'Twas the Night Before . . .

As I was walking up the driveway after returning from an errand on Christmas Eve I saw a tall dark figure approach me from the shadows. At first I was uncertain of who it might be but a moment later a good looking young man in a suit and tie approached me. It was Josh. He seemed a little on edge and a bit hesitant, but asked, "Could I talk with you for a minute?"

"Sure," I responded. Because Josh had been dating Michelle for the last year or so I sort of suspected that this might have something to do with that relationship and was not entirely surprised. After all, Josh all dressed up in a suit on a Wednesday night, Christmas Eve, was a clue even I couldn't miss. And believe me I have missed some great clues in the past.

"I really love Michelle and I'd like to ask you a question, I mean I want to ask your permission or rather your blessing," he said haltingly. "I'd like your blessing to ask for Michelle's hand in marriage."

I remembered how uncomfortable I had been when I had asked a similar question years ago, first of Mom and Dad Faux in their old green Dodge when they were visiting Barbara in Provo, and then years later when I had asked Elder Scott in his living room while Mary Lee was in the dining room or kitchen nearby. It is one of those times which is rehearsed somewhat in imagination, but always happens differently than planned.

"Well, Josh, first let me say that we really think you're a great young man, and we have heard great things about you from Michelle. But let me ask you a couple of questions."

"Okay," he replied, not quite sure of what was coming.

It seems like he swallowed hard as he looked at me. Perhaps he had heard of some of Michelle's previous dates' experiences, like when she was going to the prom with Brent. I had the obligatory pre-prom interview with him and it turned out that evening my father was visiting so I asked Dad to also do a little interview. Just as Brent and Michelle were leaving, Elder Scott arrived so I asked him to have a little interview as well. All in all I think Brent and Michelle were glad to be on the road when the multiple interviews were over. Anyway this was a much more important event and the question at hand of substantially greater import.

As I looked Josh squarely in the eyes I asked, "Josh, my first question is, ‘Will you put the gospel first in your life?'"

Without hesitation he responded, "Yes." I could tell that this was not just a quick answer, but rather a decision he had made long ago even before he had met Michelle. It showed in his kindness, his courtesy and respect for people in general. It was manifest in the feedback I had from Michelle, from Bryan, his cousin, and Camille. I already knew the answer to the question but wanted him to reaffirm it for both of us. It was kind of like a formal agreement confirming priorities that had already been established.

"Great." I said. "And will you always put Michelle next in your life?" I continued.

Almost as if he had anticipated the question Josh said firmly, "Yes, I will."

"I guess that is all there is to it. We are excited and honored at the thought of having you in the family. One bit of insight, and you might have heard me say this before, but don't worry if things are tight financially. I have often thought that some people miss out on the closeness that comes from working together through tough times. Because there will certainly be plenty of tough times of every type ahead. And for that matter, if we can be of help at any time do not be afraid to ask. We will be glad to help any way we can."

He seemed much more at ease as we walked into the house. I did not know when Josh planned to "pop the question," but that was up to him. I knew what I needed to know and I appreciated his respect in asking for our little talk. I certainly would not have been upset if he had not asked, but at the same time I had a greater admiration and respect for him because he had asked. It is one of those little things that doesn't have to happen but you are really glad when it does.

It was only a little over two years earlier when Bryan had called me on the phone at the office and had asked a similar question. Bryan and I had a similar discussion and it got our relationship off to a good start then as well.

The remainder of Christmas Eve was filled with the usual preparations for the next day. We got the last of the presents wrapped, checked to make sure that everything was in place, and went to bed knowing that the day would begin early the next morning with Craig's call from Taiwan.

Sure enough, a little after 6:00 a.m. our time and about 9:00 p.m. his time, Craig called. He reported to us that he was doing great. It was wonderful to hear his voice and to learn first hand of his experiences and how he was doing. He spoke every other word in Mandarin Chinese, which of course we all understood with ease. It sounded like he was learning the language quite well. He could have been speaking pure gibberish and we would not have known the difference. In fact it was indeed gibberish to us. The marvels of modern communication are amazing when you think of it–we were able to hear Craig from thousands of miles away on a little portable cell phone that is no larger than the palm of your hand. With the speaker ‘on' all of us in the room could hear him and he us. Amazing!

After catching our breath just long enough to realize that it was Christmas morning, we rushed to get ready for the excited kids: Alison, Kaitlyn, and Max. (Max, age one, did not know that he was excited.)


At the bottom of the stairs appeared four eager eyes on two smiling faces–Alison and Kaitlyn were ready for Christmas fun. I couldn't believe how obedient and well behaved they were. They actually waited patiently for the approval from their mom and dad prior to storming the living room. Once the ‘okay' sounded, you could have been trampled by the stampeding feet as they ascended the broad hall stair.


Part of the fun of Christmas morning is watching the reaction of the kids as they open their gifts. They sometimes try out the toys or try on shirts or pants. It is such a treat to see their enthusiasm and to hear their heartfelt thank yous. We were busy taking pictures and trying (often in vain) to capture the moment in a few candid shots. More often than not we just missed the right moment, but at least the camera and the video camera were going like crazy. (Because we have such great looking girls in the family I had to sneak in this picture of the three in their new blouses. Take a good look now, because rumor has is that some of the blouses are being returned for a little different look.)



After the gifts for the younger children are opened there is a time when the rest of us begin to open gifts. It was during this time that Camille said for me to be sure to get the video on Michelle and Josh. I began to catch on to the possibilities after considering the events of the night before.


Josh gave Michelle a cookie sheet and then a cookie mix then a few other cooking utensils. Next he pulled out three envelopes and asked Michelle which one she would like to send out. Each had a slightly different picture of Michelle and him along with a greeting, "Merry Christmas from the Cooks." About then we were all starting to catch on. Michelle was all eyes as he began to read a poem. It was in perfect rhyme and extolled some of her many virtues and highlighted some of the attributes he loved about her. As it progressed it became more serious and finally he concluded with a proposal and a little box.



Michelle was all smiles as Josh got on one knee and asked, "Michelle, will you marry me?" and opened the little box to reveal a beautiful ring. It was a simple white gold band studded with 60 small diamonds. He paused for a moment as Michelle responded vibrantly, "Yes!" she said as she gave him a kiss.





Although everybody was transfixed by the scene, it didn't take long for us to realize what had just happened. With swoons and applause we all erupted with excited congratulations. It took me a little to put it all together, but all the cooking stuff was a clue. He wanted Michelle to be a Cook, not just a cook.





Making sure that all the bases were covered, Josh pulled out a second ring which was styled quite a bit differently. It was a solitaire in a spiral rising stem. Just in case Michelle would prefer a different style, Josh was ready. It was clever and thoughtful, just what we had come to expect from Josh.

What started out to be a simple Christmas morning had turned out to be an unforgettable event. We had all been able to participate in Michelle's engagement proposal. You got to love it. They make a great couple.






With the kids going every which way and all the engagement excitement going on we could well have missed Bryan whispering in Camille's ear, "Come this time next year . . ."

Especially for Alison, Kaitlyn, and Maxwell

Christmas is a sacred time.
Which, as Alison knows,
Is more than just a time of gifts
And packages with bows.



Christmas time helps us recall
When Jesus Christ was born
And Kaitlyn knows there was no tree
That chilly Christmas morn.



But little Maxwell hasn't learned
The story of Christ's birth.
He needs our help to understand
Why He came to earth.



So Mom and Dad will help him,



Grandma and Grandpa too;



But most of all he'll watch to see
What Alison and Kaitlyn do!



So we all need to teach him
By the things we do each day,





That Christ has meaning in our lives
Because we live the way we pray.











That's why Camille and Bryan are smiling,



And why Michelle is so elated,



And why Craig is always cheerful.



SO . . . No pouting Grandpa, or Alison or Kaitlyn.



(Especially for Alison, Kaitlyn and Maxwell
on Christmas 2008 from Grandpa Call)

The Parable of the Pilot

About 32 years ago when Barbara and I got married, he had about 20,000 hours in the air. Dad Faux was a pilot. Not just any pilot, he had flown more planes of more types than I can name, after all, 20,000 hours in the air is like ten years of regular 40 hour work weeks. He had been to Hawaii 55 times. He had flown bombing and fighting missions over Germany and France during World Ward II, had flown cargo and transport missions to Viet Nam, and hundreds of missions both secret and support in between. Last night at the viewing a few of Dad's flying friends told me that on one occasion Dad was flying a mission over Germany in WWII when 5 Messerschmidt's intercepted him. Because the P61 Black Widow night fighter was much more maneuverable and because he was a superior pilot, he was able to make a really tight turn and come back around on the Messerschmidts. He was able to shoot one down, do a quick dive and recovery and come up again under one forcing it into another nearby plane, thus taking out 3 of the 5 before heading for home. They (Bruce Despain) said that he was the best commander, a great pilot and even better person and friend.

He was not only a VFR (visual flight rules) rated pilot, but also an IFR (instrument flight rules) rated pilot. That means that he was trained to be able to fly safely avoiding other aircraft, mountains or obstacles or fly over the ocean where there are no landmarks and everything looks the same as far as the eye can see, using solely the instrument panel and radio guidance. Cruising in clouds or at night at altitudes over 30,000 feet and at speeds over 500 miles per hour he knew where he was going and how to get there safely.

Yes indeed, Dad Faux was a pilot. He would prepare and file his flight plan before taking off, taking all the necessary precautions to make his flight successful. Now flying is quite an interesting phenomenon. From the moment that the plane leaves the ground it is off course. Once airborne the pilot makes the necessary corrections and adjustments to get back on course. As he gains altitude, the winds change and again the plane is blown off course–sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. By consulting his instruments, checking his maps and monitoring his radio signal again the pilot makes the necessary corrections to get back on course. When the plane is encompassed in a cloud it is impossible for the pilot to see where he is going. During those times he must rely entirely on the instruments along with the signals emitted from the radio beacons strategically placed along the route to help with navigation. At night and in bad weather, with his radio to prompt him, he constantly adjusts and corrects to keep the plane on course. It is quite amazing that 99% of the time the plane is off course, but as long as the pilot makes the needed course corrections 100% of the time the plane makes it to the final destination.

You don't usually hear a lot from the pilot. He may welcome you aboard and give some basic instructions, maybe even point out a few interesting sights, but mostly he just quietly flies the plane. He tries to choose a route that will be least dangerous. One that won't bounce around so much as to make you air sick or spill your orange juice. He tries to make it a smooth flight.

Dad Faux has made his final earthly flight. It has been in character with his entire life. He knew his desired destination. He filed his flight plan long ago. He made the necessary course corrections by consulting with Mom, his ace co-pilot, using his maps and listening to those inspired signals. There was never any doubt if he was headed in the right direction. And what is more, he was helping all of us aboard to get our bearings right. He showed us how to use the maps and to listen for the signals. We will miss him–his strong, silent, keen sense of direction. We hope that we can remember what he taught us to make the corrections for ourselves now that he has let us fly on our own.

Our lives have been richer and our view more expansive because of you Dad and we will always remember and be grateful for all you have done for us. Among a myriad of other wonderful things, you taught us the "Parable of the Pilot" by the way you lived. Thank you. We love you.

Honoring Grandmother and Grandfather Faux

With Veterans Day approaching, and our thoughts and prayers turned to Grandmother and Grandfather Faux, it seems a good time to share memories of a conversation with them on Veterans Day in 2004, when we learned about their courage and sacrifice in protecting our country.

Grandfather was on active duty in the Air Force for ten years, and after that he was a reservist and worked as a civilian at Hill Air Force base. He logged 18,000 hours as a pilot and retired with the rank of Lieutenant Colonel. He flew a P-61 "Black Widow" fighter bomber in World War II. He flew night missions, including bombing runs and dog fights over France and Germany. As pilot, he was accompanied by a "radar" officer, who was located in the back of the plane. There were eight guns in the plane, four at the front and four in the rear. Grandfather could fire them with the touch of a button.

Grandfather said he lost four buddies in WW II, members of the group that he signed up with. (Grandmother’s aunt lost a son, and her aunt’s sister also lost a son.) Grandfather and two of his brothers fought in the war, but they all came home safely.

Grandfather said that one time when his aircraft was on the ground, the enemy bombed the area and the airplane next to his was destroyed. He participated in the ART program, where he helped to train new pilots.

Grandfather was scheduled to go to Korea, but his assignment was changed. He was also scheduled to go to Cuba during the Cuban missile crisis, but the mission was canceled just four hours before they were to leave. The Cuban missile crisis took place in 1962 during the Kennedy administration. At the time, Barbara was almost 11, Scott 13, and Nelson 15. Grandfather explained that at the time of the crisis the Russians were poised to take over Cuba and we were going to defend it. We commnted that Grandmother must have been very relieved when he didn’t have to go to Cuba, but she replied that she hadn’t even known about it because it was a secret mission. Evidently there were other secret missions that he did participate in that he couldn't talk about.

During the Vietnam war, Grandfather would switch from the reserves to active duty about every six weeks for two to three weeks or even a month at a time, to fly supply and bombing missions in Vietnam. He also carried soldiers who parachuted out over enemy territory. At the time he was a Major in the Air Force. Grandmother would be left home alone to watch over the children and handle all the decision-making and work by herself, all the while, no doubt wondering about Grandpa’s safety. It was a real sacrifice for them both.

We are very proud of you, Grandmother and Grandfather Faux, and grateful for your service to our country. We love you!

Apologies for Gifts

"Rings and other jewels are not gifts, but apologies for gifts. The only gift is a portion of thyself. Thou must bleed for me. Therefore the poet brings his poem; the shepherd, his lamb; the farmer, corn; the miner, a gem; the sailor, coral and shells; the painter, his picture; the girl, a handkerchief of her own sewing." (Ralph Waldo Emerson, Essay V - Gifts, 1844)


There is an old brown scarf at the very back of the shelf in the closet by the back door of Mom and Dad's home. Rather than knitting needles, it was made using big knitting sticks only slightly smaller than a horse's leg and the yarn was tripled to give it appropriate substance for the large sized stitches. It isn't really all that nice looking, but it shows evidence of being worn from time to time. It is a reminder of a Christmas long ago when our family was having a "make it" Christmas–when every gift we gave was homemade.
My dad was an architect and owned his own firm. I don't remember if it was a good year financially or not. In that business like many others there are ups and downs–some years quite good other years quite lean. One of the rules for our "make-it" Christmas was that we needed to save our own money and use it to buy all the materials for whatever we were making. We could also use things we had around the house as long as it was okay with Mom and Dad. I think I was almost a teenager and my sole source of income, as I recall, was the allowance my parents gave me for doing my responsibilities. (For some reason we did not call them chores.) Now my allowance was not particularly large, but it was adequate to buy a candy bar and go to the ten cent movie on occasion. Because it was rather meager, every penny counted. In those days there was such thing as penny candy–in fact there were some candies you could get two-for-a-penny. Mom and Dad carefully taught us how to figure our tithing: From every dime a penny, from every dollar a dime. They also taught us to save ten percent as well. Each of us children had a little bank in which to put our tithing and our savings.

Usually at Christmas time we were given a special allowance which we would use to buy gifts. Mom and Dad would split up with us kids as we would go shopping. We had to trade off parents and siblings from time to time so that we could keep each gift a secret from the intended recipient. I loved looking through the stores trying to find just the right gifts within my budget. For some reason Skaggs was one of my favorite stores. It had good bargains from my point of view and was right across the street from Woolworth's which was my second favorite store–it was a "dime store." Although I only had a few dollars it seemed that if I was careful I could get something for my brother and five sisters, my parents and a friend or two. But because this was a "make-it" Christmas, and without the special Christmas allowance, there was no way I could buy much at all. So I went downstairs into my room with the horse leg knitting needles and the brown yarn and proceeded to work on a scarf. We already had the yarn and I had learned to knit watching my sisters and mom.

As I "cast on" (I'll bet you didn't think I even knew what the term means never mind knowing how to do it.) the first row of stitches I tried to figure how wide to make the scarf, yet I also had to guess about how long to make it as well because I only had so much yarn. It turned out that there were only about 15 one-inch stitches across (Now that should tell you how large those stitches were.) and about 50 rows long. After completing the body of the scarf I put tassels on each end and voila'-- it was done. I was very proud of my accomplishment and even tried it on myself. It was warm and I thought it looked pretty good as well. Completed, I carefully folded and placed the scarf in a box, wrapped it, and hid it for Christmas.

On Christmas my parents always had great presents for us kids. We always got more than we gave and we always loved what we got. They just seemed to know just the right things to get. We would be so excited to open our gifts to see what we got, but we pretended not to be because it seemed more "grown-up" to be cool calm and collected. We would wait in the hallway and line up youngest to oldest and sing "marching ago" (I have no idea where that came from.) as we marched into the living room where the tree and presents were waiting. Again beginning with the youngest we would take turns opening gifts so we could all see what each other got and kind of celebrate together. Well this year I was excited, not so much because of what I was getting but because of what I was giving. My parents were going to be so surprised–not only because of the scarf but because I don't think they even knew that I could make something like that. Sure enough, it was just like I had imagined, when they took the gift they read "From Bruce" and they looked me in the eyes before opening it and smiled and said thank you. Then they unwrapped the box and saw the scarf. Again they looked me in the eyes and said thank you as Mom wrapped it around her neck. They were so appreciative and happy. I was so proud and my love for them seemed to almost boil over. There was a closeness that came because of that event mixed with a thousand others. I found that I wanted to do things for them to give them a pleasant surprise.

In retrospect I think about that Christmas and many others like it. It seems ironic that I used money from my allowance from Mom and Dad to get the gifts. Mom and Dad did not need the gifts. Sure they would put them to good use, but they did not need the gifts. But I, on the other hand, needed to give them. I could not bear the thought of not having a gift for them. I could just imagine what I would feel like if, after receiving and opening my gift from them, I had no gift for them. I am sure they would not have missed the gift (especially a home-made scarf made with knitting sticks), but we would not have had that meeting of the eyes and that closeness. They would have noticed, but they would not have said anything. I would have hidden myself rather than have nothing to give. In my mind's eye I could see that our relationship would become distant and I did not want that. Not because they needed the gift, nor would they be upset with me, but rather because I would have withdrawn from them. They would always be there with their "arms stretched out still!"

It was then that I had a glimpse into another relationship. One which is not all that different. We have been asked by our loving Heavenly Father to pay a simple tithe. God does not need the money. Certainly He will put it to good use through His church, but He does not need the money. On the other hand, I need to give the tithing and give it willingly. I need to feel that closeness that comes from doing what I am asked to do and knowing that He has received the gift with a warm loving smile. When I go to see the Bishop at tithing settlement, it is just that way. It is as if I am looking into the eyes of the Lord, and He calls me by name, and we feel that closeness when He says thanks; and I am glad. It is our exchange of an unspoken, "I love you." And I do not want to hide nor do I want to feel like I can't look Him in the eyes. I want to have that closeness and that unmistakable feeling of love.

The MTC is more than magical.

The atmosphere is electrifying and there is an excitement that is almost tangible when new missionaries enter the MTC and Craig was certainly no exception.

Putting on the missionary tame tag requires a certain feminine touch.

If you look closely you can see "Elder Call" and of course the name of the church in Mandarin.


After a brief welcome and introduction the missionaries filed out the door to the right and the families left on the left. Simple signage--difficult walk. It was easy to tell which were the missionaries and which were the family members, because the missionaries were all happy and enthusiastic and the family members were all teary eyed.


Elder Call will be a great missionary. Nevertheless we will miss him.

Before entering the "empty sea"

COUNTDOWN


At any given point in time it was quite a trick to know when Craig would enter the MTC in Provo--Yep, you had to somehow be close enough to see the fine print on the white board on the fridge. It was easy to see by his expression that Craig was dreading leaving home to venture into the unknown world of the mission field, especially Taiwan. On Monday before leaving Tucson, we asked Sam Rogers, recent return missionary from Taiwan, and his family over for Family Home Evening. The idea was to get a little more acquainted with the country, language, and the mission in general. We asked loads of questions including, "With all those Chinese characters, how do you look up a work in the dictionary?"

Sam responded, "One way is to count the strokes in the character, then look up the characters that have that number of strokes. There might be several hundred you will need to go through until you find the correct one."

We were aghast. "Incredible" we commented.

He said, "When you become a little more acquainted with the writing, it is also possible to identify the key 'radical' or group of strokes in the character, and then count the other strokes. That way you might have only a few characters to look through."

"If it is such a trick to look up characters, how do you get directions to find a place in the city?" we asked.

"Well, there were a few times when we never did find the place we were looking for." he responded with a smile.

With that as an appetizer Craig was ready to go and up for the challenge. He dived into the reference books he had and was starting on Mandarin characters in earnest. He will be great!


ON THE LINKS

Continuing a long established family tradition stemming way back to one other time (before Nathan left for his mission to Argentina), we ventured out for a family round of golf.

We hit the Mick Riley Golf Course on Saturday, August 2, at 9:29 a.m. (Not only did we hit the course, literally, our golf balls hit almost everything else as well.) It was easy to tell that we knew exactly what we were doing: We tried to go as a sevensome, even though only foursomes are allowed. The field marshal quickly spotted our group and had us split up to make two groups. So Camille, Bryan, Michelle, and Josh headed for the second hole even before finishing the first, while Craig, Mary Lee and I continued at hole one. We concluded that in addition to having a great time we also got a great value--We got more swings for our money than anybody else on the course. (Some of us got a much greater value than others.) We also contributed to the golf ball collections of several of the neighboring homes and often found that we hit more of the big ball (earth) than we did the little ball. Additionally we were usually too close to the ball even after we had hit it, unless of course it was on the greens where the opposite was the case. All in all it was lots of fun for us, even if the people behind us were about ready to abandon golf altogether or commit hara kiri.


THE NIGHT BEFORE

Like Craig, we were thrilled that we could have a small gathering of family and friends when Craig was set apart by Grandpa Scott the night before entering the MTC. It was doubly beneficial because each one there gave Craig one tid-bit of advice to help him in some way on his mission. It seemed that much of the advice applied in some way to each of us. We missed Nathan and Megan, and Grandma and Grandpa Faux, as well as their advice.

Grandpa Call, Josh, Bryan, Grandpa Scott, Craig, Truman Madsen, and I all participated.

Michelle, I, Craig, Camille, Bryan, and Mary Lee were all there.

Michelle (the camera gravitates to her), Teresa, Sarah, and Cathy came.

Grandma and Grandpa Call and Grandpa Scott were there.

Brother and Sister Madsen and their granddaughter Elizabeth were also there.

Now with a line-up like that you know that the advice was superb and their hearts were all in it. Elder Scott gave Craig a great blessing that was perfect preparation for his entering the MTC and thence going to Taiwan as a missionary.