This section is really part of the one we just left, but the thoughts did not advance in my memory at that writting so that they could be included. Just as well, there is something I feel should be incerted here to add to what will follow: so here goes!
As a parent, I was a pretty strict item. Very closely guarded who the kids kept as friends, and pretty on top of who they were with, or so I thought, and what they were doing, which I learned later was not always the case. I guess all parents live to discover some of this - be prepared!
In our neighborhood Paul was blessed with having a number of boys near his age with whom he could spend a great deal of time. It was not until he got his 10 speed bike that we started having to monitor those who wanted to draw Paul into 'their circle'. Now one of the faults we noticed during this space of time - ages 10 to about 16 - was Paul was a 'follower' and not the 'leader' we had hoped him to be. If this came from his cheery nature and quick wit, I cannot tell - it was just the way it was. Again as I look back, it could have been that he was eager to be with the 'bigger boys'. You see Paul never did gain a lot of height during this time, well not ever really!
Our home was one of a tract of homes that was built in what had been originally one of the beautiful Orange Groves that use to fill a goodly portion of Southern California. Our lot only had one pretty sorry speciman, which was taken out when we added the garage, but that is in another Blog, and need not be mentioned further here. The only reason I do bring it up at all is to relate one particular incident when Paul was I think 9 or 10. He and his neighbor buddies spent a good deal of time in the trees at the various homes. Next door to us lived the Parks on one side and the McGees on the other. This particular occurance took place in the Avacado Tree in the Parks back yard. It was quite a big tree so that all the boys could find a perch while they filled their fanciful dreams. This day, I don't recall what they were imagening - they decided to add tossing an Avacado back and forth. When of a sudden there was a loud scream and Paul came bounding out of the tree and over into our yard holding his hand and shaking violently. When I came to the door to see what the trouble was he could'nt talk, just held his hand up for me to see. At first it was difficult to know what the trouble was, no blood, and no swelling. Then I noticed what he was unable to articulate - there was a portion of an Avacado skin wedged under one of his fingernails. I quickly put him the car and took him to the Dr. (Back then we didn't go to the emergency room at the hospital like they do today.) The fingernail and the Avacado skin were both removed. Paul had a very sore finger for quite awhile following this brief encounter.
There was another incident, which happened I believe it was the Friday before he was to be ordained a Deacon. Incidently it was his birthday as well. Before I had left for work and the kids were leaving for school, Paul asked if he could go bike riding with some of the boys. I inquired who the 'boys' might be. When I learned their names, I forbid him to go with them. His bike had been a Christmas present to help him earn his distance riding Badge for his Scouting. The boys he named did not have the best of reputations for being the sort I wanted Paul to associate with. Their were others he had been doing some distant riding with that we approved of. Well, you can guess I suppose. When he got together with the 'boys' at school, they encouraged him to tag along, I would never know because he would be home before I got back from work. In fact I had mentioned I would be a bit late because I had ordered a special Birthday Cake for our evening meal. Taking a longer route home to pick the Cake up would make me about a half hour late. Jay was home long before I was, but the kids always knew their Dad was not as hard to please as Mom, so that would be O.K. (Or so the thought went.)
When Jay got home the neighbors who kept an eye out for the kids until either one of us got home came and told Jay that he would need to go to the local Police Station, they were holding Paul and some other boys until their parents got home. Jay hastily made the trip down to the Police Station to see what the problem could be. Upon arriving he found the boys all huddled in one of the offices looking pretty grim as you may well imagine. Out poured the sad tale. They had been riding along the railroad tracks, which everyone knows is Railroad Property and is posted as a 'do not traspass zone'. The boys assured Jay they were not 'doing anything but riding'. HOWEVER there was a Railroad Detective in that area that day inspecting things and arrested the boys. He called ahead to see if there was any problem with the train that had just passed. He was informed there were a number of broken windows - Ah HA - those boys had been throwing stones at the train. They denied this, but to no avail.
Each boy had to post I believe it was something like $60.00 to be released. This to repair the damage to the train. Jay wrote a check for Pauls portion of the fine, and he brought Paul home. Now - we wait until
MOM comes! Ulck!
I got home about a half hour after Jay and Paul got there. It was all over the neighborhood of course, and kids were standing in the street, yards, etc. I don't know if they thought there would be an earthquake when I heard the news or what, but they were expecting something rather exciting. I put the cake on the table and stood to hear the bad news. All the while Paul sat in a chair with his head lowered and afraid of what the outcome of this breech would bring his way. I listened quietly and with a great deal more calm than I felt inside. After Jay had finished his part of the affair, I turned to Paul and asked what he had to say for himself on the subject. He apologized and in hind sight realized just why I had told him not to go. I quietly said, then that is that, I hope you have learned a lesson from all of this. It kind of puts a damper on your Birthday, but here is your Cake and I will get dinner finished so we can eat. The meal was pretty quiet. Dawn shooting glances first at one and then another of those seated at the Table. Very little was said. The table was cleared while Paul remained seated and I got the dishes washed. Finally he had to know: "what are you going to do to me MOM?" I asked him: "what have you been doing all this time - since you were hauled into the police station waiting for you Dad and then brought home to wait for me?" Of course he replied: "worring about what you would do!" I said: "then I think you have been punished enough - go do your homework - we will not talk about this again. I don't recall Paul being with those boys again, or giving us any such problem after that. Or at least not to my recollection that is.
That of course was not the end of Paul chosing friends that were far beneath those he should have associated with. I won't go into any others, but upon talking to him these past few years he confessed he had not had the best idea of what friends should be. Among those he really learned to appreciate were some with whom he rode his Harley. They seemed to have had a great deal of their own problems and valued a true friend enough to be careful in their associations. Paul seemed to have learned how to pick friends more worthy of his friendship when he got older. Possibly because he no longer needed to 'match up'. What ever the case, he had a great many worthy friends in his later life, and even gleaned a number much younger than himself, who cherished his friendship, and I believe that is the greatest compliment I can leave for this portion of my writing.
So until the next section - keep tuned in!
Writting this 5th day of March 2011
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Uncle Paul Part Three
I had promised you some fill in on some subjects I left dangling in Parts One and Two. I hope to complete some of that now!
First I believe I will start with Paul and Athletics.
Paul always wanted to play ball and be active, but he was the smallest one in his classes, and was never seriously concidered for the 'team'. He did however go out for baseball one year. It was when he was about 8 I believe. When he made the team he was excited. We had a long talk about the time and energy that would have to go into being a member of a team. The time to practice, the time to be at the games etc. It came up that a number of the games that season would be played on Sunday. Paul had just been baptised and wanted to fill all the requirements of his membership in the Church. We talked it over and it was left up to Paul which he would chose. Fulfilling his responsibility to the Team and play all the games, or for go being on the Team to fulfill his duty to be at Church every Sunday. Paul wanted to have 100% attendance. After some time deciding, he with drew from the Team and had 100% attendance from then through his Aaronic Priesthood years. Which netted him his
'Duty to God' award.
Speaking of his Priesthood beginnings I feel it might be of interest to note here that when Paul was 15 one of the Mothers in our Ward (name not remembered at this writting) came to me and asked when Paul would be ordained a Priest. I answered not until December when he turned 16. She said: "well than we will pospone my sons baptism until December, I want Paul to do it." Her husband was not a member and she had noticed Paul and had watched him as he progressed in the Church. He had impressed her as a good example for her own son. So Paul performed his first Baptism shortly after he turned 16 in December 1963.
Continuing on this line now, it should be explained that Paul was always exact in his performance in the Priesthood. He was 100% in his Home Teaching Assignment. As his Dad was not active at this time, he was the one to remind his Partner it was time to set the appointments to visit their families. He was usually at the Sacrament Table each Sunday and ready to accept any other assignment that was presented to him.
When we left Pico Rivera and moved to Taft, Paul did not find the same 'spirit' in the Taft Ward. The small town had formed a very small minded group. The Church being small, with some in it more concerned that a 'certain example' be set for the entire town by the members; I don't think their was a single member of our family that was not effected by this attitude. A trial that we all had to overcome. I am not saying all the Members were so narrow minded, but the Rosenbergs were city folk, and had to learn how to conduct themselves suitably. We did not however learn, but we did 'endure'. I only mention this because it had bearing on Paul putting in his papers for his Mission. I won't name names during this part of the history I am producing, only let you know that the Bishop at the time was a singularly minded fellow, who wanted his Priesthood boys to meet HIS idea of what they should be. Whether Paul was too 'free' of spirit or what I do not know, but the Bishop through a number of interviews made Paul understand he needed to 'shape up' before he would consent to submit his papers. To which Paul quickly stated: "well then I will just submit my papers through my former Ward, where they have no problem with my conduct, or attitude." Needless to say, the Bishop did not want that to happen so after some time did submit the papers. When it came time for Paul to be ordained an Elder, this same Bishop let us understand that it would be 'he' who chose who would ordained Paul and that it must of necessity be done in his office at the Church. By this time, my 'Irish' had been raised and I contacted the Stake President who was most clear on that subject. Paul could be ordained by any worthy member he chose and in what ever place he felt was fitting. Our final dealing with this Bishop was when we attended Sacrament meeting one Sunday and he announced what Mission Paul had been called to. We had not received Pauls letter at this time. Needless to say we were all upset over this. Pauls letter did not come for another week.
Speaking of Taft, I should mention that when we moved there during Oildorado, Paul was introduced to some young men who formed a band and asked Paul to be part of it. He played drums and was their lead singer. (One of the main objections I believe of the Bishop). I made vests for them, and they had a pretty successful run. Played for a number of things during Oildorado (which was in October after we had moved to Taft in June) and some dances through out that winter and spring.
As for Pauls Dress. He was rather a stylish kid. He wanted to dress with pants that had to be cleaned. I did not see the necessity of the expense, but if that was his choice, he could pay for the cleaning, I would purchase the pants. This ment Paul needed some money. He went to the Barber Shop that was on the Blvd. and got a job sweeping up and cleaning the shop. Wasn't a big paying job, but took care of cleaning two pair of pants each week with some left over, after paying his tithing of course.
Oh, I guess I should mention another job he had, for a short time. One of his friends, also a member of the Church offered to let Paul take over his Newspaper Route. It wasn't a big job, but he could make a few extra dollars every month so he accepted. He faithfully delivered the papers and then set about going to each person collecting for the service. He was well received, and collected successfull. After counting out his money and paying his tithing, he was shocked when the boys mother appeared at the front door demanding the money Paul had collected. Her son had delivered the papers and the funds were his. Paul explained that he had already paid tithing on the money and surrendered what was left. She in a huff left. The next day the boy came to Paul and was embarassed and sorry for the trouble. Confessing that was why he wanted to give the route up, his mother took all the money he collected and he didn't have anything to show for his effort. Needless to say Paul didn't continue in this endeavor from then on.
Now to Seminary - when Paul was attending, every student had a choice. They could attend 3 years and get a certificate or attend 4 years and receive a diploma. Paul opted for the 4 year term. Not all the kids did in that area. When he graduated he received his diploma from the hand of LeGrande Richards, who was invited to speak at the Graduation Ceremony. That was a thrill for Paul.
Then to Scouting. Paul was one of those who took to the routine set out by the Scouts with relish. He advanced regularly and was busy with every effort the troup had for making money with was used to pay for their outstanding camping trips. He had some of the best Scout Masters and family support any Scout could wish for. One of the biggest money makers they had was with a farmer who offered to let them sell eggs for him. Paul developed a great route with canvasing the neighborhood and both work places of his Dad and myself. They made a lot of money that year and were able to outfit the trailer with all the things they needed for successful camp outings. Paul was quick to help the younger scouts with their Merit Badge challenges. In fact I believe he became one of the Senior Scouts that spent many hours teaching Morris Code to those who wanted to pass that Badge. He was known as the Chaplin of his Troup. When ever they went on trips, he was the one who was asked to listen to problems of his fellow Scouts. He would find a spot where they could set and talk things out quietly. Always willing to listen and ready to give support when and where ever it might be needed.
Pauls Eagle Award. The night Paul was to have his Board of Review, his Dad was working. He asked a family friend to go with him in his Dads place. The evening was special because the friend did not have a Son and was most anxious to have this experience with Paul. Things went well, and we assumed that everything would follow in neat order. We were sadly mistaken. The man who was in charge was in the process of moving. He had all Pauls papers in his briefcase. He never submitted them. After some months an inquiry was made and proof was required to see that the proper papers might be submitted. The family friend was contacted and made the necessary information available as to time place, who was there, etc. The only problem was the matter was settled some time later and all the things that would have been presented at a Court of Honor were unceremoniously sent to Paul in the Mail. Thats right, Paul never had a Court of Honor. He received his award IN THE MAIL!
By now wouldn't you think Paul would have thought he was being picked on? Well he may have felt that way, but even with the amount of set backs and unfortunate incidents he had to pass through, he seemed to keep a stiff upper lip and 'carried on'. Never the question: "why me"!?
I have often wondered why one soul had to pass through so much in his early life, but then I hadn't a clue as to what yet lay ahead of him. Possibly this was all the pre-conditioning needed for what was to follow?
Thus ends this portion of our narrative. More later -
Written this 5th day of March 2011
by: Eileen Rosenberg
First I believe I will start with Paul and Athletics.
Paul always wanted to play ball and be active, but he was the smallest one in his classes, and was never seriously concidered for the 'team'. He did however go out for baseball one year. It was when he was about 8 I believe. When he made the team he was excited. We had a long talk about the time and energy that would have to go into being a member of a team. The time to practice, the time to be at the games etc. It came up that a number of the games that season would be played on Sunday. Paul had just been baptised and wanted to fill all the requirements of his membership in the Church. We talked it over and it was left up to Paul which he would chose. Fulfilling his responsibility to the Team and play all the games, or for go being on the Team to fulfill his duty to be at Church every Sunday. Paul wanted to have 100% attendance. After some time deciding, he with drew from the Team and had 100% attendance from then through his Aaronic Priesthood years. Which netted him his
'Duty to God' award.
Speaking of his Priesthood beginnings I feel it might be of interest to note here that when Paul was 15 one of the Mothers in our Ward (name not remembered at this writting) came to me and asked when Paul would be ordained a Priest. I answered not until December when he turned 16. She said: "well than we will pospone my sons baptism until December, I want Paul to do it." Her husband was not a member and she had noticed Paul and had watched him as he progressed in the Church. He had impressed her as a good example for her own son. So Paul performed his first Baptism shortly after he turned 16 in December 1963.
Continuing on this line now, it should be explained that Paul was always exact in his performance in the Priesthood. He was 100% in his Home Teaching Assignment. As his Dad was not active at this time, he was the one to remind his Partner it was time to set the appointments to visit their families. He was usually at the Sacrament Table each Sunday and ready to accept any other assignment that was presented to him.
When we left Pico Rivera and moved to Taft, Paul did not find the same 'spirit' in the Taft Ward. The small town had formed a very small minded group. The Church being small, with some in it more concerned that a 'certain example' be set for the entire town by the members; I don't think their was a single member of our family that was not effected by this attitude. A trial that we all had to overcome. I am not saying all the Members were so narrow minded, but the Rosenbergs were city folk, and had to learn how to conduct themselves suitably. We did not however learn, but we did 'endure'. I only mention this because it had bearing on Paul putting in his papers for his Mission. I won't name names during this part of the history I am producing, only let you know that the Bishop at the time was a singularly minded fellow, who wanted his Priesthood boys to meet HIS idea of what they should be. Whether Paul was too 'free' of spirit or what I do not know, but the Bishop through a number of interviews made Paul understand he needed to 'shape up' before he would consent to submit his papers. To which Paul quickly stated: "well then I will just submit my papers through my former Ward, where they have no problem with my conduct, or attitude." Needless to say, the Bishop did not want that to happen so after some time did submit the papers. When it came time for Paul to be ordained an Elder, this same Bishop let us understand that it would be 'he' who chose who would ordained Paul and that it must of necessity be done in his office at the Church. By this time, my 'Irish' had been raised and I contacted the Stake President who was most clear on that subject. Paul could be ordained by any worthy member he chose and in what ever place he felt was fitting. Our final dealing with this Bishop was when we attended Sacrament meeting one Sunday and he announced what Mission Paul had been called to. We had not received Pauls letter at this time. Needless to say we were all upset over this. Pauls letter did not come for another week.
Speaking of Taft, I should mention that when we moved there during Oildorado, Paul was introduced to some young men who formed a band and asked Paul to be part of it. He played drums and was their lead singer. (One of the main objections I believe of the Bishop). I made vests for them, and they had a pretty successful run. Played for a number of things during Oildorado (which was in October after we had moved to Taft in June) and some dances through out that winter and spring.
As for Pauls Dress. He was rather a stylish kid. He wanted to dress with pants that had to be cleaned. I did not see the necessity of the expense, but if that was his choice, he could pay for the cleaning, I would purchase the pants. This ment Paul needed some money. He went to the Barber Shop that was on the Blvd. and got a job sweeping up and cleaning the shop. Wasn't a big paying job, but took care of cleaning two pair of pants each week with some left over, after paying his tithing of course.
Oh, I guess I should mention another job he had, for a short time. One of his friends, also a member of the Church offered to let Paul take over his Newspaper Route. It wasn't a big job, but he could make a few extra dollars every month so he accepted. He faithfully delivered the papers and then set about going to each person collecting for the service. He was well received, and collected successfull. After counting out his money and paying his tithing, he was shocked when the boys mother appeared at the front door demanding the money Paul had collected. Her son had delivered the papers and the funds were his. Paul explained that he had already paid tithing on the money and surrendered what was left. She in a huff left. The next day the boy came to Paul and was embarassed and sorry for the trouble. Confessing that was why he wanted to give the route up, his mother took all the money he collected and he didn't have anything to show for his effort. Needless to say Paul didn't continue in this endeavor from then on.
Now to Seminary - when Paul was attending, every student had a choice. They could attend 3 years and get a certificate or attend 4 years and receive a diploma. Paul opted for the 4 year term. Not all the kids did in that area. When he graduated he received his diploma from the hand of LeGrande Richards, who was invited to speak at the Graduation Ceremony. That was a thrill for Paul.
Then to Scouting. Paul was one of those who took to the routine set out by the Scouts with relish. He advanced regularly and was busy with every effort the troup had for making money with was used to pay for their outstanding camping trips. He had some of the best Scout Masters and family support any Scout could wish for. One of the biggest money makers they had was with a farmer who offered to let them sell eggs for him. Paul developed a great route with canvasing the neighborhood and both work places of his Dad and myself. They made a lot of money that year and were able to outfit the trailer with all the things they needed for successful camp outings. Paul was quick to help the younger scouts with their Merit Badge challenges. In fact I believe he became one of the Senior Scouts that spent many hours teaching Morris Code to those who wanted to pass that Badge. He was known as the Chaplin of his Troup. When ever they went on trips, he was the one who was asked to listen to problems of his fellow Scouts. He would find a spot where they could set and talk things out quietly. Always willing to listen and ready to give support when and where ever it might be needed.
Pauls Eagle Award. The night Paul was to have his Board of Review, his Dad was working. He asked a family friend to go with him in his Dads place. The evening was special because the friend did not have a Son and was most anxious to have this experience with Paul. Things went well, and we assumed that everything would follow in neat order. We were sadly mistaken. The man who was in charge was in the process of moving. He had all Pauls papers in his briefcase. He never submitted them. After some months an inquiry was made and proof was required to see that the proper papers might be submitted. The family friend was contacted and made the necessary information available as to time place, who was there, etc. The only problem was the matter was settled some time later and all the things that would have been presented at a Court of Honor were unceremoniously sent to Paul in the Mail. Thats right, Paul never had a Court of Honor. He received his award IN THE MAIL!
By now wouldn't you think Paul would have thought he was being picked on? Well he may have felt that way, but even with the amount of set backs and unfortunate incidents he had to pass through, he seemed to keep a stiff upper lip and 'carried on'. Never the question: "why me"!?
I have often wondered why one soul had to pass through so much in his early life, but then I hadn't a clue as to what yet lay ahead of him. Possibly this was all the pre-conditioning needed for what was to follow?
Thus ends this portion of our narrative. More later -
Written this 5th day of March 2011
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Uncle Paul Part Two
As I left our narrative, Paul was around 3 years of age. I believe that is a good place to start. As I had told you, we were living in Huntington Park, CA with my parents: John and Edith Smith and my older brother Ralph. This ment that Paul was in the company of mostly grown ups. I believe this helped to create the sharp intellect he developed. Right or wrong on that score, he was very bright!
Mom had her hands full trying to keep up with her things, and looking after Paul so as soon as he qualified, we found a 'pre-school' for him and he took to it like a duck takes to water. Being with other kids and being exposed to so many new things he just blossomed. As a result, he was ready for school long before his age qualified him for entrance into kintergarden. I believe this was a draw back for Paul. He was sharp and when in classes where he could do things faster than his other classmates, he sort of sat back and waited for everyone else to catch up with him. That worked fairly well until he was in about the 3rd grade. It was then he found he was lagging behind. Either you are paying attention and 'getting it' or you find yourself wondering what just happened! It was in the fourth grad that the teacher asked me why Paul was such a 'day dreamer'. When I asked her what she ment she explained that while the other kids were soaking up things, Paul was looking out the window in such deep thought that she asked him what he was thinking about and his reply - are you ready for this one? Are their lights on Niagra Falls?
Had nothing to do with the lesson, and to my knowledge we had never talked about Niagra Falls. Go figure?
Well it only goes to follow that from here on, Paul struggled with his school work. Oh, I don't mean he failed, it was just that he either liked it, or he just didn't care to put in the effort. His mind was quick and active, but it seemed to drift into the avenues that best interested him. He could have mastered anything he set his mind to, as we know from his later years, but for this time, he just didn't seem to care.
Elementary school he managed fine, even Junior High. He wasn't an 'A' student, but he got good grades in the subjects that he liked. I believe we hit a snag when he started High School. This I will admit was through no fault of his. We were on the border line of two towns. One being Santa Fe Springs the other Pico River. Santa Fe Springs had just built a new High School, and it was decided that some of the new Freshman would be sent to Santa Fe Springs High School. Now under normal circumstances this would not seem to be such a big thing, only kids who Paul went to Church with and many he had gone through school with up through the 8th grade were going to attend El Rancho High School that was just a couple of blocks from our Church building and Paul would of course be starting Seminary (before school Religous Class - for our non-member readers).
Santa Fe Springs High School was in another part of the community which ment getting up earlier to make Seminary and a longer drive to get to school afterward. So, Paul had his Freshman year at Santa Fe Springs. Not a happy time either. When, at the end of the Freshman year, it was decided those students living on the other side of the River would be going to El Rancho High School. Which ment Paul was shifted to another High School for his Sophomore year. He was happy, but of course he was the 'new kid on the block' so it was like starting all over again. His Junior year was better, he was settled, ready to make a place for himself in school, and earned his place in the Honor Choir for his Senior year. The Choir had received an invitation to travel to Europe for a Concert Series. He was thrilled to have such an opportunity.
Well - as great as this all sounds, fate had other plans and Paul was not able to be part of this great adventure. Why, you ask? Jay had been in business for himself for some time by then, work had dropped off and he had to strike out with a number of other Owner-Opporators. They drove the length of the State of California looking for work for their trucks. Jay and another driver were able to find a short term job in Taft, CA. It was not the most glamourous place to find work, but it was promising and they were willing to accept the offer on a handshake deal that lasted for 8 years. This of course ment that a change in residence would be necessary. Paul was, to say the least, upset over this. We didn't blame him, but when you have to make a living, and it can't be done where you are, these things must be handled.
We heard all the grumbling with very sympathetic ears, but could only promise it would all work out. (Easy for us to say!) Little did any of us know that was really the case! The year was 1965 Oildorado was the big thing in Taft that year. Paul was able to grow a beard, a nice one too, so he could participate in the 'whiskorino contest'. He could possibly have won it, but the rule at Taft High School was that no Student could have a beard. So it had to come off. Well, another set back.
Now for a little information here - we came from the 'city' and Taft was a 'country' town. The boys wore blue jeans and white T-shirts and tennis shoes. Where Paul had been going to school, the boys wore dress pants,
dress shirts and dress shoes. What a striking difference he presented that first day at Taft High. You couldn't miss him, that is for sure. Every girl on the campus was turning her head to witness such a 'good looking' new comer. (I believe I will have to take another part to explain something about Paul and his dress - look for that coming up!)
Not only did he look different, but he WAS different. Something that amazed Paul in his later years, was how everyone in his class believed he had attended all 4 years with them, when in reality he had only been in their Senior Class. Why, well he was voted into the Student Council, he was active in just about everything that didn't deal with sports. Being small in stature, he wasn't athletic. (I believe I will deal with that subject under another part!) He made a multitude of friends, both male and female. When he graduated, he quickly enrolled in Taft Community College and again fit in with ease. Upon learning they didn't have male cheer leaders he inquired about this and was told if he wanted to be on the squad, they would accept him, only he would have to supply his own outfit. We bought him a pair of black slacks and found a white sweater that had black and gold striping similar to the ones the girls on the squad wore. He became part of the Squad and enjoyed his part, who wouldn't being the only guy with all those girls? This was a great year. Taft had an exceptional Football team and after winning their division, received an invitation to participate in the Potato Bowl. I believe it was in Oklahoma, but don't hold me to that, it has been so many years, I am not absolute on the location. Of course Paul had to pay his own way. It wasn't a cheap trip. A family council was held and it was decided that his finances would be his Christmas Gift for that year. (I do believe he found a little something else under the tree that year too.) I don't remember if the team won or lost, but I do remember that Paul came home thrilled and happy.
Just one final note. One of Pauls Professors at College talked to me about him and said he found Paul to have an outstanding mind, able to do great things with his education, but he just lacked the ability to stick to it. I
explained it was something we had struggled with all through Pauls school years. Bright enough, but just not able to buckle down and put the time into study. Just too personable. Fun to be around, etc. If Paul lacked for the scholarly talents he was capable of, he made up for that lack in his ability to attract friends and develope a close tie with those he attracted. Loyal, friendly and fun. Those were the school years of Uncle Paul. (I hastily add, he never stopped reading, and learning. I believe he had about one of the sharpest minds that was full of so much Trivia, he could charm any conversation on just about any subject that might come up, or he might start.)
Until our next session - keep tuned in!
Written this 5th day of March 2011
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Mom had her hands full trying to keep up with her things, and looking after Paul so as soon as he qualified, we found a 'pre-school' for him and he took to it like a duck takes to water. Being with other kids and being exposed to so many new things he just blossomed. As a result, he was ready for school long before his age qualified him for entrance into kintergarden. I believe this was a draw back for Paul. He was sharp and when in classes where he could do things faster than his other classmates, he sort of sat back and waited for everyone else to catch up with him. That worked fairly well until he was in about the 3rd grade. It was then he found he was lagging behind. Either you are paying attention and 'getting it' or you find yourself wondering what just happened! It was in the fourth grad that the teacher asked me why Paul was such a 'day dreamer'. When I asked her what she ment she explained that while the other kids were soaking up things, Paul was looking out the window in such deep thought that she asked him what he was thinking about and his reply - are you ready for this one? Are their lights on Niagra Falls?
Had nothing to do with the lesson, and to my knowledge we had never talked about Niagra Falls. Go figure?
Well it only goes to follow that from here on, Paul struggled with his school work. Oh, I don't mean he failed, it was just that he either liked it, or he just didn't care to put in the effort. His mind was quick and active, but it seemed to drift into the avenues that best interested him. He could have mastered anything he set his mind to, as we know from his later years, but for this time, he just didn't seem to care.
Elementary school he managed fine, even Junior High. He wasn't an 'A' student, but he got good grades in the subjects that he liked. I believe we hit a snag when he started High School. This I will admit was through no fault of his. We were on the border line of two towns. One being Santa Fe Springs the other Pico River. Santa Fe Springs had just built a new High School, and it was decided that some of the new Freshman would be sent to Santa Fe Springs High School. Now under normal circumstances this would not seem to be such a big thing, only kids who Paul went to Church with and many he had gone through school with up through the 8th grade were going to attend El Rancho High School that was just a couple of blocks from our Church building and Paul would of course be starting Seminary (before school Religous Class - for our non-member readers).
Santa Fe Springs High School was in another part of the community which ment getting up earlier to make Seminary and a longer drive to get to school afterward. So, Paul had his Freshman year at Santa Fe Springs. Not a happy time either. When, at the end of the Freshman year, it was decided those students living on the other side of the River would be going to El Rancho High School. Which ment Paul was shifted to another High School for his Sophomore year. He was happy, but of course he was the 'new kid on the block' so it was like starting all over again. His Junior year was better, he was settled, ready to make a place for himself in school, and earned his place in the Honor Choir for his Senior year. The Choir had received an invitation to travel to Europe for a Concert Series. He was thrilled to have such an opportunity.
Well - as great as this all sounds, fate had other plans and Paul was not able to be part of this great adventure. Why, you ask? Jay had been in business for himself for some time by then, work had dropped off and he had to strike out with a number of other Owner-Opporators. They drove the length of the State of California looking for work for their trucks. Jay and another driver were able to find a short term job in Taft, CA. It was not the most glamourous place to find work, but it was promising and they were willing to accept the offer on a handshake deal that lasted for 8 years. This of course ment that a change in residence would be necessary. Paul was, to say the least, upset over this. We didn't blame him, but when you have to make a living, and it can't be done where you are, these things must be handled.
We heard all the grumbling with very sympathetic ears, but could only promise it would all work out. (Easy for us to say!) Little did any of us know that was really the case! The year was 1965 Oildorado was the big thing in Taft that year. Paul was able to grow a beard, a nice one too, so he could participate in the 'whiskorino contest'. He could possibly have won it, but the rule at Taft High School was that no Student could have a beard. So it had to come off. Well, another set back.
Now for a little information here - we came from the 'city' and Taft was a 'country' town. The boys wore blue jeans and white T-shirts and tennis shoes. Where Paul had been going to school, the boys wore dress pants,
dress shirts and dress shoes. What a striking difference he presented that first day at Taft High. You couldn't miss him, that is for sure. Every girl on the campus was turning her head to witness such a 'good looking' new comer. (I believe I will have to take another part to explain something about Paul and his dress - look for that coming up!)
Not only did he look different, but he WAS different. Something that amazed Paul in his later years, was how everyone in his class believed he had attended all 4 years with them, when in reality he had only been in their Senior Class. Why, well he was voted into the Student Council, he was active in just about everything that didn't deal with sports. Being small in stature, he wasn't athletic. (I believe I will deal with that subject under another part!) He made a multitude of friends, both male and female. When he graduated, he quickly enrolled in Taft Community College and again fit in with ease. Upon learning they didn't have male cheer leaders he inquired about this and was told if he wanted to be on the squad, they would accept him, only he would have to supply his own outfit. We bought him a pair of black slacks and found a white sweater that had black and gold striping similar to the ones the girls on the squad wore. He became part of the Squad and enjoyed his part, who wouldn't being the only guy with all those girls? This was a great year. Taft had an exceptional Football team and after winning their division, received an invitation to participate in the Potato Bowl. I believe it was in Oklahoma, but don't hold me to that, it has been so many years, I am not absolute on the location. Of course Paul had to pay his own way. It wasn't a cheap trip. A family council was held and it was decided that his finances would be his Christmas Gift for that year. (I do believe he found a little something else under the tree that year too.) I don't remember if the team won or lost, but I do remember that Paul came home thrilled and happy.
Just one final note. One of Pauls Professors at College talked to me about him and said he found Paul to have an outstanding mind, able to do great things with his education, but he just lacked the ability to stick to it. I
explained it was something we had struggled with all through Pauls school years. Bright enough, but just not able to buckle down and put the time into study. Just too personable. Fun to be around, etc. If Paul lacked for the scholarly talents he was capable of, he made up for that lack in his ability to attract friends and develope a close tie with those he attracted. Loyal, friendly and fun. Those were the school years of Uncle Paul. (I hastily add, he never stopped reading, and learning. I believe he had about one of the sharpest minds that was full of so much Trivia, he could charm any conversation on just about any subject that might come up, or he might start.)
Until our next session - keep tuned in!
Written this 5th day of March 2011
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Friday, March 4, 2011
Uncle Paul Part One
As I have thought about this subject, it has become apparent that pictures would be nice as well as the things I have to share. Therefore, I have asked Keara Damery to add pictures as this epistle progresses. At this point, I have no idea just how many 'parts' there may be, but we will move forward with this project in the knowledge it will take some space to tell and document with pictures. Bear with me!
Paul LaMar Rosenberg (Uncle Paul) was born on the 20th day of December in 1947. I doubt many babies arrive into this world with so much trauma. I don't mean just the act of being issued from their mothers body, but the treatment that quickly follows that experience. For Paul he was nearly drowned by the nurse who was cleaning him. As it was explained to me she had him by the feet with one hand and holding his neck in the other was passing him under a flowing faucet. He
jurked, either because the water was too cold or hot, who knows. The nurse lost control of him for a second and he got a face full of flowing water. Nearly drowning him. When they first brought him to me he had to be kept with his head lower than his feet to help relieve his lungs.
Thus began life in mortality for Paul.
He was not the prettiest baby. His head was large, he was cross eyed and his feet and hands were huge for so small a body. Hands very square with stout finders that displayed fingernails that were completely encircled with some kind of infection. We never did know why or what caused it. It was over a week before the material surrounding his fingernails hardened and dropped off. He never had any problems after that but is was strange!
He always had a prounounce 'widows peak' hairline, and when he grew older, his beard had the same outline. Very striking.
Paul quickly grew into his hands, feet and head. In fact his whole appearance changed in a short time, and he began to have blonde hair. At first it appeared his hair would be dark. Of course his eyes were dark so we had no idea that he would turn out to have such beautiful blue eyes. Not the color of his paternal Grand Fathers, but still blue. His hair turned out to be 'curly' and after a very short time everyone took him to be a girl; that really upset me. Oh, Pauls hair. You need to know that it took two of us holding him to wash his hair. His after birth experience instilled in him a dreadful fear of water that we never were able to totally overcome. Of this we will speak of later.
Paul had a cousin Connie Renee Smith who was born in October before he arrived. As it turned out they were to have a very close relationship when Paul was about 19 months old. Grandma Smith had to take care of Connies' mother, Aunt Willetta, because she had developed a serious infection in her ring finger from changing dirty diapers. At the same time, Paul took pneumonia and was very serious ill for a couple of weeks.
Jay would bring us into Grandma Smiths when he went to work so I could get some rest - being up a good portion of every night caring for Paul in our own home. Those were scarey days - again lung problems. Something that seemed to haunt Paul all of his life. He ever after was suseptable to Broncitis, which he had throughout his life.
When Paul was around three years old, Jay was recalled to the Navy to serve during the Korean War. Paul and I lived with my parents in Huntington Park. I had to go to work, so Grandma Smith again became the primary care giver. During this time, not around any kids you mind,
he had Measles and Chicken Pox in a 30 span of time. Really a sick little boy, but he managed to overcome it all and continue in his great happy spirit.
We had a rare experience when Jay returned from Korea in time for Chirstmas. He came into San Francisco and decided to 'thumb' his way home. By mistake thinking that things were as they had been when he served during the Second World War. Not so, those who took the bus gave him a raze ma taz when they rolled by him as he stood in the cold waiting for someone to pick him up. That Christmas Eve was undoubtedly the worst he or his family ever spent! As we waiting to decorate the Christmas Tree and Paul dogging us every little bit about: "when will daddy be here", we waited growing first exasperated and then down right mad. Ralph, my older brother decided to go ahead and put the tree up, Paul had fallen asleep. Much, much later the phone rang and Jay asked me to come pick him up in town. What a sight! As I drove up, I see Jay hanging on at lamp post drunk as a skunk. It appears that he finally got a ride home in a car with no heater. As they drove further south along the beach areas, the driver insisted they stop and get a drink to get warmed up. Jay, more anxious to get home, as you can imagine, was willing to oblige just for the sake of continuing quickly. Jay did not however 'drink'.
The driver insisted they have a shot of wiskey to warm them up. Of course such a drink caused Jay to make a 'face'. Well, that was not 'how you do it'! So another round was ordered, and this was repeated until the driver was satisfied that Jay could down the liquid without making a face. Result, he was soused! After 18 months you can imagine my feelings, and of course feel for the young boy who had so patiently waited to see his 'daddy' after so long an absence. Jay fell on the bed as soon as I got him in the house. Being drunk and cold, the heat just hit him and out he went. The result, his Navy Uniform in the morning was covered with lint from the bedspread and he was furious. Soooooo!?
Jay was soon discharged and returned home and normal life. We moved back into our home and Paul rejoined his friends and things, as it would appear, would return to normal. However, as we shall see, things are not always able to continue in such great expectations.
Thus on to Part Two
Written this 4th day of March 2011
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Paul LaMar Rosenberg (Uncle Paul) was born on the 20th day of December in 1947. I doubt many babies arrive into this world with so much trauma. I don't mean just the act of being issued from their mothers body, but the treatment that quickly follows that experience. For Paul he was nearly drowned by the nurse who was cleaning him. As it was explained to me she had him by the feet with one hand and holding his neck in the other was passing him under a flowing faucet. He
jurked, either because the water was too cold or hot, who knows. The nurse lost control of him for a second and he got a face full of flowing water. Nearly drowning him. When they first brought him to me he had to be kept with his head lower than his feet to help relieve his lungs.
Thus began life in mortality for Paul.
He was not the prettiest baby. His head was large, he was cross eyed and his feet and hands were huge for so small a body. Hands very square with stout finders that displayed fingernails that were completely encircled with some kind of infection. We never did know why or what caused it. It was over a week before the material surrounding his fingernails hardened and dropped off. He never had any problems after that but is was strange!
He always had a prounounce 'widows peak' hairline, and when he grew older, his beard had the same outline. Very striking.
Paul quickly grew into his hands, feet and head. In fact his whole appearance changed in a short time, and he began to have blonde hair. At first it appeared his hair would be dark. Of course his eyes were dark so we had no idea that he would turn out to have such beautiful blue eyes. Not the color of his paternal Grand Fathers, but still blue. His hair turned out to be 'curly' and after a very short time everyone took him to be a girl; that really upset me. Oh, Pauls hair. You need to know that it took two of us holding him to wash his hair. His after birth experience instilled in him a dreadful fear of water that we never were able to totally overcome. Of this we will speak of later.
Paul had a cousin Connie Renee Smith who was born in October before he arrived. As it turned out they were to have a very close relationship when Paul was about 19 months old. Grandma Smith had to take care of Connies' mother, Aunt Willetta, because she had developed a serious infection in her ring finger from changing dirty diapers. At the same time, Paul took pneumonia and was very serious ill for a couple of weeks.
Jay would bring us into Grandma Smiths when he went to work so I could get some rest - being up a good portion of every night caring for Paul in our own home. Those were scarey days - again lung problems. Something that seemed to haunt Paul all of his life. He ever after was suseptable to Broncitis, which he had throughout his life.
When Paul was around three years old, Jay was recalled to the Navy to serve during the Korean War. Paul and I lived with my parents in Huntington Park. I had to go to work, so Grandma Smith again became the primary care giver. During this time, not around any kids you mind,
he had Measles and Chicken Pox in a 30 span of time. Really a sick little boy, but he managed to overcome it all and continue in his great happy spirit.
We had a rare experience when Jay returned from Korea in time for Chirstmas. He came into San Francisco and decided to 'thumb' his way home. By mistake thinking that things were as they had been when he served during the Second World War. Not so, those who took the bus gave him a raze ma taz when they rolled by him as he stood in the cold waiting for someone to pick him up. That Christmas Eve was undoubtedly the worst he or his family ever spent! As we waiting to decorate the Christmas Tree and Paul dogging us every little bit about: "when will daddy be here", we waited growing first exasperated and then down right mad. Ralph, my older brother decided to go ahead and put the tree up, Paul had fallen asleep. Much, much later the phone rang and Jay asked me to come pick him up in town. What a sight! As I drove up, I see Jay hanging on at lamp post drunk as a skunk. It appears that he finally got a ride home in a car with no heater. As they drove further south along the beach areas, the driver insisted they stop and get a drink to get warmed up. Jay, more anxious to get home, as you can imagine, was willing to oblige just for the sake of continuing quickly. Jay did not however 'drink'.
The driver insisted they have a shot of wiskey to warm them up. Of course such a drink caused Jay to make a 'face'. Well, that was not 'how you do it'! So another round was ordered, and this was repeated until the driver was satisfied that Jay could down the liquid without making a face. Result, he was soused! After 18 months you can imagine my feelings, and of course feel for the young boy who had so patiently waited to see his 'daddy' after so long an absence. Jay fell on the bed as soon as I got him in the house. Being drunk and cold, the heat just hit him and out he went. The result, his Navy Uniform in the morning was covered with lint from the bedspread and he was furious. Soooooo!?
Jay was soon discharged and returned home and normal life. We moved back into our home and Paul rejoined his friends and things, as it would appear, would return to normal. However, as we shall see, things are not always able to continue in such great expectations.
Thus on to Part Two
Written this 4th day of March 2011
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
"Teaching, No Greater Call"
Well, that is what Elder Boyd K. Packer says, and I believe he is correct! It has seemed to be my lot; being put into that classification. Not by any desire on my part, only by a natural course of events I have passed through since I joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints back in 1952.
My first call came from the Missionaries that Baptized me. (I know that is not the formal way of doing things in the Church, but the Ward was in the process of preparing to build a new Meeting House, and the Bishop was a very busy man at the time. I guess he felt the need for a new member on the Primary Board and gave the Elders the responsibility of asking me to take the Sunbeam Class.) I had no idea what that was, but when I learned they were very small children, I ventured the 'leap of faith' and accepted.
They told me where and when to be there to teach these 'sweet things' and I obeyed. I was welcomed by the Sisters at Prayer Meeting. Having received my teaching manual from the Missionaries, I was prepared as best I could, under the circimstances.
Each week was a nerve racking experience. I didn't know very much more than these 'little ones' and I had a certain amount of fear weighing me down. What if I taught them a 'false doctrine'? I wouldn't, of course do so with any fore thought, but I could certainly fall into that trap out of the lack of knowledge I started out with.
As it turned out, they didn't leave me in that calling long. However it was during this time I learned there were meeting that would help me prepare for each week. The reason I hadn't gone, simple, I had no idea there were such meetings. Being 'green' I missed out on an awful lot. Once I got my footing, and felt a bit more secure in what I was doing, I felt the need for more study. Soon, I found myself called to teach the Blazer Boys. This was soon followed by moving me up to the Trekker Class of boys. Mostly these kids were great, but they did have the deeply routed desire to see just how far they could go with any new teacher. It was a real test for both sides. I guess that was the beginning of me laying down rules - you act like 'gentlemen' I act like a 'lady'. They soon learned I would give tit for tat. Things went pretty smoothly from then on. (It wasn't until later in life I learned from one of those boys, after he had been on his Mission; that they learned early on just how far they could 'push my buttons'. I always had long finger nails, usually painted a red color. I would stand behind a chair while teaching and hold onto the back of the chair. When I had reached my 'max' with their ornary actions, he informed me, I would begin to tap my finger nails on the back of the chair. That was when they knew to 'knock it off'.) It appeared then I lacked a great deal more control than I gave myself credit for. Oh well, we live and learn.
You know, as I look back on it, I never taught a single class of girls in Primary or MIA. I guess the girls were too much of a challenge for me! It was, however, in those years of going to Stake Meetings and having the great experience of attending Relief Society and enjoying the expertise of some pretty great teachers that I began to grow and develope as a teacher. There was a hunger to know more, to be informed about more than just the basics. I would attend anything that I felt would help me broaden my base. This included day long sessions in "Know Your Religion". They don't have that here anymore, I feel it is a sore loss to those who come into the Church and have no place to expand their knowledge of the Gospel through setting at the feet of so many talented and knowledgeable teachers. Many of those who inspired me have now gone on to 'higher areas' to share their great teaching abilities.
I could go on, and on about many of the things I have done, but it was one such 'teaching interlude' that got me thinking about my past. I am not sure it will interest any of you that much, but it was one of the 'moments' that I shall ever remember and hold very close to my heart.
I had been called to teach Relief Society. The basis of Study that year was the Life of Christ in the New Testiment. The other Sisters in the Anaheim Stake who were teaching this material developed quite a bond, and worked together in gathering material to share. Six Sisters working on separate phases of the topic brought a broader outlook to every Ward in the Stake. In fact I remember spending hours in the Univesity of California Fresno in their Library studying out of books that were no where else available to us. I wish I had the copies of the pages we made. I learned a very great deal about the life and times of Christ. It would be great to look over those pages again and again to refresh my memory.
The last class of the year was one I had worked especially hard on. My classes were the best attended in our Ward, and I wanted to leave the topic with a very special experience for every Sister who would be there. Jay and I looked for just the right picture of Jesus. When we found it, Jay took it and put, I forget, how many coats of clear lacquer over it. Letting each one dry before he would put the next coat on. We bought a very special frame for it and then went to the Pharmacy and got a bottle of glisterine (sp). What they use in the movies to make tears for the actors.
With the picture prepared as it had been, I hoped I could produce an effect that would make the figure cry. It was a very important conclusion to my lesson that day. We experimented with the picture many times, and each time it was effective, but only for a short time. The drop would run off very quickly. So I decided to have the drop put on when the picture was laying flat, leave it flat until the very last moment then lean the picture ever so slightly for the tear to run down 'slowly'. When the day came, I had all my visual aids put out on the table. I had asked a number of the Sister to participate, which they did. One particularly gave me a detail following the class I will share with you later.
Needless to say, this was one of the most spiritual presentation I have ever made. I had worked over it with very special care, and hoped it would not be too theatrical, but would bring home the one point I felt everyone of the Sister needed to take away that day. I followed my outline to perfection. The other Sisters added their portion with great success. When I came to the end of the lesson, I had but one point to make. Of all the things Christ did, the one that brought home His love for us all was, that He wept. So my last words were: "and Jesus Wept!". I brought the picture up and the tear I had placed in the corner of His eye slowly began to fall. To my amazement, as I sat down, the tear remained on the cheek of the Lords face. We had the closing song and prayer, and the tear remained on the cheek. It wasn't until the class was leaving and I was putting my things away that the drop ran off onto the frame of the picture.
Now to the other Sister. She came to me after the class and in tears said she had practiced for over a week how to say those words: "and Jesus Wept". It was to be part of her presentation. She was amazed as she went through her material, she could not say those words. As she would come to that part, she would have another thought that would take her away from saying them. It happened three times. When she saw the close of the class, she understood why she had been unable to speak the words she had so carefully prepared for her part of the lesson.
I have used that picture with a tear in Seminary Classes and in other Relief Society classes. It never was as impressive by holding like it did that first time. That picture now hangs in my bedroom. It brings back many memories of a time when I was in tune with the Savior and able to bring the moment when He showed His greatest love for His children. In fact I think I still have that bottle of glisterine somewhere around as well.
Teaching is not a matter of just reading over the material, but having an ingrained knowledge and testimony that what is on the printed page is improtant, and that every person in that class is spending their time with the teacher to be uplifted and edified. Not a moment should be wasted with unimportant chatter. If the teacher believes what they are teaching, it will become so important that nothing less that the very most valuable information should be shared. A quick read through will not do that. A teacher needs to have gone the 'extra mile' in preparation to give every person in that class something of worth to take away.
Someone asked me after teaching those Relief Society Lessons how much time I put in, in preparing. We had 40 minutes a month on those lessons. When I sat down and looked over what we had done, I found I had put in at least 40 hours of work. The other Sisters had done a great deal as well. I could never have given everything I had learned, but it made a great resource for all the other lessons I taught since then. I believe I understand the statement made by Lynne Lund when her husband Gerald complained one time about not having enough time to prepare for a particular lecture. She said to him: "Gerald, you have been preparing for 20 years". I think, in some ways, I have done a similar thing. I have forgotten more than I can remember, but have retained enough when an opportunity arises, and I put myself into the material, my mind unfolds things I have studied and the message is given with the testimony I have of the truthfulness of what I am sharing.
You cannot teach what you have not studied, and you cannot bear a testimony of something you do not believe. I have been blessed to set at the feet of many wonderful teachers who have inspired and impressed me with their ability to gain, retain and then share their knowledge. It is the time spent that makes the difference. For every hour of teaching I have ever done, I have spent at least 4 hours in gathering and preparing. It has not been a labor, rather it has been time enjoyed in recalling things I have loved learning and love even more sharing.
Over the years I have taught hundreds of Seminary Students. I never knew how much of an impression I made - well, not until recently when Facebook came into my life. I have received a number of requests to be added as a friend. In a number of those request I had no idea who it was that was asking. When I accepted them, I learned they were past students who were telling me how much their Seminary Classes had ment to them, and how I was remembered as their teacher. I guess it is true, a teacher will likely never know how far reaching their efforts went until they are in the eternities. If the effort was well spent, there will be blessings. If the job was poorly done, there will be those questions: "why didn't you tell me?" There are never second chances when it comes to teaching. It is either well done, or not at all. A five minute run through just won't do, even if you have spent 20 years elsewhere gaining knowledge. Oh, I have given a five minute talk on the spur of the moments notice, but that is a whole other subject.
If you are called to teach, remember one thing, Robert J. Matthews taught me years ago. When you are called to teach, you represent the Lord in that class room. You owe it to yourself and to those in the room with you to be prepared and teach by the spirit. He told us as Seminary Teachers: "we have given you an over abundance of material, you may teach any of it, you may teach all of it, or none of it; but you must never leave out the Scriptures and you must always listen to the Spirit. Very good advice from a very great source.
I feel blessed indeed to have been called over and over again as a teacher of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I have enjoyed every opportunity and feel sad that age now limits me in such calls. It seems even speaking is no longer something I am asked to do. Which means I look forward to other opportunities beyond the vail to again assist others in finding the truth and accepting the knowledge the Gospel holds for everyone.
I have never held a leadership possition in the Church. Well I guess that is not important, I have done that which was most enjoyable to me, and hopefully beneficial to others.
Written this 21st day of December 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
My first call came from the Missionaries that Baptized me. (I know that is not the formal way of doing things in the Church, but the Ward was in the process of preparing to build a new Meeting House, and the Bishop was a very busy man at the time. I guess he felt the need for a new member on the Primary Board and gave the Elders the responsibility of asking me to take the Sunbeam Class.) I had no idea what that was, but when I learned they were very small children, I ventured the 'leap of faith' and accepted.
They told me where and when to be there to teach these 'sweet things' and I obeyed. I was welcomed by the Sisters at Prayer Meeting. Having received my teaching manual from the Missionaries, I was prepared as best I could, under the circimstances.
Each week was a nerve racking experience. I didn't know very much more than these 'little ones' and I had a certain amount of fear weighing me down. What if I taught them a 'false doctrine'? I wouldn't, of course do so with any fore thought, but I could certainly fall into that trap out of the lack of knowledge I started out with.
As it turned out, they didn't leave me in that calling long. However it was during this time I learned there were meeting that would help me prepare for each week. The reason I hadn't gone, simple, I had no idea there were such meetings. Being 'green' I missed out on an awful lot. Once I got my footing, and felt a bit more secure in what I was doing, I felt the need for more study. Soon, I found myself called to teach the Blazer Boys. This was soon followed by moving me up to the Trekker Class of boys. Mostly these kids were great, but they did have the deeply routed desire to see just how far they could go with any new teacher. It was a real test for both sides. I guess that was the beginning of me laying down rules - you act like 'gentlemen' I act like a 'lady'. They soon learned I would give tit for tat. Things went pretty smoothly from then on. (It wasn't until later in life I learned from one of those boys, after he had been on his Mission; that they learned early on just how far they could 'push my buttons'. I always had long finger nails, usually painted a red color. I would stand behind a chair while teaching and hold onto the back of the chair. When I had reached my 'max' with their ornary actions, he informed me, I would begin to tap my finger nails on the back of the chair. That was when they knew to 'knock it off'.) It appeared then I lacked a great deal more control than I gave myself credit for. Oh well, we live and learn.
You know, as I look back on it, I never taught a single class of girls in Primary or MIA. I guess the girls were too much of a challenge for me! It was, however, in those years of going to Stake Meetings and having the great experience of attending Relief Society and enjoying the expertise of some pretty great teachers that I began to grow and develope as a teacher. There was a hunger to know more, to be informed about more than just the basics. I would attend anything that I felt would help me broaden my base. This included day long sessions in "Know Your Religion". They don't have that here anymore, I feel it is a sore loss to those who come into the Church and have no place to expand their knowledge of the Gospel through setting at the feet of so many talented and knowledgeable teachers. Many of those who inspired me have now gone on to 'higher areas' to share their great teaching abilities.
I could go on, and on about many of the things I have done, but it was one such 'teaching interlude' that got me thinking about my past. I am not sure it will interest any of you that much, but it was one of the 'moments' that I shall ever remember and hold very close to my heart.
I had been called to teach Relief Society. The basis of Study that year was the Life of Christ in the New Testiment. The other Sisters in the Anaheim Stake who were teaching this material developed quite a bond, and worked together in gathering material to share. Six Sisters working on separate phases of the topic brought a broader outlook to every Ward in the Stake. In fact I remember spending hours in the Univesity of California Fresno in their Library studying out of books that were no where else available to us. I wish I had the copies of the pages we made. I learned a very great deal about the life and times of Christ. It would be great to look over those pages again and again to refresh my memory.
The last class of the year was one I had worked especially hard on. My classes were the best attended in our Ward, and I wanted to leave the topic with a very special experience for every Sister who would be there. Jay and I looked for just the right picture of Jesus. When we found it, Jay took it and put, I forget, how many coats of clear lacquer over it. Letting each one dry before he would put the next coat on. We bought a very special frame for it and then went to the Pharmacy and got a bottle of glisterine (sp). What they use in the movies to make tears for the actors.
With the picture prepared as it had been, I hoped I could produce an effect that would make the figure cry. It was a very important conclusion to my lesson that day. We experimented with the picture many times, and each time it was effective, but only for a short time. The drop would run off very quickly. So I decided to have the drop put on when the picture was laying flat, leave it flat until the very last moment then lean the picture ever so slightly for the tear to run down 'slowly'. When the day came, I had all my visual aids put out on the table. I had asked a number of the Sister to participate, which they did. One particularly gave me a detail following the class I will share with you later.
Needless to say, this was one of the most spiritual presentation I have ever made. I had worked over it with very special care, and hoped it would not be too theatrical, but would bring home the one point I felt everyone of the Sister needed to take away that day. I followed my outline to perfection. The other Sisters added their portion with great success. When I came to the end of the lesson, I had but one point to make. Of all the things Christ did, the one that brought home His love for us all was, that He wept. So my last words were: "and Jesus Wept!". I brought the picture up and the tear I had placed in the corner of His eye slowly began to fall. To my amazement, as I sat down, the tear remained on the cheek of the Lords face. We had the closing song and prayer, and the tear remained on the cheek. It wasn't until the class was leaving and I was putting my things away that the drop ran off onto the frame of the picture.
Now to the other Sister. She came to me after the class and in tears said she had practiced for over a week how to say those words: "and Jesus Wept". It was to be part of her presentation. She was amazed as she went through her material, she could not say those words. As she would come to that part, she would have another thought that would take her away from saying them. It happened three times. When she saw the close of the class, she understood why she had been unable to speak the words she had so carefully prepared for her part of the lesson.
I have used that picture with a tear in Seminary Classes and in other Relief Society classes. It never was as impressive by holding like it did that first time. That picture now hangs in my bedroom. It brings back many memories of a time when I was in tune with the Savior and able to bring the moment when He showed His greatest love for His children. In fact I think I still have that bottle of glisterine somewhere around as well.
Teaching is not a matter of just reading over the material, but having an ingrained knowledge and testimony that what is on the printed page is improtant, and that every person in that class is spending their time with the teacher to be uplifted and edified. Not a moment should be wasted with unimportant chatter. If the teacher believes what they are teaching, it will become so important that nothing less that the very most valuable information should be shared. A quick read through will not do that. A teacher needs to have gone the 'extra mile' in preparation to give every person in that class something of worth to take away.
Someone asked me after teaching those Relief Society Lessons how much time I put in, in preparing. We had 40 minutes a month on those lessons. When I sat down and looked over what we had done, I found I had put in at least 40 hours of work. The other Sisters had done a great deal as well. I could never have given everything I had learned, but it made a great resource for all the other lessons I taught since then. I believe I understand the statement made by Lynne Lund when her husband Gerald complained one time about not having enough time to prepare for a particular lecture. She said to him: "Gerald, you have been preparing for 20 years". I think, in some ways, I have done a similar thing. I have forgotten more than I can remember, but have retained enough when an opportunity arises, and I put myself into the material, my mind unfolds things I have studied and the message is given with the testimony I have of the truthfulness of what I am sharing.
You cannot teach what you have not studied, and you cannot bear a testimony of something you do not believe. I have been blessed to set at the feet of many wonderful teachers who have inspired and impressed me with their ability to gain, retain and then share their knowledge. It is the time spent that makes the difference. For every hour of teaching I have ever done, I have spent at least 4 hours in gathering and preparing. It has not been a labor, rather it has been time enjoyed in recalling things I have loved learning and love even more sharing.
Over the years I have taught hundreds of Seminary Students. I never knew how much of an impression I made - well, not until recently when Facebook came into my life. I have received a number of requests to be added as a friend. In a number of those request I had no idea who it was that was asking. When I accepted them, I learned they were past students who were telling me how much their Seminary Classes had ment to them, and how I was remembered as their teacher. I guess it is true, a teacher will likely never know how far reaching their efforts went until they are in the eternities. If the effort was well spent, there will be blessings. If the job was poorly done, there will be those questions: "why didn't you tell me?" There are never second chances when it comes to teaching. It is either well done, or not at all. A five minute run through just won't do, even if you have spent 20 years elsewhere gaining knowledge. Oh, I have given a five minute talk on the spur of the moments notice, but that is a whole other subject.
If you are called to teach, remember one thing, Robert J. Matthews taught me years ago. When you are called to teach, you represent the Lord in that class room. You owe it to yourself and to those in the room with you to be prepared and teach by the spirit. He told us as Seminary Teachers: "we have given you an over abundance of material, you may teach any of it, you may teach all of it, or none of it; but you must never leave out the Scriptures and you must always listen to the Spirit. Very good advice from a very great source.
I feel blessed indeed to have been called over and over again as a teacher of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I have enjoyed every opportunity and feel sad that age now limits me in such calls. It seems even speaking is no longer something I am asked to do. Which means I look forward to other opportunities beyond the vail to again assist others in finding the truth and accepting the knowledge the Gospel holds for everyone.
I have never held a leadership possition in the Church. Well I guess that is not important, I have done that which was most enjoyable to me, and hopefully beneficial to others.
Written this 21st day of December 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Saturday, December 11, 2010
What A Wonderful Time Of The Year!
As many of you know, I am connected, all be it loosely, with Sing Noel. It has been a very long journey from September till this first week in December, but we made it. Last night was our first performance, or should I say their first performance. I just stand around and watch. Well and listen too. The time spent has been most valuable. Not only in seeing the production coming together, but for the marvelous sound that was producted with the number of times the Choir had to sing each piece to get it in shape for last night. I had to admit that once they began to sing, the heavens seemed to open, and others joined in those sweet melodies.
We of course missed Bishop Kenneth Mallett at the podium as narrator, but I have to say Elder Bob Banfield did an outstanding job and his delivery was most effective as he set the stage for the Choir to sing their next piece of music. Elder Lenny Zinn did a superb job of directing, and I believe everyone in the choir loved working with him this year. Sister Melodie Kunz once again delivered a wonderful script with beautiful videos to bring a special spirit to the entire evening. The audience was most appreciative, and it was gratifying to see so many come up to the Choir Members and express their thoughts on the production. There will be another performance Sunday Evening. I do hope more will hear about it and come to this wonderful program.
Christmas I know is ment to be a time of merriment and lots of fun, good food and comradery, but it is always great to have things like Sing Noel to bring us back to the 'reason for the season'. As the Prophet put it, drop the last cylible of the word and you have Chirst. That is what it is all about. Though we as Latter-day Saints know that our Savior was born in the spring of the year, it is nice to have this time of year to remember such a momentous event in time. One just seems to think of the lonely Shepherds on the hills with their sheep on a cold crisp night. Their robes wrapped tightly around them as they watch over their flocks in the dark. What a spectacular sight that Star must have been. Lighting the sky and the surround area. Pointing the way to the stable where the little family was huddled together. I can't help but think of the man who had accepted the responsiblity of 'fatherhood' to this wonderous little 'babe' who laid in the humble bed of hay. How he had protected that sweet young mother as she carried and delivered this child. It would seem that the love of this man was most special. His willingness to be witness and to carry out the reponsibility of seeing this infant raised to go forth on his great mission. We seldom think of Joseph, but I like to remember him as a very important part of the Chirstmas Story.
Which makes me think of the many young families everywhere who have taken on the great task of brining children into this world and helping them find themselves through the many trials and adventures that await them as they pass through life. I am pleased to see the young husbands take an active part in the process. It is so important to have both parents envolved in raising children. Husbands and wives need to remember their spouses in loving and tender ways, like Joseph treated Mary. Willingly protecting her in a very serious cituations. I am sure he used soft words and tender touches to let Mary know that he was supporting her in every way. A soft word can be such a help in difficult times. In our everyday lives, it seems we are quick to lose patience and say things that may hurt, but, if we follow Jospehs example, we could avoid such moments and remember that as Joseph and Mary were 'called' to this great experience, each of us, seek out a mate whom we feel we can spend and eternity with. Should we not then strive to emulate the great example that Joseph and Mary set for us. Mary was quick to accept the charge of being the mother of Jesus. Joseph just as quickly accepted his part in the drama that was about to unfold to mankind. Though our 'call' is not as historic, we are never the less ment to met the challenges with just as much thought and effort as they did.
During this season, much love is expressed, and effort made to seek out things that will gladden the heart. It would be something if we could carry some of the spirit of Christmas with us 24/7 during the 365 days we have each year. Mothers finding the sweetness of Mary toward their children and the great appreciation for their husbands. Husbands to find the great strength that Joseph found in his 'calling' to be the father of such a great individual. We never know, we may be raising another leader or great talent. Fathers take over the charge to see needs are met in the family, but in doing so he must never forget that a womens work is never done and putting aside small things to express support will bring rich dividends.
We live in a fast paced world. We are warned and fore warned that times will soon change and we will have to be prepared to meet all the challenges that lay ahead. We will find the support at home one of the greatest blessings we have. Extended families lend help at times, and need to be appreciated for their willingness to step in when that help is needed. Repaying such kindness should be a paramount part of our family relationships. I can remember how greatful we have been over the years for the help my parents extended to Jay and I as we were getting started. They gave us the down payment for our first home. It wasn't a great amount according to todays standards, but it was far more than we had, and made such a difference in our lives. I will admit it wasn't easy to pay it back as fast as we would have liked, but we had learned well the addage, "neither a borrower or lender be". Having that responsibility lifted was such a great blessing. I guess with both of our parents families being raised in such poor circumstances we realized that that help had been gathered and hard come by years of frugalness and in some cases doing without personally. Mary and Joseph probably never had such support in their lives. Aren't we pleased to know that times have changed, but never forget they may change back. There are many lessons to be learned.
Well Christmas is upon us again, and like so many 'good things' in life, will just as quickly go as it has come. Our part is to take what blessings there are in store for us this year, enjoy, appreciate and then set ourselves towards a New Year that will give us more wonderous opportunities to grow and become all that we can be. Life is all too short to spend time looking back. My goal this next year is to follow the brethern. Get out of debt and get supplied to take care in any eventuality that may occur. I guess the years of working in both Boy and Girl Scouting has rubbed off on me; I want to 'be prepared'. I wish the same for each of you.
Written this 11 day of December 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
We of course missed Bishop Kenneth Mallett at the podium as narrator, but I have to say Elder Bob Banfield did an outstanding job and his delivery was most effective as he set the stage for the Choir to sing their next piece of music. Elder Lenny Zinn did a superb job of directing, and I believe everyone in the choir loved working with him this year. Sister Melodie Kunz once again delivered a wonderful script with beautiful videos to bring a special spirit to the entire evening. The audience was most appreciative, and it was gratifying to see so many come up to the Choir Members and express their thoughts on the production. There will be another performance Sunday Evening. I do hope more will hear about it and come to this wonderful program.
Christmas I know is ment to be a time of merriment and lots of fun, good food and comradery, but it is always great to have things like Sing Noel to bring us back to the 'reason for the season'. As the Prophet put it, drop the last cylible of the word and you have Chirst. That is what it is all about. Though we as Latter-day Saints know that our Savior was born in the spring of the year, it is nice to have this time of year to remember such a momentous event in time. One just seems to think of the lonely Shepherds on the hills with their sheep on a cold crisp night. Their robes wrapped tightly around them as they watch over their flocks in the dark. What a spectacular sight that Star must have been. Lighting the sky and the surround area. Pointing the way to the stable where the little family was huddled together. I can't help but think of the man who had accepted the responsiblity of 'fatherhood' to this wonderous little 'babe' who laid in the humble bed of hay. How he had protected that sweet young mother as she carried and delivered this child. It would seem that the love of this man was most special. His willingness to be witness and to carry out the reponsibility of seeing this infant raised to go forth on his great mission. We seldom think of Joseph, but I like to remember him as a very important part of the Chirstmas Story.
Which makes me think of the many young families everywhere who have taken on the great task of brining children into this world and helping them find themselves through the many trials and adventures that await them as they pass through life. I am pleased to see the young husbands take an active part in the process. It is so important to have both parents envolved in raising children. Husbands and wives need to remember their spouses in loving and tender ways, like Joseph treated Mary. Willingly protecting her in a very serious cituations. I am sure he used soft words and tender touches to let Mary know that he was supporting her in every way. A soft word can be such a help in difficult times. In our everyday lives, it seems we are quick to lose patience and say things that may hurt, but, if we follow Jospehs example, we could avoid such moments and remember that as Joseph and Mary were 'called' to this great experience, each of us, seek out a mate whom we feel we can spend and eternity with. Should we not then strive to emulate the great example that Joseph and Mary set for us. Mary was quick to accept the charge of being the mother of Jesus. Joseph just as quickly accepted his part in the drama that was about to unfold to mankind. Though our 'call' is not as historic, we are never the less ment to met the challenges with just as much thought and effort as they did.
During this season, much love is expressed, and effort made to seek out things that will gladden the heart. It would be something if we could carry some of the spirit of Christmas with us 24/7 during the 365 days we have each year. Mothers finding the sweetness of Mary toward their children and the great appreciation for their husbands. Husbands to find the great strength that Joseph found in his 'calling' to be the father of such a great individual. We never know, we may be raising another leader or great talent. Fathers take over the charge to see needs are met in the family, but in doing so he must never forget that a womens work is never done and putting aside small things to express support will bring rich dividends.
We live in a fast paced world. We are warned and fore warned that times will soon change and we will have to be prepared to meet all the challenges that lay ahead. We will find the support at home one of the greatest blessings we have. Extended families lend help at times, and need to be appreciated for their willingness to step in when that help is needed. Repaying such kindness should be a paramount part of our family relationships. I can remember how greatful we have been over the years for the help my parents extended to Jay and I as we were getting started. They gave us the down payment for our first home. It wasn't a great amount according to todays standards, but it was far more than we had, and made such a difference in our lives. I will admit it wasn't easy to pay it back as fast as we would have liked, but we had learned well the addage, "neither a borrower or lender be". Having that responsibility lifted was such a great blessing. I guess with both of our parents families being raised in such poor circumstances we realized that that help had been gathered and hard come by years of frugalness and in some cases doing without personally. Mary and Joseph probably never had such support in their lives. Aren't we pleased to know that times have changed, but never forget they may change back. There are many lessons to be learned.
Well Christmas is upon us again, and like so many 'good things' in life, will just as quickly go as it has come. Our part is to take what blessings there are in store for us this year, enjoy, appreciate and then set ourselves towards a New Year that will give us more wonderous opportunities to grow and become all that we can be. Life is all too short to spend time looking back. My goal this next year is to follow the brethern. Get out of debt and get supplied to take care in any eventuality that may occur. I guess the years of working in both Boy and Girl Scouting has rubbed off on me; I want to 'be prepared'. I wish the same for each of you.
Written this 11 day of December 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
Sunday, November 21, 2010
From Boy to Man
In cleaning out some boxes I thought had pictures in them, I found this talk I had prepared sometime in 2002. I don't even know if I gave the talk. There is no indication on the papers that I did, or didn't. I was struck however with the content, and thought it was worth sharing with the family.
- 0 -
In poverty and lacking in education, a boy, of no consequence; is stirred in his heart and soul to discover religious truth. He pays attention to the conversations between his own family members, even sought out opportunities to hear from local and itinerant ministers, hoping from their messages; answers to his questions would come. However, finding nothing but confusion in these so called 'messages', he returned once more to his Bible. Reading in the Epistle of James he found courage to go directly to the source of truth. He would find out for himself - directly.
Apparently from family training this young lad had faith and adequate knowledge to feel that an answer, that had not been forthcome from all his experiences, might be received if he braved the lonely task of simply asking the believed in 'power' personally.
So simple a solution, but never knowingly explored by anyone who truly believe in the possiblity of receiving an answer. Not a vocal youth, and timid, he sought out a private place. A place of serenity and solitude. Looking around to assure the privacy he sought, he knelt and offered his simple question: "Which is right?" So simple and yet so totally honest and sincere a suplication. No wonder Father heard. Unfortunately Satan, ever alert, heard as well. He, Satan, used all of his ways to frighten and to disallusion this lone young boy into fleeing and abondoing his quest. The boy, however, was seized and held down. It is then, frightened and fearing his life was in great danger, still assured by his faith that he could receive help in this dark moment; cried out for that help, and it was quickly given. Thick darkness gave way to light. A light that grew brighter and brighter until it surpassed any before seen by the boy. A witness in and of itself which gave the boy new hope. So, here, the first two great principles were realized: faith and hope. It is little wonder then that charity, the pure love of God, unconditional love brought peace and recognition of 'glory'.
Because the boy was of such a tender age and trained will in respect for elders it seems perfectly natural that he would remain to see and to hear what was forth coming from God and the Savior. We have no recording of the interview, only a thumbnail sketch, but from this momentous occasion the boy made a 'giant step' into the reality of truth and love which would be the foundation upon which many 'new things' would come forth until some 20 plus years, boy to man, Gospel Light would
be shed upon many so that the world could start its' final journey toward exaltation. Those who would see, might see. While those who heard, would hear. Truth cuts like a two edged sword - so not all would be healed who might, if they would but 'follow'.
Joseph Smith, Jr. a prophet, seer and revelator; spent his time wisely, learned his own lessons well, and grew in stature and spirit. He followed counsel as it was given. He knew how to keep sacred things. He would lead any of those who would follow; giving his life for those things he had both learned and taught. He earned 'Life Eternal'.
written this 21st day of November 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
- 0 -
In poverty and lacking in education, a boy, of no consequence; is stirred in his heart and soul to discover religious truth. He pays attention to the conversations between his own family members, even sought out opportunities to hear from local and itinerant ministers, hoping from their messages; answers to his questions would come. However, finding nothing but confusion in these so called 'messages', he returned once more to his Bible. Reading in the Epistle of James he found courage to go directly to the source of truth. He would find out for himself - directly.
Apparently from family training this young lad had faith and adequate knowledge to feel that an answer, that had not been forthcome from all his experiences, might be received if he braved the lonely task of simply asking the believed in 'power' personally.
So simple a solution, but never knowingly explored by anyone who truly believe in the possiblity of receiving an answer. Not a vocal youth, and timid, he sought out a private place. A place of serenity and solitude. Looking around to assure the privacy he sought, he knelt and offered his simple question: "Which is right?" So simple and yet so totally honest and sincere a suplication. No wonder Father heard. Unfortunately Satan, ever alert, heard as well. He, Satan, used all of his ways to frighten and to disallusion this lone young boy into fleeing and abondoing his quest. The boy, however, was seized and held down. It is then, frightened and fearing his life was in great danger, still assured by his faith that he could receive help in this dark moment; cried out for that help, and it was quickly given. Thick darkness gave way to light. A light that grew brighter and brighter until it surpassed any before seen by the boy. A witness in and of itself which gave the boy new hope. So, here, the first two great principles were realized: faith and hope. It is little wonder then that charity, the pure love of God, unconditional love brought peace and recognition of 'glory'.
Because the boy was of such a tender age and trained will in respect for elders it seems perfectly natural that he would remain to see and to hear what was forth coming from God and the Savior. We have no recording of the interview, only a thumbnail sketch, but from this momentous occasion the boy made a 'giant step' into the reality of truth and love which would be the foundation upon which many 'new things' would come forth until some 20 plus years, boy to man, Gospel Light would
be shed upon many so that the world could start its' final journey toward exaltation. Those who would see, might see. While those who heard, would hear. Truth cuts like a two edged sword - so not all would be healed who might, if they would but 'follow'.
Joseph Smith, Jr. a prophet, seer and revelator; spent his time wisely, learned his own lessons well, and grew in stature and spirit. He followed counsel as it was given. He knew how to keep sacred things. He would lead any of those who would follow; giving his life for those things he had both learned and taught. He earned 'Life Eternal'.
written this 21st day of November 2010
by: Eileen Rosenberg
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