Vacation to Utah!

Hello! Sorry it's been so long since I've last written. Mostly, I procrastinate.

Here in Indiana, we've been struggling to survive the sub-zero temperature. That's right, sub-zero. On the 14th of January, seminary was closed because it was -17 degrees, with a high of 1. I'm not sure it actually got that high. However, on January 16th, Mom, the twins, and I journeyed to Utah. In this letter, I will recount that trip.

1/16: Wake up at 6am, board airplane (on which I discovered my carry-on luggage was too tall to fit in the overhead bin, so a flight attendant escorted me to the back of the plane (with tired and curious fellow passengers looking on) and gave me a large bag to fill with excess luggage. I quickly emptied the top of my suitcase, thanked the flight attendant, and hurried to my seat. My suitcase fit above, thankfully. It was the twin's first time on a passenger airplane, so they were nervous and excited.
Approximately two hours later, we landed in the Dallas/Fort Worth, Texas airport, with an hour delay. My first time in Texas! Even though I never left the terminals, haha. It still counts. I wasn't sure what to expect of Texas, but it wasn't that exciting: Never ending flat, barren ground. Fort Wayne is flat, but it has trees.
We rode a train/subway thing that sped us toward the opposite side of the airport. DFW is gimongus! Thank goodness we didn't have to walk, especially since I had a wobbly suitcase (my friends later named it Penguin) and an awkwardly-shaped travel bag. We bought miniature hot-n-ready pizzas from Pizza Hut (in truth, I forgot that it was Sunday...), and it wasn't long until we were skedaddling onto our next flight.
I read Christopher Paolini's (go home-schoolers!) Brisingr until I fell asleep. Did you know that, depending on your plane, you can mold the headrest to fit your head, so you can sleep more comfortably? I thought that was awesome!
An hour and forty-five minutes later, we arrived at the Salt Lake International Airport. By now, I feel dirty. It's 5pm. My shoulder hurts, so I rest said travel bag and my purse on my suitcase, where they rest against the handlebars as I roll it down the terminal. Coming down the escalator, with all the other passengers directly behind me, my purse decides it's had enough of being stuffed away, and explodes. Out fall my wallet, my notebook and pen, and my camera. Out of my camera falls its batteries. Mind you, we're in the middle of the escalator. Panic--within me--ensues. Briefly, I fear my batteries will get sucked into the floor, where the escalator disappears. People are in front of me, and I can't push past. Finally, on the floor, I park my suitcase and wait anxiously for the crowd to pass, praying they won't step on my items. Clark Kent is a trooper, but even Superman has his weaknesses.
When it's clear, I dive forward to pick up my scattered belongings. Everything is intact, and the batteries are turning in frantic circles at the foot of the escalator, unable to hop the curb onto sturdy floor, and too fat to slip under the lip in the ground. I snatch these up. We head for the restrooms, pronto. I remove my jackets, pjs, journal and purse from the travel bag and stuff them again into my suitcase. Whew. I will definitely not overpack next trip, despite what you may think.
After running back and forth and up and down in the airport, Molly and I find cellular service, and are able to contact our ride to Stansbury Park. Waiting on the curb of our ride's house are my two best friends in this entire world: KK and Parker! I say a quick goodbye to my family and depart with KK and Parker, walking to her house down the block. Later that night, more friends appeared and we partay-ed! Mostly, we watched Hercules.
I didn't get to bed before midnight. C=
1/17: Martin Luther King Jr. Day, so I have all day to spend with friends in Stansbury. KK, Parker, Heather, Kacy and I drive to the University Mall to window shop, hang, and check out gorgeous prom dresses! (We dragged Parker around with us, of course...=p) It was a blast, and KK and I each ended up buying 5 dollar-T-shirts from AnchorBlue.
1/18: Meet up with family. We drive to Salt Lake City, and take a tour of Temple Square. I lived there for 12 years and I don't recall ever taking a tour before. We listened to an acoustics test in the Tabernacle, which was pretty incredible. The organ has like...11,655 pipes, or something like that. We ran into a senior missionary couple who are from Muncie, Indiana, and whose daughter and her family live in our ward. Small world, isn't it?
Walking past the temple and all its splendor and beauty, it reminded me of how much I missed it. Missed going inside a temple, to be more accurate. Hopefully we can go to the Chicago temple soon.
Our ride to Layton arrived, and we headed in that direction. We spent the day with long-time friends, the Smedleys. I always love visiting the Smedleys! I consider it my second home. We did a lot of catching up, and it's staggering how old we're all getting. It seems only yesterday we were crunching through the woods behind my house in Layton, building log forts, collecting trash to decorate said forts, burying any unfortunate animals that crossed our paths (unfortunate, as they were already dead. We were just showing tribute to them by giving them a proper burial in our little cemetery), and pretending to be "lost girls." Now we're teenagers, faced with school, jobs, drama, and boys (actually, I think the first three all accumulate into the last). We're still silly ol' us, though, and that's nice.
1/19: After watching Over Her Dead Body (hilarious!), family leaves for Orem at about noon. We attended a session at the Draper Temple Open House. I went through the Bountiful Temple open house when I was about two, but I don't remember it. I'm not particularly fond of the exterior stone on the Draper temple (it looks like a prison), but the interior is utterly gorgeous! The spirit there was incredible, even if it hasn't been dedicated to the Lord yet. I wanted to sit in the Celestial room and never, ever leave. And I didn't know that temples have a bride dressing room. I think that's awesome! It made me want to do baptisms even more. Afterward, there were refreshments in the neighboring chapel, along with a beautiful display of paintings. There was one of Christ and Mary Magdalene in front of the tomb, that I've never seen before, but I thought it was beautiful. Mary's expression displays complete love and devotion and adoration for her Lord, and it caught my heart.
We settle in at the Escalantes' at around dinner time, who have been generous enough to allow us room and board for the LDS Film Festival for the last few years. Then we hurry over to the Scera Center for the Arts for the Meet and Greet part of the Festival. Official staff badges in place (the little cards that allow us entrance into about every nook and cranny of the festival--I LOVE it! =D), we take tickets and hand out ballots for the opening film, Father in Israel, directed by our good friend and director of the festival (and Austrian--amazing accent!), Christian Vuissa.
Main reason I love handing out ballots: Getting to meet hundreds of funny, fashionable, peculiar people. (Filmmakers are a race of their own.) This also includes meeting many attractive male specimens, but that's another story.
Father in Israel is incredibly good, and very-well made, as are all of Christian's movies. I definitely recommend seeing it when it comes out.
After the movie, as is tradition, the actors and filmmakers of the specific movie meet at the Celebrity Wall in the gallery for pictures and autographs. The twins and I got our picture taken with the young actors of the movie, and with the missionary brother. I only wanted this actor's picture because he's famous in Mormon Cinema. The fact that he was blond with blue eyes and an irresistable smile had nothing to do with it.
1/20: Full day of volunteering at the festival. KK came up with her mom to volunteer for a few hours, and we saw a few documentaries. One was about the Nauvoo pageant (which I will attend this summer for Youth Conference!) and one was about a family with three little boys who all had mental/physical disabilities and were getting a new house because theirs was condemned, as it was infested with black mold. Both documentaries were very powerful. I also saw a documentary on the life of the late, and beloved, Prophet Gordon B. Hinckley. It was interesting to learn more about his life and how he became the man whom I have come to love and respect and adore. It is impossible in every way for me to think of President Hinckley and not know that the gospel is true and that Christ lives. It was through President Hinckley's (and ultimately through Christ's) teachings that gave me my testimony. Needless to say, I was a mess by the end of the film. (Also, I had no idea he was such a hopeless romantic! His relationship with Majorie is adorable!)
I could have gone to Stansbury with KK when she left, but I really wanted to attend my favorite part of the Festival: the 24-Hour Film Marathon. (The fact that the majority of the 24 hour marathoners are male teenage/young single adults again had nothing to do with my enjoyment of taking tickets.) Landon acted in a film, as did Aubrey and Josie, so I had to go support them. This year, most of the films were really good. There was a Twilight (for those who don't know what this is, it's a novel by Stephanie Meyer, and now a feature-length movie) spoof that was ridiculously hilarious. "You're impossibly fast, and strong. Your hands are pale and icy cold. You have a beer belly and an unshaven face, and smell really bad." (If you've seen the real movie, you'll understand.) Anyhoo!
A young man was in the crowd (he talked to me for a second), who I swore was David Archuleta. Seriously, from what I knew of the young Utahn singer/American Idol runner up, this kid was identical. There was even a film about how David Archuleta was in the audience. Turns out, it was just a joke, and the kid said he wasn't David. Who knows if he was telling the truth, to avoid the press? So I googled David Archuleta when I got home. The kid was telling the truth, because David isn't half as good looking. haha!
Afterward, I watched the feature length film, Dragon Hunter. Remember that missionary brother actor? Yeah. He's lovely. McClaine Nelson is his name. The movie was great, but a cheap remake of Eragon. Not even kidding, there was a reluctant young man, a single beautiful, mysterious female elf, dragons... The acting was a little stiff at some parts, but it was well-made, the CG wasn't horrible, and it was very visually attractive.
1/21: I manned the door for filmmaker presentations downstairs. This is where assigned filmmakers go and give a presentation on their work and talk about what it's like to be be their particular occupation (director, actor, screenwriter, etc.). I partly wanted to be upstairs to watch movies, but since I was downstairs, I was able to attend the beginning of McClaine Nelson's presentation. C=
Then I returned to the 'Bury. My friends are utterly amazing, and it was great to see them again!
1/22: Since Parker was helping a family move into their house, and Heather was attending the Draper Temple Open House, KK and I decided to make a quick trip to the D.I. We tried on some rather ridiculous outfits, and some rather cute ones. I tried on these KILLER white boots, with a pointy toe and metal, spike heels. If they weren't 15$, I so would have bought them. That night, we went to a stake dance, which providence had set for the weekend I was in Utah. I saw many of my dearest friends, and had an absolute blast. It wasn't completely without tears, though; my friends can profess to that. We wanted to stay up until I had to leave for the plane at 5 the next morning, but we only made it to about 2am.
1/23: We made it to the airport just in time, so I had to hurry through security, and our goodbyes were painfully and unfortunately brief. I'm so sorry for that, KK! =C
Having learned from last trip, I pre-stuffed clothes into my AnchorBlue bag, so my suitcase fit in the overhead bin without too much difficulty (it fit, but that doesn't mean it didn't weigh as much as my bed....). I slept the entire way (waking up in spurts) to Dallas/Fort Worth, and most of the way to Fort Wayne. The trip went a lot smoother than the flight there, I daresay. But it wasn't without flaw, as nothing ever is. I don't remember exactly what happened, but I know something probably fell or came undone or ripped. Welcome to my life. C=

That's the low down of my vacation to Utah. It was awesome, and I already miss it!

Guess what? I already received my birthday present! It's a cello! We found her on Craigslist for 350$, but when we drove to Cromwell to see her, the guy brought the price down to 300$. I am now the proud owner of a violin, mandolin, and cello! My first lesson was last week, and I learned the basics. Since I play violin, I am able to comprehend the cello. Really, the most important things I need to learn are technique and to memorize the bass clef. I have already taught myself to play a few songs, such as How Firm a Foundation, Amazing Grace, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and Old McDonald Had a Farm! I am officially in love with it. I named her Sophie. (To think, I've had my cello for a week and I've already named it, when I've had my violin for 5 years, and still can't make up my mind on a name.)
Yesterday, Dad, Mom, the twins, and I went cross country skiing! (Because, of course, there ain't no hill high enough to really ski.) It was my first time on skis, which are a klutz's worst nightmare. I fell down a lot, but I had fun! What with skiing and my cello, I'm a little sore lately. haha!
My Sweet Sixteen is in 22 days! I am stoked! C=
In regards to my writing, I'm on it again! I started writing I AM BUTTERFLI last week. I outlined it on paper, so now it feels almost official. All I have to do is get it out. This is the part I hate most about writing: when I have the story in my head, the characters in bloom, but I'm the only one who knows about them. They exist, but not on paper, and no one else can know what I know. I can't wait for readers to meet Jace and Butterfli!
A family friend, and member of the stake, Shane Thomson, is an editor for Variance Publishing, and has offered to help me edit the manuscript. This is exciting, as it will give me experience and a polished novel!

I'd like to make a shout out: WOW! GOOD LUCK, ELDER McCLATCHY! I AM CERTAIN YOU WILL DO AMAZING! REMEMBER, LOSE YOURSELF AND GO TO WORK, AND ALWAYS GO WITH GOD! I WILL MISS YOU, DEAR FRIEND! C=




www.jilliansuzannnewell.webs.com

I Believe In Fairy Tales - an essay

Fairy Tales
Jillian Suzann Newell

I believe in fairy tales. I believe in magic. I believe that each of us are living a fairytale---not necessarily a fairytale like Cinderella, who rode in pumpkin-made-carriage, or like Jasmine, who flew on a magic carpet, but a real-life fairytale. The magic in these tales is different, but it affects us in the same way as it did the fairytale Disney Princesses.

Every fairytale princess experienced hardships and shattered hopes and dreams, but they never stopped believing. They persevered, stuck their chins up, and refused to give in, to surrender to the whims of their evil stepmothers, or wicked witches, or corrupt advisers. Innately, they knew they were meant for more, that they were destined for greatness. And, in consequence of their unwavering belief and perseverance, fate led them to their Prince Charming, that handsome, chivalrous, sweet man who would sweep them off their feet and carry them into the sunset. And everyone knows that they were meant for each other, made for each other---they could never love another more than they love each other. They found true love.

Each of those Princesses---Rapunzel, Snow White, Cinderella, Mulan, Jasmine, Belle, Aurora, Thumbelina---had a happy ending.

Similarly, we each are living a fairytale, unique to every person. We ourselves are fairytale princesses, and just as the Princesses had trials, so do we. At times they felt overwhelmed and doubted their worth, finding it difficult to be strong and brave; at times, when the sky is dark and our worlds seem to be falling apart, we find it hard to believe that the night will ever yield to the dawn, that the pressures of this world will never cease to multiply. When disappointment suffocates any trace of hope, we doubt our self-worth, also. "There is no Prince Charming for me," we tell ourselves. "I'll never find true love."

In short, it is hard to believe that our story will have a happy ending.

I firmly believe that this is not the case. As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, I believe in an "after-life." I know that when I choose whom I will marry, that is the most important decision I will ever make, because I will spend the rest of eternity with that man.

If God intends a couple to remain with each other for eternity, surely He planned for that couple to be perfectly compatible. Surely, finding each other wasn't coincidence---it was fate. Destiny.

I've heard some say, to this extent: "But what if he isn't the one? Yes, we love each other and have never been happier, but what if the man that was made for me is on the other side of the world, and I never find him?"

God has a plan; He didn't create your true love to have them marry someone else, just because they never met you. As I said, everyone's fairytale is unique. We were born where we were born for a reason. You may have moved a million places or lived in the same house your entire life. God, the author of fate, gave your dad a new job, your family a new house with the intent to lead you to your destiny. The people you meet, the friends you make, have a significant role in your story. They are only supporting characters, but their influence changes and builds you, helps mold you into the person you were meant to be, the person for whom your true love is looking.

Simultaneously, your true love was born where they were born for a reason. Their dad got a new job that led them that much closer to you. It's like a graph: either of you have a starting point and eventually you'll meet in the middle.

I believe that God would only put your true love on the other side of the world if He supplied a way for you to eventually find each other. And you will find each other; your paths will cross because the events in your life led you there.

God gave you the way, the opportunity: however, it's up to us to grasp it and hold tight.

But what about magic? The magic that exists in this busy, confusing world is that which breaks through every barrier---physical, mental, emotional. It may not create a gown of shimmering silk, but it makes your knees weak, your heart race, your mind free. You feel it when a cute boy walks by. It reverberates through you when he gazes into your eyes. Your skin tingles where he brushed your arm, or touched your face. You know magic influenced you when you can't stop smiling for days, when your dreams are pleasant, when you feel able to fly on the wings of love.

With this magic, you don't need a ball gown to be pretty (truthfully, no one needs a ball gown to be pretty). Rather, just as you feel the magic, so will your "true love," and they will find you more beautiful than any glittering dress or glass slipper. And just as God made someone perfectly compatible to you, that someone will love you regardless of your shortcomings. The Princesses weren't perfect, and neither were their Prince Charmings, but just as Disney planned, God did, also. They weren't perfect humans, but they were PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER.

Therefore, despite the hardships and disappointments we face, we mustn't give up. We will each find our Prince Charming. We will each find true love. We will each have our happy endings. With our true love, we will live happily ever after---for eternity, as Princes and Princesses, Kings and Queens.

All we have to do is believe.

Confidence! - an essay

In today's world, beauty is everything. If you don't have the latest hairstyle or the cutest dress or the right cologne, you are worth next to nothing--you are not "beautiful."

But what is beauty, exactly? Is it that bronze-skinned, golden haired, strappy-bikini-wearing model on front of a glossy magazine? (If you don't look like her, are you ugly?) Is beauty a shirt from a high-end manufacturer with a $152 price tag? Or is beauty your smiling neighbor, your laughing mom, your best friend who always seems to know when you're blue and just how to make your day brighter?

Beauty is within each of us. No matter our age, our ethnicity, or the size of our pocket-book, beauty shines in our eyes. Those around you see it when you smile, when your laughter rings in the air, when you offer a kind word, and, even more importantly, when you are being yourself--you, the real you, the individual underneath it all.

We are all--every single one of us--unique. We all have talents, and though you may share many of these talents with others, no one has the exact same talents as you. We all have gifts--innate gifts. You may have a keen sense of the human heart, and therefore always know the right thing to say. You may empower people. Maybe you can easily make people laugh. You may have a gentle spirit, and unconsciously encourage people to be kinder. Your spirit may be fiery, and your ambition could give strength to your peers. The possibilities are endless, and whatever your gift may be, you have the ability to impact someone's life, even change the world.

You are a necessary piece in the puzzle that is the world. When you feel like just another member of the crowd, one of a million, remember that without you there would only be 999,999 members of that crowd. What if someone else decided they were worthless? There would only be 999,998. What if everyone decided they were worthless? Our world would be empty.

You must remember that without you--your smile, your laughter, your strength, your unequivocal capability to love--the world would be a duller, more repugnant place. Why? Because, what is beauty?

Beauty is you.

I AM BUTTERFLY - a poem

I wrote this poem on a whim of inspiration. It may become the preface to a future novel of mine, of the same title.

I AM BUTTERFLY

Jillian Suzann Newell

Beneath the dull grey sky

Above the dusty road

I flutter

I dart

I float

I glide

Behind the olden tree

Before the broken boat

I move

I soar

I fly

I flee

Amidst the bustling world

Without a welcome heart

I dance

I leap

I sing

I twirl

Beyond a hopeless mind

Beside a des’late soul

I beckon

I lead

I show

I find

Whene’er dreams dare stand still

When wishes fade with time

I add

I shift

I turn

I change

Despite a ruthless lie

Inside the darkest hour

I glisten

I sparkle

I glitter

I shine.

I am beauty.

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?