Grandma and the Chicken

I was so excited when my big brother Kent brought home two baby chicks from kindergarten.  They were so cute and soft and fluffy.  The only problem was that they grew up too fast.  It did not take long for them to become another creature entirely.  They were big, ugly, mean and had free rein of the farmyard.  Every time I would go outside, one or both of them would chase me and peck at me.  Soon I was afraid to go out.  This was pretty sad for me because it had been my habit to go visit my Grandma Wrigley at least once a day if not more.  She lived right next to us across a dirt lane, her home being only around 75 feet away.  With the chickens out there always threatening, I could only go visit if my mom went with me.  One day, I really wanted to go see grandma.  I went to the porch door and looked out.  I could not see the chickens, so I quietly opened the porch door.  No sign of them.  Only being three years old, I probably was not very stealthy.  But, since I could not see them, I decided to make a run for it.  I had only gone a few steps, when one of the chickens made an appearance and took off after me.  In terror, I ran as fast as I could, crying all the way.  When I got to grandma's porch, she came out of the house in a rage.  She grabbed that chicken and wrung its neck right in front of me.  She just stood there holding the chicken by the head and swinging it around in a circle. It was a sight that I will never forget. Afterwards, she said, "Diane can't even come to visit me with these chickens chasing her."  We ate the chicken for dinner.  Not too many days after, the other chicken went the same way as the first.  I was so glad to have those chickens gone. 

Kent and Me - Early Early Years

My brother Kent is two years older than me.  When we were little we played a lot together.  I looked up to him and believed everything he told me.  We liked to play in our wading pool out in the yard at the home we lived in in View.  We had a black, step ladder that we would put next to the pool.  It was our diving board.  We also had a sand box we liked to play in, though I do recall a few sand fights.  There was a big lilac bush in the back yard that was neat.  We could climb through the branches into the center where there was plenty of room for one or two kids to hang out in or to hide.  Also in the back yard, was a tree that at a certain time of the year became the home of hundreds of furry, brown caterpillars.  We loved capturing and playing with these fuzzy creatures.  In the spring and summer we liked to catch polliwogs or skippers.  We would keep them in a round watering trough that we had in the yard. Kent and I shared a room in this small home in View, which was also the home in which that my mother had grown up.  We had a bunk bed.  Kent slept on the top and I slept on the bottom.  Our room was also the laundry room.  Kent and I got along pretty well in those early years, except for at meal times.  He sat across from me and had some sort of problem with my eating habits.  Apparently, I was a bit messy as he would get mad at me and complain to mom and dad.  Because I knew that it bugged him, I would just try to be messier.  Often, one of our parents would get out a cereal box and put it in between us so he did not have to look at me.  We both loved our home in View next to Grandma and Grandpa Wrigley.  We had plenty of cousins around to play with and we loved going across the lane to grandma's house and spending time on the farm.  Also during these times, while dad was going to school, we lived in Pocatello, Idaho.  We lived there in a small trailer.  It had a bedroom for my parents, but for Kent and me, the small couches were converted into our beds each night.  There was a playground in the trailer park that we liked to play in. 

William Burr Christenson

My father's father, my grandpa, was William Burr Christenson.  Everyone called him Bill.  I have fond memories of him and can still picture him out in the garden or tinkering around the shop at his and grandma's home in Heyburn, Idaho.  My picture is of him being outside in the yard in his overalls. He had a very large garden.  Grandma would grow her flowers on the first few rows and then he would have his vegetables on the next dozen or so rows.  He was always happy and smiling.  I never heard him use bad language or say unkind words.  He loved his family and enjoyed being around them.  We would often go to visit him and grandma on Sunday evenings.  He would almost always share with us something that he had read about that day from the church news, a church magazine, or a message from his church meeting.  He never did it in a big, formal or preachy way - he would just bring it up in the conversation.  I never thought a lot about it then, but now I cherish the memories of those moments when he would share the gospel and his testimony with us in such an easy and natural way.   I had no doubt that he knew that the gospel of Jesus Christ was true.

Though I don't remember a lot of details, I do remember our family going on day or weekend trips with him.  I know that we went up to Lake Cleveland and other fishing places.  He liked to fish and enjoyed the out of doors.

He was very proud of his children and grandchildren.  I know he was proud of my dad and his success with his auto body business.  My dad grew up helping grandpa out in his car repair shop.  Grandpa was honored that dad had followed in his footsteps.  One time Grandpa came up missing.  He finally showed up at my dad's shop.  He had walked over from Heyburn to visit dad at his body shop in Burley.

When I was around high school age, Grandpa had a stroke.  Though he recovered from it in most ways, his speech never was the same again.  It was very hard to understand what he wanted to tell us.  Grandma would do her best to try to decipher his garbled words.  Mostly she would try to guess.  We learned that there was one word he could still say well - 'no'. Sometimes he would get so frustrated and discouraged, and other times he would just shake his head and laugh.  It was sad, but we were glad to have him with us for a few more years.

I miss him and love him and appreciate his great example and the way he raised my father and my aunts and uncles who are all great examples to me.

Henretta (Retta) Christensen

Henretta Lund Christensen, is my great grandmother.  She is the only great grandparent who was still alive when I was born.  When I was a young girl, we would go to visit Great Grandma Christensen.  She lived in a small, humble home in Heyburn, Idaho.  She lived alone, as her husband had died many years before.  But, my Great Uncle Lund lived next door, which was good, so he could help her out when necessary.  She always had lots of flowers in her yard.  She loved growing flowers.  In her history, it says that she always had a bouquet of flowers for the chapel on Sundays during the spring and summer.  She even had a greenhouse where she would start her flower and vegetable seeds in the early spring.  At one time, she and my Great Grandfather, Joseph Edward (Joe) Christensen, earned money selling nursery stock from their greenhouse.  She also had a lot of knick knacks in her house that I was told to not touch.  After I learned to play the piano, my parents would often encourage me to play a selection for her.  I remember one time that I did not want to play, but my dad said that I should because it could very possibly be the the last time I would get to play for her as she was very old.  She loved music. Even though times were hard, she made sure that all of her children learned to play the piano and other instruments. After a fall when she was alone in her home, she became afraid to live by herself, so she moved in with my Grandma and Grandpa Christenson, so that they could help to take care of her.  I was told that she had been promised in her Patriarchal Blessing that she would live until she was ready to leave this life.  I always thought that that was a great blessing.  She died in 1974 when I was in junior high school.  She was 92 years old. The funeral did not seem really sad, but was a celebration of a revered mother/grandmother.  Life for her had not been easy.  She lost her mother and father at a young age and it became her role at the age of 16 to care for her younger sisters and brother.  She and her husband had a nice home in Hyde Park, Utah, but decided to try their hand at homesteading in the Snake River area of southern Idaho, where the United States had just opened it up to homesteaders and allowed water rights from the nearby Snake River.  This did not work out for them as well as they hoped, and they had a difficult time of it and of caring for their family.  Her husband then died in his 50's leaving her to carry on alone for many years.  Luckily, she had most of her children and their families nearby to keep her occupied.  She often helped my grandmother make quilts.  She had an orchard behind her home where she also kept geese.  For holiday dinners, she always fixed a goose.
 
In reading through her histories, I have found out a few interesting stories about her.  Not long after her mother die, her father took her and her siblings to the dedication of the Salt Lake Temple.  They sat on the balcony and she always remembered the Hosanna Chorus with all of the white handkerchiefs.  She had many experiences in her life where she relied on the Lord to help her through difficult times and was thankful for his watchful care in her belhalf.  She and her husband made it a practice to pray and  put their trust in the Lord.  She had a great testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ and tried to instill that in her siblings and in her children.  How thankful I am for a righteous Great Grandmother who set a great example to her posterity.  I am thankful that I was able to know her.