Nice People (New Years Resolution)

I like nice people. Of course, this should be inevitable. But my appreciation for nice people--the people who smile at you, open the door for you, go out of their way to help you--has grown recently.

Everyone should know how a grumpy person can ruin your day. You may wake up with a smile, but then the world grates at you and pulls at your heels until all your patience is spent and it's all you can do not to scream. Or you could be grumpy yourself, and an even grumpier person can pull you down into the sticky depths of endless grumpiness.

Today, with the news broadcasting never-ending reports of wars, economic difficulties, murder, rape, destruction, pain, suffering, betrayal, and the television and music glorifying violence, explicit language, fornication and death, it's not difficult to find ourselves submerged in negativity. It's no wonder our world is falling apart at the seems. And people are the seems of the world: we are what determines the future of humanity. And if we let negativity rule us, then what hope does our world have?

However, there are those people who cling to what little hope exists. People who would rather walk in the light than hide in darkness. Who gather up the courage to smile when everyone else is frowning.

These people own a deep, sincere part of my heart. They could be a sibling, a neighbor, the cashier at the supermarket, a quiet-spoken librarian, or a stranger that passes you on the street. They are someone who offers gentle assurance, or simply a heart-felt smile.

A few days ago, I was unhappy and bossy and frustrated when my mom and I visited the library. I was going to grab my book and promptly leave, but while I was searching for it, a kindly library surprised me by asking if I need help. I couldn't remember the title of the book, only the author's name. The book wasn't on the shelf, so I expected the librarian to sigh, apologize, and return to desk and forget about the flustered teenager looking for a Cinderella retelling.

Instead, she promised to search for the book on her computer, and returned momentarily with a list of other similar books. She brought me around the shelves, patiently explaining each book on her list.

Earlier, I had been anxious to leave, to get my book so I could curl up in my covers and leave the frustrating world behind, where everyone treated me with contempt, like they never had time to spare me--but following the sweet librarian, I realized that she had gone out of her way to talk to me. (Also, we were talking books, and I'm usually more comfortable around someone who is willing to discuss good books.)

The librarian's hair was thin and her clothes were old-styled, but as she smiled at me in her motherly way, I thought she was beautiful, and I'm not sure if she understood how sincere was my "Thank you so much!"

The librarian who checked out my books stacked them in a perfect pile, largest book on the bottom (I checked out 8 books, six of which the first woman had introduced me to), and I commented to my mom how nice both of them had been to me.

I had eight new novels, a new friend, and a smile on my face. Life was good.

I don't want to be that "grumpier" person. I hate being the reason someone's mood is dampened. Sometimes it's hard to smile. Sometimes I'm just fed up and angry and too emotionally fatigued to compliment rather than scorn.

One thing I lack is patience--ironically, my favorite people are patient people. So I have to work my hardest to become that. I shouldn't be someone I hate.

I don't want to strengthen the darkness. I want to empower the light. I only hope I can be that "kindly librarian" to someone in distress. I know the joy that comes from making someone else happy. Wouldn't it be lovely to know I helped brighten someone's day? That I made their heart warm with happiness, with hope?

Wouldn't it be lovely if every single person tried a little harder to make someone else smile? We can start by smiling ourselves.

My 2009 New Years Resolution is: MAKE EVERY MOMENT COUNT. This has many meanings, but overall, it means "Don't let your life pass you by." One way I can make this happen is to be happy (Every minute of unhappiness is sixty seconds of happiness wasted) and I can't be truly happy if someone else is unhappy.

“Those who bring sunshine to the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves.” James Matthew Barrie

The world is mean, so we have to be that much kinder. It is harsh, so we have to be that much more gentle. It is negative, so we have to be that much more positive; optimistic. The world is filled with hate, so we have to love that much harder.

“Always be a little kinder than necessary.”

James Matthew Barrie

"When life gives you a hundred reasons to frown, give life a thousand reasons to smile."

365 days doesn't divide 1000 equally (2.78), so starting January 1st, my goal is to everyday list one reason to frown and ten reasons to smile. Each reason will be different. By the end of the year, I should have 3,650 reasons to smile.

I wish you the Merriest Christmas and a fantastically wonderful New Year!

I love you! Keep smiling!

<3: Jillian

Ice Storm

The natives have warned us about Indiana weather, about freezing rain. I thought it meant it was just really, really cold. So this morning when I woke up (at 5:30am) to get ready for seminary, I thought little of the rain outside. When I learned that all the schools were closed and there would be no seminary, I thought it was a little ridiculous. I mean, I'm Utahn, right?

I fell back asleep, and when I awoke, I looked out the window and what did I see?

Giving Thanks

It's a family tradition--every Thanksgiving (and sometimes even Christmas), we find a church or organization that is serving meals to the poor, and volunteer our time, talents, and help. We've done this since I was about 6. However, I haven't really appreciated the opportunity to serve, as I should have, until last year.

For years, I took it for granted. It was always about "Are we going to get food after this?" I only thought of myself, my own comfort.
But last year, we were serving at the Greek Orthodox church in Salt Lake City, Utah. I was packing food in doggie boxes. I was watching the disgruntled and disheveled individuals pass through the lines, their clothes ragged and dirty, their teeth rotting and yellow. I thought of my warm bed at home, my fridge full of food, my well-used toothbrush and the several extras just laying dormant in the closet. I remember one woman in particular: She was small, petite, with long grey hair, impossibly wrinkly face, and a foreign accent. When I handed her a plate of pumpkin pie, she thanked me, her eyes moist. Every time I passed her, she thanked me in the same heart-felt tone. To me, my action was simple: I had only given her a slice of pumpkin pie and a small turkey dinner. But, perhaps, this was the only hot meal she'd had in months, maybe even years. Perhaps I had helped make a dream come true, simply by smiling and offering a few seconds of my time.

This year, I hoped for a similar experience. I didn't want to think of myself; I'd get my turkey dinner later, at home. I helped an old man carry his food to his table, and throughout his meal he'd thank me. Another old man thanked me and smiled his crooked smile, genuinely grateful. When I asked a black woman, mother of five, if she needed anything, the look she gave me could have torn down the strongest warrior. She thanked, smiling hugely, and told me I was "so nice." I was on my feet the entire time, from 10-2pm. We served 700 take out boxes and 700 in the cafeteria, using 100 turkeys. I couldn't sit still when someone needed help. I just wanted to help. And the top of the pitcher ONLY fell off ONCE, spilling Sierra mist all over the table and one guy's backpack, so I was fortunate.
(However, near the end, I felt like the Barbie at the end of Toy Story--"My cheeks are killing me! I can't keep smiling like this. I think I need a break. A little break? *sigh* Okay." Had I really been smiling that much? haha)

It was an indecribable experience. It was incredible. I curse myself for the years lost in selfishness. These last two years of this tradition have been amazing. I know that many of those 1,400 people served may have returned to sheds or cardboard boxes, and my service may have been fleeting, I'm just grateful for the opportunity to help them, to lighten their hearts, even momentarily---but I wish I could do more.

I came home and thought: "Here I am, at my large, warm, cozy house. I can go wrap up in my cushy blankets and read "Suite Scarlett." I can go use a flushing toilet or a hot shower. Here's my fridge, stocked with food. Three turkeys. Two pumpkin pies. A cherry pie. Edy's Chocolate Peanut Butter Chunk ice cream. Left over Indian. Clean water. Tortilla chips. Baby carrots. And I always say, "There's nothing to eat!""

How ignorant am I?
(Let's keep in mind, I'm typing on my laptop, with fast internet, listening to iTunes, curled up on my comfy couch. Psh.)

I am incredibly blessed. Things aren't perfect in my family---far from, actually---but we're alive, we have a house. We have food, clothing, money, talents, violin lessons, a washer and dryer (I've learned to appreciate those over the last few weeks, as we didn't have a dryer and had to do it old-fashioned way, with clothes pins, and it took two days for clothes to dry), a dishwasher, a TV, three computers, a piano, a couch, beds, blankets, socks (I am very grateful for socks!), uber lots of movies, stereos, music, pots and pans, spices, chairs, tables, mirrors, books, shelves, silverware, shoes, hairspray, toothpaste, flusing toilets, two showers, sinks, running, clean water, pens, paper, coats, jewelry, friends, pictures, air conditioning, heater, glass in our windows, doors, a yard, a tether ball, the ability to read, school books, freedom, hair, healthy bodies, jobs, walls, a roof, the gospel of Jesus Christ, the scriptures, each other. These are only a few of my blessings. And I am eternally grateful for them.

Honestly, it's not fair that I should have all this and so many people have nothing. I once received an email with pictures of children in Africa; it broke my heart to pieces. The children were skin and bones, and one boy wore old plastic water bottles with ragged straps as a substitution for shoes. When I have 30 pairs of perfectly comfortable shoes. I guess the commandment to impart of our substance has been on my mind a lot lately. I just wish I knew how I could help more.

At least I have one bit of advice that is easy to remember and perform:

"A smile is the simplest act of service, and it only takes a second to perform."

And everyone knows how a smile can brighten your day. I am very aware of this.
I hope that by smiling I can help someone. It's the least I can do.

Since I'm discussing things for which I'm grateful, it's only appropriate to mention you---all of you, my friends. Thank you for everything you have ever done for me, even if it was insignificant, even if it was just a smile. It means the world. You mean the world to me. Thank you! I love you so much.

So this lovely Thanksgiving (two more things for which I'm grateful: holidays and sunshine), what are you thankful for?

Random Activities in the Mid-West

The first snow!

We toured Indiana on Friday. Bluffton State Park!

Gene Stratton-Porter's home in Geneva, IN

Me under a historic bridge. It's over 100 years old!

Swing Party!

For the last couple of weeks, a group of kids from the stake have invited me to learn swing dancing. These are from last Friday. We played Twister while dinner (chicken fajitas) was cooking, and then went downstairs to dance. It was so much fun!



Jason
Tyler
Hailey in the background; Jason, Jenalyn, and Jill on the mat.

While Grandma and Grandpa were here...

My Grandma and Grandpa Gehrig visited us on their way home to Colorado from their mission in New York. We went to the Amish town of Grabill, IN, and Grandma bought us masks from one of the gift shops there.
Molly, me, Allison
In the antique shop in Grabill, I found my favorite room.
A quaint Amish cemetery.
"Aubrey, you're a stud!"
"Thank you, thank you very much."
Allison's mask.
Molly's Marilyn Monroe mask!

My Audrey Hepburn mask!

Lake Michigan

My family drove up to Lake Michigan for the day. We played in the sand, chased seagulls, stood in the freezing water, ate at a cute cafe, and had a grand ol' time!
The boardwalk that we hiked.
In front of the New Buffalo Beach, MI, lighthouse!
On New Buffalo Beach!
The seagulls that my sister and I chased!
On the boardwalk.
Just one of the houses on Long Beach. They're worth about 1+ million dollars! I would die for property like this!
My sisters and I challenged each other to see who could stay in the water the longest. I won!
It was FREEZING! But so much fun! The waves splashed us up to our faces!

Animal Day at the Botanical Center!

The Botanical Center here in Fort Wayne had an animal day. My sisters, my dad and I went and had a lot of fun!
A pony!
A llama! And me holding the spider plant that I potted there.
A cocateil that could "play dead"! It was so cool!
A miniature pig! So cute!
A chinchilla! Oh my, it was so soft!!
A guinea pig!
Baby zebras and a Z-Donk! C=

Singin' In the Rain!

It began to rain here (surprise!) , and within SECONDS my sisters, Molly and Allie, and I were completely drenched, and a deep river was running down the gutters and alleyway. We danced in the rain and had a dandy ol' time! So lovely! C=
Puddles!
Waltzing in the rain!
This is me, approximately five seconds after I left the shelter of my house.
Spring Street.

Club Lucy Liu!

A couple of girls from my ward, Cecilia and Gaby, invited me to go with them to the mall. Our favorite store was Club Lucy Liu, where we sat in the princess chair, had our fortunes told, sand along to the store's overhead music, and had uber lots of fun!Cecilia and me in the princess chair!
Gaby and me in the princess chair!
Sparkly sand. This was amazing!
The fortune-telling table. "Does he like me?" "Am I popular?" lol!
We spent at least an hour here!

Gene Stratton-Porter, Shipshewana, Indiana, Michigan, and Ohio

A few weeks ago, my family drove up to Shipshewana, IN. This little rural town, on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, has a flea market of a minimum of 1,000 stalls. We definitely have to go back up there on one of those days. Shipshewana has a large Amish population, and it was fascinating to see dozens of buggies pass by us on the road. (Rather, we passed them, because they are horse-drawn, and slower.) We saw several garages housing buggies, and several Pioneer-era style clothed women gardening in their front yards. We stopped into an outdoor store, where they had porch swings, life-size cabins that you could buy, swing sets, gazebos, and pretty much anything else you could imagine, even puppies for adoption. Puppies are so fletching adorable, especially the ones that don't get big, lol. My favorite was a black Pomeranian puppy the size of my hands together. It wouldn't stop nibbling on my fingers.

We got Amish-made ice cream for lunch. Mine was Amaretto Cherry: marcino cherries and chocolate chunks. Gotta have chocolate. It was delicious. Then we went shopping in an Amish-run grocery store. There were a lot of teenaged cashiers, and I wondered what sort of life theirs must be. Certainly not half as crazy as mine, the urban-er.

Then we went to the cheese and meat store, and tasted cheese and jerky and marshmallow-cream peanut butter. Cheese is next to chocolate in deliciousness, I swear. Especially homemade cheese. (I was convinced that the fudge/cheese bar would be heaven, but they didn't have samples of that.)

Then, since we were ten miles away, we drove over the Michigan border, and got our pictures taken by the "Welcome To..." sign. Then we drove over the Ohio border, getting our pictures by the sign. I have now been in 19 states! Next weekend, I think we might go Lake Michigan and play on the beach. Before it gets too cold.

This country really is beautiful. It's so lush and green and...vast. When the trees aren't canopying you, you can see for miles over the rolling hills. It's incredible. And it has the cutest houses. I mean, seriously. Colonial, beach-like, Victorian, you name it. When we buy a house, I want a white Georgetown Colonial with blue accents (door, windowsills) and hanging and window baskets with red flowers, a quaint walkway, smooth green grass and gigantic, leafy trees.

This outdoor dinner table rocked back and forth!A Buggie!




Then we went to the Gene Stratton-Porter home. She wrote "Girl of the Limberlost" in the 1800s. I am now reading it. The Stratton-Porter home is right on the lake and has a gorgeous flower garden with an ivy-covered arched pathway, all 1800-ish, and as I walked through it alone, I thought about how perfect a time it was for me to run inadvertently into a tall, strapping young suitor in breeches, with a thick British accent, who would take my arm and escort me through the garden, and we'd talk about horse-back riding and other such things that they would talk about in the 1800s. I felt like a Jane Austen heroine. If only I'd had an empire-waisted gown, instead of jeans.
After I read "Girl of the Limberlost" we'll return to the house to tour it. That should be fun.
The Ivy covered archway. If I wasn't LDS, I'd get married in an archway like this.
The garden.

My dad and his find: a puffball mushroom!
Gene's grave.