I Failed...
Sixty-three years ago, while serving as a missionary in the British Isles, my companion and I taught, and it was my pleasure to baptize, a young man. He was well educated. He was refined. He was studious. I was so proud of this gifted young man who had come into the Church. I felt he had all of the qualifications someday to become a leader among our people.
He was in the course of making the big adjustment from convert to member. For a short period before I was released, mine was the opportunity to be his friend. Then I was released to return home. He was given a small responsibility in the branch in London. He knew nothing of what was expected of him. He made a mistake. The head of the organization where he served was a man I can best describe as being short on love and strong on criticism. In a rather unmerciful way, he went after my friend who had made the simple mistake.
The young man left our rented hall that night smarting and hurt by his superior officer. He said to himself, “If that is the kind of people they are, then I am not going back.”
He drifted into inactivity. The years passed. The war came on, and he served in the British forces. His first wife died. After the war he married a woman whose father was a Protestant minister. That did not help his belief.
When I was in England, I tried desperately to find him. His file contained no record of a current address. I came home and finally, after a long search, was able to track him down.
I wrote to him. He responded but with no mention of the gospel.
When next I was in London, I again searched for him. The day I was to leave, I found him. I called him, and we met in the underground station. He threw his arms around me as I did around him. I had very little time before I had to catch my plane, but we talked briefly and with what I think was a true regard for one another. He gave me another embrace before I left. I determined that I would never lose track of him again. Through the years I wrote to him, letters that I hoped would give encouragement and incentive to return to the Church. He wrote in reply without mentioning the Church.
The years passed. I grew older as did he. He retired from his work and moved to Switzerland. On one occasion when I was in Switzerland, I went out of my way to find the village where he lived. We spent the better part of a day together—he, his wife, my wife, and myself. We had a wonderful time, but it was evident that the fire of faith had long since died. I tried every way I knew, but I could not find a way to rekindle it. I continued my correspondence. I sent him books, magazines, recordings of the Tabernacle Choir, and other things for which he expressed appreciation.
He died a few months ago. His wife wrote me to inform me of this. She said, “You were the best friend he ever had.”
Tears coursed my cheeks when I read that letter. I knew I had failed. Perhaps if I had been there to pick him up when he was first knocked down, he might have made a different thing of his life. I think I could have helped him then. I think I could have dressed the wound from which he suffered. I have only one comfort: I tried. I have only one sorrow: I failed.
-Gordon B. Hinckley
One Eternal Round
I've decided that perfection is timeless. It has to be.
When Harry Met Sally
"When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."
-Thanks M.C.!!
Oh, Heath.
It's 6 a.m. and after ungodly consumption of chocolate-chunk-cookies-plus-rainbow-chip-icing, it's time for bed. Yay for bed! All I have left to say; 10 Things I Hate About You is the greatest teeny-bopper (but not really teeny-bopping) movie ever, hands down.
Hanging Out With The Girls
Jilly, Me, Heather, Jenny
Coffee in the evening... This is heaven.
I began packing my things today. True, I don't leave for another couple of weeks but with finals and all... It was rather sad. I was reminded of this poem, where a man removes every body part piece by piece in order to write an entirely raw composition. He leaves one body part on, only for a short while. My Dashboard drawing will be that body part of this room. It will remain where it is currently fixed till the life of the room (me) is gone. After all, who would be better company than Chris Carrabba? Speaking of Chris Carrabba; I fell madly in love with him... again. I suppose we had a bit of a falling out when I caught him and his Hands Down on the mother-of-all-corporate radio stations. Needless to say, I have since stumbled across a little story called the So Impossible EP (my initial conversion factor) and have forgiven him for all of his past shortcomings. The rest is history. I've decided that his currency-driven-judgment to whore himself on the mainstream doesn't change the fact that he was once beyond-wonderful.
Epiphany of the Day
Love exists when neither counterpart notices the ticking clock.
Fireflies
Why can't I be the girl who says, "I don't want a boyfriend, I just wanna make out." "I want a boyfriend who has a car, because I've got neeeeds."
A GREAT song...
If you find yourself here
On my side of town
I pray that you'd come to my door
And talk to me
Like you don't know
What we ever fought about
I don't remember anymore
I just know that she warms my heart
And knows what all my imperfections are
And she said that I was the brightest
Little firefly in her jar
And I just know that she warms my heart
And knows what all my imperfections are
And she says that I am the brightest
Little firefly in her jar
...something important is about to be said. I just need to stop playing and find time to write it out. But stayed tuned.
I HEART BYU
This is perfection...and I have to leave it all for hell on Earth in less than a month. Life isn't fair.
Packages
I headed to the MORC in search of a distraction. I hit up our mailbox...an ever lacking source of entertainment. But I was there and it was there, so why not. Lo and behold a golden slip of perfection! I dinged the bell at the counter and offered my soul in exchange for the amber opportunity in p.o. box 521. UNFORTUNATELY…I’m flippin color blind. The paper was an orange flyer…fool’s gold! I left wholly disappointed …no treasured package for me, at least not today. I’d like to think my life is hardly manipulated by the postal service, but that’d be a lie. Every college student longs for a shoebox of home. Cardboard has never been as huggable as it is at the mail center. Still embracing, you leave with a gait owned by the likes of J.Lo or Madonna. It’s truly a wondrous thing.
My favorite parcel:
Charm’s Blow Pop Underwear from Butler University, Indianapolis, Indiana.
Song of the Day:
Name by Goo Goo Dolls
Hmm...
Rachel and her waterfall...oh dear.
Rachel and Melissa on "Large Bodies of Water":
"Wow! I'd love to swim in HIS lake!!"
"Get me a life-preserver!!"
"We need scuba gear. He's going to be down there for awhile!"
It's a cubicle life.
Right now I’m in the Santa Baby with my best friend; cruising the Lloyd Expressway, windows down. Screaming, “She wants to go hooooooooooooooooooooome, but nobody’s home.” NOT writing a term paper. Bleck.
Love, Baby, Love
Me, Tara, Brittany, Brandon, Natalie, Bryana, Kevin, Hunter
5 cardboard boxes strapped to the roof of the Mazda later....
Thanks for the pic Kiddo. This memory almost slipped away.
The Church- What I Like Best
I couldn’t concentrate. Fallafuh’s were floating through the air, thick as oxygen. I wanted to scream, I feel suffocated by ignorance in these moments. Who desires knowledge of Hawaiian gibberish anyway? Not I. Out the door I went, hoping my abrupt exit would not offend my clap trapping roommate. I needed a river... a place to sit on the bench and read. But there are no rivers here, Ive already looked. So I settled for T-5 common’s room. At 1 a.m. I was shocked to find the room occupied. Most BYU kiddies are in bed at this hour. Nevertheless, there we were; just me, Elle, and Elle’s boyfriend (on the cell phone). I didn’t mind…at least she was speaking English.
I became engulfed in my reading (Doctrine and Covenants) for quite some while. I decided to take a much needed rest once I broke from doctrine and hit a history section. I couldn’t help but overhear Elle’s conversation. She was apparently reading the boy scriptures. I listened intently as questions were answered and ideas proposed. I went back to my own studies, but it was all pretend. Not one word of it could process in my head; I was too enthralled by that which was going down just 5 feet (and more so a thousand miles) away. I found myself in silent prayer. I wanted so much for this boy to soften his heart, to know the truth, to trust his loved one, to feel it. I wanted these things not for her, but for him. So that he may be blessed in ways that she has been…in ways that I have been.
"Sometimes we put up walls, not to block people out, but to see who cares enough to break them down."
Boo to California...and Virginia.
Oh, Fetch
Things that have happened since I last wrote…
Taught myself how to play Pachelbels Canon
Participated in a Mini-Mission (life without movies, music, and AIM) and decided I might go for the full out 1.5 year deal
Realized I’d be in Mt.Vernon, IN in less than 6 weeks only to be forced to stay there for more than 4 consecutive months. Yeah, I screamed at my sunroof…several times
Found my new favorite movie…this one is for keeps
Got the new Jack Johnson C.D.
Had a bazillion-teen-and-a-half crazy dreams
Semi-conquered my fear of heights
Created a new diet
Officially switched my major from Elementary Education to English
Went to bed before 1
Spotted FIVE license plates…you know the ones
Wow, so I’ve got a really interesting life. Cha. I hope no one is still reading this, sad day for you. I mean class is probably more entertaining. For those who ARE still reading… QUICK! The first thing that comes to your mind…the answer is yes. What is the question?
Song of the Day: Say It Ain't So
A C.L.A.S. act.
Click for more pics.
