I know I'm a cry baby. I accept that. But why is it that every year when I walk into the stadium to watch the marching band and hear their initial yell and see them looking so sharp in their formed lines and their uniforms do I start to sob? It is so embarrassing. I hope I can control it somewhat this year though because I will be helping take the percussion equipment in before the show. Maybe that distraction will help...
Is there any hope for me?

In perusing the newspaper today I found two items that may interest readers. The first was the running back stats for the high school teams in the state. There in the Deseret News
sports section/running backs was Spencer from Riverton. He has the highest yards per carry at 11. He doesn't have the highest yardage but when you look at the stats he is probably the most efficient runner. He is fun to watch.
The other item was a great obituary about a man who was the ultimate in law enforcement I knew as a child. Check out the link if you want a chuckle and an idea of what the Cedar City good ol' boys are/were like. Thespectrum.com
Look at the obituary for Kent Hoyt.

This has been an eventful week. I was asked to work three consecutive mornings drawing blood for the BYU faculty/staff wellness center. They draw blood every 6 months to check cholesterol and other things. While it isn't rocket science I found a tremendous anxiety in many people relative to needles. This in turn creates a moderate amount of anxiety in me as the blood drawer. If I miss the vein I feel terrible, probably worse than they do. The second day, first victim comes in and announces that he always faints when he has his blood drawn. He wants to start out lying down. So he lies down on the floor and I kneel down to draw his blood. Everything goes just fine. He lives through it and is able to get up and drink his orange juice. He seemed amazed that he was OK. How much does it really hurt to get your blood drawn? Not that much. But the anxiety level of most people is very high. I did miss a few. But then I had a few that said it was the best blood draw they had ever experienced. You never know. I was able to meet lots of nice people and many that I knew which was fun. I even met some "famous" people which was a bonus.
The other part of the week that was fun was that Em was taken off her work schedule. This couldn't have happened at a better time. She was able to sleep in and clean her room on Thursday. Friday she went to class but Friday evening we went up to our Indian Canyon pleasure palace and camped out. When you first get out of the car up there you notice the piney sweetness of the place. It was very dark when we arrived at 9 p.m. There were millions of stars and some distant lightning. We quickly put out our sleeping bags in the trailer, Matt in his tent, and settled in for a long night. The next day was delightful. We ate a hearty breakfast then started a fire. Not that it was cold, it was very comfortable. We just wanted a place to gather and talk. After a while we commenced gathering firewood, Bus ran the chain saw, Matt on the ax. After 15 minutes we had more than we could carry in the truck. There are so many dead logs up there. If any readers want some free fire wood give us a call. We like excuses to go up there.

I know this is a weak way to blog but I appreciate this message so much that I wanted to share it. Plus I don't have anything earthshaking to say otherwise.
M E R I D I A N M A G A Z I N E
Getting From Childishness to Godliness
By H. Wallace Goddard

It is an unusual baby who arrives on the mortal scene concerned foremost about the well-being of others. Imagine a newborn saying (or acting as if to say): “Wow. I can see that all of you look very worn out. Mom, you look spent! What a struggle for you! Dad, you need a rest. Doctor, thank you for making my arrival so warm and safe. Why don’t I just relax a few hours while all of you get caught up. Let me know when you would like to visit. Maybe we can chat and have a snack in a few hours.”
As much as we are delighted with the arrival of newborns, they come with a rather different attitude. “Man! That was miserable! Do you know what I’ve just been through? And I’m not that crazy about the light and drafts here. Listen. Why don’t I scream and holler until you can figure out how to make me happy. Then maybe I’ll rest for a while. But I’ll let you know when I need something. And when I scream, I expect service.”
A Clod of Complaints
George Bernard Shaw’s words fit the newborn quite well: “A feverish, selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy.” The baby may be demanding and self-centered — but we make allowances for being a brand new human.
Unfortunately our attitude doesn’t change quickly or easily as we age. Many of us in adulthood are still struggling with the same attitude. “If I’m unhappy, I intend that everyone else be miserable as well. So, if you don’t want to be tortured, get busy taking care of my needs.”
Something Better
A few people break the pattern. Something is different for them. They are different from the rest of us. You know them. There is the ward member who seems to take genuine interest in people who struggle. There is the neighbor who cares for an ailing parent or a disabled child without complaint. There are those who set aside their own burdens and disappointments so that they can serve patiently and endlessly. I have been blessed by the ministering and example of many such people.
Van Wyck Brooks describes people who have moved from being narrow and contracted to being expansive: “How delightful is the company of generous people, who overlook trifles and keep their minds instinctively fixed on whatever is good and positive in the world about them. People of small caliber are always carping. They are bent on showing their own superiority, their knowledge or prowess or good breeding. But magnanimous people have no vanity, they have no jealousy, and they feed on the true and the solid wherever they find it. And, what is more, they find it everywhere.” (A Chillmark Miscellany)
I would like to be one of those magnanimous people. How do we get from the clod of complaints to noble goodness?
Ladeling from Life
Life provides each of us an experiential stew filled not only with chunks of vegetables but abundant weeds and rocks. The hodgepodge includes the intriguing, the indigestible, the enriching, and the toxic. We all eat stew from life’s general pot. Yet some are stunted while others flourish. Why is it that some extract nourishment for their goodness while others get only poison for their minds and souls?
People who have been served a bitter bowl of stew and still flourished have become iconic. Elijah turned national disgrace into personal discovery and continuing service. Corrie ten boom transformed Holocaust hate into embracing forgiveness. Frankl found meaning in the concentration camp. C. S. Lewis transformed a lonesome childhood into an embracing faith. Jesus metabolized the sins and pains of creation into the triumph of love.
There are those who have eaten from the same pot and yet are spiritually malnourished. Sigmund Freud showed the nature of his own soul when he wrote that, “I have found little that is good about human beings on the whole. In my experience most of them are trash.” A cynic would argue that Freud’s bitter assessment of humans is the result of his extensive experience with them. It seems even more likely that it is the result of his corrosive cynicism and atheism.
Throughout history there have been those who would destroy others to advance their own cause. Cain. Herod. Hitler. McVeigh. bin Laden. It is chilling to discover that we all have a little Timothy McVeigh in us. We may not be willing to destroy a whole community, but we stingily disburse our good will. At times we may even wish harm on this person or that nation.
The Answer
So how do we move away from our churlish childishness and become more like those expansive people we admire? What is the key to this mighty change?
I reflected on the question as I sat in church. I thought of the complex answers about biological dispositions and environmental shaping. I thought about all the things research recommends for moral development. How can all these ideas be summarized?
The answer came quite unexpectedly. The organ began to plan and words ascended from the seekers. “I stand all amazed at the love Jesus offers me, confused at the grace that so fully He proffers me. I tremble to know that for me He was crucified. That for me, a sinner, He suffered, He bled, and died.”
I felt flooded with the simple truth that Jesus is the Way for any who want to move from tired self-absorption to glorious contributing. Even for those who have never heard His name, His persistent invitation to gentleness and goodness is resident in their souls. The Light of Christ.
“Oh! It is wonderful! Wonderful to me.”

I made the mistake of going to the Quilted Bear last night. I haven't been in the store in Provo before. Two hours later with multiple bags in tow I staggered out. Its a good thing I don't go too often. But the bathroom looks cuter now and I love my new picture by the front door. I am even wearing a new t-shirt today and hope it makes up for the fact that I didn't want to put on make-up.
Today has been fantastic. Walking for an hour with Karen, visiting teachers, 4 hours at the red church reading old church records in German and now waiting for the apple crisp to cook so I can make another batch of banana bread, then sweet and sour pork for dinner. The best part is that there is no where to go tonight, just sit home and eat. You are all invited. No wait, stay home. I'm going to vej. Come next time.
P.S. Two mission calls today: Brian Spencer to Johannesburg and Nathan Spencer to Sao Paulo Brazil. So good. They leave the day(s) after Christmas for their respective MTCs in- country.

Have you ever had a day where everything goes a little haywire? I had a day like that yesterday. I had a list of things to accomplish and I was bravely attempting to conquer it. But then the bottles with carrots that I had just put in the pressure cooker started breaking. I lost 6 or 7 pints in the four batches I cooked. Then the pressure cooker lid wouldn't come off each time. As I was fixing dinner (while at the same time trying to finish the carrots and make triple berry jam) I put the hot zucchini soup into the blender and it splashed all over the cupboard, into the toaster, all over the light under the cupboard, everywhere. I guess I had put too much in the blender. I put a package of sauce into the microwave to warm it up. It burst the bag with a loud pop but only spilled a little bit. The kitchen was a huge mess.
There were so many pots and pans to clean. But there was only one thing on my mind. I was going to see our new baby boy, Lincoln. Bus and I went over to their house and were able to hold him for a while. He is an active, alert and strong little guy. He started to fuss a little bit so we quickly handed him over to his mom. He settled right down. He is in good hands.

Clown collar award to Robyn. She delivered a beautiful baby boy yesterday morning. His name is Lincoln James and he weighed 6 pounds 6 ounces and was 19 inches tall. He has a little bit of light brown hair. We went to the hospital in American Fork soon after he was born and were able to watch his first bath. He has a good lusty cry and great reflexes. I forgot to take my camera so Jethro and Robyn will have to post those. But trust me, he is a beautiful boy. Congratulations to the new parents! Well done.

This is a new kind of blog written especially for my children so they can become acquainted with their pioneer ancestors. Others are welcome to read this but just so you know. This was written for an assignment I had to give a 7 minute report on a pioneer ancestor in Relief Society. I have pages of information copied off about her that I will gladly send to the first person who asks for it.

Mary Isabella Hales Horne

Mary Isabella Hales was born in England in 1818. The Hales and their family of five sons and two daughters emigrated to Toronto Canada where Isabella met Joseph Horne at a Methodist camp meeting in 1834. They were married two years later. Mary Isabella was 17 and Joseph was 24. Within two months after their marriage Parley P. Pratt came to preach the gospel in their neighborhood. They listened with eagerness to Elder Pratt’s sermon. The spirit of the Lord bore witness to them that what he taught was true. They were baptized by Elder Orson Hyde in July, 1836.

She writes about meeting the Prophet Joseph Smith for the first time. “When I shook hands with him I was thrilled through and through and I knew that he was a Prophet of God, and that testimony has never left me, but is still strong within me.” John Taylor and his wife Leonora were close friends and they and the Hornes were able to travel with the prophet to visit the branches of the church in Canada.

Isabella met the Prophet again in Quincy; this time he was only a few steps ahead of the mobsters. She writes, “Brother Joseph Smith and several of the brethren and sisters came to Quincy. They came to my house, partook of refreshments and scattered. Brother Joseph was in the best of spirits. He said laughingly, “Sister Horne, if I had a wife as small as you, when trouble came I would put her in my pocket and run.”

On another occasion the Prophet Joseph, in company with a number of the brethren, came to Quincy to talk to the Governor about the affairs of the Saints. On his return to his home in Nauvoo he was arrested and brought back to Quincy. Isabella recorded that about noon the next day the Prophet came to her house and said, ‘Sister Horne, the Spirit always draws me to your home.’ He needed clean clothes to continue his journey and Mary Isabella was happy to help him with this.

The Hornes lived in Nauvoo for four years and then prepared to go west with the saints. They left Winter Quarters in June 1847 Isabella tells of an incident that occurred on their journey west. “In the month of July, we saw a large band of Indians located on the other side of the Platte river about half mile ahead. In the morning Apostle John Taylor invited my husband to drive on before the company to meet the Indians who were swimming over the river to trade. One Indian brought a pony to my wagon and wanted to trade for my baby girl fourteen months old. I said, ‘No trade.’ He brought a second and a third pony and indicated that he was very determined to have my baby. Just at that time the rest of the company came up and I had no more trouble with him.

While the brethren were trading with the Indian men, the squaws and children were going among our wagons stealing cooking utensils or anything else they could get hold of, so that when we camped for the night we found that many useful articles were missing.

Once they reached the Salt Lake Valley one of the greatest sources of trouble and inconvenience were the mice. The ground was full of them. They ran over them in their beds, dropped from the ceiling, ate into their boxes and destroyed much valuable clothing. Various kinds of mousetraps were devised but relief was obtained only after securing a kitten for 50 cents from the only family of cats in the camp.

Early in the spring a man came into the valley from California with some pack animals and brought some potatoes. Her husband paid him fifty cents for four potatoes about as large as a hen’s egg, from which he raised over a bushel of fine potatoes. But they couldn’t eat them. They saved them for seed Their sugar was all gone but a man from California came with some. She waited for an hour and a half and then she could only buy one pound of brown sugar for which she paid one dollar.

In 1858, Johnston’s army threatened invasion and devastation to Salt Lake City. Her husband Joseph was away on a mission in Southern Utah so Isabella drove one of their teams to Parowan with her six month old baby on her lap and had three other children under 5 years of age with her. Her older children were also with her. Grandpa Spencer's father's mother was 9 years old at this time. Her name is Leonora Taylor Horne.

Isabella was the first president of the Salt Lake Stake Relief Society when it covered all of Salt Lake County. There were 24 wards in all. This position Isabella continued to occupy for 31 years until she was 85 years old and the stake was divided into 6 stakes. Simultaneously she served as the treasurer of the General Relief Society under President Eliza R. Snow and then Zina Young. She was also one of the main women's suffrage leaders in Salt Lake City.

In the fall of 1869, Isabella was issued another challenge. President Young, touring southern Utah with other Church leaders, was troubled by the fact that wherever they went, great preparations were made for their entertainment. The sisters even stayed at home instead of going to meeting. When he arrived in Gunnison, where Isabella was visiting her son, he spoke with her about the matter. “ Sister Horne, he said, “I am going to give you a mission to begin when you return to your home—the mission of teaching retrenchment among the wives and daughters of Israel. It is not right that they should spend so much time in the preparation of their food and adornment of their bodies, and neglect their spiritual education.

Isabella took the president’s concern seriously. the Senior Retrenchment Association was organized. To help them understand the theory of the organization she served bread and butter, preserves, stewed dried apples, one kind of cake and cold water.

When Isabella was 74 years of age, she made a trip to England to do genealogy research. Her nephew happened to write about this encounter she had with some leading lady suffragists there.

One of the ladies was very curious to know how polygamous families get along and pointedly asked Sister Horne if her husband was a man of many wives. “My husband has other wives,” was her reply. With eyes wide open, expressive of the greatest astonishment, the lady asked, “How did you feel?” “Just as you would feel,” replied my aunt. “I am a woman like yourself, and, but for my religious convictions, would no more have consented for my husband to take another wife than you would; but I know that the principle of plural or celestial marriage is true and from God. God has spoken from the heavens and raised up the boy prophet, Joseph Smith, to establish his kingdom on earth in these last days, and I have a testimony of the truth of these things. I have had the honor of entertaining the prophet in my own home and know that he was a man of God.”

“Well, but you don’t expect to convert US to these things?”

“Oh no madam. If we wished to convert you to our religion we would begin with the first principles, not with the highest and most exalted ones.”

Emmeline B. Wells, a long-time friend and associate said of this remarkable woman, “She was a born leader, a sort of General among women and indeed in this respect might surpass most men. Sister Horne can appropriately be called a stalwart, a champion for the rights of her own sex, and indeed for all mankind. She was undoubtedly a woman of destiny. This woman of destiny who had borne fifteen children, including three sets of twins was a much-loved mother and grandmother. I am grateful for her example.

The rich industrialist from the North was horrified to find the southern fisherman lying lazily beside his boat, smoking a pipe.
"Why aren't you out fishing?" said the industrialist.
"Because I have caught enough fish for the day," said the fisherman.
"Why don't you catch some more?"
"What would I do with them?"
"You could earn more money," was the industrialist's reply. "With that you could have a motor fixed to your boat and go into deeper waters and catch more fish. Then you would make enough to buy nylon nets. These would bring you more fish and more money. Soon you would have enough money to own two boats. . . maybe even a fleet of boats. Then you would be a rich man like me."
"What would I do then?" asked the fisherman.
"Then you could really enjoy life."
"What do you think I am doing right now?"

So yesterday at the 4th of July parade in Provo (I only go because Matt marches in the band--they looked very fine yesterday) we are carefully making our way down the east side trying to find a small patch of earth not already marked off by someone else's blanket or shade tent so that we can be on the shady side of the street and also be on the side where Matt anchors the tuba line. Emily texts us that she is taking a half hour break from East Lake Care Center to come and view the band with us. We decide that 800 North is a good meeting place. Surely there won't be that many people on the street itself since it can't be roped off like the rest of the places along the parade route that have been "saved" since Monday or earlier. But no, there are10 rows of people there. How will we ever find Emily in this chaos? All of the sudden I see her on the side of the parade route, her phone tucked between her shoulder and her ear. She is wearing shades and a smile. She unexpectedly drops to the ground. I rise on tiptoes to see her doing her balancing act on one hand that she perfected as a Miss Camp Shalom contestant. She gets up to applause. She wades through the throng to where we are standing. The people along the front wanted her to "do something" as she passed by. She accommodated them without missing a beat.

This past week was so delightful. I loved having Jan and Clark here to play with. There were several highlights including the trip to Ikea with many of the female members of the family and eating so many meatballs. Then we watched Em's team win their softball game. Ben found a great deal on the softballs they were clearing out. Jethro has now offered to draw pictures on them and adopt them into the family...There was the cake making event, the sewing events, girl's night out and scrapbooking event combined with the cake eating event. We crammed a lot of fun into a week. We are getting better at Puerto Rico, the game. We will have to practice some more though because Jan buried us all that last go round.
Thanks for adding a colorful thread to the fabric of my life the past week. You are all so interesting and fun to be around.

I have loved reading your blogs this past week. You are all insightful and fun people. I love getting a glimpse into your lives and what you are involved in or thinking about. Thanks so much for sharing these things with the world.
This afternoon at work we were less busy and I happened upon this article that kept me fascinated in spite of its length. The link is http://pewforum.org/events/?EventID=148
Richard Bushman was interviewed and questioned by reporters from many of the nation's biggest media outlets about Mormonism. He is a master communicator. Mitt Romney's campaign has been a major impetus for people in the nation to find out about the church. This was good PR for our side. I encourage you to peruse this when you have a minute. I think he deserves our clown collar award this week.

We have a new clown collar award to announce. Drum roll please...
Matt has finally finished his Eagle Scout Award! He just has some paperwork to finish up but everything else is done. Yeah Matt.

Another clown collar award. This time it is the Gaines family.
Last night was a highlight. There we were sitting in the Timpview commons on our smoky camp chairs with the sunlight beaming through the windows. Dr. Fullmer announces that the next performer would be none other than Billy Joel. Out comes Ben with his harmonica holder and tells the audience they should sing along with him as he plays but that he will pretend they aren't there.
He proceeds to play the exact piano notes that Billy Joel plays on his song and then the harmonica. It really sounds authentic. The audience cheers and claps. He sings his heart out the rest of the song then comes the finale. For the last chorus he points with both hands over the piano giving the audience the chance to shine. They pull through for him a capella and then everyone erupts in cheering and clapping as the song becomes the audience's song as well. It was so much fun. He was a fantastic Piano Man. Grandma was there. She was so glad she was.
The other part of the award goes to Toni. She is taking classes this term and is the lone woman in a poli-sci class with 6 men. They recently had a test. Two people got A's. Toni was one of them. You go Toni!

So I thought I would put in a quote from one of the big guys on connectivity...


"One of the main problems in society today is that we spend less and
less time together. Some, even when they are together, spend an
extraordinary amount of time in front of the television, which robs them of
personal time for reinforcing feelings of self-worth. Family home
evenings give individuals and families important time to talk and listen as
parents and children, brothers and sisters, spouses, and friends. Time
together is precious--time needed to encourage and to show how to
do things. Less time together can result in loneliness, which may produce
feelings of being unsupported, untreasured, and
inadequate."

Topics: Family

(James E. Faust, "Enriching Our Lives through Family Home Evening," Liahona, June 2003, 5)

Something special happened yesterday thatI want to share . Jethro was in a bind with a work project that ended up being more than he anticipated. His partner was unable to help finish so Jethro called on his siblings to help him out Em and Matt went to Orem to help him finish the weeding and rototilling and smoothing of a lady's yard, preparing it for sod. It was hard, dirty work. They didn't whine about missing dinner, complain about how hard the work was or why was he making them work after they had already put in a full day at work and school. Their concern was how can we help out Jethro in his bad situation.
After dinner Jethro pulled out a wad of money to generously pay them. He was fully aware and grateful for their sacrifice and hard work. They gave him back a significant amount claiming that they didn't need as much as he offered. After he left they both remarked that it wasn't about the money. It was about wanting to help a brother. Clown collars all around.

Being a blogger brings a new kind of pressure to my life. I don't want to blog my personal life too much because, well, it's personal. I want to be a part of the family communication link but feel that I don't have terribly interesting or funny things to say. The longer I go without blogging the more pressure there is to come up with something interesting. If too much time passes the heaviness almost incapacitates. That is all I have to say about that.
On a lighter note, I really enjoyed Mother's Day this year. It was so nice to see everyone and eat more than was necessary. The weather was perfect. The trip to the cemetery helped me feel Dad's comforting spirit around us. I really was spoiled with great gifts. Thanks so much to my children and husband. You make being a mother very rewarding. Thanks for all the good you do.

Brownies with a Difference

Many parents are hard pressed to explain to their youth why some music, movies, books, and magazines are not acceptable material for them to bring into the home or to listen to or see.

One parent came up with an original idea that is hard to refute. The father listened to all the reasons his children gave for wanting to see a particular PG-13 movie. It had their favorite actors. Everyone else was seeing it. Even church members said it was great. It was only rated PG-13 because of the suggestion of sex--they never really showed it. The language was pretty good--the Lord's name was only used in vain three times in the whole movie.

The teens did admit there was a scene where a building and a bunch of people were blown up, but the violence was just the normal stuff. It wasn't too bad. And, even if there were a few minor things, the special effects were fabulous and the plot was action packed.

However, even with all the justifications the teens made for the ‘13' rating, the father still wouldn't give in. He didn't even give his children a satisfactory explanation for saying, "No." He just said, "No!"

A little later on that evening the father asked his teens if they would like some brownies he had baked. He explained that he'd taken the family's favorite recipe and added a little something new. The children asked what it was.

The father calmly replied that he had added dog poop. However, he quickly assured them, it was only a little bit. All other ingredients were gourmet quality and he had taken great care to bake the brownies at the precise temperature for the exact time. He was sure the brownies would be superb.

Even with their father's promise that the brownies were of almost perfect quality, the teens would not take any. The father acted surprised. After all, it was only one small part that was causing them to be so stubborn. He was certain they would hardly notice it. Still the teens held firm and would not try the brownies.

The father then told his children how the movie they wanted to see was just like the brownies. Our minds are leading us into believing that just a little bit of evil won't matter. But, the truth is even a little bit of poop makes the difference between a great treat and something disgusting and totally unacceptable.

The father went on to explain that even though the movie industry would have us believe that most of today's movies are acceptable fare for adults and youth, they are not.

Now, when this father's children want to see something that is of questionable material, the father merely asks them if they would like some of his special dog poop brownies. That closes the subject.

I have just received the new schedule for the summer at the Health Center. I will only be working Mondays. Wow! I love the new feeling of freedom that has come over me. The past two summers I have worked 3-6 every afternoon. Not bad but not as good as working all day one day and having the rest of the week off.
In celebration I am going to share with you my hot fudge sauce recipe.

1 can evaporated milk
1 cube margarine or butter
1 c. chocolate chips (semi-sweet is my fave)
Mix these together in a large sauce pan over medium heat and stir until everything is melted.
Then add 2 cups powdered sugar and 2 tbl karo syrup and stir often if not constantly for 8-10 minutes. The longer you cook it the thicker it gets. It also gets thicker as it cools. After cooking it to your desired thickness take off heat and add 1 tbl vanilla. Stores in the fridge for a month.

Did you know that we are among the 10% wealthiest people in the world? Most all Americans fall into this category. We also use 86% of the world's resources which makes us seem more than slightly piggish. I especially hated to hear that 28,000 children die each day (ten million a year) due to starvation or preventable disease. As I hear these statistics I feel some resentment for the guilt complex that comes with it. On the other hand, I feel compelled to help however I can. I realize that that statistic may be suspect. How can you really know that this is so? Who counts dead babies in the 3rd world? There are so many remote villages. Statisticians probably can defend this from some sampling they have done somewhere. . . But I think we all know that there is a problem with starvation and preventable disease.
John Hatch started the Village Banking model of microfinance in 1984 while on a flight to Bolivia. He said it was the double bourbon that gave him the insight for this new idea in dealing with the poverty situation in the world. FINCA is the result of his idea and with other NGO's (non-governmental organizations) who do a similar service have reached 100 million of the world's poorest families. There are only 160 million left needing assistance. One of the interesting things he told us during the workshop last week is that the poorest of the poor who FINCA would like to serve will not come to them for help. They are scared of starting a business and having that responsibility. I feel their pain. I have the same fear. But that is for another blog. The point I would like to make here is that we have made excellent headway in solving the world's poverty problem and there is a goal by some to end all poverty by the year 2025.
The plan hatched to reach this goal by some former BYU student interns with FINCA calls for us to cut back on our consumption 1% and give $1 per day to their organization called ASAP. ASAP is an acronym for Alliance of Students Against Poverty. This would amount to one less soda or other treat a day. If only 2 million people would do this for 10 years they could reach their goal of raising 7 billion dollars to stamp out poverty. ASAP, which is just starting up, will research all of the current NGOs out there who are doing microfinance and support the most efficient ones with the money they raise. I like the idea. What do you think?