As I sat in the childhood home of my Great Grandmother, Arvilla McMurray, with four more generations of the tree–my Grandpa Gold and Grandma Kathleen, my mom, me, my girls and my niece Claire–I couldn’t help but wonder if she and my Grandma Gold (daughter of Arvilla) were present with us, too.

Did they hear 94-year-old Great Aunt Mary, current resident of the family homestead and widow of Arvilla’s brother (Arch), tell the faith-promoting story of her granddaughters being held hostage at their school by bomb-weilding crazies in Cokeville, WY?  Even these many years later, Aunt Mary shed tears as she reflected on the happy ending to the nightmarish episode.

Mary recounted that the quaint white home featuring a darling wrap-around porch was a blessed upgrade to the log cabin where my great, great grandparents were raising their large family (13 children when all was said and done). They had saved money to start constructing their new home, and then two of their sons were asked to serve missions with the promise that, if the family supported them in this endeavor, the home they’d be able to build would be more grand than they could have hoped for. And it was.

It is befitting that an old tithing shed where members of the church would bring their in-kind donations still sits on the property, as does a little playhouse where my great grandmother mothered her dolls as a child.

Aunt Mary is heavily involved in family history work but noted that the work is slower than she’d like; in her words, “I only have a landline, so dial-up is slow and it ties up the phone line.”  (She’s more technically savvy than Dell tech support!)

“In my mind I’m young, but my body reminds me of my age.”  Nevertheless, this sweet near-centenarian beams with optimism.

I want to be like Aunt Mary when I grow up.