As usual, it has been a long time since I posted--I do post things on Facebook, but this morning I decided to do a post about my name. As many of you know, my first name is Margaret, but I have never gone by my first name (unless I'm in a doctor's office or somewhere where they don't know any better). So I have been known as Louise basically all my life. And I didn't like my first name anyway. When I was growing up, Dennis the Menace was a big TV program and I did not like being associated with his nemesis, Margaret. I always thought of someone with red hair, that was fairly obnoxious. I didn't want to have anything to do with that name.
I was actually named after my mother, whose name was Margaret Ruth, but she, too, hardly ever went by her first name . Her nickname for all her life was "Boots," and I'm not sure exactly how she got that name. However, today I had an "a ha" moment as I was reading scriptures. I was in the book of Mormon in the book of Helaman, and this is what I read, that resonated so strongly with me today. These are the words that Helaman, a prophet of God, said to his sons, whom he had named after some of their ancestors who had been very righteous: "Behold, I have given unto you the names of our first parents who came out of the land of Jerusalem; and this I have done that when you remember your names, you may remember them; and when ye remember them you may remember their work; and when you remember their works ye may know how that it is said, and also written, that they were good." As I read that today (and I've read it many times before), I thought immediately of my mother and the great privilege it is to have been given her name. She was one of the best people I know--so kind to others, so accepting of others, and so gracious to everyone she met. I don't know of many people who didn't just love my mother. All of a sudden, I was humbled that I had been given this name, and knew that I needed to think of it, and remember my mother, and to remember to be good like she was good. I am so thankful that some of our grandsons have the name of Spencer, like their granddad--another great name to live up to. So, I guess I will no longer think of the girl with the red hair who bugged Dennis the Menace so much; rather I will think with love of my beautiful sweet mother, whose name I get to share.
