4000 Bolts of Fabric on the Wall . . .

 The end. And welcome to my job. ")

The Little Things.

I suppose some of the most memorable memories deal with times that really played with our emotions.

For example.

Remember that one time you laughed so hard you wet your pants?

The time you meant to say something extraordinarily witty but you spit on his/her face instead?

Or perhaps it was a boy you really liked, but he decided he liked somebody else more than you, so you commenced debating if you still liked him.

There are even those memories that seldom take their place anywhere but your heart.

:) Those are arguably the best kind.

And then there are the memories that get placed gently on your shelf in the form of teddy bears and dolls, corsages and dried flowers from your grandmothers funeral. Little things that remind you of places you visited, people you met, birthdays you celebrated, and Christmases you enjoyed. The saddest part about these wonderful little memories, these wonderful little things, is packing them into brown boxes, sealing them with tape, and placing them in the storage pile.

Thank you, Chloe :)

My shelves are empty, my walls are pictureless, the closest is depleated of stuffed animals, and there are two piles in my room. One is for college.

The other?

For putting away the little things that mean so much to me. I know I should be excited about starting a new adventure, but there's something about having to pack away all the little things - the animals I used to hug and the dolls I used to dress up, the glass figures I used to collect and the bouncy balls I used to name - and place them in boxes, not to be taken with me on my next adventure.

While something like this may seem a trivial thing to be sad about, and while no one may ever understand my individual sorrows, no matter how small, one always does.

And the best part is?

They matter to him, too.


Love, Sunshine.

Oh, Gil? He's just a Chum!

Bikerides to the canyon with someone super special?

Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes

please.

Love, Sunshine

Temple Surprises and Sugar Cookie Bars

Today, someone might say, was an ordinary Sunday. A shower was taken, hair was blown dry, skirts were put on, and breakfast was eaten.

But for me, it started a new beginning of Sundays. Sundays without Young Women's, Sunday School, or Relief Society.Yes, my friends. I am a teacher.

A Primary Teacher.

. . . and not a very good one at that. But all the same, today it was reaffirmed that Primary is where I'm meant to be.

I told my class (which was extremely tired of listening after having already been through two full hours of doing just that) that if they could be quiet, I had a surprise for them after class. All of a sudden, Marissa sat up in her chair; Caleb grinned from ear to ear, and Joslyn wanted to know if she could eat it.

No, I replied. It's not edible. But it is so big I couldn't bring it to class with me!

Oh, they all said. Everyone folded their arms in wait for the surprise.

As soon as I finished the lesson, I told them to stand up, hold hands, and close their eyes. Together with Sister Hoopes and Sister Halls, we led the six children outside towards the Temple.

I'll never forget the way they all smiled when I told them to open their eyes and look up. There, in front of their eyes, was the prettiest building in all American Fork. (Arguably the most beautiful one in all of Utah.) We sat on the grass and they listened as I explained why I brought them here. Marissa then raised her hand and wanted to know if each of them could share what they love about the Temple.

Yes, I replied. Please, teach me about the Temple!

You see, I told myself. Life takes on a deeper meaning when you can look through the eyes of a child. Oh how much you can learn.

Their answers ranged from "I love the pictures of the moon" to "I love the angel." And my all time favorite from our little six year old visitor, "I love that you can get married there." Her response was particularly touching because she told me earlier of how "I don't have a daddy." Silently I prayed that she would come to know, as I do, that someday she will see him again. Families, you see, can be together forever.

After they all taught me about how much they loved the Temple, I met one of my Laurel advisers in the Library. She jokingly said, "Are you glad you're out of Laurels?" and waved a platter of sugar cookie bars in front of me.

After it dawned on me what she was saying, I quickly replied that, No, I've never missed it more in my life!

Sweet memories of starbursts and t-shirt Tye dying flew back to my memory. I remembered campfire moments where marshmallows were scorched and friendships were forged; Sundays when only five of us were Laurels; nights when homework was meant to be done, but put aside because someone needed help with hers; activities where we raced to make the best cake or clean the most houses.

I've never missed it more. I figured they'd forgotten about me, considering I hadn't received a text about activities in over a month or been to class in over one and a half.

So thanks for the Sugar Cookie Bar. I really did need it :)

Someday I'll be used to going to Relief Society. Someday I'll have to be released from my calling in Primary. That won't happen for awhile though. Until then, Temple walks and sugar cookie bars?

yes, please.

Radiant Tales: Chapter Twenty.

Where do you stand? I was once asked.
She didn't mean literally. She just wanted to know where my place in the graduation line was.

But I still thought about it.
Hmmm. Where do I stand?

Well, let me tell you.

I once stood for the first time, probably holding onto my mother's fingers.
Once, I stood on my father's feet, grasping his knees and telling him not to go to work today.
I stood, crying and afraid, at the doors of my kindergarten class, not quite sure what would happen.

I once stood at the doors of an airplane, not knowing what my new life would hold.
I stood on the shore of the Isle of Lewis, the banks of Loch Ness, the grounds of the Preston Temple.
I stood at my sister's dorm, hugging and telling her, though she couldn't hear, I didn't want her to go.

And I once stood at the doors of American Fork High School.
I stood at Mrs. Westover's door, worried at the prospect of taking Honors English.
I stood in Orchestra, watching Mrs. Smith wave her baton over my head.
I stood in Miss Shelley's room, her quote drawing me to her class.
I stood at Madame's desk, listening to her encouraging words of defying the world.

And soon, I will stand, in front of my family, my friends, and people I don't even know.
And I will walk.
And leave behind all those places I once stood. Ready for adventure and new places to go.

With shakey knees and watery eyes.
With sweaty palms and stubby fingers.
With every inch that I have grown.

Where will I go?

Well, forward of course.
No matter how shakey, sweaty, or short I am

:)

No matter what people tell me - that I can't study Nursing and French at the same time . . . I will.
That I can't find a job on campus . . . I will.
That I can't earn money to travel the world . . . I will.
That I can't live in Paris or go on a mission . . . I will.

Because that's what standing does. It means I have goals. Plans. Desires. Determination. Faith. Hope.

A purpose.

So.

Here I stand.

Terrified yet excited.
Sad yet happy.
Inadequate yet Ready.
Shaking. Yet Standing.