As my three years in junior high school came to an end, I had for the first time a feeling of value and self-worth. That's what having a boyfriend did for me. He didn't care that I didn't wear Joyce shoes and Jantzen sweaters. He didn't care whether or not I was a good student (actually I was...almost a straight A). He didn't care that I lived in a rather modest home. He didn't care that I wasn't popular. He didn't even care that I still had trouble with skin allergies. He just liked me for who I was. And he actually thought I was pretty. That was the shocker. I always considered Claire the pretty one, and that I could never measure up to her. I had never had much self esteem up until now because my Dad was always quick to point out all my faults and never seemed to do the same with my strengths. I remember thinking that I never could do anything right or good enough. Don't get me wrong. He was a great dad, and I feel he honestly believed he was helping us to be better children by pointing out our weaknesses. That is needed, but there also needs to be positive feedback to help children with self-esteem. Children need to be "caught" doing something right and then told about it. Back then there just weren't the parenting and child psychology books and classes available, not that my dad would have read or taken them anyway. Now for the first time someone was making me feel good about myself other than my dog, Jiggers. My dad had kept his promise to get me a dog once we moved into our new house. We had to give up most of our animals when we sold our old house and Dad knew how much I loved those animals. Jiggers, a black and white,curly haired Australian Shepherd mix, loved me unconditionally and had been my best friend before Jim came along.
I graduated from Olympus in a pink organdy eyelet dress made by my mother. She even made me a pretty lace and ribbon-trimmed slip to go under it because you can see through organdy. I don't remember graduation being a big, deal. My parents attended the daytime ceremony, but that was the end of the celebration, and I was fine with that. I don't think graduation from junior high school was that important to anyone back then. We were more excited about just being out of school for the summer and not having to go back to the same old school in the fall.
That summer was very eventful for me. First of all I was earning enough money baby sitting and doing some "gathering" work (collating sets of duplicate and triplicate printed material which my dad brought home from work and for which he paid us $.50 an hour) to take cello lessons from the first cellist in the Utah Symphony. He was an older single man who lived on the northwest part of town. Since we lived on the southeast part of town, it was a long bus ride requiring several transfers to get to his home. It was difficult because I was carrying a large awkward instrument on and off those buses. But I felt it was worth it.
The biggest event of the summer for me was when Nico Snel (Nick) and his family moved in temporarily with the Mes family across the street. They had just moved to the U.S. from The Netherlands, and since the Mes's had been their sponsors to come to the states, they housed them until they could find a home and move to their final destination in Walnut Creek, Cal. Nick was fifteen and the oldest of three children. He was tall with dark, wavy hair, and played the violin very well. Because my father was Dutch, served a mission in Holland, and loved to speak the language, we immediately made friends with this family. We had them over for dinner and although the adults could speak English, most of the conversation at the table was in Dutch. Being bored, Nick and I would go into the living room and have our own conversation. He began showing an interest in me and my emerging ego got the best of me. I was flattered to think that now two young men really liked me. I must be OK. I must be likable. These were new concepts to me. As I said, I had pretty low self esteem. We spent quite a bit of time together that summer. We didn't actually go out on dates (no car...no money), but he would come over and we would go for walks and just talk. For my birthday he wrote a piece of music for me entitled "Jonita". No, I don't still have that music.
As you can well imagine, Jim was really hurt by my new interest. To this day he can't say anything nice about Nick. He was sure that my dad had influenced me to like him because he was Dutch, and that somehow that made him superior. Yes, my dad did like him, but he never pushed me in his direction. We had a common interest, music, and I enjoyed listening to him play. Although he tried hard to get me to play for him I was too intimidated by his skill. Compared to him, I was a novice, and I refused to make a fool of myself. Jim began dating other girls, many of them my close friends, and I was glad. I think it made me feel better to know that I hadn't "destroyed" his life. (What an ego I was developing). But it left me room to be humbled later on in my life.
Nick and his family moved to California in the fall when school began, but we kept in contact through letters, and if you can believe it, by parents let me go alone on a bus to California to visit him during Christmas break. Jim was furious! I guess he still liked me just a "little" bit. I would see him (Jim) quite often now because we went to the same high school and rode the same bus to get there. He was always polite and the perfect gentlemen, but the relationship had definitely changed.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Sunday, August 26, 2007
My "prince" came along, and I didn't have to kiss a frog
It was Sunday morning towards the end of the summer of 1948. As usual my family were at Church to attend Sunday School. Back then Sunday School and Priesthood meeting were held Sunday morning. Then we would go home and return later in the afternoon or early evening for Sacrament Meeting. The auxiliary organizations (Primary and Relief Society) were held during the week. That Sunday, which I remember very well, we were singing the opening song at the beginning of the Sunday School meeting (everyone met together first for opening exercises) when the chapel door opened and I turned around to see who was coming in late. The first to enter was a handsome young man who I guessed was in his early twenties holding two small children by the hand. Following him were two other handsome young teens, the younger being the better looking...at least in my mind, a younger boy about ten, and a girl in her early teens. You can imagine the buzz that went on in our classes that day, at least among the girls. Who was this new family? Were they just visiting or had they moved into our ward? Where was the mother of all these children? How could the young man who was holding the hands of the two young children be old enough to be the father of these teen-age boys? We just couldn't figure it all out.
It turned out that this family had moved into the ward. Their last name was Mortensen, the boys (Jay, age 18, Jim, age 15, and Rey, age ten) and the girl (Elsie or "Lisa" age 13) were siblings of the oldest young man, Jesse, who was just 25. The little children (Jesse Jr. or "Butch" and Judy) were his children, and his wife, Jean had been ill that first Sunday so we didn't meet her until later. It was a while before we learned how they all came to be one happy family, but we really didn't care at that time. As young girls, what mattered to us was how we could win the attention of these younger "boys". The competition was on and the flirting began! The one I was interested in was Jim, the fifteen year old. I wanted nothing to do with "older" boys anymore. I had learned my lesson. Since I would be returning for my final year in Junior High School, and Jim would be in high school, the only contact I had was at church, and he wasn't in any of my classes. So it was just a "hi" and a smile as I passed him in the hall. When school started, I talked my sister, Georgia, into taking me with her to the first high school football game in hopes of at least seeing him, if not sitting close enough to strike up a conversation. It wasn't too difficult to convince her because she had shown an interest in the older brother, Jay, who was also attending high school. I worked!!! Somehow Jim and Jay found seats just behind us in the bleachers. Jim claims it wasn't by accident. He says that he and his brother saw us and made it a point to sit behind us because he had had his eye on me since the first time he saw me in church. I guess we were both a little shy. But that was the beginning of an off and on relationship that would end in a very long "on" (53 years and counting).
Yes, we did start dating even though I was just fourteen and Jim fifteen. He couldn't even drive, so we always double dated with his brother, Jay. Some of those dates were with my sister as Jay and she became good friends. Other times Jay dated a girl who lived down the street. He would drop Jim and me off at my house while he said "good-night" to his date. This could take anywhere from one to two hours. Jim would get so tired of waiting that often he would just run home, a distance of about a mile. He said he was afraid my dad would kill him if he saw how long he was there after a date.
We dated that whole year, always double, until February when Jim got his driver's license. Then we had a few dates on our own. I just want you to know that Jim was always good mannered and proper in every way, always opening doors, walking on the street side of a sidewalk, helping me with my coat, etc. He never made improper advances and didn't even kiss me good-night until we had been dating for about six months in spite of the fact that his sister-in-law, Jean, kept asking him "Did you kiss her yet?" after every date. It was really special when he finally did because it was my first kiss. It was in my garage, by the the back door, underneath a light that my parents left on when we were out on dates. I still remember all those details.
The highlight of that year of dating was when before attending an orchestra concert at my school (I'm sure it was a pure act of love to attend a concert at all), he presented me with my first corsage made of thirteen pink roses. It was huge! My shoulder was hardly big enough to hold it. I've never had one like that since. If I remember correctly, we were going to a dance after the concert.
We never considered that we were "going steady" at any time. We both knew that we had the freedom to date anyone else we chose. But I don't remember going out with anyone else that year, and I wasn't aware that Jim did either. But when summer came this young, egotistical, immature, teenager (me) decided to explore new waters when an opportunity presented itself. In a way it was good because I was too young and so was Jim to remain in a relationship that could only get more serious if it continued. However, at the time, this was not my motivation. It was only and ego trip I went on. Don't miss the next blog!
It turned out that this family had moved into the ward. Their last name was Mortensen, the boys (Jay, age 18, Jim, age 15, and Rey, age ten) and the girl (Elsie or "Lisa" age 13) were siblings of the oldest young man, Jesse, who was just 25. The little children (Jesse Jr. or "Butch" and Judy) were his children, and his wife, Jean had been ill that first Sunday so we didn't meet her until later. It was a while before we learned how they all came to be one happy family, but we really didn't care at that time. As young girls, what mattered to us was how we could win the attention of these younger "boys". The competition was on and the flirting began! The one I was interested in was Jim, the fifteen year old. I wanted nothing to do with "older" boys anymore. I had learned my lesson. Since I would be returning for my final year in Junior High School, and Jim would be in high school, the only contact I had was at church, and he wasn't in any of my classes. So it was just a "hi" and a smile as I passed him in the hall. When school started, I talked my sister, Georgia, into taking me with her to the first high school football game in hopes of at least seeing him, if not sitting close enough to strike up a conversation. It wasn't too difficult to convince her because she had shown an interest in the older brother, Jay, who was also attending high school. I worked!!! Somehow Jim and Jay found seats just behind us in the bleachers. Jim claims it wasn't by accident. He says that he and his brother saw us and made it a point to sit behind us because he had had his eye on me since the first time he saw me in church. I guess we were both a little shy. But that was the beginning of an off and on relationship that would end in a very long "on" (53 years and counting).
Yes, we did start dating even though I was just fourteen and Jim fifteen. He couldn't even drive, so we always double dated with his brother, Jay. Some of those dates were with my sister as Jay and she became good friends. Other times Jay dated a girl who lived down the street. He would drop Jim and me off at my house while he said "good-night" to his date. This could take anywhere from one to two hours. Jim would get so tired of waiting that often he would just run home, a distance of about a mile. He said he was afraid my dad would kill him if he saw how long he was there after a date.
We dated that whole year, always double, until February when Jim got his driver's license. Then we had a few dates on our own. I just want you to know that Jim was always good mannered and proper in every way, always opening doors, walking on the street side of a sidewalk, helping me with my coat, etc. He never made improper advances and didn't even kiss me good-night until we had been dating for about six months in spite of the fact that his sister-in-law, Jean, kept asking him "Did you kiss her yet?" after every date. It was really special when he finally did because it was my first kiss. It was in my garage, by the the back door, underneath a light that my parents left on when we were out on dates. I still remember all those details.
The highlight of that year of dating was when before attending an orchestra concert at my school (I'm sure it was a pure act of love to attend a concert at all), he presented me with my first corsage made of thirteen pink roses. It was huge! My shoulder was hardly big enough to hold it. I've never had one like that since. If I remember correctly, we were going to a dance after the concert.
We never considered that we were "going steady" at any time. We both knew that we had the freedom to date anyone else we chose. But I don't remember going out with anyone else that year, and I wasn't aware that Jim did either. But when summer came this young, egotistical, immature, teenager (me) decided to explore new waters when an opportunity presented itself. In a way it was good because I was too young and so was Jim to remain in a relationship that could only get more serious if it continued. However, at the time, this was not my motivation. It was only and ego trip I went on. Don't miss the next blog!
Monday, August 20, 2007
My First Crush
I had a beautiful blond sister, three years older than me, who attracted boys like ducks to water. When she was just fifteen or sixteen years old you could their eyes following her as she walked by. And it was not just the teenagers with raging hormones either. "Older" men, who I'm sure thought she was older, were known to start up a conversation and even flirt a bit with her at church. I being the age of twelve or thirteen at that time thought it was disgusting...that is until Wesley Bowen entered her life. He was from England, good-looking with dark wavy hair, and in his early twenties. I "fell in love". I loved his English accent, his impeccable manners, his friendliness to little sisters and even the black sedan he drove. (I have no idea the make.)
Wes, as we called him, would come to the house really often, even on week days during the day. It never entered my mind to wonder what he did for a living that would allow him so much free time. To a more mature person this would have been a red flag...which only goes to show not only my immaturity (I was only twelve or thirteen. I WAS immature)) but the immaturity of my "old" sister. I remember walking home from the bus stop after school and praying that I would see that black car in the driveway of our new home. (We were still living in the basement at that time.) I would be so disappointed if it was not and so excited if it was.
I understood that this was my sister's friend, but I hoped and prayed he would still be around and available by the time I grew up. Claire, my sister, had so many boyfriends I knew she wouldn't mind giving this one up for me. Did I say prayed? Yes, I actually remember praying that Wes would wait for me to grow up so I could marry him. I said that prayer over and over.
Wes hung around for probably six to eight months and once even arranged a double date with one of his friends. I couldn't believe that he would risk a friendship by arranging a blind date with a thirteen year old. And I still can't believe my Mom would even consider letting me go. I guess she felt it was safe because my sister would be there and we would be going to a church dance - the annual formal Gold and Green Ball. Not only did I not own a formal, I didn't know how to dance. I'd never been to a dance before. We picked up a dress at Deseret Industries, the only resemblance to a formal being that it came to the floor. It was red and white striped cotton with a sweetheart neckline and puffed sleeves. Even my date was a little taken back by that dress. I remember him making a comment something like, "Is that considered formal dress in the United States?" (He also was from England.) I was so embarrassed. But not as embarrassed as I was later on when someone told me why my date was so shocked when in conversation I described someone as "queer". I could tell he was upset by my statement but I had no idea why, and he wouldn't explain. I was very young and even more naive. Even when it was explained that "queer" was a word connected with the gay community, I still had to ask questions. In my day that was a taboo subject and was never discussed openly. As you might expect, this was a disastrous first date. What were my parents thinking when they let me go?!!!! I wish they were alive to ask.
Wesley was the one who taught us (both my sisters and me) how to play Bridge. I think the only reason he included my sister, Georgia, and me was because a foursome was needed. I was used to playing games for fun, but to Wes it was very serious. He played to win, and if we made an unreasonable bid, he would get very upset...I mean REALLY upset. I don't remember much about how to play this game, but I do remember not having much fun because the man whom I "adored" ruined it by his win-win attitude and by his anger when we really didn't care. I began to see a whole different side of Wes that I really didn't like. My infatuation began to dwindle rapidly thanks to Bridge. And it wasn't long before I lost all interest...and so did my sister. She had met someone new, a nineteen year old who was getting ready to go on a mission. As for me, I was soon to meet someone else who would change my life forever.
Wes, as we called him, would come to the house really often, even on week days during the day. It never entered my mind to wonder what he did for a living that would allow him so much free time. To a more mature person this would have been a red flag...which only goes to show not only my immaturity (I was only twelve or thirteen. I WAS immature)) but the immaturity of my "old" sister. I remember walking home from the bus stop after school and praying that I would see that black car in the driveway of our new home. (We were still living in the basement at that time.) I would be so disappointed if it was not and so excited if it was.
I understood that this was my sister's friend, but I hoped and prayed he would still be around and available by the time I grew up. Claire, my sister, had so many boyfriends I knew she wouldn't mind giving this one up for me. Did I say prayed? Yes, I actually remember praying that Wes would wait for me to grow up so I could marry him. I said that prayer over and over.
Wes hung around for probably six to eight months and once even arranged a double date with one of his friends. I couldn't believe that he would risk a friendship by arranging a blind date with a thirteen year old. And I still can't believe my Mom would even consider letting me go. I guess she felt it was safe because my sister would be there and we would be going to a church dance - the annual formal Gold and Green Ball. Not only did I not own a formal, I didn't know how to dance. I'd never been to a dance before. We picked up a dress at Deseret Industries, the only resemblance to a formal being that it came to the floor. It was red and white striped cotton with a sweetheart neckline and puffed sleeves. Even my date was a little taken back by that dress. I remember him making a comment something like, "Is that considered formal dress in the United States?" (He also was from England.) I was so embarrassed. But not as embarrassed as I was later on when someone told me why my date was so shocked when in conversation I described someone as "queer". I could tell he was upset by my statement but I had no idea why, and he wouldn't explain. I was very young and even more naive. Even when it was explained that "queer" was a word connected with the gay community, I still had to ask questions. In my day that was a taboo subject and was never discussed openly. As you might expect, this was a disastrous first date. What were my parents thinking when they let me go?!!!! I wish they were alive to ask.
Wesley was the one who taught us (both my sisters and me) how to play Bridge. I think the only reason he included my sister, Georgia, and me was because a foursome was needed. I was used to playing games for fun, but to Wes it was very serious. He played to win, and if we made an unreasonable bid, he would get very upset...I mean REALLY upset. I don't remember much about how to play this game, but I do remember not having much fun because the man whom I "adored" ruined it by his win-win attitude and by his anger when we really didn't care. I began to see a whole different side of Wes that I really didn't like. My infatuation began to dwindle rapidly thanks to Bridge. And it wasn't long before I lost all interest...and so did my sister. She had met someone new, a nineteen year old who was getting ready to go on a mission. As for me, I was soon to meet someone else who would change my life forever.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
And You Think You Invented the Snipe Hunt
As I heard and read of many of my granddaughter's girl's camp experiences this summer I was reminded of my own years as a member of the Church's Young Women's program. And yes, camping was part of the program even way back then. Having grown up in Utah, however, the Church owned their own campsite at Brighton in Big Cottonwood Canyon. If you're picturing a large area among big pine trees with individual camp areas with fire pits and cleared area for pitching tents, you are only half right. The area was beautiful with tall pines and a mountain view, but no tents. We "camped" in a large two story log lodge perched on the mountain side. We had rooms shared by four girls, bathrooms, dining hall, and an activity room with a large fireplace. It doesn't sound much like camping, does it? And it wasn't, really. We never learned outdoor camping skills like you do today. We never learned how to pitch a tent, cook over a fire, dig a latrine, live for a day on what you could carry in a backpack, administer first-aid, etc. What we were taught at camp was a love of nature and an appreciation for all of God's creations. So rather than going on long hikes, we would go on "nature walks" where we learned to identify different trees and plants, look for and enjoy the wild life in the mountains, watch an early morning sunrise and an evening sunset, and just learn to notice and appreciate the beauty of the world that surrounded us.
At night we would gather around a large outdoor campfire, sitting on logs that were permanently placed around it. There we learned and sang camp songs which I still remember today. In fact some of my children may remember my singing these songs to them when they were little. Do you remember: "The Cannibal King", "Red Wings", and "Snowball" (this one would probably not be permitted today because it would be considered a violation of race etiquette, but I thought it was very sweet)? These are the words. You be the judge.
"O, Mammy, Mammy, tell me...About those white folks 'chilluns'.
Why do they call me Snowball...When Snowball ain't my name.
My Mammy calls me Sugar Lump. My Pappy calls me Apple Dump.
O, Mammy, Mammy, aint it a shame...That Snowball ain't my name.
And, yes, we would tell ghost stories.
We had a lot of fun activities, too, at camp. It was the custom to take all first-year Beehives on a "Snipe" hunt at night. (And you thought it was your generation who invented the "Snipe Hunt"! Not so.) And it was here at Girl's Camp that I learned all about shy Brownies who leave treats on the trees for visitors to "their" mountains. As old as we were, we were taken on a Brownie Hike to gather the goodies. And we loved it. Brownie Hikes have since been a favorite of the children at Lake Lopez for many years. I loved doing them because it was so fun to see the faces of the little children as they saw trees with treats for the picking, and to hear them "swear" that they heard or even saw the Brownies watching them. We did it just this year.
I remember one year we had a pajama party at night in the activity room. We were told before we went to camp about this activity because they were going to have a pajama contest. I remember making my pajamas that year. They were yellow seersucker with bright colored flowers and trimmed with black ric rac (probably the only color we had at home). The top had cross-over flaps that tied in front leaving a little bit of the midriff bare. These would have been unacceptable by today's modesty standard, but nothing was said about that then. Believe me, if there had been rules against it, my mom would have been the first to say, "no way" and I in no way would have violated counsel. I think I won the prize for the "loudest' pajamas. And by making pajamas for the first time I learned how to make flat felled seams. Now those who don't sew or those that do and still don't know what these kind of seams are, look on the internet to find out. They are hardly used anymore.
Such were my experiences at girl's camp. I really think that the way the Church does it now gives girls much more valuable experience with practical skills as well as incorporating spiritual growth activities. But I think that this was the time of my life that I learned to love the out of doors, to appreciate the beauties of nature and to love all animal life. I still feel very close to God when I am alone in the mountains, or even in my own beautiful back yard looking up at the mountains behind us, or when a deer, or racoon, or even a skunk wanders into the yard eating my roses and tomatoes, or watching the California Jays taking a bath in the back yard fountain. I love this earth that God created for us, and I feel we are ungrateful children when we don't take care of it like we should. Take time to look around you when you feel unhappy or stressed and find joy in even the small evidences of God's love for his children.
At night we would gather around a large outdoor campfire, sitting on logs that were permanently placed around it. There we learned and sang camp songs which I still remember today. In fact some of my children may remember my singing these songs to them when they were little. Do you remember: "The Cannibal King", "Red Wings", and "Snowball" (this one would probably not be permitted today because it would be considered a violation of race etiquette, but I thought it was very sweet)? These are the words. You be the judge.
"O, Mammy, Mammy, tell me...About those white folks 'chilluns'.
Why do they call me Snowball...When Snowball ain't my name.
My Mammy calls me Sugar Lump. My Pappy calls me Apple Dump.
O, Mammy, Mammy, aint it a shame...That Snowball ain't my name.
And, yes, we would tell ghost stories.
We had a lot of fun activities, too, at camp. It was the custom to take all first-year Beehives on a "Snipe" hunt at night. (And you thought it was your generation who invented the "Snipe Hunt"! Not so.) And it was here at Girl's Camp that I learned all about shy Brownies who leave treats on the trees for visitors to "their" mountains. As old as we were, we were taken on a Brownie Hike to gather the goodies. And we loved it. Brownie Hikes have since been a favorite of the children at Lake Lopez for many years. I loved doing them because it was so fun to see the faces of the little children as they saw trees with treats for the picking, and to hear them "swear" that they heard or even saw the Brownies watching them. We did it just this year.
I remember one year we had a pajama party at night in the activity room. We were told before we went to camp about this activity because they were going to have a pajama contest. I remember making my pajamas that year. They were yellow seersucker with bright colored flowers and trimmed with black ric rac (probably the only color we had at home). The top had cross-over flaps that tied in front leaving a little bit of the midriff bare. These would have been unacceptable by today's modesty standard, but nothing was said about that then. Believe me, if there had been rules against it, my mom would have been the first to say, "no way" and I in no way would have violated counsel. I think I won the prize for the "loudest' pajamas. And by making pajamas for the first time I learned how to make flat felled seams. Now those who don't sew or those that do and still don't know what these kind of seams are, look on the internet to find out. They are hardly used anymore.
Such were my experiences at girl's camp. I really think that the way the Church does it now gives girls much more valuable experience with practical skills as well as incorporating spiritual growth activities. But I think that this was the time of my life that I learned to love the out of doors, to appreciate the beauties of nature and to love all animal life. I still feel very close to God when I am alone in the mountains, or even in my own beautiful back yard looking up at the mountains behind us, or when a deer, or racoon, or even a skunk wanders into the yard eating my roses and tomatoes, or watching the California Jays taking a bath in the back yard fountain. I love this earth that God created for us, and I feel we are ungrateful children when we don't take care of it like we should. Take time to look around you when you feel unhappy or stressed and find joy in even the small evidences of God's love for his children.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Elephants and Forget-me-nots!
My three years in junior high school corresponded with my three years as a Beehive girl in the church YWMIA program. Those initials stood for "Young Women's Mutual Improvement Association". Although "Beehive" girls still exist in the program today, it was much different for us...much more involved, requiring three years to complete all the requirements to become an "Honor Bee". Not everyone achieved that rank because it was quite difficult to accomplish all that it required, but that was the goal. I will attempt to give a brief overview of the program as it existed back then, and how it affected me.
In some ways the program was structured like the Boy Scouts in that we had bandlos on which we placed various symbols and awards we had earned. (We even had a salute) But everything represented some part of the life and society of the bee, such as:
Religion - purple Arts and crafts - brown
Home - orange Business - gold
Health - red Public Service - red, white, and blue
Out-of-doors - green
Fourteen awards (two in each field) were required to complete each rank. The first two years these awards were represented by colored hexagons or cells on the bandlo, and the guardian awards were in the shape of elongated rectangle or "lines". To become an "Honor Bee" you had to complete fourteen additional awards in any field or fields of your choice. These could be earned anytime throughout the three years of Beehives. These were called Honor Badges and were large hexagons with pictures representing the field of endeavor in which they were earned I guess all of these requirements might be compared to the "Personal Progress" program today. We also had a "theme" or what we called "The Spirit of the Hive" which we memorized and repeated at each meeting much as you do the Young Women's Values today. It went like this:
"On my honor I will endeavor to live by the Spirit of the Hive.
Have faith, Seek Knowledge, Safeguard Health, Honor Womanhood, Understand Beauty,
Value Work, Love Truth, Taste the Sweetness of Service, Feel Joy."
There were two other symbols on our bandlos which I should mention, mainly because one of them had such a negative impact on my life. That may sound a little strange for a church program that was supposed to elevate youth and help them to grow. It really wasn't the intention of the program or of my parents to bring about the negative affect that it did, but a good lesson can be learned here. Let me explain. As we began the Beehive program, the class was to choose a "swarm" symbol which was to represent that for which the members wish to work as a group. Then we were to choose something to place on our bandlos to remind us of that goal. Our class chose increased spirituality, love, and purity. The symbol we chose was a Book of Mormon, and a red and white rose. That was fine and can see that symbol at the bottom of my bandlo. But we were also to select a personal symbol by making a list of qualities you see in others that you admire and choosing one that you would like to develop in yourself. Then we were to choose some symbol that would represent and remind us of this quality to place on our bandlos. Sounded good to me! I liked that idea. I had seen older girls with their symbols (usually some kind of flower) displayed prominently at the top of their bandlos where they were supposed to be. I remember thinking of some qualities, mostly of my mother's, that I really admired and was trying to think of a flower that would represent them. I was seriously thinking of a sweet pea because that was my mother's favorite flower, but was having trouble deciding on how to make one out of felt to put on my bandlo. Sweet peas aren't the easiest flower to duplicate. But that problem was solved when my dad told be that I what I really needed was something to remind me not to be so forgetful. I really don't remember being that forgetful, at least not unusually so for a child, but I guess my dad did. He suggested an elephant as a symbol (we all know that an elephant never forgets), and if I had to have flowers, what about forget-me-nots. He was not joking. So guess what is on my bandlo, right at the top in a prominent place? Yup. It's an elephant with two small forget-me-nots on each side. I hated it. Instead of reminding me of something positive to work towards it reminds me of what I guess is a negative quality in my character. At least my dad must have thought so. And at times in my life it has become an excuse for being that way, forgetful that is. I just must have been born that way.
And, by the way, I did become and Honor Bee!
In some ways the program was structured like the Boy Scouts in that we had bandlos on which we placed various symbols and awards we had earned. (We even had a salute) But everything represented some part of the life and society of the bee, such as:
- A group of Beehive girls in a ward was called a "swarm"
- Their leader was the "beekeeper"
- First year girls were "builders" (builders of the hive)
- Second year girls "gatherers" (gatherers of the honey)
- Third year girls "guardians" (guardians of the hive)
- Beehive colors were blue (a bee's favorite color), brown and gold (the color of the bee)
- <>Awards earned in the first two years were called "cells" (where honey was stored) and "seals" (when a cell is filled with honey it is sealed over with wax). Third year girls earn "beelines". Etc., etc.
Religion - purple Arts and crafts - brown
Home - orange Business - gold
Health - red Public Service - red, white, and blue
Out-of-doors - green
Fourteen awards (two in each field) were required to complete each rank. The first two years these awards were represented by colored hexagons or cells on the bandlo, and the guardian awards were in the shape of elongated rectangle or "lines". To become an "Honor Bee" you had to complete fourteen additional awards in any field or fields of your choice. These could be earned anytime throughout the three years of Beehives. These were called Honor Badges and were large hexagons with pictures representing the field of endeavor in which they were earned I guess all of these requirements might be compared to the "Personal Progress" program today. We also had a "theme" or what we called "The Spirit of the Hive" which we memorized and repeated at each meeting much as you do the Young Women's Values today. It went like this:
"On my honor I will endeavor to live by the Spirit of the Hive.
Have faith, Seek Knowledge, Safeguard Health, Honor Womanhood, Understand Beauty,
Value Work, Love Truth, Taste the Sweetness of Service, Feel Joy."
There were two other symbols on our bandlos which I should mention, mainly because one of them had such a negative impact on my life. That may sound a little strange for a church program that was supposed to elevate youth and help them to grow. It really wasn't the intention of the program or of my parents to bring about the negative affect that it did, but a good lesson can be learned here. Let me explain. As we began the Beehive program, the class was to choose a "swarm" symbol which was to represent that for which the members wish to work as a group. Then we were to choose something to place on our bandlos to remind us of that goal. Our class chose increased spirituality, love, and purity. The symbol we chose was a Book of Mormon, and a red and white rose. That was fine and can see that symbol at the bottom of my bandlo. But we were also to select a personal symbol by making a list of qualities you see in others that you admire and choosing one that you would like to develop in yourself. Then we were to choose some symbol that would represent and remind us of this quality to place on our bandlos. Sounded good to me! I liked that idea. I had seen older girls with their symbols (usually some kind of flower) displayed prominently at the top of their bandlos where they were supposed to be. I remember thinking of some qualities, mostly of my mother's, that I really admired and was trying to think of a flower that would represent them. I was seriously thinking of a sweet pea because that was my mother's favorite flower, but was having trouble deciding on how to make one out of felt to put on my bandlo. Sweet peas aren't the easiest flower to duplicate. But that problem was solved when my dad told be that I what I really needed was something to remind me not to be so forgetful. I really don't remember being that forgetful, at least not unusually so for a child, but I guess my dad did. He suggested an elephant as a symbol (we all know that an elephant never forgets), and if I had to have flowers, what about forget-me-nots. He was not joking. So guess what is on my bandlo, right at the top in a prominent place? Yup. It's an elephant with two small forget-me-nots on each side. I hated it. Instead of reminding me of something positive to work towards it reminds me of what I guess is a negative quality in my character. At least my dad must have thought so. And at times in my life it has become an excuse for being that way, forgetful that is. I just must have been born that way.
And, by the way, I did become and Honor Bee!
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