Scott's Center

Braving uncharacteristically cold temperatures, Scott and I ventured out on a Sunday night holiday date to the First Presidency Christmas devotional.  Although we looked forward to hearing the message and the music and being downtown among the lights and inside the warmth of the Conference Center on a snowy night, our main impetus was seeing Bruce and Marlene as they carried out their missionary duties.  It is a thrill each time we spot them "on duty" with their missionary nametags and broad smiles.  We are so proud of them.

The program was, indeed, wonderful and filled with good stories and even better music.  Elder Rasband told the story of a pioneer mother who had absolutely nothing to put in her childrens' stockings on Christmas Eve.  She was distraught thinking about the disappointment that awaited them, until she remembered that she had a squash from which she could make a little bit of syrup.  She stayed up half the night boiling down the syrup and making from it gingerbread, cooking it in a skillet over the stove because there was no oven.  When the children awoke Christmas morning, it was to stockings full of warm gingerbread.

At the end of the story, I looked over at Scott and saw a tiny tear in his eye.  I realized then, that Scott's center is sacrifice.  And more specifically, sacrifice for his children.  It is when he is serving them that he is most fulfilled.  He is not a martyr; quite the opposite.  He sacrifices for his children because it is what makes him the happiest.  It is what brings him closest to the Spirit.  I can say with confidence that he never does anything for the kids grudgingly.  He wants to make them happy.  It's what he lives for.

Scott has a shelf full of video games he never plays and a Kindle full of books he hasn't read.  He has golf clubs that never see the light of day and a long list of concerts he would like to go to.  But he rarely gets around to these secondary interests because somehow, spending time with and for his children is always more important to him, more fulfilling.

I remember one time, Scott was dashing to his car, hoping to escape the Saturday mayhem and spend a few hours shopping by himself.  One of the kids looked up at him with big, round eyes and said, "Can I go?"  There was a brief moment of hesitation during which Scott's dream of solitude died and was replaced by the satisfaction of sacrificing his time for one of his kids.  Moments later, he was driving up the street, several delighted kids waving from the back seat.

Being that Scott is so close in character to Santa Claus, with his generous nature and love for children, Christmas is definitely his bag.  He will go to any lengths to make sure there is magic.  It is easy to understand where Scott gets his center from.  Do you know Bruce and Marlene?  Then you know that he learned how to give his life to his kids from his parents.  They never stop.  They give everything they have, and then some, to provide the magic, especially at Christmastime.  When I married Scott, on a snowy-white December day, I was only vaguely aware of the brilliant legacy of sacrifice Scott brought with him.  Of course, I had been the recipient of it and seen Bruce and Marlene serve and sacrifice, and I loved them for it.  But I don't think one can truly understand the depth of those sacrifices until their efforts are made manifest in one's own children.

Now, lest you get the idea that Scott is perfect (which he is, almost), let me show you the driveway.  Scott says I always have to get in one last zinger.  Here it is:  I asked him to shovel the driveway, and he said it wasn't necessary.  He did it, but instructed me to leave the snow on his side because he liked it there.  Ha ha.  Talk about getting in the last zinger!  Amid all his sacrifice, rest assured that Scott will never lose himself.  He'll always retain a bit of his cranky, defiant side, which is good.  I'd never want to lose that!

The real zinger is that Scott's center, sacrifice, is the reason our kids are even here in the first place.  In fact, the best Christmas present I ever got was the box that contained Emily's beautiful drawing of the name "Xanthe" and Scott's blessing on proceeding with the adoption that I so desperately wanted.  To all of our kids, I want you to know that Dad's sacrifices for you make him happier than anything else, and that will always be true, because it's who he is.  He's your dad.