I am a Grasshopper

One day my sweet sister Carol gave me a book.  Thrilled, she announced, "I finally understand you, Jill. You are a grasshopper!"  When I read the small volume, I realized that indeed, I am grasshopper.
In the Disney story of the Grasshopper and the Ants, the grasshopper fiddles and sings away the summer, while the ants work to store food for the coming winter. In a blizzard, the ants sit warmly and quietly on their great mound of food storage—absolutely bored. Suddenly, the shivering grasshopper knocks on the door. The head ant gives the grasshopper a stern lecture then says, "You can take your fiddle" ... long thoughtful pause..."and play!" The grasshopper enters the ant hill with his fiddle to offer laughter, music, singing, dancing, and fun.

I am a grasshopper:

My wonderful mother is a worker ant and she cleaned houses to buy clothes and toilet paper for 11 children. I wrote and published books and poems about housecleaning:

A Tribute to Doors

The scum on my tub got no scrubbing today,
But that’s O.K.
The bathroom has a door.

I slept quite late and my bed is unmade.
Companies coming, but I’m not afraid.
The bedroom has a door.

The cupboard shelves are bulging out.
No time to clean! No good to pout.
The cupboard has a door.

A murder mystery beat out the dishes again,
But I can face it with a grin.
The kitchen has a door.

What do I do when the house is a mess,
And the minutes are short? You probably guessed,
Go out and shut the door.
---Jill C. Major, Clean Your House and Everything in It, 1982.



Like an ant, I carry my food (and camping equipment) on my 58 year old back, but I do it to see the most beautiful places on earth: Yosemite, the Grand Canyon, High Uintahs, Yellowstone, the Grand Gulch…

I let the rain soak my face and hair and I dance and sing, “Singing in the Rain” and I chase rainbows.

I store colorful kites in my classroom at Wasatch Elementary where I teach special education. I fly them on “perfect kite flying days.” Wasatch students stand in a long line to hold the string, often exclaiming, “I’ve never flown a kite before!”

I play old records just to hear the scratching sound and I bought an old chair from Deseret Industries, because I loved the creak, creaking when it rocked.

During a snow storm, I sing, “Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!” in my loudest voice and study individual snowflakes that fall on my gloves.

I sled down the hill in my backyard with the kids and grandkids.

My gifts are usually gifts of happy memories: Cherry Hill, Boondocks, a play at Hale Theater, pajamas, home made books, a trip to Legoland, Disneyland and the ocean.

I celebrate my birth for a season, instead of a day.

I research genealogy while I watch murder mysteries.

Grasshoppers absolutely depend on ants for daily needs and fortunately for me, I met the prince of the ant kingdom, Ken Major. I was more interested in studying psychology and having fun than in marriage, family, or going to church. Part of my “fun” was arguing with returned missionaries about their Mormon beliefs. One night I started blasting antagonizing questions at Ken about a much deluded (or so I thought) prophet who saw God and Jesus. Ken said confidently, “I don’t know how to answer you Jill, but I know Joseph Smith saw Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.” An electric current ran through my heart and head and I knew and know the church I grew up in is true.

I dated Ken and he taught me about paying tithing, saving and planning for the future, and eating dinner at the same time night after night; I taught him how to write, hike, laugh, and fly kites. We married in the Salt Lake Temple and raised eight children together—some ants, with grasshopper qualities; some grasshoppers with ant qualities. All of them wonderful!

*Special thanks to Louise Plummer for writing "Thoughts of a Grasshopper."