Family history- It's about the dash

VERY cool thing happened today... I had the opportunity to do a  presentation at our stake family Discovery- awesome!  I love sharing my love of family history- it's one of my favorite topics.  I was able to share the story of Edwin Cleveland Stoddard and Jennie Smith.  Their story is so near and dear to my heart.  My presentation was entitled, "Grandpa Great Edwin's Instagram account.  I hope the youth felt inspired as I challenged them to "Discover their story... Share their Joy!"

 As part of the presentation, I challenged the youth to record their own stories and the stories of their ancestors.  I was able to share my blog with them and the stories I share there.  I shared with the the significance of the title of my blog. Barnwood (in honor of my grandfather, Max Dickson Weaver- In April of 2009, I adventured with my grandfather Max Dickson Weaver (then 93) to the Dickson homestead in Richville, Utah (His Grandfather, Albert Douglass Dickson’s farmland).  It was a pilgrimage of sorts. I placed flowers at Albert’s gravesite which overlooks his beautiful land.  I meandered with my grandfather as he shared memories and moments from his life.  He shared stories of strength and faith.  This was my journey.  I lost my grandfather  in October 2012.   He was 95.  Rigby took me back to Richville that November.  I scurried across the locked gate of the Dickson Homestead and took a piece of barn wood.  It stands in the entrance of our home.  It reminds me of my heritage… that I can do hard things.

  Tulips in honor of  Zina Lunt Rigby. She was my husband’s grandmother.  She embodied what a woman should be- refined, feminine, intelligent, hardworking, frugal, wittu and yes fun!  During the last months of her life, every Tuesday I read to her.  Many said what a blessing I was to this sweet woman.  Truthfully, she was mine- she saved me.  After her passing, we journeyed to her home and dug up some tulip bulbs from her landscape where our Five regularly attended with helping hands.  Today, they are planted in our backyard.  Zina’s tulips teach me to learn, to love, and to laugh!

Edwin Clevland Stoddard

Much of Edwin Cleveland Stoddard's life has been a mystery to me.  I  have known his birth date and death date, but I knew nothing about the dash.  So I got to work and went after the "REAL" story.  

Edwin's family- Left to Right- Hazel Rachel Gale, Step sister, Hyrum Franklin Stoddard, Jr., Mothe,r Evangeline Cleveland, My grandfather, Edwin Cleveland Stoddard, Margaret Marian Stoddard

Edwin's children- My grandmother Ruth Mabel Stoddard Kimball Weaver and her brother,  Edwin Cleveland Stoddard

My dad and I at the grave of Edwin's father, Hyrum Franklin Stoddard. I love visiting the graves of my ancestors... it is such a spiritual experience to kneel at their graves and hear their stories- to discover the dash.  

Edwin's wife, my great grandmother, Jennie Smith

 The Research involved in getting to know Edwin was a lot of fun.  We returned to his roots- to the small railway town of Uintah, Utah.   Traces of the Stoddards still remain today.

My Grandparents, Max Dickson Weaver and Ruth Mabel Stoddard (Kimball) Weaver

Edwin's father, Hyrum Franklin Stoddard- he passed away in February and Edwin wasn't born until June

Evangeline Cleveland, Edwin's mother

                                #noemptychairs
The take away from the event was to get to know your "REAL" ancestors and not to just "reel them" because it's about the dash!  When we get to the other side, let's be sure there are NO EMPTY CHAIRS!

Sometimes the greatest lessons learned are lessons learned from the bench.

Canyon View will face off against Dixie at USU this Thursday and sitting at the far end of the bench will be my son. He will be watching the boys he has played ball with since he was 12 compete at the state tournament. I am not sure how this season would have differed for him if he had not sustained injury after injury all of which led him to surgery, but I do know that when he went down on the court in December, he was the first man off the bench.  My Stockton is a scrapper.

We have experienced all kinds of emotions at our house for close to three months.  A lot of it has not been pleasant, fair, or joyful.  But we have definitely grown- both of us.  I am thankful for that- did I really say that? Ughh growing is exhausting, heart wrenching, and definitely not the easy route. 

I am so proud of Stockton for supporting his teammates, for showing up to every practice, and  for cheering them on,  This has not been easy- watch his buddies hoop it up while he has stumbled with crutches and sported a walking boot most of the time.  At practice he has sat and sat and while they condition he writes the ABC's with his foot for rehab.   We have had some great talks about being grateful for our bodies for  when they work and when they don't.  

These boys are my boys too.  I  have loved watching them play.  I love to see Bubs take it to the hoop, drain a three, or set a play in motion.  Porter kills it in rebounds, and Joe well Joe plays ball with confidence- the same confidence he did when he was 6 and I first met him on the baseball diamond. And then there is "quiet make it happen Abe Huxford."  Truth be told he is the backbone of the team.  Dastrup and Christensen each bring a steady game to the court and round out the trio of Seniors with Huxford.  Sophomore Parry brings his "shot" and adds depth and strength to the Falcons.  Not to forget Scott Sanders who "brings it" with his heart and soul when he steps on the court. But perhaps it is Toby Potter that my admiration is extended to most. Getting on the court for his him is no easy task as he has fought juvenile osteoarthritis and  ulcerative colitis since he was 8.  You wouldn't know it though- the kid always wears a smile.  And last but not least is the team manager, senior, Barlow.  I am grateful to be his "other mother."  He has been raised by some pretty fantastic women.  Barlow is definitely wise beyond his years and possesses an innate sense of survival and a stick to  it attitude.

 What I have learned?  There are all kinds of ways to be on a "team," growth is hard, injuries suck,  really good friends stick around, good coaches are a blessing, be grateful for the "dance" you get, and most of all, there are all kinds of ways to be a mother.  I love the five  children  I have given birth to and I am most grateful for all the other children I get to "mother!"  Good Luck at State! #GoFalcons!

New Beginnings- My Three White Dresses

 

 Last Sunday evening, the young women in our ward gathered for New Beginnings.  We welcomed the new Beehives, introduced the Youth theme for the year, and gave a little Personal Progress Pep talk.

The theme for the Evening was “My Three White Dresses.”  We are so excited for the temple in Cedar City to be completed that we wanted to celebrate the event. We have watched it grow from the ground breaking to the beautiful edifice on the hillside.

We drew from our Stake presidency’s temple challenge, “Offer unto the Lord an offering in Righteousness” (Doctrine and Covenants 128:24)

The challenges focuses on the following l.  Be worthy of a Temple Recommend, 2.  Engage in Family History Work, and 3.  Deepen our understanding of the temple.

As such, the Young Women in our ward will focus our weekly activities on this challenge from our stake presidency.

In preparation for the day when each young woman will enter the temple, she will have the opportunity to prepare a temple time capsule this year.

Tawni Werber pumped up the girls for personal progress as she shared portions of Young Woman’s General President Sister Elain Dalton. Focusing on how the “values, experiences, and projects in Personal Progress are fundamental in strengthening individuals, families, and societies.”

 An old man, going a lone highway,
Came at the evening, cold and gray,
To a chasm, vast and deep and wide,
Through which was flowing a sullen tide.

The old man crossed in the twilight dim;
The sullen stream had no fears for him;
But he turned when safe on the other side
And built a bridge to span the tide.

“Old man,” said a fellow pilgrim near,
“You are wasting strength with building here;
Your journey will end with the ending day;
You never again must pass this way;
You have crossed the chasm, deep and wide —
Why build you the bridge at the eventide?”

The builder lifted his old gray head:
“Good friend, in the path I have come,” he said,
“There followeth after me today
A youth whose feet must pass this way.

This chasm that has been naught to me
To that fair-haired youth may a pitfall be.
He, too, must cross in the twilight dim;
Good friend, I am building the bridge for him.”

(Quoted in Thomas S. Monson, “The Bridge Builder,” Ensign, Nov. 2003, 67.)

“The bridges each of you build will help span the tide of worldly influences—for when you save a girl, you save generations.” —Sister Elaine S. Dalton, Young Women general president

Angie Gifford sang a beautiful solo, “What Heaven Sees in You” which reflected on the three white dresses each young woman has worn and will wear.  Angie’s voice was the perfect touch to deliver this powerful message.

The Bishop’s wife, Dawn Heath, gave a beautiful talk on “My Three White Dresses” and challenged the girls to not miss that moment when they are able to go to the temple and be sealed.  She did a beautiful job. Her husband, the Bishop followed her with closing remarks- the two are such a dynamic duo.

And did I mention we ate cake, yep we have our two own culinary artists on our Young women Board, Leanna and Julia- the cakes were just as yummy as they were beautiful! Each cake was decorated with a beautiful flower which corresponded with a value color.

The program ended with all the young women singing "I love to See the Temple."  

Brooklyn Hulet

Emma Rigby

Kiera Handy

Mckinlee Urie

Lia Hughes

Peyton Smith

Presley Miller

Abby Gifford

Angie Gifford

The New Beehives

Faith

Divine Nature

Knowledge

Choice and Accountablity

Good Works

Integrity

Virtue

Closing hymn, I love to see the temple

Amazing Young Women

Bishop and Sister Heath and the Ashdown Forest Young Women

Member of the Ashdown Forest Young Women Board

Sunshine- Thursday musings

Just to feel the sun on my cheeks lifts my spirits as my feet hit the pavement, there could be no greater joy or therapy.  Sunshine in February is a special treat in my southern Utah Town.  Its effects are as intoxicating as chocolate.

The winter clouds have long sought to strangle my mood and I have almost been defeated, but not today.  I lengthen my stride and let my thoughts wander.  I consider the tasks of the days, the burdens I need help lifting and the joy of my family and my faith. While it will last only 30 minutes, this is my "day at the spa."

The days and nights of my youth roll into ball of recollection as I pass by the old neighborhood.  Tap, tap, my feet hit the pavement in sync with my rhythmic breathing. I see that little brown eyed blond  girl playing under the elm trees, and I wonder about her dreams- travel, adventure, stories, friendship.  Has she arrived? Always pushing, planning, plotting- playtime under the lilac trees, playtime on front yard diamond, playtime in her tattered running shoes.

I continue, passing by the flowers on Main Street.  A smile spreads across my lips.  I hear laughter.  The laughter of three girls watering the flowers and the father carrying the buckets and the wrench for the water spouts.  What a summer!  More laughter- two brown eyed blonds calling each  from the old phone booths- ice cream at Fernwoods, candy stops at Cowley Drug, and movies at the old theater. And then   I wonder, what every happened to old Power House, the old guy who always bought Lucky Strike cigarettes.  He will always be a mystery.

More dreams, more stories, more adventures... tap, tap, tap- the chocolate is gone but the sun is still shining!

Monday Memory- Happy Birthday to my Great grandfather Edwin Cleveland Stoddard

Today marks the 128th birthday of my great grandfather, Edwin Cleveland Stoddard.  I think of him often kissing his babies and handing them to Marie and Leo after having buried his Jenny.  My grandmother Ruth's history him is brief but lovely.  Jennie called him "Ed."  He was a railway man weighing about 195 and standing at about 6 feet two inches tall.  Grandma says he had kind blue eyes and a ready smile.  Those details remind me so much of my Uncles Kurt and Wynn.  

Grandma's history of her father ends, "I never knew my father, "Ed" very well.  After our mother's death, we were raised by our aunt and uncle, Leo and Marie Kimball who adopted Cleve and myself." 

So much is said and not said in that paragraph.  I have searched to know more about my Stoddard line recording etchings of both his father and grandfather (Hyrum Franklin Stoddard and Charles Augustus Stoddard) and then the details include only birth and death dates of Curtis Stoddard, Anthony Stoddard, Eliakim Stoddard, but then it comes to Reverand Anthony Stoddard and the finding is a jackpot.   In fact, it is at Reverand Anthony Stoddard that I began a dance with him nearly 1/4 century ago....

My 22 year dance with the Reverend

I first met the Reverend Anthony Stoddard when I was 18.  At that time, I was working on my Laurel Project in order to complete my Young Womanhood Award (I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints).  My Laurel project entailed the gathering of my genealogical records and organizing them into a Book of Remembrance.  This is when my “love affair” with family history began… and in a sense my courtship with the Reverend.

My grandparents, Max Dickson Weaver and Ruth Mabel Stoddard (Kimball) Weaver both descend from the Reverend and his second wife Mary Sherman… in fact, their family lines cross at the Reverend’s son Abijah Stoddard who Married Joanna Curtis. Abijah Stoddard  died on May 6, 1776 drowning at the Battle of Crown Point, NY during the Revolutionary War.Grandma descends from Anthony and grandpa from Icabod.  Yep, my grandparents were “kissin’ cousins” too.

The Reverend was a colonial Clergyman of Woodbury, Litchfield, Connecticut.  He was born August 9, 1678 and died September 6, 1760 at age 82.  Anthony, the reverend’s, father was also a follower of Christ- Solomon Stoddard was a Pastor at Northampton church, Massachusetts.  At age 19, the reverend Anthony graduated from Harvard with an A.B. Degree.  In 1715, he obtained his A.M. degree also from Harvard.  Following in his Father’s footsteps he was ordained the minister of the First Congregational Church in Woodbury, Litchfield, Connecticut on May 27, 1702- at a mere 24 years of age.  He continued in this stead for 60 years. 

In exchange for his service as the Reverend, the congregation built him a house, (he was to provide the nails and glass) dug him a well, gave him 115 acres of land and paid him 70 pounds per year.  This house was deeded to the Reverend after 6 years of service.   At that time, he became as rich as the most opulent farmer in the area.  His house consisted of 3 floors.  On the first floor the probate courts for the district were held for forty years, on the second floor was the portico also where he as Parson prepared his sermons.  This property is located in a beautiful valley with hoary Castle Rock as a background. 

In 1714, The Reverend’s first wife Prudence Wells Stoddard died at age 32 during childbirth.  Leaving him with 8 young children to raise, he married Mary Sherman of Woodbury.  She and the Reverend had three children one of which Abijah Stoddard from which both my grandparents descend.  Mary, likewise died of childbirth in 1721 at age 29.  The Reverend then married Hannah.

The Reverend was a man of great statute.  He was known to drive off the Indians during the raids of 1708, quiet the fearful settlers during the rare appearance of the Great Northern Lights in 1719, and care for the citizens of the community during the outbreak of Typhoid fever in 1727 to which he lost four of his adult children and the community itself lost 44 villagers.  In 1741, the Reverend Anthony was appointed to teach an Indian named Achetoset and his family Christianity after Achetoset petitioned the community for the knowledge of the “Christian Revolution”

As a product of the times, Reverend Anthony owned slaves and preached in a church where seating was assigned by rank where people of “color” were assigned the balcony and where the women were separated from the men in pews.

In spite of the location of his parish, the Reverend rose in prominence often preaching 3 sermons every Sunday, he also possessed degrees in theology, medicine, and law.  The members of the community described their pastor as “an all-around man, broad minded, incessantly useful, brave, generous, and benign.  He was also elected a trustee of Yale University where a portrait of him remains a collection of the Yale University Art Gallery.

So, twenty- two years later I have finished my “dance” with the Reverend.  I have shared his story- shared his joy.  I firmly believe his great faith as a Reverend planted the seeds of a desire to know Christ in the hearts of his descendents.  So much so, that when young boy Prophet Joseph Smith restored the gospel of Jesus Christ to the earth, young missionaries were led to and invited into the homes of the Reverend’s descendents Charles Stoddard and cousin Mary Ann Stoddard. A chain of  faith was forged in the Reverend’s posterity.  It was passed to the parents and grandparents of Max and Ruth, “the Kissin’ Cousins” and then to me their granddaughter and their 36 other grandchildren. I pray I will not weaken this great chain of faith!  Thank you Reverend… I have enjoyed this dance!