Introducing Ardis Parshall
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2 Posts
Confessions of My Father’s Daughter Oct. 14th, 2006 at 9:13 pm

I smelled it on the street last evening, just a whiff left by somebody who must have just gotten into a car. He – it must have been a he – couldn’t have been going into a building, and it calls for more leisure than a cigarette addict can spare on a 10-minute break. So I imagine his wife must have been late driving by the corner where she picks him up from work, and he had pulled out his pipe, filled its bowl with tobacco, and patiently passed the time waiting for his ride.

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Remembrance of Things Fast Oct. 11th, 2006 at 9:41 am

When I was a child living in a small California town with few LDS girls, my mother had me accompany her to stake inservice meetings and to the Primary class she taught – not as her book carrier or crayon-passer-outer, but explicitly to teach me how to teach. She would explain to me during our preparation what she was going to do, and why, and we’d discuss afterwards what had worked and what hadn’t. Eventually she had me teach parts of her lessons. I was snagged as a Primary teacher myself when I was just 11, and have been teaching in church and in the workplace off and on ever since.

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