Posted by Elise
It’s funny how people outside of my family have different traditions than we do back home. Conference is a good example. I always assumed that everyone plays conference bingo, runs around the house during the intermediate hymn, draws pictures to describe the speaker’s topic, gets a candy every time they hear the word “faith,” plays kickball in-between Saturday sessions, excitedly anticipates the “Isn’t it about time?” commercials, and plays a wide range of games involving insane amounts of candy to keep all the kids awake and paying attention. Apparently this is not the case.
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
Lovely Dependency
Posted by Braden
My dad was in town the past few days, and he gave me cause to remember just how lovely being a dependent really is! We went shopping for mission stuff, and I didn't have to double-check the receipt after paying, because I neither paid with my card nor kept the receipt! We went out to lunch and dinner a few times . . . and I got free food! Normally, when making returns to stores, I have to head up the transaction. But not so—when we had to return a pair of shoes to the store, Dad took care of it! In everything we did, it was understood that Dad was kind of in charge of the situation, so I was able to just enjoy doing whatever we were doing! Being "independent" and "in control of my own life" is fun and all that, but it's really nice not having to be in charge every once in a while—or at least not having to be 100 percent responsible for my well-being. Pity that this feeling is going to be so rare in the rest of my life. . . .
My dad was in town the past few days, and he gave me cause to remember just how lovely being a dependent really is! We went shopping for mission stuff, and I didn't have to double-check the receipt after paying, because I neither paid with my card nor kept the receipt! We went out to lunch and dinner a few times . . . and I got free food! Normally, when making returns to stores, I have to head up the transaction. But not so—when we had to return a pair of shoes to the store, Dad took care of it! In everything we did, it was understood that Dad was kind of in charge of the situation, so I was able to just enjoy doing whatever we were doing! Being "independent" and "in control of my own life" is fun and all that, but it's really nice not having to be in charge every once in a while—or at least not having to be 100 percent responsible for my well-being. Pity that this feeling is going to be so rare in the rest of my life. . . .
Thursday, February 4, 2010
My Mission Call
Posted by Braden
It happened! It finally happened! My call came! It finally came! And I cannot stop smiling!
Before I say where I'm going and when, there are a few things you have to know:
1) My brother gets home from his mission in Taiwan on May 25. As soon as my brother and I were old enough to do the math, we figured that we might just barely miss each other between our two missions. We corresponded about availability dates throughout this past year, trying to figure out what would be perfect. I didn't want to have to wait too long to leave, but I wanted to see my brother. There are typically a few weeks between your availability date and your report date, but it's not always the same length of time.
Finally, we decided (via e-mail) that a May 14 availability date would be perfect. It was most likely that I wouldn't have to report for at least a few weeks after that, and we'd be able to see each other, but it wouldn't be too far into the summer. Then over Christmas break, when I was filling out my papers, I made a comment like, "I'm so anxious to go!" to which one of my parents replied, "Well, you are 19. You can set your availability date for whenever you want." And then I was like, "You know, why not? I'm dying to go soon. I'm setting my date for May 1, and if Travis and I don't get to see each other, I won't like it, but I'll survive."
I didn't mention the change in plans to him, but then he asked, so I had to tell him about the switch. I really considered moving the date back a week or so, closer to May 14—what's one more week before reporting compared to having the whole family together for one week in four years? But May 1 just felt right. I thought about it a lot, prayed about it a lot, and it just felt right, so I kept it.
2) Every pre-missionary responds to the inevitable question, "So where would you like to go on your mission?" at least once in his life with, "Wherever the Lord needs me." And it's true, that's where I wanted to go. But I suspect that every one of those boys and girls also thinks in his or her head at least once, "I'll go wherever, but wouldn't it be especially fun to go to _____."
Well, I had one of those places. For as long as I can remember, when people said, "I know that you're not supposed to pick favorites, but IF you did get to pick where you would like to go, what would you choose?" I always responded with this country. When my uncle came home from a mission to this country a number of years ago, I remember thinking, "Wow—that'd be perfect! I hope I go somewhere like that!" When everybody in my family wrote down where they thought I'd go, I secretly made my own guess, and it was this place.
This summer I found out that due to visa troubles, this mission was being closed to North American missionaries. I groaned just a little bit on the inside, but I knew that I was going to get called to wherever I was supposed to go anyway. Then last week, after my papers were already in, I heard from an RM that the mission had recently opened back up again to missionaries from North America.
I was so excited! I went home and sent my parents an email with the title, "______ is open again!" since they've always known that I have a sweet spot for it. "I don't expect to go there, of course," I told them, "but it is nice that it's an option again, at least!"
A week ago my key chain broke, so I told myself that I'd just buy a new one in a week or two of the flag of whatever country I'm going to (United States included). Two days ago, when I was in the Bookstore, I took a look at all the flags, and naturally my eyes searched first for this country's flag. After I found it, I mentally slapped my wrist for showing preference, and went on to my next class.
3) I asked anybody with mission-call experience about when they thought I should expect to receive mine. There were just too many opinions for me to know anything for sure, but I was pretty positive that my call would show up sometime in the middle of the week, most likely on a Wednesday. This past Wednesday, a boy who sent in his papers a week before me received his call. I figured that meant I still had at least a week to go, so I stopped thinking about it. Then this morning I found out from my grandparents, who have a contact in the Missionary Department, that my call was mailed out yesterday! All of my focus disappeared instantly.
I came home from classes at 1:30 p.m., hoping to find the call, but no. I went to the temple for an hour and a half and came back expecting to find my call, since our mail usually comes by 2:30 p.m., but no. The mail had come, but it wasn't there. I went to my 4 p.m. class, content to wait until tomorrow to begin checking compulsively again. I got two phone calls during class that I didn't answer; I checked my voice mail as soon as class ended, and one of the messages was from the Helaman Halls Central Building. They said they had my mission call there! I was rather confused, since I live in Heritage Halls, but they had my call and I wanted it!
Unfortunately, I was already on my way to meet up with somebody for dinner, and we were supposed to meet up in five minutes! I rushed to dinner; we ate and talked for about an hour. I had to fight so hard to keep myself from jumping up and sprinting to the central building. And then I got the letter; it was about 6 p.m. by this time.
I tried really hard not to look at the postage; I've heard varying stories on what it means, and I didn't want to speculate. I wanted to open my call with my ward, but I also needed to pick a time when all of my family back home could be on the phone, so I chose 8:30 p.m. I texted all the people whom I'd promised to tell when I got my letter and passed the word around the ward.
Then I tried, failing miserably, to study for my test tomorrow. I couldn't concentrate for more than maybe 30 seconds at a time. "Two hours left . . . 1.5 hours . . . 1.3 hours . . . 1.15 hours . . . 1.12 hours . . . 1.11 hours . . . is time moving at all?!"
Another boy in the ward was scheduled to open his call at 8 p.m. The ward showed up, and he read that he was going to Brazil, and his report date was May 24! That scared me a little: if he put his papers in on the same day as me, and he's reporting on May 24, odds are pretty good that I'll report on the same day, and I'll miss my brother by one day!"
The last 30 minutes were by far the longest. I went for a walk to burn the time. And then 8:30 p.m. finally came.
I called up my family back home, hushed everyone down, my sister started recording, and I opened up the letter:
Then everybody clapped and cheered and congratulated me and I couldn't do anything but smile, thank them, smile, reread the letter, smile, and find where Samara is in Russia, and smile some more.
I'm not going to get any more studying done tonight. All I want to do is look up Russia, Samara, the Russian language, my application for a U.S. passport, my mission boundaries, stories from people who went to my mission, the list of supplies I'm going to need, etc. WOW, what a rush! It turns out that it is the exact same mission where my uncle went! I can't wait to hear stories, see pictures, and start learning all about where I'm going to be living and serving for the next two years!
I know that I would have been thrilled no matter where I was called. It's still so amazing to me that we 19-year-old boys are allowed to be called to such important roles in the grand scheme of everything! And I cannot wait to share the gospel with all of the good people in Russia! It's made me so happy! If I can just help them see how much they have to gain, how much easier and happier their lives will be with the gospel, they'll know that it's worth it. And even if you told me that not a single person I talk to will join the Church in all 24 months that I'm there, I'd still go in a heartbeat! This is going to be a wonderful two years!
And wow—to be called to the place I've always wanted to go AND see my brother before I leave AND not have to wait any longer to get my call—I'm certainly on cloud nine right now, and I'm not coming down anytime soon!
It happened! It finally happened! My call came! It finally came! And I cannot stop smiling!
Before I say where I'm going and when, there are a few things you have to know:
1) My brother gets home from his mission in Taiwan on May 25. As soon as my brother and I were old enough to do the math, we figured that we might just barely miss each other between our two missions. We corresponded about availability dates throughout this past year, trying to figure out what would be perfect. I didn't want to have to wait too long to leave, but I wanted to see my brother. There are typically a few weeks between your availability date and your report date, but it's not always the same length of time.
Finally, we decided (via e-mail) that a May 14 availability date would be perfect. It was most likely that I wouldn't have to report for at least a few weeks after that, and we'd be able to see each other, but it wouldn't be too far into the summer. Then over Christmas break, when I was filling out my papers, I made a comment like, "I'm so anxious to go!" to which one of my parents replied, "Well, you are 19. You can set your availability date for whenever you want." And then I was like, "You know, why not? I'm dying to go soon. I'm setting my date for May 1, and if Travis and I don't get to see each other, I won't like it, but I'll survive."
I didn't mention the change in plans to him, but then he asked, so I had to tell him about the switch. I really considered moving the date back a week or so, closer to May 14—what's one more week before reporting compared to having the whole family together for one week in four years? But May 1 just felt right. I thought about it a lot, prayed about it a lot, and it just felt right, so I kept it.
2) Every pre-missionary responds to the inevitable question, "So where would you like to go on your mission?" at least once in his life with, "Wherever the Lord needs me." And it's true, that's where I wanted to go. But I suspect that every one of those boys and girls also thinks in his or her head at least once, "I'll go wherever, but wouldn't it be especially fun to go to _____."
Well, I had one of those places. For as long as I can remember, when people said, "I know that you're not supposed to pick favorites, but IF you did get to pick where you would like to go, what would you choose?" I always responded with this country. When my uncle came home from a mission to this country a number of years ago, I remember thinking, "Wow—that'd be perfect! I hope I go somewhere like that!" When everybody in my family wrote down where they thought I'd go, I secretly made my own guess, and it was this place.
This summer I found out that due to visa troubles, this mission was being closed to North American missionaries. I groaned just a little bit on the inside, but I knew that I was going to get called to wherever I was supposed to go anyway. Then last week, after my papers were already in, I heard from an RM that the mission had recently opened back up again to missionaries from North America.
I was so excited! I went home and sent my parents an email with the title, "______ is open again!" since they've always known that I have a sweet spot for it. "I don't expect to go there, of course," I told them, "but it is nice that it's an option again, at least!"
A week ago my key chain broke, so I told myself that I'd just buy a new one in a week or two of the flag of whatever country I'm going to (United States included). Two days ago, when I was in the Bookstore, I took a look at all the flags, and naturally my eyes searched first for this country's flag. After I found it, I mentally slapped my wrist for showing preference, and went on to my next class.
3) I asked anybody with mission-call experience about when they thought I should expect to receive mine. There were just too many opinions for me to know anything for sure, but I was pretty positive that my call would show up sometime in the middle of the week, most likely on a Wednesday. This past Wednesday, a boy who sent in his papers a week before me received his call. I figured that meant I still had at least a week to go, so I stopped thinking about it. Then this morning I found out from my grandparents, who have a contact in the Missionary Department, that my call was mailed out yesterday! All of my focus disappeared instantly.
I came home from classes at 1:30 p.m., hoping to find the call, but no. I went to the temple for an hour and a half and came back expecting to find my call, since our mail usually comes by 2:30 p.m., but no. The mail had come, but it wasn't there. I went to my 4 p.m. class, content to wait until tomorrow to begin checking compulsively again. I got two phone calls during class that I didn't answer; I checked my voice mail as soon as class ended, and one of the messages was from the Helaman Halls Central Building. They said they had my mission call there! I was rather confused, since I live in Heritage Halls, but they had my call and I wanted it!
Unfortunately, I was already on my way to meet up with somebody for dinner, and we were supposed to meet up in five minutes! I rushed to dinner; we ate and talked for about an hour. I had to fight so hard to keep myself from jumping up and sprinting to the central building. And then I got the letter; it was about 6 p.m. by this time.
I tried really hard not to look at the postage; I've heard varying stories on what it means, and I didn't want to speculate. I wanted to open my call with my ward, but I also needed to pick a time when all of my family back home could be on the phone, so I chose 8:30 p.m. I texted all the people whom I'd promised to tell when I got my letter and passed the word around the ward.
Then I tried, failing miserably, to study for my test tomorrow. I couldn't concentrate for more than maybe 30 seconds at a time. "Two hours left . . . 1.5 hours . . . 1.3 hours . . . 1.15 hours . . . 1.12 hours . . . 1.11 hours . . . is time moving at all?!"
Another boy in the ward was scheduled to open his call at 8 p.m. The ward showed up, and he read that he was going to Brazil, and his report date was May 24! That scared me a little: if he put his papers in on the same day as me, and he's reporting on May 24, odds are pretty good that I'll report on the same day, and I'll miss my brother by one day!"
The last 30 minutes were by far the longest. I went for a walk to burn the time. And then 8:30 p.m. finally came.
I called up my family back home, hushed everyone down, my sister started recording, and I opened up the letter:
- Dear Elder Hancock:
You are hereby called to serve as a missionary of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. You are assigned to labor in the RUSSIA SAMARA mission!
(my thoughts: "I CAN'T BELIEVE I ACTUALLY GOT CALLED TO RUSSIA!")
You should report to the Missionary Training Center at Provo, Utah on Wednesday, 3 June 2009!
("I can't believe that I'm going to Russia, AND I get to see Travis before I leave!")
Then everybody clapped and cheered and congratulated me and I couldn't do anything but smile, thank them, smile, reread the letter, smile, and find where Samara is in Russia, and smile some more.
I'm not going to get any more studying done tonight. All I want to do is look up Russia, Samara, the Russian language, my application for a U.S. passport, my mission boundaries, stories from people who went to my mission, the list of supplies I'm going to need, etc. WOW, what a rush! It turns out that it is the exact same mission where my uncle went! I can't wait to hear stories, see pictures, and start learning all about where I'm going to be living and serving for the next two years!
I know that I would have been thrilled no matter where I was called. It's still so amazing to me that we 19-year-old boys are allowed to be called to such important roles in the grand scheme of everything! And I cannot wait to share the gospel with all of the good people in Russia! It's made me so happy! If I can just help them see how much they have to gain, how much easier and happier their lives will be with the gospel, they'll know that it's worth it. And even if you told me that not a single person I talk to will join the Church in all 24 months that I'm there, I'd still go in a heartbeat! This is going to be a wonderful two years!
And wow—to be called to the place I've always wanted to go AND see my brother before I leave AND not have to wait any longer to get my call—I'm certainly on cloud nine right now, and I'm not coming down anytime soon!
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Gifts of a Lifetime
Posted by Laura
For the past five or so Christmases, my mom has been trying to stock me up with goods for college. She throws in a couple things that every college student needs. I have to admit, when opening those presents over the years, I always said, "Thank you," and acted excited, but in my head I'd think, “Why the heck did my mom go through all this effort to give me something that I will never use?”
Yet those college days have arrived, and I am so grateful for all of those gifts! They have made my life and college experience so much easier. This year, when I opened a cookbook and a casserole dish, I thought, “Alright, maybe this book will teach me how to not start the ward-dessert-night cookies on fire.” Or when I opened the school supplies, I knew exactly how to put them to use and how needed they were.
Even though these aren’t the kind of presents you can open up and play with all day, they are practical, and instead of just playing with them and then laying them on the shelf, I know that I will actually use them throughout my college years and beyond. I have finally reached that point in life where I can start using all of my Christmas gifts over the years.
My Christmas has been wonderful this year. I love the holiday season and all of the traditions that come along with it. I have enjoyed having a little break from school and being surrounded by my family and friends.
For the past five or so Christmases, my mom has been trying to stock me up with goods for college. She throws in a couple things that every college student needs. I have to admit, when opening those presents over the years, I always said, "Thank you," and acted excited, but in my head I'd think, “Why the heck did my mom go through all this effort to give me something that I will never use?”
Yet those college days have arrived, and I am so grateful for all of those gifts! They have made my life and college experience so much easier. This year, when I opened a cookbook and a casserole dish, I thought, “Alright, maybe this book will teach me how to not start the ward-dessert-night cookies on fire.” Or when I opened the school supplies, I knew exactly how to put them to use and how needed they were.
Even though these aren’t the kind of presents you can open up and play with all day, they are practical, and instead of just playing with them and then laying them on the shelf, I know that I will actually use them throughout my college years and beyond. I have finally reached that point in life where I can start using all of my Christmas gifts over the years.
My Christmas has been wonderful this year. I love the holiday season and all of the traditions that come along with it. I have enjoyed having a little break from school and being surrounded by my family and friends.
Monday, December 28, 2009
The Last Christmas
Posted by Braden
So it finally came--my last Christmas before my mission. My newlywed sister and missionary brother were both away from home this year, and next year when I'm gone, they'll both be home for Christmas.
I always expected that last Christmas before my mission to be particularly mission-based as far as presents go: luggage, suits, Church books, a new scripture case. And I did get a little of that, but not nearly to the degree I expected. Surprisingly, I found myself asking Santa for a lot of kitchen supplies this year: a George Foreman Grill, wooden spoons, spatulas, silverware, a can opener, a muffin tin, etc. And I was excited about each and every one of those presents! I don't need toys or games anymore (though having a few is still nice)--I need house stuff!
On Christmas evening we got our phone call with my older brother in Taiwan. We got one hour of time, exactly. This was our second year making the call, and it won't be our last! Between seven boys, my family is going to be having a lot of "everybody-get-around-the-speakerphone-at-the-table" hours over the years. It's just odd to think that exactly one year from now, it is going to find me on the other side of that phone call! So soon? But Travis just left! But I just graduated! But I'm only 19! But . . . wow, that's soon. Fortunately, I've got a lot of Christmases left in my life to spare.
So it finally came--my last Christmas before my mission. My newlywed sister and missionary brother were both away from home this year, and next year when I'm gone, they'll both be home for Christmas.
I always expected that last Christmas before my mission to be particularly mission-based as far as presents go: luggage, suits, Church books, a new scripture case. And I did get a little of that, but not nearly to the degree I expected. Surprisingly, I found myself asking Santa for a lot of kitchen supplies this year: a George Foreman Grill, wooden spoons, spatulas, silverware, a can opener, a muffin tin, etc. And I was excited about each and every one of those presents! I don't need toys or games anymore (though having a few is still nice)--I need house stuff!
On Christmas evening we got our phone call with my older brother in Taiwan. We got one hour of time, exactly. This was our second year making the call, and it won't be our last! Between seven boys, my family is going to be having a lot of "everybody-get-around-the-speakerphone-at-the-table" hours over the years. It's just odd to think that exactly one year from now, it is going to find me on the other side of that phone call! So soon? But Travis just left! But I just graduated! But I'm only 19! But . . . wow, that's soon. Fortunately, I've got a lot of Christmases left in my life to spare.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
I'll Be Home for Christmas . . . Maybe
Posted by Braden
When I bought my plane ticket for Christmas break, the semester was just starting. I saw that my religion final was scheduled for the Friday of finals week, and it being my first round of finals, I figured I didn't want to try any funny business, like trying to take the final earlier. So I got my ticket for Saturday morning.
A couple of weeks later I found out that we were taking our Book of Mormon final the week before that; our instructor didn't want to make any of us have to stay all the way through Friday to take our exams. Oops. In the end, I figured having the whole week to take finals would still be nice, so I left my ticket as it was.
Finals time came around, and I couldn't find anybody (or any bus routes) going to the airport early enough on Saturday morning in time for me to catch my flight, so I decided to ride up with my roommate on Friday night and spend the night in the airport.
Around 3 p.m. that day, an hour before we were going to leave for the airport, it started snowing hard--the fluffy, nasty stuff that makes roads terrible. My roommate's mother insisted on getting a taxi for us instead of letting her son drive and on not letting us pay at all for it, so we took the two-hour drive up to the airport in the taxi (everyone on the highway was traveling 35 mph).
My uncle, who lived nearby, heard about my flight plans from my mother and swung by and picked me up so I could spend the night at his house. Hearing that I hadn't had a large burrito in a long time, he even swung by Chipotle and bought me one (it was SO good). To make myself less of an inconvenience that night, I babysat my aunt and uncle's kids while they went Christmas shopping, then helped my uncle assemble a big wooden playhouse in his basement.
The next morning he drove me to the airport in time to catch my flight, which was overbooked. They were offering free roundtrip vouchers for anyone willing to give up their seat. Flights home at Christmas are approximately $500, so I was tempted. What's a few hours compared to a few hundred dollars? Those would be some of the best-paying hours of my life! Unfortunately, the soonest they'd be able to get me home was the next day, a little over 24 hours later than I'd originally planned. I was obviously already anxious to be home, but when I confirmed that they would pay for a hotel for the night and a meal, I took them up on their offer and volunteered to be bumped.
One day for $500? That can pay for one of my college sibling's flights home next year, so it's worth it. I spent the rest of the day in my hotel room--taking a nap; reading a book; watching a movie; eating my $15 meal, paid for by the voucher; watching the Las Vegas Bowl. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't family. I survived.
The next day, there were obviously delays in the airports from all of the weather-related bumpings, but I showed up at the Dayton airport around 8 p.m. with four little boys waiting just across the security line to run up and hug me as soon as I was in reach.
And now I'm home, and it's wonderful.
When I bought my plane ticket for Christmas break, the semester was just starting. I saw that my religion final was scheduled for the Friday of finals week, and it being my first round of finals, I figured I didn't want to try any funny business, like trying to take the final earlier. So I got my ticket for Saturday morning.
A couple of weeks later I found out that we were taking our Book of Mormon final the week before that; our instructor didn't want to make any of us have to stay all the way through Friday to take our exams. Oops. In the end, I figured having the whole week to take finals would still be nice, so I left my ticket as it was.
Finals time came around, and I couldn't find anybody (or any bus routes) going to the airport early enough on Saturday morning in time for me to catch my flight, so I decided to ride up with my roommate on Friday night and spend the night in the airport.
Around 3 p.m. that day, an hour before we were going to leave for the airport, it started snowing hard--the fluffy, nasty stuff that makes roads terrible. My roommate's mother insisted on getting a taxi for us instead of letting her son drive and on not letting us pay at all for it, so we took the two-hour drive up to the airport in the taxi (everyone on the highway was traveling 35 mph).
My uncle, who lived nearby, heard about my flight plans from my mother and swung by and picked me up so I could spend the night at his house. Hearing that I hadn't had a large burrito in a long time, he even swung by Chipotle and bought me one (it was SO good). To make myself less of an inconvenience that night, I babysat my aunt and uncle's kids while they went Christmas shopping, then helped my uncle assemble a big wooden playhouse in his basement.
The next morning he drove me to the airport in time to catch my flight, which was overbooked. They were offering free roundtrip vouchers for anyone willing to give up their seat. Flights home at Christmas are approximately $500, so I was tempted. What's a few hours compared to a few hundred dollars? Those would be some of the best-paying hours of my life! Unfortunately, the soonest they'd be able to get me home was the next day, a little over 24 hours later than I'd originally planned. I was obviously already anxious to be home, but when I confirmed that they would pay for a hotel for the night and a meal, I took them up on their offer and volunteered to be bumped.
One day for $500? That can pay for one of my college sibling's flights home next year, so it's worth it. I spent the rest of the day in my hotel room--taking a nap; reading a book; watching a movie; eating my $15 meal, paid for by the voucher; watching the Las Vegas Bowl. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't family. I survived.
The next day, there were obviously delays in the airports from all of the weather-related bumpings, but I showed up at the Dayton airport around 8 p.m. with four little boys waiting just across the security line to run up and hug me as soon as I was in reach.
And now I'm home, and it's wonderful.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Holy Schniky It's Already Over
Posted by Adam
It's been over a month since I posted a blog, and lemme tell ya what, a WHOLE lot has happened. I don't even know where to begin... so how about Halloween!
Halloween ROCKED! I had a couple friends from home come down for the night. Mixed with some friends we have here, we made the Mystery Gang from Scooby Doo. It's amazing what you can actually find at Savers and pull together!
November seemed to fly by without my permission. I'm sure there was a bunch of fun stuff, but everything really pales in comparison to the big exciting news I got on Nov. 26. I know I planned to stay for the entire year, but the more I thought about it, the more I just couldn't wait.
I was lucky enough to submit my mission papers, and I had them sent to my home because that's where I was gonna be for Thanksgiving! I had been scheming to tell my family in a creative way.
I got the call Wednesday. I hid the envelope in my shirt and brought in the rest of the mail. My sister was standing by the door, and I gave her this disappointed look and said, “Well, hopefully it'll come Friday.”
Then I snuck outside, ran across the street to the baseball field bleachers, and opened the call. I had to read it about four times before I finally comprehended that I was going to the Italy Milan Mission. Then I stood up and screamed like a little school girl. It was pretty embarrassing. I looked over and saw my neighbors walking their dogs. They stopped and looked at me, but I don't think they realized who I was.
I report on April 1--yup, April Fools' Day--learning the Italian language. It totally blew me away, and it was harder to pretend like I didn't have it than I thought it would be. I acted casual, played the piano, but then eventually got too fidgety that I had to go do something. I called and told my roommate Mike. Then that night we had a big friend get together, and I announced it to about six people and called a couple others.
When I got home, my other sister had just gotten home. My mom asked us if we'd go pick up some milk and an onion before we went to bed. On the car ride there, I figured I would need an accomplice, so I told her where I was going and we devised a plan.
The next morning my sister called everyone over for a quick game of speed Scrabble. If you don’t know what speed Scrabble is, it's Scrabble with no board and everyone working on their own words. When someone uses all their letters they yell "go," and everyone draws a tile. It continues till the tiles are all gone.
During the second game, every time someone said, “go” I pulled out another tile from my back pocket. I eventually spelled, "I'm goin' to Italy" in tiles and then yelled, “ I win!”
Everyone was into their own game, and they looked at my discombobbled tiles, figured I was kidding, and went back to work on their own games. Then my sister said, “No! Adam won!” So they all kinda stopped and stared at the tiles. It took a good five seconds to register. Then Mom started screaming, along with everyone else. I had the call underneath the tablecloth, so I pulled it out and showed them. My mom kept saying, “You’re so mean! I don’t believe you.” Then she read the call and believed me finally.
So now I've got four months before I head into the MTC. I leave just three weeks before the winter semester would end, so I'm not able to attend school. But I'll be able to earn some good money.
It's sad that we usually don't notice our blessings till they're almost or all the way gone. I've been trying to do my best at enjoying my stay here at BYU and now that I'm near the end of the experience I just want more. It seems like I've done so much, but still not enough. I think back to the beginning of the semester and want so much to just experience it all again. It's been an entirely rewarding experience, one that I'll never forget!
It's been over a month since I posted a blog, and lemme tell ya what, a WHOLE lot has happened. I don't even know where to begin... so how about Halloween!
Halloween ROCKED! I had a couple friends from home come down for the night. Mixed with some friends we have here, we made the Mystery Gang from Scooby Doo. It's amazing what you can actually find at Savers and pull together!
November seemed to fly by without my permission. I'm sure there was a bunch of fun stuff, but everything really pales in comparison to the big exciting news I got on Nov. 26. I know I planned to stay for the entire year, but the more I thought about it, the more I just couldn't wait.
I was lucky enough to submit my mission papers, and I had them sent to my home because that's where I was gonna be for Thanksgiving! I had been scheming to tell my family in a creative way.
I got the call Wednesday. I hid the envelope in my shirt and brought in the rest of the mail. My sister was standing by the door, and I gave her this disappointed look and said, “Well, hopefully it'll come Friday.”
Then I snuck outside, ran across the street to the baseball field bleachers, and opened the call. I had to read it about four times before I finally comprehended that I was going to the Italy Milan Mission. Then I stood up and screamed like a little school girl. It was pretty embarrassing. I looked over and saw my neighbors walking their dogs. They stopped and looked at me, but I don't think they realized who I was.
I report on April 1--yup, April Fools' Day--learning the Italian language. It totally blew me away, and it was harder to pretend like I didn't have it than I thought it would be. I acted casual, played the piano, but then eventually got too fidgety that I had to go do something. I called and told my roommate Mike. Then that night we had a big friend get together, and I announced it to about six people and called a couple others.
When I got home, my other sister had just gotten home. My mom asked us if we'd go pick up some milk and an onion before we went to bed. On the car ride there, I figured I would need an accomplice, so I told her where I was going and we devised a plan.
The next morning my sister called everyone over for a quick game of speed Scrabble. If you don’t know what speed Scrabble is, it's Scrabble with no board and everyone working on their own words. When someone uses all their letters they yell "go," and everyone draws a tile. It continues till the tiles are all gone.
During the second game, every time someone said, “go” I pulled out another tile from my back pocket. I eventually spelled, "I'm goin' to Italy" in tiles and then yelled, “ I win!”
Everyone was into their own game, and they looked at my discombobbled tiles, figured I was kidding, and went back to work on their own games. Then my sister said, “No! Adam won!” So they all kinda stopped and stared at the tiles. It took a good five seconds to register. Then Mom started screaming, along with everyone else. I had the call underneath the tablecloth, so I pulled it out and showed them. My mom kept saying, “You’re so mean! I don’t believe you.” Then she read the call and believed me finally.
So now I've got four months before I head into the MTC. I leave just three weeks before the winter semester would end, so I'm not able to attend school. But I'll be able to earn some good money.
It's sad that we usually don't notice our blessings till they're almost or all the way gone. I've been trying to do my best at enjoying my stay here at BYU and now that I'm near the end of the experience I just want more. It seems like I've done so much, but still not enough. I think back to the beginning of the semester and want so much to just experience it all again. It's been an entirely rewarding experience, one that I'll never forget!
Friday, October 2, 2009
Issues
Posted by Sarah
Last weekend something really bad happened at home. My brother got hurt completely unnecessarily and I got a phone call Sunday after church telling me about it. I am one of the most protective people I know and I abhor not being able to help people when things like that happen. Even if the only thing I could do was give him a hug to make him feel better, I would have served my purpose but being 2,500 miles away, there's nothing I can do. I envy everyone who can get in a car and drive home for the weekend. I would willingly drive for hours to be able to see my family. I have enough money for a plane ticket, but my mom would kill me if I missed classes, and going back for just the weekend would only make me feel worse. So I'm stuck between the infamous rock and hard place.
Not to mention the fact that I did horribly on all my tests this week. The math involved in the major I chose is way too difficult, so I think I'm going to end up changing majors here pretty quick. I'm thinking maybe art history.
Last weekend something really bad happened at home. My brother got hurt completely unnecessarily and I got a phone call Sunday after church telling me about it. I am one of the most protective people I know and I abhor not being able to help people when things like that happen. Even if the only thing I could do was give him a hug to make him feel better, I would have served my purpose but being 2,500 miles away, there's nothing I can do. I envy everyone who can get in a car and drive home for the weekend. I would willingly drive for hours to be able to see my family. I have enough money for a plane ticket, but my mom would kill me if I missed classes, and going back for just the weekend would only make me feel worse. So I'm stuck between the infamous rock and hard place.
Not to mention the fact that I did horribly on all my tests this week. The math involved in the major I chose is way too difficult, so I think I'm going to end up changing majors here pretty quick. I'm thinking maybe art history.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
My Conversion Story
Posted by Ashley
In my last post, I mentioned my experience with seminary and how it played into my conversion. So here is the short version of my story.
My parents are both converts and became inactive when I was little. I would go to church every once in a while. I did go to girls camp every year though. That is where I met some of my best friends. When we started high school my friends would bug me everyday at lunch about going to seminary. Why would I want to go to a church class at 6 a.m.?
One day, about three weeks into school, they made a deal with me—to go to seminary the rest of the week. As it was Wednesday, I figured I could handle going for only two days. So I went and enjoyed it, even though I was confused since I rarely went to church. Monday rolled around and I got up to go to seminary. I continued to go every day.
My mom and I started going back to church; and then about three months later we asked for the missionaries to come give our family the discussions. So then I was baptized in February of 2005. I had gone to seminary every day and my teacher had no idea that I wasn't a member, neither did many of my church friends. Let's see . . . my dad went to church the day of my confirmation (that was the first time I remember him going to church) and he has continued to go ever since. And my sister who is only 17 months younger than me was baptized a year later.
In my last post, I mentioned my experience with seminary and how it played into my conversion. So here is the short version of my story.
My parents are both converts and became inactive when I was little. I would go to church every once in a while. I did go to girls camp every year though. That is where I met some of my best friends. When we started high school my friends would bug me everyday at lunch about going to seminary. Why would I want to go to a church class at 6 a.m.?
One day, about three weeks into school, they made a deal with me—to go to seminary the rest of the week. As it was Wednesday, I figured I could handle going for only two days. So I went and enjoyed it, even though I was confused since I rarely went to church. Monday rolled around and I got up to go to seminary. I continued to go every day.
My mom and I started going back to church; and then about three months later we asked for the missionaries to come give our family the discussions. So then I was baptized in February of 2005. I had gone to seminary every day and my teacher had no idea that I wasn't a member, neither did many of my church friends. Let's see . . . my dad went to church the day of my confirmation (that was the first time I remember him going to church) and he has continued to go ever since. And my sister who is only 17 months younger than me was baptized a year later.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Three Generations of Cougars
Posted by Laura
Last weekend was so fun! How could a BYU football game get any better? We completely dominated, smeared, demolished UCLA, and man, was it sweet to watch. What made it even more sweet was that my mom and grandma got to come watch it with me and my sister; it was a three generation event.
After the game, I was able to walk around with my mom and grandma and they were able to tell me some of their experiences at BYU. I never knew that my grandma still has get-togethers with her roommates from BYU or that she was on the newspaper organization kind of like our Daily Universe but it was called The Press back then. It was really neat hearing all of their stories and knowing that I am creating those memories that I will look back on, today.
I have loved my ward! Everyone is so friendly and outgoing. This Sunday at church, I was called to be the publicity coordinator. I am not too computer savvy, but I am still so excited to start. After church, my roommates pulled out the ice cream. Literally. When they scooped it, it came right out of the box and was just a big cube of ice cream. So we decided to do what any normal person would do and sculpted it, into a bus. Nobody wanted to ruin this art so it is on the plate in our freezer, firming up.
Note: Like other posts on The First Year blog, this post was written in 2008 and discusses events (the BYU-UCLA football game) that happened a year ago.
Last weekend was so fun! How could a BYU football game get any better? We completely dominated, smeared, demolished UCLA, and man, was it sweet to watch. What made it even more sweet was that my mom and grandma got to come watch it with me and my sister; it was a three generation event.
After the game, I was able to walk around with my mom and grandma and they were able to tell me some of their experiences at BYU. I never knew that my grandma still has get-togethers with her roommates from BYU or that she was on the newspaper organization kind of like our Daily Universe but it was called The Press back then. It was really neat hearing all of their stories and knowing that I am creating those memories that I will look back on, today.
I have loved my ward! Everyone is so friendly and outgoing. This Sunday at church, I was called to be the publicity coordinator. I am not too computer savvy, but I am still so excited to start. After church, my roommates pulled out the ice cream. Literally. When they scooped it, it came right out of the box and was just a big cube of ice cream. So we decided to do what any normal person would do and sculpted it, into a bus. Nobody wanted to ruin this art so it is on the plate in our freezer, firming up.
Note: Like other posts on The First Year blog, this post was written in 2008 and discusses events (the BYU-UCLA football game) that happened a year ago.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Yin Yang
Posted by Braden
No men's chorus for Braden this semester. :-( At callbacks, Sister Hall had each of us sing one by one in groups of 10, say who she wanted to stay, and let everybody else go. Then she had the people who had already sung once do it again and let more go. This continued until there were four of us left. I ended up singing for her five times! Every time, I thought I did really well (by my own standards), and she never gave me anything to try to correct like she did with some people, such as "a little brighter," or "taller vowels," or "you're a little sharp," etc.; so I never got any feedback as to what she didn't like. But there's a blessing in all of this too:
I was feeling really stressed out the other day. With a schedule of 17.5 credits, and weekly volunteering at the Bean museum, and whatever calling I end up with, and there are so many individual projects and assignments for each class to keep track of and at least 2 big term papers/projects that I know of, and home teaching, and scholarship applications, and monthly blogging/interviews, and—and I was just feeling really beat time-wise; didn't know how in the world I would be able to find the time to play or go on dates, etc. And now I suddenly find myself with 5 extra hours every week for the rest of the school year. :) And more than that, because that hour was isolated from other classes on three of the days, I don't have to waste the transition time. And the extra practices. And the days of missing school. And don't get me wrong, I really would have loved to be in it, but I'm happier if I believe now that the pros outweigh the cons. And all these pros really are real pros, too. I'm not just making them up.
Of course, one con is that now my parents have no excuse to come out and see me perform like they did for my two older siblings; it's kind of tradition that they come out freshmen year to see us performing in whatever group we're in. But Involv-A-Palooza has been going on in Brigham Square these past two days, and I've signed up for a bunch of clubs/activities and written down a lot of important dates. And on Friday when I would have been at men's chorus, instead I played volleyball for two hours, and it was wonderful. And I spent Thursday getting all of my assignments and exam dates and requirements for my classes down on two sheets of paper, so I'm feeling more settled. And Friday night I watched my sister Camille get proposed to on stage! And Thursday night after tryouts, Cory cooked some steaks for him and me! (Cory tried out, too, in second tenor, and he went through four rounds of callbacks, and he didn't make it either. He's a good guy; last night my five roomies and I just talked for about an hour in my room. That was fun). And we've started doing ward activities now so I'm getting to know more people, and know them better.
The main bummer in all of this is not so much not being in men's chorus, but rather, not making it. And singing is so much more personal than playing an instrument; bad noises out of a trumpet are because you can't play trumpet—it's the trumpet's fault for making bad noises. Bad noises out of your voice—that's all you. So there's a hint of a doubt now, to always have that voice in the back of my head wondering if I've ever been able to sing well, etc. Fortunately, I'm not fragile enough to accept those doubts; I've had enough positive experiences/reinforcements that one bad one isn't shakin' me. But it's a bummer being told you're not talented enough for something. I have more empathy now for people who haven't been as fortunate as I have in making groups and earning awards. Some of it is how much work you put into it, mind you, and I haven't invested the time in choir like a lot of these boys have, and maybe that lack of technique was the very cause that kept me out. But I'm sure there are some people who can't realistically practice enough to reach their dreams. No 5' 4" kid is ever going to be in the NBA, through no fault of his own. But you adjust—make dreams that are more realistic for yourself, as terrible as that sounds. Personally, men's chorus is still very much do-able; I was obviously close, and I wrote Sister Hall to see if she can't look in her notes to tell me what to work on for the next audition. I'll have to see a semester from now or two years from now if I still want to do it, and then if I make it, but maybe I'll find something more up my alley before then anyway. And until then, I'll find useful things to do with my five extra hours, including the roughly three hours a week of exercise for my new health class. My singing is already acceptable to me. My exercise habits are not. Better to fix the more broken skill, I figure.
No men's chorus for Braden this semester. :-( At callbacks, Sister Hall had each of us sing one by one in groups of 10, say who she wanted to stay, and let everybody else go. Then she had the people who had already sung once do it again and let more go. This continued until there were four of us left. I ended up singing for her five times! Every time, I thought I did really well (by my own standards), and she never gave me anything to try to correct like she did with some people, such as "a little brighter," or "taller vowels," or "you're a little sharp," etc.; so I never got any feedback as to what she didn't like. But there's a blessing in all of this too:
I was feeling really stressed out the other day. With a schedule of 17.5 credits, and weekly volunteering at the Bean museum, and whatever calling I end up with, and there are so many individual projects and assignments for each class to keep track of and at least 2 big term papers/projects that I know of, and home teaching, and scholarship applications, and monthly blogging/interviews, and—and I was just feeling really beat time-wise; didn't know how in the world I would be able to find the time to play or go on dates, etc. And now I suddenly find myself with 5 extra hours every week for the rest of the school year. :) And more than that, because that hour was isolated from other classes on three of the days, I don't have to waste the transition time. And the extra practices. And the days of missing school. And don't get me wrong, I really would have loved to be in it, but I'm happier if I believe now that the pros outweigh the cons. And all these pros really are real pros, too. I'm not just making them up.
Of course, one con is that now my parents have no excuse to come out and see me perform like they did for my two older siblings; it's kind of tradition that they come out freshmen year to see us performing in whatever group we're in. But Involv-A-Palooza has been going on in Brigham Square these past two days, and I've signed up for a bunch of clubs/activities and written down a lot of important dates. And on Friday when I would have been at men's chorus, instead I played volleyball for two hours, and it was wonderful. And I spent Thursday getting all of my assignments and exam dates and requirements for my classes down on two sheets of paper, so I'm feeling more settled. And Friday night I watched my sister Camille get proposed to on stage! And Thursday night after tryouts, Cory cooked some steaks for him and me! (Cory tried out, too, in second tenor, and he went through four rounds of callbacks, and he didn't make it either. He's a good guy; last night my five roomies and I just talked for about an hour in my room. That was fun). And we've started doing ward activities now so I'm getting to know more people, and know them better.
The main bummer in all of this is not so much not being in men's chorus, but rather, not making it. And singing is so much more personal than playing an instrument; bad noises out of a trumpet are because you can't play trumpet—it's the trumpet's fault for making bad noises. Bad noises out of your voice—that's all you. So there's a hint of a doubt now, to always have that voice in the back of my head wondering if I've ever been able to sing well, etc. Fortunately, I'm not fragile enough to accept those doubts; I've had enough positive experiences/reinforcements that one bad one isn't shakin' me. But it's a bummer being told you're not talented enough for something. I have more empathy now for people who haven't been as fortunate as I have in making groups and earning awards. Some of it is how much work you put into it, mind you, and I haven't invested the time in choir like a lot of these boys have, and maybe that lack of technique was the very cause that kept me out. But I'm sure there are some people who can't realistically practice enough to reach their dreams. No 5' 4" kid is ever going to be in the NBA, through no fault of his own. But you adjust—make dreams that are more realistic for yourself, as terrible as that sounds. Personally, men's chorus is still very much do-able; I was obviously close, and I wrote Sister Hall to see if she can't look in her notes to tell me what to work on for the next audition. I'll have to see a semester from now or two years from now if I still want to do it, and then if I make it, but maybe I'll find something more up my alley before then anyway. And until then, I'll find useful things to do with my five extra hours, including the roughly three hours a week of exercise for my new health class. My singing is already acceptable to me. My exercise habits are not. Better to fix the more broken skill, I figure.
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