Not Everyone's Daughter Marries Peter Pan

Not everyone's daughter marries Peter Pan. 

Kristen discovered Zach among a family night group with a neighboring apartment where she and her roommates built a snowman, 

                                           

found a refuge of homework buddies, good friends,

 

and two roommates found boyfriends.  (Sometimes it pays to go with the crowd.)  

These are a few of the roommates and more.

Kristen asked Zach out first. We heard about a second or third of their dates--to Hale Center theatre, where Zach's father without equivocation directed son to offer his coat when Kristen shivered.

Here are Zach and Kristen (yes, finally
both warm!)

The family holds season theatre tickets.  Having supported each of the children in acting and music through their growing up years, this family chose a way to get together regularly for years to come .

In Zach's first semester at BYU, he tried out  and was chosen to play Peter Pan.  Either the hair or the enthusiasm caught his director's attention, and he charmed his audience.  He still charms his audience.  

His first audience from our family--Kristen, caught his attention.  Following marriage in 2009, they continue to teach us about marriage as a team job.  "Keeping romance alive," they plan a list of dates for a year at a time.

  (Our job is to keep on their mailing list, so we can have dates, too.)

They said "yes" to helping in the ward nursery more than twice.  

The first stint opened their eyes to joy of children.

And they have been blessed to entertain a William, a Savanna, and a "coming up" Kevin.  When William arrived, the first thing I remember in a day of worry and NICU was watching a red haired father cradle a little boy in his arms 

and sing to him a French song learned during his Quebec, French-speaking mission, the tune from Dvorak's New World Symphony.  Reading the words still warms my heart:

Souviens-toi (Remember)

Do you know, little one, Heav'nly Parents dear

Called your name, held you close, in a world still near.

Though you're now in my arms, just beyond my sight

In your eyes glitter still images of light.

Speak to me, little one, Of that blessed place

While your heart still recalls Heav'nly Father's face.

Have you known, little one, Things I cannot guess,

Golden trees, streets of glass, Fields of nobleness?

And the sky when night falls--does its color change?

Does the sun always shine, Even when it rains?

Tell me child, while you can, How the birds sing there,

How the streams flow with peace In that world so fair.

 Do you know, little one, I was there with you

When you dreamed, when you danced, I was dreaming too.

When the day came to choose And we took our stand

Shouting praise, we embraced Heav'nly Father's plan.

On that day, little one, We both made a vow. 

Through our faith, through God's love, We're together now.

During a trip to Israel, my brother James learned that some present day Ephraimites have red hair.  Remembering this sweet, touching scene from a hospital room and the treasure of inheritance that our posterity can bring to us--the words of Hymn number two resound, "And Ephraim be crowned with his blessing in Zion."  

With little Savanna finding some red hair of her own to mimic Dad's, we are now working to decide which is the lamb and which is the lion, ready to lie down together "without ire" at 7 p.m. tonight.

In the home that Zach learned to offer his coat, he learned to push a wheelchair and attend to family members in compromised health situations.  He learned to watch over and care for sisters and brother, mother and Dad.  At age eight, he vowed to stand and share his convictions with neighbors and congregation members the first Sunday of every month.

 He kept his vow and charmed his neighbors. 

 He developed a good mind, deciding to study everything--landing on theatre and finances.  A future direction is inclining toward health care.  And Zach and Kristen--team deal all the way around--

have worked to become debt free,  preparing to face such a future.

Zach's hair is one of his trademarks.
 
But only one of them.  When we became acquainted  in Bear Lake at our family pioneer home, Kristen had invited a roommate or two with Zach to join Fourth of July festivities.  David Gee in his "uncle" role peppered each with questions.  We heard from Bayley, Kristen's roommate, what she found unique about Zach.  She told of a day walking home from class, noticing a person in front of her dancing his way home.  It was Zach.

Zach has become a vibrant part of the "Gee band." 

Not too long ago, Maria went out for a neighborhood walk in the dark and looked up to see someone biking past our cul de sac with an umbrella, singing at the top of his lungs:  "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!"  It was Zach.

That is what he is doing now--singing, dancing his way home.  Aren't we lucky to listen and watch?

What would we do without Zach?