Saturday we met some of our children, and a photographer, at Muller Park in Bountiful. The weather was chilly, but bearable. The tall Aspen trees swayed in the breeze, they beconed me, "come a little closer". The river was running very low as if to say, "please come sit on my rocks and enjoy this peace one more time. Which I did, as my 8 precious grandchildren ligned up across the bridge. As I looked at them all together my heart skipped a beat. I give thanks each day to be able to see this sight and to know that they are mine. There is history in the love that I feel for their parents. History that will be passed on to their children. It's important to me that the part of the story that I play is filled with imaganation and creativity, with a love of God and all his children, with endless devotion to family, and with purpose and meaning.
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