Saturday, December 24, 2011

twenty dollars

    You know how people say some of the wisest words come from the smallest of children? I see that first hand everyday having 5 younger siblings in my home. There is something special about a pure, little, innocent child. I don't think anyone can deny that. But I also don't think it is fair to say that all older people have lost this purity and innocence. There are many good people in this world. It's just that, in all the hustle and bustle of life... 

    I think we sometimes forget what really matters. 

    I work at a retail store. Kohls Department Store. Expect Great Things. Have you heard of it? I don't think it is a secret that during the holidays retail gets hit hard with many busy shoppers, trying to find various gifts for loved ones and friends. I've spend most of my holiday so far in that store watching people open shoe boxes, try on shirts, pick out ornaments, stand in lines, and repeat. When all is said and done I have found some people can be very cranky and selfish. I've seen people snatch the last iHome that someone else was reaching for... I've seen my fellow employee's get yelled because they couldn't locate any more waffle makers in the back room... I've seen little children dragged by an angry mother to a store at 7am in there pajamas with sleepy eyes because some "early bird" sale on a pair of snow boots mattered more than a little resting head. 

    I have heard many conversations too. 

    A mother to a five year old boy, talking about the picture he drew to his older brother, standing by the towels: "Shut up Dallin, or else you will be grounded when you get home! Sometimes I can't stand you boys. We are not here for you. You are an embarrassment! QUIET."

    To an older lady standing in the line waiting to get checked out, "Can you move already? People like you are the reason this line is moving so slow.... *ugh!*."

    To a overwhelmed, run-down mother trying to get good deals on clothes for her many small children, "Mom I don't want those cheap clothes, why can't I ever get anything nice!?" 

    All the conversations I hear have a central theme: selfishness. People want what they want and they want it now. 

    Now, these are not bad people. I know that. They are stressed people, they are busy people, they are people who are spending more money than they probably should, and they are people who say things they don't mean to people they love.  

    But, one thing holds true above all others.

    They are all people who have forgotten what Christmas is all about. 

    After an especially hard day I work, I too was feeling a little bit selfish. I was hungry, tired, and wanted to go home and do what I wanted to do because I had "spent my whole day helping people and I was done". But as often happens, life doesn't always give us what we want. My mom mom picked me up and I found myself shipped off to do Christmas errands with her, to get even more hungry and tired than I was before. 
    I was sitting in the passengers seat hating life as I listened to my mom talk to my dad on the phone about bringing my siblings out to help them pick out presents for the members in my family; a conversation that happens every year. But then she started talking about my little sister. Sweet little Rebekah, the little girl I waited 11 years to meet. She told my dad how my little sister has been asking for someone to bring her Christmas shopping for quite some time now, she said how Bek had been saving the $20.00 she had received from my grandparents back in May for her birthday so she could buy us all Christmas presents. 

    My heart dropped. 

    Here I was angry that I was making hardly even $8.00 an hour, stressing about how I was going to pay for school, and gas, and still save money on top of that, yeah I had bought my family Christmas presents but I spent as little as I could.... while meanwhile my little sister had spent the last 7 months saving every last cent she owned so she could give it all up so that we could have a reason to smile on Christmas morning. 

    I don't know about you but there is no doubt in my mind that at 8 years old my little sister knows more about the true meaning of Christmas than the majority of adults I know.

    Christmas is about selfless giving. 

    During Christmas time we celebrate the birth of the one who gave us his very life so that we can live again. On Christmas we celebrate the greatest gift the world has ever received: Jesus Christ. On Christmas we give gifts to remind us of this gift God gave us: the gift of his only begotten Son. It is that type of selfless giving we are supposed to have during Christmas. And it is in the hearts of people like my little sister that the true meaning of Christmas is found. 

    We are not asked to sacrifice our lives as a gift on Christmas, but we are asked to sacrifice. My little sister sacrificed by being willing to save and spend all the money she had for the ones she loved. I can sacrifice by forgetting about myself and thinking about others. We all have different ways to sacrifice, but if we all give up a little something this Christmas we can help remind the world what Christmas is really about. 

    Thank you Rebekah for being the pure, little, innocent girl you are and reminding me what really matters.

Monday, December 12, 2011

ain't no sunshine

I didn't write this song (despite the intro to the video... just skip the intro actually, it is pretty bad), but I arranged the song a bit, and added a different bridge that I did write. It is still a work in progress, I just messed around at the end so that's why it sounds a little funny, plus I am playing it with long nails which is never a good thing to do! But! Hopefully soon enough I will have it polished so I can put it up again. 

This is a song I wrote about the rain. I am hoping to get a much better recording of it also, but until then this is all I've got. The video and sound quality are bad, but it is enough of an idea.    

Sunday, December 11, 2011

My Page

I began with an empty page; my life was clean and pure,
But now my page is not as bright as it was before.

My precious page once new and white has turned a different shade,
It's darkened, scratched, and slightly torn with the mistakes I've made.

Sometimes I imagine my page is clean and I can start once more,
Then I could keep that page of mine, white and clean and pure.

I begin to feel rotten, mad at what I've done, and see,
I was not becoming the person I had always wanted to be.

Then I remembered something, I'd been taught through all my years,
There was for me a savior, who would wipe away my tears.

If I would only turn to him, He'd reach out his hand, 
He would help me, bless me, and bring me through this land.

So I asked him to help me through all my pain,
He said, "My child, I'll help you. For this reason was I slain."

And so he took my battered page, and cleaned it with care, 
My precious page was clean again, I no more had despair. 

So now I know that if my page is ever scratched or torn,
I can ask my Savior for help, for me his pains were born.

And when again I see him, I'll to him quickly run,
He'll say, "My child, I love you. Rest, your work is done."

By: Natasha Smith, Age: 11

Friday, December 2, 2011

did you know...

                              I have never pierced my ears (or any part of my body for that manner)            

I have a talon clip.
                                                                             My ears are different from each other.

               I have never played a video game in my life.

                                                               I have a muscle frenum.

I have seen more sports movies than chick flicks.
                               
                                                                              My favorite color is lime green.

      I have a obsession with dill pickles.

                                                                  I LOVE football.

I used to be shy, I sometimes still am.

                                                                               I can't hold a grudge.

           I hate playing monopoly. I rather do dishes.

                                                                           Dishes is one of my favorite household chores.

I love to read huge books.

                                                I do not like mushrooms.


          I could spend the rest of my life stepping on crunchy leaves and be perfectly content.


                                                          When people cut the corner in their car a part of me dies.


If you want comfy hang out clothes, shop the men's athletic wear.
                                                                           
                         
                             I have flown through a hurricane.


                                              I do not like cat's, if they went extinct I would be okay with it.


As a child I spent most of my time playing with cardboard boxes.


                          I don't dislike anyone.


                                                                           My middle name is Joy.


   In my mind if you walk 3-7 feet away from a crosswalk, it is not jaywalking it is merely an alternate rout.


                           I genuinely love helping people.


                                                                                   I laugh at my own jokes.

              I pretty much laugh at everything actually.

                       
                                                        Sometime's I get scared at the depth of my ability too love.


I love the outdoors.

                                                            I have very good luck.


                 I credit my luck to being born exactly 9 months after Saint Patrick's Day.

                                     
                                                                          I love talking to people.


I cannot stand socks on my feet unless I am wearing shoes.


                                                                                      I love popcorn. Any time of the day.

The chicken came first.

Friday, November 25, 2011

apple. freaking. pie.

I did it. I made a completely gluten-free apple pie! Happy Thanksgiving to me!

Gluten Free Thanksgiving - A Letter to Loved Ones
By: Paul Berchtold, November, 2010

Dear family and friends, if over I come,
For a holiday visit, at your welcome,
GLUTEN FREE FLOUR... SCORE! 
And we're seated 'round your lovely table,
Please understand why I'm not able,
To eat your many beautiful dishes,
Despite your insistent, most earnest wishes.

These dishes show your work and cheer,
Some only made once a year,
You must surely slave, hard and long,
Over the oven, whistling your song,
No doubt your recipes take many an hour,
The finest ingredients, the best of flour.

I really don't want, to pop your bubble,
After you've gone to so much trouble.
I hate to throw you monkey wrenches,
When you've worked so hard in the trenches,
But I must tell you, my face is blue,
I can't eat gluten. It's worse than glue.

Please hear me right, the sound is gluten,
Starts like glue, ends hollering and hootin,
Either way my meal, will probably be,
Also wisely spent, gluten free!
And that's because there's not a glut,
Of gluten-free foods to fill my gut.

I love pie. 
Thanks to many a local store,
Gluten free is coming more and more,
But even so, it's not real cheap,
You'd better have big large pockets deep,
But I'm on a shoe-string budget you know,
And my strings are breaking high and low.

I'm very lucky, and don't want to complain,
Of all my aches, and all my pain,
After decades of trouble, can't you see ?
I found the problem, fi - nal - ly !
I'm gluten-free, or I'd be dead,
So I can't eat toast, and I can't eat bread.

No wheat or oats or barley or rye,
I'll eat again, or I just might die.
Avoiding these things is an absolute must.
No stuffings, no gravies, no pie crust,
FRESH APPLES
The list of no's is so very long,
I'll likely just bring, my own food along.

Raw fruits and veggies, nuts and seeds,
These are now my special needs,
Almond butter, fish, kelp meal,
Rice bread and cheese, what a deal !
And replacing oats and wheatie flakes,
Are what I call, rice cardboard cakes.

You just don't find these things and more,
In every cupboard, behind any door.
Don't you worry, have no fear,
What I treasure most this year,
I'm alive and well, I'm in better health.
My time on earth is greater than wealth.

This could be my punishment mild,
For passing on veggies, when I was a child,
But if you happen to see, my sheepish face,
When gathered together, saying grace,
I hope I can hide my wicked little grin,
Against the grim reaper, who failed again!
I am thankful for pie I can eat.

Over 30 years I've been dying,
Every avenue I've been trying,
Doctors, books, research, notions,
Diets, pills, potions, lotions.
Just this Spring my heart gave out,
A reminder we must sometime go out.

I could've gone, but was lucky yet,
I hadn't my Creator met.
But to keep it that way, I have to say no,
To most on the table, and that's just so,
I can help keep the day, fun and free,
So you won't have to call, emergency!

I'm thinking it's probably not my time,
Which is why I'm writing this special rhyme.
I'd rather be here with family and friends,
Than have to this day in the hospital spend,
Of course it could be a whole lot worse,
You could be following, me in a hearse!

I'm glad, my friends, you're not digging my grave,
Think of all the work I save!
I'd like you to help me keep it that way,
So I won't have to ruin Thanksgiving Day!
I'm glad to be counted among the living,
Telling one and all - Happy Thanksgiving !

Sunday, November 20, 2011

purple dinosaurs

    When I was 2 I received a very special gift, so special that I have it to this very day, 17 years later.

    Not many little girls and boys remember much about their early life. Okay so I remember some stuff... like the time I got my head stuck in the railing by the stairs at our old house... or the day we took a road trip to Colorado and I jumped on the hotel bed until I threw up... and heaven forbid I forget about the day I got separated from my mom in the primary room at our church. But, I'm talking more about the day to day events, like getting up and putting on clothes, or what I ate on August 23. No one remembers that stuff, let's get real. I think I started remember details like that when I was 9 or 10, but not 2. That part of my life is fairly blank when it comes to the small things, except for one day. There is one day I remember very well.

    The day I got my purple dinosaur.

    It was my birthday and I was having a party! My mom went full out when we were little, you name it, we had it: the streamers, hats, presents, guests, games, balloons, etc. We had the best parties in the neighborhood, everyone was invited.

    I remember that I was wearing a jumpsuit on top of a red turtle neck... it was snowing outside... the kitchen tile was blue... along with the cupboards, (this was before we re-did our kitchen). We had school posters on the wall, and everyone was frosting cookies. I couldn't name names if you asked me, but lots of people were coming up and saying "Happy Birthday Tashi!" I did not care much for people being around me, I was deathly shy. So I just sat on my little chair with my cookie as the moms talked above me and the neighborhood kids played.

    Then my dad came up to me. Holding a purple dinosaur.

    He did not say much... he just handed me this gift and told me that he got it just for me so when I look at it I can know how much he will always love me.

    That was it really.
   
    And the party went on.

    But in that moment I remember holding on to this dinosaur and knowing without a doubt how much my dad loved me. I had no doubt of his love, even in my 2-year old mind. Some people might argue that a child so small is not yet capable of feeling something like that, but I assure you they are.

    I still have that purple dinosaur. He has survived through all the years, and although his arms are poorly stitched back on by 11-year old me, and his fur is growing thin, he is still a perfect symbol of my dads eternal love for me. I will hold on to that special symbol forever.

    I really don't know what led my dad to buy me that gift, or say the things he did, but it was just what I needed. From a young age I have had no doubt in my mind that my Dad loves me. He is one of the strongest, bravest, smartest guys I know. When he is near you, nothing bad can happen. He is a really special Dad, and I am a lucky girl to have him in my life. I love him so very much.



Tuesday, November 15, 2011

orange juice

    I was walking down a hall at school when I saw a big pile of trash on the floor next to the trash can. The first thought that popped into my head was "you should pick that up..." I knew it would only take a couple of minutes at the most, but I didn't. As I walked away from that small pile of trash one single image clouded my mind:    

orange juice.

    You know those moments when you know you should do something, but you don't because you are too afraid of what people might think of you? I do.


    Those are the moments that make me think about orange juice. 

    I have a confession. A confession that is also a story. I have only told one person this story in my entire life so I really don't know why I am telling it now. But I am, because it needs to be told. I don't want others to make the same mistake I did.

    I don't know why I walked away that day... okay... maybe I do. I just cannot get myself to admit that I let what others think be more important to me than what I knew inside my heart was right.

    I don't know his name. I never will because I never asked. I was too busy thinking about myself. It was really crowded at school and I was brand new. I didn't know anyone and the last thing I wanted to do was stand out. I remember everything perfectly. I guess it made an impression on my mind. As everyone scurried to make it to their next classes before the tardy bell rang, he sat by his locker frantically trying to hold on to his stack of textbooks, plate of cookies and jacket. I think I noticed him because he seemed to have the same wish as me that day... to go unnoticed. He was an awkward looking kid whose glasses were too big, whose pants were too short, and whose clothes were anything but brand new. To put it frankly, he looked like the type of kid that had spent his whole life living in the shadows of the more confident and well dressed people around him.

    I think he had some type of class presentation that day... or class party... I really don't know, maybe I am jumping to assumptions... but why else would be have a plate with 30 homemade cookies and a pitcher of orange juice in his locker? Anyway, the point is he clearly was trying to balance way more than anyone is capable of balancing in their hands. I watched as he carefully reached for the pitcher of orange juice at the top of his locker... as he reached the cookies slid a little too far to the side of his arm and started to fall, his immediate reaction (like anyone's would be) was to grab the falling cookies. But, as he did he dropped his textbooks all over the floor...

    Then it happened. The pitcher of orange juice fell out of his locker and spilled all over the hallway, soaking his books in it's sticky orangeness and sending the crowds of kids running. I watched as some kids started to laugh at him and tell him how stupid it was to try to hold everything he was holding; I watched as other kids just walked away saying nothing as the orange juice spread further across the floor. He picked up his wet books and crumbled cookies and just sat there.

    I had a very strong feeling that I was in that specific place because I needed to help him.
 
    But I didn't.

    I turned around and walked away.

    And as I walked away, a flood of pain filled my heart. My whole life I had claimed to be a Christlike person, and here I was walking away from someone who needed my help the most. I was so mad at myself. It took a long time for me to forgive myself for what I did that day.

    I guess what I am trying to say is don't be like I was. I would do anything to go back in time and not walk away, but I can't. So I try and do better each and every day. It is very hard sometimes, you think after an experience like that it would be a no brainier, but I still struggle. I can tell you one thing though, that day, after I walked away, I made a decision that I would never let an opportunity to serve someone pass me by through selfishness again.

    You know how I said that as I walked away from that trash pile orange juice clouded my mind? Well it did, and that is exactly why I turned around and picked up that trash. I know it is a small step, but it is a step in the right direction.

    I wish I could thank that boy for what he taught me. Maybe one day I will. I don't know if I will ever get that lucky, but until then I will do all I can to make up for that day. And every time I think about walking away from someone who needs my help I can guarantee you I will think of orange juice.