Empathy

Armed with snacks,
the keyboard,
and my thoughts,

I try to create.
I try to make the words line up just so.
I try to paint a picture out of letters.

Diction.
Phrases.
Punctuation.
Dialogue.

Bit by bit,
word by word,
it comes.

A mural of sentences,
A story.

Its goal?
My goal?
To make you feel.

Understanding.
Insight.
Empathy.

We Need a Little Christmas

I love this season. I love the spirit of Christmas, the hope, the magic.

My family has a lot of traditions. We have stories we read, songs we sing, movies to watch, Clues to find, and treats to eat.

But most of all, this season is to celebrate Him.

I'd like to share some things that help me remember WHY we celebrate. Because without Him, there wouldn't be much of a season, not much to hope for, and not much to celebrate.

Here is one of my favorite stories. Enjoy.

For years now, whenever Christmas pageants are talked about in a certain little town in the Midwest, someone is sure to mention the name of Wallace Purling.

Wally's performance in one annual production of the Nativity play has slipped into the realm of legend. But the old-timers who were in the audience that night never tire of recalling exactly what happened.

Wally was nine that year and in the second grade, though he should have been in the fourth. Most people in town knew that he had difficulty keeping up. He was big and awkward, slow in movement and mind.

Still, Wally was well liked by the other children in his class, all of whom were smaller than he, though the boys had trouble hiding their irritation when Wally would ask to play ball with them or any game, for that matter, in which winning was important.

They'd find a way to keep him out, but Wally would hang around anyway—not sulking, just hoping. He was a helpful boy, always willing and smiling, and the protector, paradoxically, of the underdog. If the older boys chased the younger ones away, it would be Wally who'd say, "Can't they stay? They're no bother."

Wally fancied the idea of being a shepherd in the Christmas pageant, but the play's director, Miss Lumbard, assigned him a more important role. After all, she reasoned, the innkeeper did not have too many lines, and Wally's size would make his refusal of lodging to Joseph more forceful.

And so it happened that the usual large, partisan audience gathered for the town's yearly extravaganza of crooks and creches, of beards, crowns, halos and a whole stageful of squeaky voices.

No one on stage or off was more caught up in the magic of the night than Wallace Purling. They said later that he stood in the wings and watched the performance with such fascination that Miss Lumbard had to make sure he didn't wander onstage before his cue.

Then the time came when Joseph appeared, slowly, tenderly guiding Mary to the door of the inn. Joseph knocked hard on the wooden door set into the painted backdrop. Wally the innkeeper was there, waiting.

"What do you want?" Wally said, swinging the door open with a brusque gesture.

"We seek lodging."

"Seek it elsewhere." Wally spoke vigorously. "The inn is filled."

"Sir, we have asked everywhere in vain. We have traveled far and are very weary."

"There is no room in this inn for you." Wally looked properly stern.

"Please, good innkeeper, this is my wife, Mary. She is heavy with child and needs a place to rest. Surely you must have some small corner for her. She is so tired."

Now, for the first time, the innkeeper relaxed his stiff stance and looked down at Mary. With that, there was a long pause, long enough to make the audience a bit tense with embarrassment.

"No! Begone!" the prompter whispered.

"No!" Wally repeated automatically. "Begone!"

Joseph sadly placed his arm around Mary and Mary laid her head upon her husband's shoulder and the two of them started to move away. The innkeeper did not return inside his inn, however. Wally stood there in the doorway, watching the forlorn couple. His mouth was open, his brow creased with concern, his eyes filling unmistakably with tears.

And suddenly this Christmas pageant became different from all others.

"Don't go, Joseph," Wally called out. "Bring Mary back." And Wallace Purling's face grew into a bright smile. "You can have my room."

Some people in town thought that the pageant had been ruined. Yet there were others—many, many others—who considered it the most Christmas of all Christmas pageants they had ever seen.

#SharetheGift #BecauseofHim

This One Time I Lived the Dream/Boston in the Fall

Think of it: movies, novels, TV...the 20 something year olds all do fun, cool things. Example: travel. And I actually did that.

Does that make me cool?

I went to Boston. Ok, yeah, that was like three weeks ago, but...yeah. 20 somethings also procrastinate. Yolo or . . . something.

Anyways.

I thought I'd share some pictures from my Boston adventure! 

Edgar Allen Poe. This statue was actually brand new when I was there. And I love Poe. I once wrote a very Poeish story. This statue was so neat. Poe is briskly walking to who-knows-where and his trunk is falling open. The raven is escaping, a heart is tumbling out, and sheets and sheets of his stories are slipping away. I was very impressed with this statue. 

We visited the Breakers mansion in Rhode Island. It was HUGE and so cool. It made me want to watch Downton. It was right on the ocean and had an amazing view. I really liked the kitchen because it was complete with a pastry pantry, a normal pantry, and a whole wall of stoves. (I've worked with food for too long.)

Allie and I walked around Mt Auburn cemetery for two hours the Sunday I was there. It had the prettiest fall leaves and we saw a heron up close. It is a beautiful place. 

We obviously wandered the city, we went to a Bastille concert, ate great food, we walked along the Hudson, and had a grand time. I love Boston. And Allie. She's great. 

I have successfully been to Boston in the Fall. 

New and Improved

I didn't even know if I'd pick this back up after my Georgia adventure...but a friend asked me too, so here I am.  I feel like this blog is me playing at being bigger than I am but,

"I don't need my name in lights, I'm famous in my Father's eyes."

Thank you, Francesca Battistelli. I love that line. Francesca's my new favorite artist, btw. She's a Christian singer and I adore all her work. I discovered her on the mission and I've been listening ever since. 

Anyways.

I'm not really sure what to write. I want to talk about my recent travels, but I think I should write about my mission for a sec. This is more for me than you, but having an audience makes me feel like the writing is more worthwhile. Pretend it's one of those emails you received weekly.

Georgia. That crazy state is holding onto a lot of my heart even now, almost a month later. I want to go back. There are so many people that I love and miss. I'm not going to make a list, but if you're in Georgia and reading this then yes, you are on that list. 

Because I'm not a Utahan, I ended up being the only missionary on my flight home. I had to say goodbye to 6 of my best friends at the Atlanta airport and off I went to a separate gate. Thankfully I was by a window, and thankfully no one was next to me. I was a 

mess.

That dumb plane took off and I was in tears. I was flying away from so many of my best friends. And I knew that in a few short hours, I'd have to take off my favorite accessory - that little black tag that had the best name possible on it - His. I have 3 of those tags and they sit all around my room so I can always see one. It's weird hearing my first name now and for a while I kept almost introducing myself as "Sister Mitton". 

I still miss it. Some people say that after 6 months it'll go away, but I don't want it to go away. I want to love and miss Georgia forever. One day, hopefully soon, I'll get to go visit and see all my friends.

That place changed me. The people changed me. I say y'all now. I don't ever want to eat okra again, but if it took eating okra to get me a free flight to Georgia, I'd gobble up that okra!  

I love the peach state. I just hope the people love me as much as I love them. 

Write about ME?!

I made a "profile" on mormon.org today. The idea is to showcase typical Mormons and show how they are just typical people. I looked at a few before making mine and they were pretty neat. I have friends who have made them before and their's always seem nice.

I didn't have a problem with the "why I'm a Mormon" part or the "how I live my faith" part. Oh, no. Those parts were easy.

I had to write a whole paragraph on ME.

Yes, I love a lot of things. I am passionate about so much. But I can't just write about ME. Do you know how hard that is?

Rants, thoughts, observations . . . I got this. But simply talk about me? Yikes.

I did it with some help from my seester. I said something about how I write and mentioned Harry Potter and Disney. I think it sounds kind of silly.

But maybe that's what people will relate to. Maybe they'll go "She's ridiculous! So am I!"

Riiiiiiiiight.

Well, it's not a dating site, so maybe they can forgive my ridiculousness. 

I'm a Mormon. I live it. I love it.

See my profile here. 

Adventure is Out There! 1 Week

In exactly 1 week I will fly away from the Great Northwest. I won't be back for 18 months. It will be a new record for me.

And going from Portland to Atlanta . . . now that will be drastic.

But I'm going to embrace it. All of it.

I hope to come back saying "ya'll" in a perfect southern accent.

Now, try to follow as I jump from thought to thought. Warning: this will be random.

I'll miss Harry Potter memes. I spam my friends Facebook feeds with them. I like to think they appreciate it and enjoy it and that they'll miss it while I'm FB free in GA. But, the truth is, probably no one will even notice.

I'm trying to be okay with that.

I'll miss cooking up all the random recipes I've discovered via Pinterest. 

I'll miss Murry scratching at my door. And Murry's circle dance. And him sleeping on my bed. And his cute little tail wagging when I walk in the room. And his goofy smile when I get home. And our afternoon walks. And our morning ones. And evening. 

Can you tell I love my dog?

Shows I'll miss watching/discussing: Psych and Downton. 

I'll miss watching Phineas and Ferb and Pretty Little Liars.

I don't mind too much about missing out on movies except for the new Oz and The Host. And they both come out the month I leave too. UGH.

There aren't any books I was specifically looking forward too, so that's good.

Mostly I'm excited to go. It will be an adventure. And I do like adventures.

Adventure is out there!

I'll miss roller coasters.

Downton Abbey. Need I Say More?

Matthew Crawley.

Right in the feels, huh?

I am not a media crier. I have never shed real tears while reading or watching anything. I do tear up every once in a while, but it has to be good to make that happen.

Let's just say Downton has been that good a few times.

First Sybil. Poor innocent, independent Sybil. I adored her. She was brave and spunky. Maybe I see some of myself in her. Yeah, probably. If I lived in the 20's I would totally root for pants.

But then they killed Matthew. MATTHEW. He is the glue that holds Downton together! He made himself a part of the family when they were hesitant about him being the heir. He was the first to accept Tom, he supports Edith with her writing, he loves Mary regardless of her spiteful nature.

And now he's dead.

When Matthew was lying there, I freaked. I could not believe that he was dead. The author in me was saying,

It's dumb to have him be dead. It's too similar to the Sybil story line of "have a baby, then kill off a parent." 

No, the author in me was convinced he was alive.

But the reasonable part of me was saying, 

His head is bleeding, his eyes are vacantly staring. He's gone.

No. No, no, no, no.

I told my mom she had to write me a letter on my mission when Downton started up again just to tell me if he really was dead. I needed at least that much closure before not seeing these beloved characters for 18 months.

But then my internet-savvy sister showed me this interview, and The Oregonian started printing reviews and interviews too. 

The writers aren't cruel people after all. Dan Stevens (he plays Matthew) is done. He didn't want to renew his contract with Downton. 

Okay. Fine. I can accept that he has a right to his life. I guess. 

But I'm going to miss Matthew so, SO much. I love him. 

But I can accept characters dying when it's because the actors were through. Apparently that's why Sybil died too. And also O'Brien is out. 

But I'm fine with that last one.

Sigh. I love these characters. I have a friend who I discuss Downton with (I call him my "Downton Friend") via FB. He is a sneaky mom and watched season 3 before it aired in the U.S. I feel like because of this he has a broader and better perspective and I sort of take his thoughts on Downton as truths. But we were both sad over Matthew's tragic death. 

At least I had someone to rant and mourn with. 

And my FB friends know me so well. This showed up on my wall:

And of course I posted it on Downton Friend's wall.

Basically I love Downton. It is a fantastic show. I'll miss it while I'm in Georgia.



Also I love crossovers. Enjoy Downton's version of 1D's What Makes You Beautiful:

Flabbergasted.