, the most precious gift Heavenly Father could give me was one of his children. To me it was a sign of His love and trust.

When I realized I was pregnant with my eighth child in ten years,
I threw myself on my bed and sobbed. This lasted only a few minutes when a peace washed over me, and the thought that came into my mind was, “It will be okay.” And it was.
That baby was Angela. Anyone who knows how I feel about Angela, and about Jennifer and Benjamin and Elizabeth and David and Jonathan and Kathryn and Nathan, will know that it was worth it to have eight children.

I never had any idea or feeling or dream of how many children I would have. I always said, Just one at a time.
It added up quickly.

When I think how blessed I have been in my life, and I wonder how I can ever pay Heavenly Father back for all He’s done, I feel that I have paid part of that debt by being willing to provide tabernacles for His children, and by trying to raise them in righteousness.

But then He helped me along the way, and gave me really good kids, making me even more indebted to Him. I hope my children will continue to pay on that debt.

Within the sacred walls of the Temple, where our eternal family began, I’ve come to understand that “Man is, that he might have joy,” and that Joy is found in posterity.

Remnants of Faith

Late in December of 1990, in the midst of an Arctic storm, a large tree came through our house. Actually it was two trees. We saw them fall as we stood by the sliding glass doors leading to the balcony. But it was too late to move. The header over the glass doors probably saved our lives, and our house.

Our goodly neighbor came over, against his wife's wishes, and precipitously climbed our icy roof with his chain saw to cut the trees down off our roof.
Soon after other saintly friends showed up with their construction truck and secured a tarp over the large and gaping hole to prevent further damage to our house.

We farmed the kids out to friends and family, until school started back up and then we moved into three rooms of the Smiley Motel. Several weeks later we moved back in to our mended home.

This is what I wrote in my journal at that time:

Date: 18 January 1991
Three weeks after a tree fell through the roof.

I see them everywhere I go, remnants of the Arctic storms: trees down, or half-down, or cut off at the edge of the road. There are many scenes that will never be the same.

Now I am back home, its repairs nearly complete from its tree-visitor. And I see them everywhere, remnants of the storm: limbs scattered, paint spattered, chunks of drywall, bits of insulation, puzzle pieces of my house that look different or don't fit anymore. And I wonder if life will be the same.

I thought it could all be fixed just as it was. I thought it would all be the same and we would go on just as before. But there's all the remnants, all the reminders of the passing storm, and I realize that neither the house, nor us, will be the same again.

Painful as that may be, I guess it's good. We really didn't have to endure much--a moment of terror and a month of inconvenience, but no real suffering.

And we saw in this experience (and the other accidents of the past month), the Hand of God, and that is a great thing. We don't ever want to forget that.

No, we will never be the same again. Our souls will carry with us the remnants, pieces of faith and of peace and of love.

We were luckier than most folks in similar circumstances, who months later still had no relief. Our insurance agent was there the next day with a big, fat check. Repairs began the first day weather permitted. Our friends took us in and salved our wounds. The damage would have been much worse without their timely help.

It was inconvenient, yes, but we were so very blessed.