By Nettie H. Francis
I’m the second oldest of eleven children. My growing up years were spent taking care of my younger siblings. Changing diapers, feeding babies and entertaining toddlers were all natural activities for me, and I could do many of them almost as well as a mother! It was a pleasant childhood.
Serving in a big family was entertaining, enjoyable and fulfilling.

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By Nettie H. Francis
I love the story of Adam and Eve and all that it symbolizes. But lately (maybe because it’s summertime and all of my children are home all day) I especially appreciate Adam.

My life right now is one of work. From dawn ‘til dusk I spend my hours cooking, cleaning, caring and cooking, cleaning and caring some more. There is never a dull moment, nor a break in my duties. I don’t mind them. In fact, since I was little, I wanted to be a mother and do exactly what I am doing right now. However, what I have come to understand, more than ever, is that I could not do what I do without a good husband.

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By Nettie H. Francis
I served a full-time mission in Japan. The volcanic mountains, speckled with terraced rice paddies and sloping steeply down to the blue ocean, were a new sight to a girl from Utah. I quickly fell in love with the beauty of the islands and the many people there. In the less-populated areas, mountain trails—carefully marked and laid with cement pathways and wooden steps—insured that thousands of visitors could reach the peaks to enjoy precious bits of untouched nature. I soon became accustomed to crowded streets and cities, and tiny houses crammed into every feasible living space.

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By Nettie H. Francis
I’ll never forget that family night. My Dad taught the lesson. He sat down at the piano, raised his hands in the air, and then brought them down hard on the keys, banging out an awful sound. We all covered our ears and frowned. The noise was terrible.

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By Nettie H. Francis
Yes, it’s true. I have chickens in my kitchen. I’ll admit
that our dining room is spacious, but when we have eight people at the table, two babies perched in their high chairs, and ten chickens pecking around in their little home, things get a bit crazy.

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By Nettie H. Francis
There is no such thing as “my space” for mothers. I’m not referring to the virtual opportunity to share personal information with the cyber world. I’m talking about the physical reality that no one but women fully understand: Mothers have no personal space. They are NEVER ALONE.

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By Nettie H. Francis
When I was young, my family held a special “Garden Family Council” early each spring. Sitting around a big table and with Daddy acting as scribe, all thirteen of us would shout out everything we wanted to plant in our family garden that year. Tomatoes, beans, corn, carrots, lettuce and radishes were regulars. Some years we were more daring, adding cantaloupe, big blue morning glories, and Jack-Be-Little pumpkins to our garden wish list.

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By Nettie H. Francis
On February 8, 2010, the Boy Scouts of America will celebrate its 100th birthday. Founded in England by Lord Robert Baden Powell, a military hero, in 1907, the Scouting movement was brought to the United States by American journalist William Boyce, who became acquainted with the organization when a young Boy Scout helped him through the thick London fog. Boyce was so impressed with the helpful boy who wouldn’t accept a tip, that he made an appointment to see Lord Baden Powell and learn more of the Scouting movement. He eventually founded the Boy Scouts of America based on the ideals and activities designed by Baden Powell.

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By Nettie H. Francis
The funds are low, and the debts are high, and you want to smile but you have to sigh.” (Anonymous) The world is in a crunch, a financial crisis that has now become an emotional and physical challenge for many families.

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By Nettie H. Francis
We recently downsized everything…(except children). One less car, one less payment, less television, one less phone contract, one less hobby, less shopping, one less school, one less weekly commitment, less media. In short, we simplified every aspect of our lives that we could. Not because of the struggling economy (although that is a great motivator), but because my husband just read “Little House on the Prairie,” by Laura Ingalls Wilder. He was inspired by the fact that the Ingalls family had fewer things and more time, less money and more land, fewer distractions and more quiet moments. In other words, theirs was a House of a Little Less.

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By Nettie H. Francis
I am now the mother of twins. Hooray! Hooray! Friends warned me that there would be twice as many diapers, twice as many feedings, and twice as much crying. “Never mind,” I said. “By now I’m twice as good at being a mother.” Besides, one mother told me that the first six children are the hardest, and then it “just gets easier.” Now that I have eight children, I’m expecting my second wind any day. Unfortunately, all I’ve experienced so far is total chaos.

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By Nettie H. Francis
It’s temple morning!” I can still remember the excitement in my sister’s voice each Saturday as she woke me up. At twelve and ten years of age, and the oldest children in the family, we had the responsibility of being in charge while our parents attended the temple each Saturday morning. Rising well before any of us woke; they would participate in temple ordinances, and then return home just after breakfast.
Part of the thrill for us children was the prospect of eating Cheerios while they were gone. Cold cereal—a rare treat in our family—was enough to get all 8 of us out of bed, dressed, and ready for the day in half the time it took on a school morning.
Then we would sit at the table, say a blessing, and thoroughly enjoy our cereal and bananas. By the time the last bowl was finished, our parents were usually walking through the front door.

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By Nettie H. Francis
My child should be in A.P. Primary,” the mother said, looking at me seriously. As the primary president, I had just informed her that her daughter’s January birthday would hold her back from the Sunbeam class for another year. “But she just barely misses the deadline by 14 days, and she already sings all of the primary songs,” the mother insisted. “It would be unfair to make her attend nursery for another year.”

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By Nettie H.
Francis
School days, school days, good old golden rule days…” As summer turns to fall, the smell of new pencils and the anticipation of colorful classrooms and invigorating teachers turn our thoughts to school. Moving to Las Vegas seven years ago, the education of my children was foremost on my mind. I often read the local newspaper to familiarize myself with the city. Unfortunately, one of

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By Nettie H. Francis
Several summers ago, my husband was asked to be the Director at the local Boy Scout Camp. I was thrilled! Our whole family could live in the cool mountains for six weeks. I was especially excited at the opportunities my children would have, out of the heat of the city, roaming freely in the great outdoors.

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