Wednesday, September 12, 2012

i'm not much of a story teller

The other night, when Abbi was going to bed she begged for me to tell her a story.  And after one, she asked for another, and then just ONE more.  I don't really know fictional stories out of the top of my head due to the size of my inch-long memory.  So, I pulled some odd memories out of my head to tell her about.

1.  When I was young, maybe twelve or so, my family traveled to Zion's National Park for a camping trip with a selection of the Stone family.  Back then, I had to wear glasses ALL the time.  I didn't have contacts and I couldn't see well enough to ever take a break from my glasses.  There was a river near our campsite, the Virgin River.  It was flowing pretty fast, which made a fun game for my cousins and me.  There was a large boulder in the middle of the river and if you sat on it, the river would spin you around and push you off into the water.  It made for a lot of fun in the hot, southern Utah heat.  I have one cousin, who matches another cousin or two, with her long legs.  She took her turn to spin and drop off the rock, but I was standing too close.  Those long legs came flying around and by accident, my glasses were kicked off into the river.  Oh, no!  Our game stopped and we searched and searched the rocky bottom of the river for my glasses.  My parents hadn't bought them too long ago and I was so scared to tell them they were gone.  I knew they had to stretch to buy them and it would be terrible to have to buy another pair.  We scoured the bottom of the river until dark storm clouds made it too difficult to try any longer.  Slowly, I made my way back to the campsite.  Immediately, everyone knew my glasses were gone.  They were usually a fixture on my face and there I was, wet, cold, and blind.  I can't remember if my parents were mad or not.  I know they were upset but it felt like it was more because there was no way to replace the glasses.  The summer rain began to fall which drew out the tarantulas, running into unsuspecting campers dry hiding places.  And while the rain fell, the river banks were flooded.  There was SO much water.  That night, like every night, we had family prayer, and, I'm sure my parents prayed on their own for the glasses to turn up.  The campsite flooded overnight but the rain slowed down and maybe even stopped in the morning.  Before we headed back towards I-15 North, my dad and I went to the riverbank where I had played.  That morning, we had prayed again for the glasses to be found.  It was now or never.  I pointed out the boulder to my dad where my cousin and I had played so recklessly the night before.  Dad told me to take a certain number of steps out into the river.  I did.  Then, he told me to take a certain number of steps to the side.  I did.  Then, Dad said to reach down and feel the river bottom by my feet.  I did.  And, after just a second or two, my fingers felt the metal frames and I pulled the glasses out of the river and waved them above my head!  Our prayers were answered.  My parents had faith and prayed and their prayers were answered.  As a young girl, I got to witness the power of prayer and the blessing of faith because of my good parents.  What a happy ending!

Abbi:  Please!  Another one!

I'm not sure why I told her this next one.  I guess I wanted her to know there isn't just one story about having prayers answered.  And, I wanted her to know that parents (especially moms) love and pray for their daughters' happiness.  I think it turned out well.  She laughed and gasped at all the appropriate times.  Shall I use real names on my blog, you know, for personal record keeping sake?  No.  I guess I know how it feels to read my name in a blog post that was less than positive about how great I am.  Maybe Abbi will remember them :)

2.   A long time before I was married, I went to church with lots of people my own age, no kids, who were all unmarried.  There was one person there, who for a time, I thought I might like.  Then again, sometimes I didn't, and all the time I questioned my judgment.  But, for at least some of the time, he liked me, too.  Boys (not all of them, I guess) aren't always very bright or brave when they like girls.  And, they aren't very good at taking girls on dates either.  This boy was not bright, brave, or good at those things.  When I thought maybe we were going to be friends, he played a trick on me.  But the trick didn't go how he was planning.  Instead of automatically knowing it was a trick, I thought something was wrong with my car, and my two car experts told me not to drive it.  So, my roommate got me to an important work meeting, barely on time.  Then, we went back home so I could take my car to the dealership.  My boss was not happy.  I was worried about how much the dealership was going to charge me and I was worried about what my boss was thinking.  When I dropped my car off, the mechanic asked, "Could anyone have played a prank?"  I assured him there was NO way because, "I'm an adult.  I'm friends with adults.  No prank."  Then, I walked to my dad's work to borrow his car so I could get to work.  As I entered the freeway, the dealership called.  "Remember when I asked if it was a prank?"  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?  A PRANK!?!?  A prank is the reason I was having a HORRIBLE day!?!?  Immediately, I knew who it must have been.  I hung up and called this guy, who I thought was mature and was my friend.  I didn't ask any questions.  I just started yelling.  And all he did was laugh.  He had no remorse, not even for what it had done to my day.  To him, it just made it all the more funny.  After I yelled a little more he asked, "Can we talk about this later?"  That's when I heard someone must have been in his office and heard the whole conversation.  "NO!  We can't!  We can never talk again!"  Then I went to work and cried my eyes out, which got me a lunch break three minutes after I walked in.  A fire of texts spread across my singles ward because this guy thought he was so funny he thought he'd tell everyone to ask me about it.  One girl, in particular, decided to get into my business.  The next few days were miserable.  Sunday arrived and I was anxious about the marathon of meetings that the aforementioned single-adults would be at, too.  But I went anyway.  And, nothing happened.  I ignored the boy and the girl kept her mouth shut.  I made it all the way through the Sunday meetings with no problems!  After church, I drove straight to my parents house to tell my mom that I was okay!  And, my mom was happy for me.  She told me she had prayed for me.  She prayed for that girl's mouth to be shut.  I couldn't believe it ... it worked!  My mom cared so much that she knew and remembered my feelings were hurt when she said her prayers.  And, her mom faith blessed me.  That's what mom's do.  They love, they remember, and they pray.  Then, Heavenly Father sends the blessings.

Abbi:  Tell me ONE more!  Please!  From when you were a little girl!

I couldn't think of one.  I tried to think of another prayer one.  I couldn't think of anything of the top of my head until I remembered this little number.  I may not have all the ages right, but I know I am not far off.

3.  When I was exactly Abbi's age my dad was released from being the bishop of our ward.  He had been the bishop for five years and was released before my eighth birthday.  In our ward, there were a lot of elderly folks, including a lot of widows.  My dad had a special relationship with them that he maintained until each of them passed away.  I think he spoke at most of their funerals.  There was one widow, who we visited a lot.  After she couldn't live alone any longer she was moved into a nursing home.  I've never known anyone as old as this woman was.  Pearl Child was more than 100 years old and had lost her husband many, many years before.  Pearl had a strong mind well after her 100th birthday but a few birthdays after that, and her mind and body got a little more weak.  (Abbi asked, "Now, how wrinkly were her hands?  Very wrinkly?"  I assured her that Pearl's hand were, in fact, very wrinkly.)  My dad visited Pearl regularly long after he was released from being the 7th Ward bishop.  One visit, he came in and Pearl's eyes lit up.  She thought Grandpa Hansen was her husband (who had actually died a long time ago) and was returning from a mission!  And because she had missed him so much, and because she was so happy to see him (the husband/Grandpa) she kissed him!  And boy, did she kiss him!  She was so happy and told Grandpa how glad she was he had come.  Pearl even wanted to give him another kiss!  Can you believe that?  105 year old, wrinkly woman thought Grandpa was her husband and kissed him!  

Abbi laughed and kept asking questions about how small and wrinkly that woman was.  She asked for another story but I'm pretty sure I didn't do well choosing memories on the spot.  I better stop writing and start think about more appropriate stories for tomorrow night.


Hansen Family Blog said...

Joey you tell great stories and your are a great mom. I bet she will remember you taking the time to tell her those stories.