"Going up?"

Two of the reasons we chose to live where we do now is that the building has underground parking (no worries about scraping snow off the windshield after an all-night snow storm) and an elevator (no stairs to climb when bringing in the groceries). It's great.

As you approach the elevator you see the usual buttons: one for UP and the other for DOWN.
Why? Why not just one button? Since you don't know where the elevator is (down at the parking level, or up on the second floor, or right were you are, just waiting for you) what difference does it make which button you push?

The other day I was doing some home teaching with my wonderful 80-year-old "junior" companion, Ron. We both live here in Crescent Heights, and three of the four families we visit also live here. Ron lives on the first floor of his building and we were going to visit a sister on the second floor. I pushed the "DOWN" button and Ron said "I thought we were going UP." "We are," I said. "Didn't you push the wrong button?" he asked. I told him I didn't think it made any difference which button we pushed, the elevator would arrive.

He had a bit of difficulty accepting that, and was only convinced when, surprise, surprise---the elevator door opened.

So --Here's my question: Why are there two buttons on the outside of an elevator? Sure, it makes sense once you're in the elevator, where you even have your choice of floors. (In our far-from-high-rise complex we're fairly limited: P - 1 - 2.)

If any of you erstwhile bloggers can explain why there are two buttons outside, please make a comment.

Now --on to another question.

I wanted to find a picture of an elevator to use for this blog and I'm pretty proud of the one I found. But getting it onto the blog was quite a process.

First I opened my Print Shop program, typed "elevator" into the "FIND" and got a whole bunch of choices. I clicked on my choice and it came up on the screen. I cropped it to the size I wanted and printed it. Then I took the printed copy and scanned it, gave it a title ("elevator") and saved it in "My Scans".

Now I was ready to go ---but hey, if we can put a man on the moon there ought to be an easier way. Why doesn't someone (Dave? Amy? Ben?....) create a program where I can go directly from my PrintShop program to my blog without having to print and scan?

And if one of you out there shows me that I already can, I'll feel stupid, but will have learned something new for the day.

Stay tuned.

In Praise of Unsung Verses

Last Sunday the opening hymn for sacrament meeting in our ward was #116, "Come, Follow Me". It's one of my favorite hymns, and perhaps one of yours, too. At the end of the fourth verse, as usual, the chorister sat down and the organist stopped playing and we went on with the rest of the meeting. After the opening prayer, with my hymn book still open to #116, I began to read the two verses we NEVER sing and I began to wonder why.

Get out a hymn book (you do have one at home, don't you, perhaps with your name on it?) and turn to Hymn #116.Take a few moments to read verses 5 and 6. Note how the poet brings the whole theme to a beautiful conclusion by the last words,repeating "Come, follow me." Note, too, how the poem extends the thought into the eternities. I think the hymn would take on a much more powerful meaning if we sang all six verses.

So why don't we?

As a former stake president back in Oregon was fond of saying, "In the essence of time...."

We must get on with the meeting, because we have to stay on schedule because there are lots of announcements and ward business to take care of and because we still have two more meetings coming up.

But, except for the sacrament, when are we, as a congregation, brought more in harmony (word chosen deliberately) than when we are singing together? Why, in a church where we pride ourselves (rightfully so) on our love for music in our servies, do we give short shrift to the words of such poets as Parley P. Pratt, Charles W. Penrose, and, most notably, Eliza R. Snow?

It makes me wonder what those gifted poets must be thinking when they hear us cut their thoughts short.

I did a bit of research (i.e. looked in the hymn book) and found more than twenty hymns that have verses we rarely, if ever, hear sung in our meetings. For example:

#85 "How Firm a Foundation";

#100 "Nearer, My God, to Thee"

#145 "Prayer Is the Soul's Sincere Desire"

#195 "How Great the Wisdom and the Love"

etc., etc., etc.

Oh, I know I'm pleading a lost cause here. I don't really expect any ward music chairman anywhere, or any bishopric, or chorister, or organist (who is seldom consulted about what we sing) to start encouraging us to sing the whole hymn.

But I do have a suggestion that I hope some of you will consider. The next time your congregation sings a hymn where there are additional verses, take a moment during the meeting to quietly read "the rest of the story". I think you will be struck by how those unsung verses extend the range and bring a beautiful conclusion to the hymn.

Okay, now, all together ---you know the tune ---sing along with me:

"Be kind to your fine feathered friends

For a duck may be somebody's mother.

It lives in a place called a swamp,

Where it's always cold and damp.

Now you may think that this is the end,

Well it is."