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In May of last year our household had stress; unemployment had left our house in a mess. So we packed up our van, our fortune to seek, and departed VA for a long westward trek. Our ultimate goal was Utah homebound, but hoping some work on the way could be found. It was hard to decide just how to pack, since we probably never would retrace our track.. We put in my car, clothes, bed rolls, and such, and Dad put his bachelor supplies in his truck. Possessions were boxed and stored with our friends; we left—not sure we’d see things again. Exhausted, we started but our hopes were high. At last we have something new to try. Camping cross country was really quite fun, although making contacts kept Dad on the run. The kids swam at campgrounds about every night, and seeing the country was our pure delight. But alas, as the miles began to pile up, Dad still drove with us in his pick-up ;truck. We reached destination, ‘twas good to be home, but employment escaped us. Dad still had to roam. The question was “Where?” Which way should he go, perhaps California, where things weren’t so slow. We stayed with my folks who went out of their way, providing us everything to make a nice stay. Harvey soon prepared to go on alone, and send back for us when he found a home, But for some unknown reason, he couldn’t get out the door, and that’s when he finally came up with a score. A place up in Idaho, believe it or not, offered him two jobs the same day, the same spot. After 18 months of unemployment blues, he now had two offers – the job he must choose. Just barely in the nick of time, too. The kids were just one week from starting school. I flew into action to find somewhere to live, big enough for the family, yet for what we could give. Well, I found it – three acres, a house made of logs. There was room for a garden, a cow, and some hogs. A big shed was waiting for projects galore, and ten minutes to anything – school, church, or store. The house is unusual, it’s own sort of charm, with a fireplace helping keep it cozy and warm. There’s only two bedrooms ready to use, so we started collecting boards, nails, and screws. In the meantime the moving van picked up our stuff; black fortune pursued, as if we’d not had enough. Somewhere in Tennessee the moving van crashed, and much of our household was reduced to trash. Three pages of items were broken or lost. We’re fighting out now who’ll absorb the cost. So now it is Christmas, a season so gay, but we still have our lives very much in dismay. We’ve boxes to unpack, possessions to mend, rooms to be finished, presents to send. Soil to prepare for planting next spring – a mystery each day for what lost item the movers will bring. For although we finally can make it a joke, the entire ordeal has left us quite broke. Yet great are our blessings; we’ve riches galore: fine family, new home, nearly new car. Kids setting in school and loving the ward. Good friends made already, we couldn’t want more. As for confusion and disorder, I fear— it seems to catch me at Christmas every year. For “Each” year I’ve been “Married”, there’s been a baby or move And it takes me a while to get in the groove. But Christmas time still is my favorite season, and I’m sure if I had to give you a reason, It would be that this is the time of the year I pause just to think of all who are dear. One of the things that I try to do, is jot my greeting of best wishes for you. Please let me know how things for you go, at: Rt. 6 Box 123, Idaho Falls, Idaho 83401 One last thought before we are through. “May all your hopes for 1977 come true.” Sincerely, Mary Lu