Glenna As One Who Heard

By Eric Sanderson A year or so ago when Mom was declining rapidly in her 99th year of life I re-read her autobiography “Aspens and Meadowlarks”,  and was struck by how deeply her religion permeated her life, not just its culture and tradition which were a strong part of her identity, but her single-minded belief that she walked

Glenna’s Baked Brown Bread

By Eric Sanderson In the mid-1950’s our family moved from the Provo River bottoms, an idyllic, wild place, to suburban Orem just to the west. 8th West, Orem was a working class neighborhood of small squarish houses, and kids hanging out everywhere. Fathers mostly worked in trades, or at Geneva Steel which we could see,

Memories of Grandma

By Emily Sanderson OlsenDecember 20, 2020 I believe that Grandma came to visit us when my brother Alan was born in Athens, Georgia when I was four, but probably my earliest real memories of her were when we visited Grandma and Grandpa in Atascadero. I don’t remember how old I was, but I do remember

Some of my best memories are of your mother

By Steve OAugust 16, 2020 Some of my best memories are of your mother, my mother’s older sister, Glenna Cottam Sanderson.  My earliest memory of her was when I was probably about five or six when my family drove to visit her in the Provo River bottom where they had a small but well-kept house

Memories of Ivan and Glenna and the Sanderson Family

By Kent Ware23 August 2020 I always loved getting together with the Sanderson cousins at large family events (holidays, birthdays, camping reunions, etc.) My older brother Boyd had a cluster of cousins his age—Jon, Brent, Craig, and Blake. My younger brother Lynn also had his group of cousins—Mark, Neal, and Gary. Jan was the only

Remembering Mom: March 1, 1921 – August 6, 2020

By Eric SandersonAugust 23, 2020 Her enthusiasm as she suggested a “Sunday drive up the canyon” was like being asked to listen to a religious sermon – you weren’t all that interested, but she was so enthusiastic that you didn’t want to disappoint her. So the whole family of 8 piled into the car, me

Chiasmus to the Father

1. Oh God, thou great Creator, who knows all things, in thee only is perfect love for thine imperfect child. 2. I cry in the thirsty land, hungry for peace and light. Yet the world gives no treasure of peace; it gives but imitation jewels of glass; as in a dream of feasting we awake,

Child

There’s an instant telephone line Between me and any small child whose eyes I meet, A deep and double smile that melts my bones, I see whatever it was that made the stars Of morning sing, and spectrum sparks from Kolob. I feel the easy merriment, the bounce Of weightlessness free from earth’s gravitational guilt,

To Mother Lying in State

The snow of age is on your brow As peaceful as the silent snow Now waits on Timpanogos Where you will lie. Whether your hair was white or brown, Your smile was as a child’s — Lips always parted. Innocent as sunrise, Joyful as spring. Oh, all who ever knew you know You’re gentlest of

Earth is Witness

A white columbine, a spotted fawnFill me with tenderness, but more —With love for Him who gave delight,Brooks that sing, rainbows that arch,The scent of pines, the tastes of fruits,Bright meadow blooms, and diamond nights. The blue-green sea, it pounds the rocksIn rhythms of moving majesty,Old as creation’s Second Day.So thy purpose, Lord, moves ever