Tuesday, July 1, 2014

Hey fam, 
Sounds like every one is going on crazy adventures without me. That is ok though. I have my own crazy adventures here. No need to worry for me.  
This week was good. Elder Koegler and I got to see the prime minister at the community center grand opening. The ceremony was very... Jamaican, but it all went well. We are excited that it is done so that we can start seeing Paul a little more frequently.  
I went into Spanish Town on Wednesday for Zone Meeting. Zone Meeting was really good. It focused a lot on meeting with the Ward Mission Leader. We just got a new ward mission leader, so I am going to have to do a lot of coordinating and training. I am still trying to figure it out myself. 
We went for a bike ride out toward mexico (a small town somewhere in the bush) on sunday when everything fell through. As far as exploring the area goes, we did not find much.  The valley we rode into was, however, full of orange orchards. The tru-juice orchards spread out across the whole valley. It was green and absolutely beautiful. 
There was one night this week where we got home and there was no power. We had to plan with flashlights. It came back on before bed time though. 
My district has been doing great. We are all working hard here. There is much to be done. I will be going on trade off in Spanish Town tonight. It should be fun. I have not yet taught in Spanish Town. I will be with Elder Ambrose, so I am looking forward to it. Elder Ambrose is great.
Enjoy the vacation everyone. Good luck with Philmont dad. Seriously, good luck. 
I am glad to hear that Mariel is getting married. I also found out today that Gretchen Graham is getting married soon too. 
I am glad that I don't have to worry about anything for another year. Just hot sun, and ghetto gospel. haha.
I love you all!
Elder Pullan


Suit models for the ceremony on Saturday.

My latest artwork. On my desk.

The Zone

Monday, March 17, 2014

Happy Windsday!

I thought that Pooh's phrase was quite appropriate this week. It is blowy here in Provo! I made the mistake of wearing a skirt to campus today, and both it and my hair were being whipped around all over the place every time I stepped out the door.

I got to go to the Timpanogos Storytelling Conference last weekend.  I committed serial neglect of my homework, harp practice, room cleaning, and responsibilities in general in favor of going down to the Provo Mariott conference wing for two days to rub shoulders with the best of the business. It was so much fun! The storytelling community is like a family. I didn't feel intimidated around the professionals or the other storytellers. They were all so friendly with me, and a couple took me in like a long-lost daughter. I had a great time and learned so much. I did workshops on story programs for kids, telling ancient myths, using storytelling in the classroom, working with masks, creating different characters, telling family stories, telling ghost stories, and more. The tellers who told and gave keynotes were amazing. One was Noah Baum, who is from Israel and uses storytelling to help people see each other's perspective and resolve conflict. My mom and I went to the Orem Library to hear her tell on Thursday night. There were tall tale tellers, ghost story tellers, personal story tellers--every variety. I was convinced yet again that if I could get away with donning a cloak, strapping harp to my back, and becoming a wandering troubadour for the rest of my life, I would be perfectly happy with that career. As it is, there isn't much money with troubadours these days--there wasn't back when they were popular--so that is that. Still, I have come to love storytelling these past years, and I look forward to putting what I have learned this week to good use.

My friend Bethany and I sang and signed a song in Sacrament meeting yesterday--"I Stand All Amazed." It turned out beautiful. My lesson went pretty well (thank Heaven--literally), and after that I caught a ride with Mariel and Jordan down to Riverton for my cousin Henry's ordination to the teacher's quorum. I missed the ordination, but I did get there for the party--and the bestowal of the green tie upon Henry. The green tie has been flying around the family for as long as I can remember. Legend has it that Grandpa Foster passed it on to one of the boys, and it was so ugly that none of them wanted to keep it, so it started being passed between them from time to time. I don't know who started giving it away on special occasions, but that has been the way of it since. It had gone into hiding for a while, but then resurfaced in Uncle Wayne's briefcase on the first day of work after a big promotion last month, and now it is with Henry. I love the Pullan family--we are a fun bunch. At any rate, it was a great afternoon--good food, lots of family and friends, and rich chocolate cake. If the celestial kingdom looked just like that when I get there, I would be eternally happy.

Today, as I said, was blustery. I wore green for St. Patrick's Day and made fruit smoothies for breakfast--my favorite. I made it through a long day in time to go to dinner at the Bishop's house with my FHE group. I am now exhausted, so I will sign off. I have been very stressed with not much sleep these days, which is a poor combination. I intend to get in a full eight hours tonight if I can get away with it. :)

TTFN! Ta ta for now!

Sunday, March 9, 2014

College Life: a Photo Essay (sort of)

This is life, in Provo, in the English Education department, in theater, and in

Sometimes I do things like this:


This is called a sentence diagram. This one was two weeks ago. Guess what? They get more complicated every day. My teacher assures me that I will not have to teach anything remotely this complicated to my students. Thank the heavens above.

Sometimes I dress like this:

Or like this:


I did my play a week ago--"I am Jane." It turned out great, in spite of the frequent disorder and difficulties with casting. We definitely had the Lord's blessings. We were able to tell that beautiful story to a lot of people--the last night we were putting extra chairs in every place possible. We dressed up like angels and pioneers, told stories, sang gospel, and all in all shared our testimonies in song and dance. Also, on one night was had audience members like this:


Yes, that's right. That is President Uchtdorf. His wife and daughter were there as well. When I came out of the bathroom from doing my makeup and saw him standing there, I about died. My fellow actress Malasia and I were looking at each other with eyes the size of dinner plates, whispering ecstatically: "Is that--" "Yes!" "That's HIM?!" "Yes, it is!" "Oh my gosh!!!" etc. Pres. Uchtdorf came into the cast room and shook hands with all of us, and was a very good sport about taking pictures afterwards. It was amazing to have him there. What an honor!

Outside of that, it's same old, same old on the college scene. I am working furiously trying to keep up in all my classes. I gave a mini lesson in my grammar class that went less than stellar, and performed in a scene in my acting class that went far better than expected. Every day has its ups and downs. I visited J. Reuben Clark law school on Wendesday night to explore whether I am interested in getting a juris doctorate at some point (the answer: right now I'm not sure. LSAT, anyone?) I also went to ASL club (always a treat). I even got to visit the Dead Sea Scrolls exhibit in Salt Lake on Thursday night. Well worth the trip if you have the time--it was absolutely amazing. I was in heaven--two full hours to relive my Jerusalem dreams and remember everything I learned about Hebrew, ancient tels, and pottery shards. The boy I was with (Parker) was a very good sport.

I went to ice cream with Hannah, Mariel, and (in their cases) accompanying boys. It was a lot of fun, even more so because chocolate ice cream was involved. I absolutely love my cousins--they are truly my best friends. We only miss having Amanda around the complete the foursome. :)

I also went to help my mom out with Piano festival this weekend. Have I ever mentioned that my mom is superwoman? It's true! The amount of work and service that she manages to accomplish from day to day and year to year never ceases to amaze me. My life's ambition would be fulfilled if I could become even close to the woman that she is. She has taken on so much responsibility with piano festival because she values music and giving those opportunities to the kids in our community. I was glad I was able to come help her out. It was a very successful year. Well done, Mom.

That is all for today. I am about to go off and watch The Incredibles with my friends upstairs for our weekly Disney Sunday movie. I promise to write more faithfully this time. I hope.

Adios, mi amigos i familia!

'Til next time...

Sunday, February 23, 2014

I'm Late, I'm Late, for a Very Important Date!

Ah, the dear old White Rabbit. The way this week has been going, he and I could form a support group for people with "no time to say hello, goodbye!" because that is exactly how I am feeling right now. Run, run, run, get to class, turn in such-and-such, read articles/textbooks for half an hour, forget to turn in something else, grab dinner, rush to rehearsal a few minutes late and jump into a pioneer dress, become frustrated by how close we are to the performance day and how much we have yet to do... lather, rinse, repeat. It's a little crazy here on the home front, yes?

That being so, I am going to focus here on some of the happy moments, blessings, and all around good things that happened this week. I could complain to you from now until the cows come home about the stressful things, but that just doesn't do anybody any good. Therefore, here are some good moments of the life of Rachel.

I went tubing on Monday, first with my family and then with my ward. Most of the members of my ward thought I had just come with them, then were shocked to discover that I do in fact live up there. I spent the night with a couple of friends and had a great time. We caught some excellent air on the bumps a couple of times!

I was asked to sing "There is a Balm in Gilead" for I am Jane. It is a beautiful song, and I have been flattered that everyone likes my voice enough to give me a solo.

I have gotten into Psych lately. I watch it from time to time in the evenings when I can't stand to read another scholarly word. I've also kept up on the Olympics in bits and snatches. The container of Cherry Cordial ice cream in my fridge has also been extremely beneficial for my stress levels. In the way of food, I have lately become a great fan of rose sauce--marinara and alfredo mixed together. So delicious.

We've been having a balmy spell of late. Blue skies, temperatures way up in the forties and fifties, bright sunshine... it's like the groundhog was wrong for once and spring came early. I actually studied outside a little the other day. I don't have enough confidence in Utah's late winter weather to assume that it's going to last, but I will enjoy it thoroughly until the next snow/rain/sleet/hail storm comes our way.

I am looking into moving into a house next fall-winter. I'm kind of excited about it.

I get to read YA novels for home work. Yes, you heard me. I can justify myself for reading because  I'm getting a grade! Hooray!

I got to see the musical of Little Women with my mom and sister the other night. It was a little long, but a really charming story with a fun cast and good music. Still not my top favorite of all time (nothing beats Les Mis, Aida, or Beauty and the Beast), but it was fun.

I went to the temple on Saturday with my ward. Baptisms took three hours and I didn't care. It's been over a month since I have been. There is nothing like the peace and spirit of the temple to revive and refresh and make things better. It was perfect.

Saturday was also my friend Bethany's birthday, so we and some others beat a path for Panda Express for some birthday lunch. I had a great time with my friends, as I always do--nothing makes me happier. I also got to converse with Bethany's older sister, who also made the decision not to serve a mission because she felt she needed to stay (no fiance or anything like that). With so much pressure for girls to get up and get in the MTC these days, it was a blessing to have her encouragement and know that I am not the only one who has made that choice--who has been called to serve at home.

Mio and Jordan came and picked me up yesterday night to go to The Chocolate for Hannah's birthday. Jordan paid for my dessert--his girlfriend's random cousin!--even though he didn't need to, which made me feel very cared for. He is a great guy, and I am so glad he and Mariel are dating. He managed to take on the whole family reunion experience a few weeks back, so he's won a badge of honor in my mind. It was also great to see Hannah again. I have become so much closer to her as we have been through school together the past year, and I am so grateful for her friendship.

Now it is Sunday, the highlight of every week. I never appreciated the value of a day of rest until I got to school. I still wish sometimes that I could run away from Provo and go camping somewhere peaceful and solitary, but I know that I am blessed and have a wonderful life. Things are crazy, but I am happy. "Why should we mourn or think our lot is hard? Tis not so--all is right!"

That's all for today. Love you all!

Sunday, February 16, 2014

Hip Hip Hooray for Valentine's Day!

Hi, my name is Rachel, and I like Valentine's Day even though I don't have a boyfriend. So there. :)

It has been a good week. I am slowly getting through my credit load, though it's hard--I always have something I can be or should be doing. I have decided that I need to become better acquainted with my student planner. With seven classes and music lessons, I feel like there is always something I am forgetting to do or neglecting when I'm not working. I think I will try keeping my schedule on paper more often so that my brain can have a break.

The Olympics are on, and I am enjoying them very much. Figure skating is always my favorite, but I've also been getting into slalom and slopestyle this year. I am pleased that Russia is managing thing so far. Not everything is sunshine and rainbows, I know--there were major problems with the athlete's village, I'm told, among other things--but it's been good to see it coming off OK. Heaven knows, Russia could use some good PR on the international relations front.

I am Jane continues well. Our choir (eh hem, ensemble) is very small, and we don't know all of the songs very well. Hopefully we can start nailing it this week. At our last practice, I got to sing "A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief" for a scene. Brother Joseph is supposed to sing it, but when I was though half the cast decided that I should do it. I don't know if the director agrees, but we'll see. I was flattered, anyway. It's such a beautiful song and has such meaning, especially with the actors on stage mourning the death of the prophet.

Valentine's Day was great. I went up to Heber to watch the kids so that my parents could go enjoy being each others valentines at the Grand America in Salt Lake. Meanwhile, the kids and I had a party. We went to the library "pajama-rama" to hear fairy tales, brought home a heart-shaped pizza from Papa Murphy's, read our valentines from our parents, and watched a cute movie ("Smooch," a modern frog-prince-type story) while eating Mom's delicious sugar cookies. I love hanging out with my siblings. They are my best friends and I love them more than anything.

The next day we drove to Salt Lake to see Grandma and Grandpa Pullan and meet with my parents. Part of me hopes that my mansion int he Celestial Kingdom can look a little like my grandparents' house--Molen or Pullan. I can't help but feel at home when I'm there. Grandma sent me away with a bag full of packages of oreos and peanut butter crackers to keep in my bag at school, and Grandpa contributed a few books he didn't need to my growing classroom. My Grandparents take such good care of me--and the Molens, too. I hope that someday when I am a grandparent, I can hit some magical combination of both, because I think both my sets of grandparents are the best in the world. Not that I'm biased or anything, of course. :)

I had a Valentine's party at my place that night. My mom helped me get the apartment ready, and I put together some snacks. A few friends from my ward and one from my high school came and joined me. We dipped things in warm chocolate (bananas, strawberries, cookies, pretzels, marshmallows, etc. The fruit is always my favorite. Who knew bananas and chocolate would make such a magical combination?). We also watched The Importance of Being Earnest, which is easily one of my favorite movies ever. "To lose one parent, Mr. Worthing, may be counted as a misfortune. To lose both looks like carelessness." It was a great time--I always love spending some time on Valentine's day with my girlfriends. As long as there's a holiday going on, we might as well celebrate, boys or no!

And don't get me wrong, I did get valentines. As always, my Grandma Pullan sent me a card. Amanda sent me a cute letter (how do you write like that, Amanda? It's like a font!). And once again, my daddy was my valentine. Mom and Dad left each of us kids a valentine letter, and Dad left me a bottle of bath and body works lotion. I am so blessed to have such amazing parents. I realize what an incredible blessing it is that I have never ever had any doubt that my parents love me. I have always felt loved in my home.

That is all for now. I love you all! Happy Valentine's Day!

Monday, February 10, 2014

A Rainy Weekend

The forecast said snow. It didn't--we got a rainstorm that made it look like my mom's home in Washington. In the meantime, turns out that northwestern Washington got snowed on. Mother nature, she has her jokes.

The weekend was much like other weekends--very pleasant, and much less productive than I intended from the off. Then again, what's a weekend if you don't mess around and waste time a little bit?

Friday started with harp practice early in the morning, which is when my practice happens most of the time. Nobody likes to get up at 8 in the morning to snag a practice room, so if I go early enough I can have my pick of the harp rooms. I am currently playing a song that has so many pedal changes it makes my head spin trying to get back and forth from my feet to my hands. It's a lot of fun, though--a Scott Joplin style ragtime piece. I think it will turn out after I've had a few more months to wrestle with it.

After I practiced I hurried down to the RB for Adaptive Aquatics. Every week I go down there to play with little kids with special needs from nearby schools. Usually I play in the gym--Gym Kids--but Friday I figured, that since I had more time I could swim. I swam with a little girl named Destiny who was always smiling, was terrified of not having someone to hold on to in the water (even with a life jacket) and who loved squirting other people with guns or rubber ducks. Consequently, my good intentions about keeping my hair dry didn't get very far. Fortunately I only had one class (Performance Studies, in which we played a game and talked about the concept of "Play"), but I was still embarrassed when my hair started to dry funny.

I am in a play at present called "I am Jane." It is the story of Jane Manning James, a black woman who was one of the early saints. Want to know more? KSL will have all the details because at our Friday rehearsal we were interviewed for a radio show! Well, actually it's a radio podcast, but exciting nonetheless. If you want to hear me and the other cast members talk about our characters and ourselves and the play and so on, go to ksl.com and type "Cultural Connections" into the search bar, and click the first link that comes up (KSL podcasting or something like that). On the right hand side there will be a long list of all the podcast shows. "Cultural Connections" is a ways down under the "Sunday Shows" heading. Voila! It was fun to be interviewed--I kept imagining the NPR radio shows I listened to during the summer and felt very important.

There was one downside, though--the dress the director had put me in for rehearsal was owned by a woman who has cats, which meant that I reacted to it. Whoops. I hadn't had the dress on fifteen minutes before I realized that my eyes and skin were starting to itch and I was getting asthma. At first I thought I must have developed a new allergy to muslin or cotton, but turns out its the same old animal hair deal. It was new, though--I've never had an allergic reaction to a dress before. I managed to rub off most of my mascara before the interview was over, which made me look a little less nice and a little more puffy in the face than I had hoped, especially since I had a date right after that. Rats. The date was fun, though--dancing and mocktails--and most of the irritation and swelling had gone down by the time I got there. Whew!

Saturday was busy. Harp practice, a noir mystery movie version of Shakespeare's virtually unknown play "Cymbeline" (I saw a fairy tale version earlier in the week that I liked better, but that's more for another day), and practice again, in which we were taught to sing gospel. I was told a good half a dozen times that afternoon to stop singing like a Mormon. What can I say? Old habits die hard...

Our coach/fellow actor, trying to teach us to sing like Baptists
I hurried home to do laundry, finish some reading very quickly, and throw on my Arab-Israeli dress to go to a birthday party for a friend in my acting class:


Shannon is a Theater major emphasizing in costume design, so she decided to have an ancient civilizations party and went to town tying everybody's toga (or other such garment). She could name each person's style of dress, the country it came from, and the socioeconomic class that would have worn it. I was impressed. We had pizza and cupcakes and talked for a long time--longer than I expected because when I tried to go home I found myself locked out of my apartment (no pockets in the arab dress, so I neglected to bring my keys).

The sabbath was lovely--I fasted (I missed last week thanks to being home for stake conference), gave a lesson on Noah and the Ark and the Tower of Babel, made rolls that didn't rise but tasted fine, and collaborated on a group dinner with my friends up in #22 (Bethany, Audri, and Cami) and a couple of guys. Anything tastes good after fasting, but the spaghetti really was fantastic.

I also got to see Adrianne's baby twins for the first time.






The top two pictures are of Elise, the bottom two are Michelle. They were born in December but just came home last week. Today was their official due date, actually--fun fact. The girls were angels and Adrianne was enamored with them. It made me feel 1) rather old to have a friend with children already and 2) very happy, because I haven't held a baby that small in years.

I then walked home--a beautiful walk both ways, especially because of a really beautiful moon with a huge ring probably caused by inversion. I got back in time to enjoy Disney Sunday (this week's feature was Despicable Me 2) and no-bake cookies at #22.

I never want Sundays to end. I could do with more days like that.

Love you! Ciao!

Thursday, February 6, 2014

A Fresh Start

Greetings, everyone!

Everybody makes some New Years Resolutions. I did, for sure. Below is a write up of how that's been going for me.

Goal: Exercise twice a week.
Success rate: None. At least, not in the sense I had been intending. I was thinking along the lines of doing the gym a couple nights per week. Instead, I have been walking half a mile and going up and down the stairs south of campus once or twice every day (at least). Required, yes. But still exercise.

Goal: Read the scriptures every morning.
Success rate: Pretty good. I wanted to get in a good half hour a day, and that hasn't necessarily happened every day. I have read and prayed every day, however, and that is what matters most. I also wanted to get to the temple every week, and that is a work in progress at the moment.

Goal: Keep my journal every day.
Success rate: Flat failure.

In light of the response on that last one, I am now taking another stab at this happy little blog. I was reading back over my wonderful Jerusalem chronicles, and I have lately been keeping up to date with my dear cousin Amanda's blog, and it made me want to become a more consistent blogger. My handwritten journal has been going OK, but not great. I am going to make the attempt at doing some blog journaling. Every other day to weekly basis, maybe with pictures...

Here goes nothing.

This week has been insanely busy. One of my many definitions of "College" is "a time of life in which every second of the eight-hour workday is planned...if not more." I am taking 17 credits this semester, which is a workload that is small enough to be possible but big enough to occasionally be a pain in the neck. I finished a huge project this afternoon that involved mapping out in explicit detail every element of the Great Gatsby (theme, plot, character, etc.), how complex it was, and how to approach it with high school students. Granted, I procrastinated working on the project a little bit, so I was doing a lot at once. It was a good experience, but a real headache at the same time and I am glad its over and done with.

My dad came to pick me up from campus, as he does every Thursday. I always look forward to seeing him and talking with him for a few minutes. He always asks me how I am doing--and he really wants to know. We talk about my homework and classes and his schedule and calling. Sometimes we go for dinner, sometimes not. He always ends up dropping me at my apartment, giving me a hug, and telling me that he loves me, that he's proud of me, and that I am awesome. I am so glad I live so close to home and can see him so often--his encouragement and support and our weekly visits have been a great blessing all these years.

Tonight I had him swing by the creamery so I could pick up some groceries. He gave me a few dollars and told me to get a treat. So I did--cherry cordial ice cream.

Side note: my cousin Amanda unknowingly introduced me to the creamery Cherry Cordial when she mentioned it on her blog. I tried it not long after and have been in love ever since. Thank you, Amanda!

I finished some reading and am now seated on the couch, watching Psych (after the figure skating in Sochi was over on KSL) and eating cherry cordial ice cream. When life gets as busy and stressful as it does here at school, it's the small pleasures that keep me happy. :)

That's all for today. In the words of the irrepressible Tigger, "TTFN! Ta ta for now!" Or in my words, 'til next time... Good night!

Sunday, September 22, 2013

Summer, Part 2: Little Princess

Finally--the next installment. Sorry, folks--if I'm not procrastinating school work, I'm procrastinating everything else. Like this blog, for instance. Anyway--summer. My first summer job was with the bell staff and company at Zermatt. My second summer job was a little different.

I was a nanny. Yes, like Marry Poppins--"Hurry, nanny, many thanks! Sincerely, Jane and Michael Banks." Well, sort of like that. It's not Britain and I didn't wear a great dress and hat or make chalk drawings and carousel's come to life. I did take care of a child, though, and I did try to bring a little magic to her life--a spoonful of sugar, if you will.

The girl's name is Trinity, she is two and a half, and she is a princess. Her mommy and daddy, the hard-working king and queen, work in marketing and needed someone to keep their little girl well and happy for a few hours in the afternoon so they could get to business for a while. That would be me--the royal lady-in-waiting.

Trinity loves princess life. She wore a gown nearly every day--generally pink or purple, usually sparkly, and always beautiful--and she usually changed clothes at least once before I left. The few times I actually saw her wear pants it was a shocker. She has a beautiful bedchamber upstairs, where she can play with her little friends--her stuffed animals and babies and dolls--to her heart's content. She also has a real companion--a big black and white dog called Lucy, who loves and protects her like a personal bodyguard. She loves playing outside, watching movies, and playing at anything she can come up with.

At first, it was a little difficult to get her to relax with me. She wanted her mommy, and when mommy had to go downstairs to get some work done she made no secret of the fact that I just wasn't the same thing. It didn't take too long, though, for her to realize that I was there to make her happy and that she could trust me. The first couple of weeks, she would wake up from her nap, see me there, and start to wail for mom. At the by the time I left for Hawaii with my family, that was starting to get better. I worried that when I came back after a week's absence she would be back at it again--but when I went up to her room to wake her my first day back, she didn't cry at all. Instead, she looked up at me, gave a gasp of surprise, smiled, and whispered, "I'm so glad!"

After that, we were friends. Every day I would arrive at her house mid-afternoon with my bag of tricks (either a small carpet bag-type suitcase or my Molen Magic tote). If she was asleep, I would read or watch a movie until she woke up (it took me two weeks to finish "The Hobbit" in fifteen or twenty minute segments on the sleeping days). If she was awake,, we got right to it. She would rifle through my bag, trying to find what I had brought today--usually just some new books or a puzzle she hadn't done. She always wanted to do the puzzles first thing. Once it was puppets, and we built a puppet theater with a sheet from her bed and tried them out (correction: I tried them out--she played with them, but I don't think she ever quite got the idea). Another day it was plastic plates and cups, and we had afternoon tea at the kitchen table. Sometimes we played with her things, too--playing in her room, creating pictures with stickers and pipe cleaners on paper, and making endless babies and cradles out of play dough.

We almost always went outside for a while, too. We made chalk drawings (she loved being traced), played ball, and had picnics. The day I taught her to play hide and seek was a fantastic one--she was occupied with that for the next half hour (she always hid in the exact same place, behind the bush near the sidewalk, but somehow I managed to forget about that every time). We had our usual walk/bike route up around the neighborhood on the days when she wanted a bike ride. There was a park up the way we visited now and then, where we played on the play set and made birthday cakes in the sand (if Rachel wasn't being boring and enjoying sitting down under a tree instead). From time to time we would go somewhere else--out to my house (Trinity always wanted to play with my siblings) or out to the carousel at Zermatt (though sadly the animals had to stay firmly attached for this nanny).

We were inside and dinner was ready by six or so, then time for pajamas and a movie if she wanted one (99% of the time, she did). Mommy came upstairs around 8 o'clock. Trinity would stand up and cry, "you done?" and, receiving a yes, turn promptly back to me and say "Good bye." And that was that.

It wasn't always easy. Princess Trinity didn't always like Nanny telling her what to do. There were plenty of tired, dramatic, sobbing, whining, exhausting days. Trinity was also undergoing "Princess Potty Training," which was not all that bad an experience for her but that was rather aggravating for Nanny at the beginning when we were weaning off the diapers.

It was worth it, though.

The little Princess and the Nanny grew to love each other. They spent their days together playing great games and having wonderful adventures. When asked who the Nanny was, the Princess would always answer, "This my friend!" The king and queen completely trusted the Nanny with their most precious possession, which made Nanny feel good, and the Princess was happy in Nanny's company, which was even better. It was a wonderful summer--just Princess and Nanny, turning the world upside down with spoonfuls of sugar and imaginations let loose.

Princess Trinity is still living in her palace on the lake--Trinity's lake, which she finally learned (from Nanny's repetition) is really called Jordanelle. She is attending her preschool academy and learning to dance. Nanny is going to her own school, working hard, surrounded by students her own age and learning to play like a grown up again.

It was hard to say goodbye at summer's end, but it was a happily ever after kind of ending. The Princess's life continues, hopefully a little better for having Nanny in it. I might not have been able to make her toys dance or fly on umbrellas, but maybe I taught her a little that life is happy, that the world is good, and that there are people in it outside her palace that love her.

She certainly taught me plenty--like how to be patient, how to get creative, and how to live in the world of a two year old. I think her teaching will make me a good Queen someday--when I have a princess of my own.

Sunday, September 8, 2013

Summer, Part 1: Bell Hoppin' at Zermatt

You may notice that the blog has some new colors (you might not have noticed the last change because it was only there for one post--but there it is, it's new now). It happens that these are the colors Everyday Magic wore back when I first started this blog three years ago. I can hardly believe how much has happened since! School, work, joy, tears, BYU, Israel, love, life... it has been a challenging but ultimately beautiful time. Here's to a happy third anniversary for Everyday Magic--and here's thanks to you for reading it for so long.

Confession: I pretty much didn't journal (or blog, as you know) for the last two months of the summer. Shame, shame, shame... I wanted so much to have some consistency in my journal writing. Darn it! A whole two months of my life missing from the record! I guess I shouldn't complain--it's not that long (confession #2: I've gone without writing much longer before now). My solution for the two month gap is this little blog. I want to have an idea of my summer on record, so I am going to write a little about my summertime in the next couple of posts. Pardon our dust and bear with me!

I had two jobs this summer. That's right--two! I can just picture my mother with a pair of pom-poms cheering over my shoulder, "Full time work! Full time work! Woohoo!!!" Yes, two jobs, in total amounting to something like 35 to 40 hours a week. I will tell about them both, but for this post just the first. I was hired at the end of may to be a bellman at Zermatt resort in Midway.

Yes, Bellman... though in my case, Bell Attendant (we are not gender discriminatory here in the hospitality industry). I didn't actually realize that I was hiring myself into a man's profession until I showed up and found that my coworkers were, in fact... men. And that all of the uniforms were about five sizes too big. However, our Bell Captain, Lee, told me that they have had female bell staff in the past, so it's not too far off the beaten track. As far as the uniform went, my mother worked another one of her miracles and by the next shift my vest fit me just right (sans about four or five inches from the sides).

I spent the first two days getting the grand tour of the whole property (which was far more extensive than I thought) from Lee. Lee and Brian (another of the bellmen) challenged me to memorize the name and location of every conference room in the Matterhorn Conference Center--and to their surprise, I actually did it. I learned how to greet and assist guests, how to valet park cars (backing them into their spaces so they are easy to identify), how to drive a large thirteen to sixteen seater van to shuttle people or pick up laundry, and how to run the carousel. Before long I was all set to go.

It was a great job--probably the best I've ever had. The thing that really made it was the work environment. The other bellmen were wonderful. Brian, always with a smile on his face and a joke at hand in spite of the arthritis in his ankles. Ricardo, the epitome of professionalism and so cheerful and helpful to everyone. Caro, always a tease and commander of the fifteen minute parking spaces. Bruce, always happy and always ready to put a smile on your face. Lee, example for us all, leading us with gentle guidance and complete trust. There were a couple other bellmen as well, but they had specific time requirements that conflicted with mine, so I saw them only on rare occasions. I also got to know the front desk staff as well, and loved them all. Belle was probably my favorite--we spent a lot of time on quiet days chatting about anything that came to mind--from kids to music to schools to chocolate.

Much of the summer past remarkably--the hotel had its ups and downs, its fasts and slows, and I worked hard pushing bell carts and running errands and just enjoying my job. There were a few incidents of particular note that I will mention. Enjoy.

Experience #1: There were always conferences going on at Zermatt. The Utah Teachers Association came once, and DoTerra oils (the conference center smelled very sweet and herb-like when they were there). Procter and Gamble--a huge manufacturer--came once, too. When they were there we had to memorize the names and faces of their VIPs so we could call them by name, and every so often we had to spray the lobby and vans with Febreeze. My favorite conference, however, was the International Rhet Syndrome Foundation conference. Rhet syndrome is an extremely rare debilitating genetic disorder on the X chromosome (so only girls can grow up with it)--a genetic lighting strike. The conference was for parents, but many girls with Rhet syndrome were there, too. Lee started preparing us weeks in advance--all of the bellmen had to read about the disorder, paying particular attention to the needs the girls might have. None of the girls I met could speak, the majority could not walk, and many had different habitual behaviors (ringing hands, etc.). However, we knew from our reading that the girls were not mentally disabled and could understand whatever we said. We were able to be friendly to them, smile and say hello and call them by name when we saw them. We were also able to help with transport wherever needed--wheelchairs, the vans, etc. It was a joy to have them around and a joy to be able to make things easier for them and for their parents. On the last day the group was there, all of the bellmen wore the Rhet Syndrome Foundation shirts they had given us as a thank you gift, showing our support for the group and their effort. One of the parents, Matt Heinburger, is a friend of our family in Heber. After the conference he expressed fervent appreciation for our service. He said that most people don't know how to act around his daughter or any of the other girls, which often makes things uncomfortable. He said it was wonderful to be in a place where there didn't need to be any worry or discomfort for the well-being of the girls. It made me so happy to hear that--it made the work worthwhile.

Experience #2: One day later in the summer a guest came up to us and asked us to bring his car around. Bruce pulled the key from our cabinet, took one look at it, and said,  "Mustang. It's mine!" And ran off to the valet lot. When he drove the car into the pull-around, the guest was inside getting coffee. Bruce beckoned me over to the window, pointing to his phone, and asked me to take his picutre. He smiled in the driver seat while I took his picture in the beautiful cherry red Mustang. I had to laugh--if only the guests knew what we were doing with their valet cars sometimes...

Experience #3: This one is a general occurrence. In the lobby was a great big glass water jug. One of the bellmen's job was to refill it every day. The thing weighed as much as a small child. I could carry it, but it was very heavy--especially when full of water. Brian tole me early on that I was not allowed to touch it while he was on duty. All through the summer that's how it was--Brian took care of the water jug every day, in spite of his arthritis-pained feet, because he didn't want me to worry about it. I was always touched by that. 

Experience #4: In July, my Grandma and Grandpa Pullan went on vacation. They had great intentions about not telling anybody were they were going. When my dad talked to Grandpa that night and asked where they were, Grandpa would only say, "I'm on the porch." The next morning at work, Bruce sauntered over to the bell stand asked, "Rachel P-U-L-L-A-N?" "Yes...," I replied. "I think your grandparents are staying at the Homestead." "What? I--oh, of course they are." I called to their room that very morning to make sure they were going to come see me. They were going to surprise me, and found it wildly funny that I had beaten them to the punch. I saw them every day for the rest of the week.
Later in the summer, I was working late into the afternoon and was there when Lee printed a list of guests who were coming in that evening. Bruce, looking over the list, suddenly looked up and asked me, "Do you know somebody named Grant?" I snatched the list, and lo and behold, there was Grant Pullan, right there. The moment I saw it, I remembered--that day was Grandma and Grandpa's anniversary. Before I left, I had a box of chocolate covered strawberries and a card sent to the room they were staying in--much to the delight of the desk staff and the other bellmen. I was scheduled to work the next day, and I spent the morning anxiously waiting to see a familiar face in the lobby. Finally, at nearly 11 in the morning, the desk attendant called me--and I turned around to see my Grandma. She laughed as I ran to her and called out, "you little stink!" I had spoiled their surprise plans again. We laughed about it the rest of the day.

Experience #5: On a dreary, rainy, cold afternoon, I went to visit the bakery out of a lack of something to do. I chatted with the bakery girls for a while, as they were unoccupied, too. I caught myself glancing at their gelato display. Without thinking about it, I sighed, "Oh, that looks so good--it reminds me of Italy." The girl nearest me smiled and asked, "Do you want to try it?" I said I would love to and asked for the chocolate hazlenut, expecting a spoonful. Oh, no--she filled a whole cup for me. It tasted just like Italian gelato. I stood behind the bell stand, out of the rain, and made it last as long as I could all morning. It was like heaven.

Well, I guess I should probably stop talking now. That's a little sampler for you of my brief career as a bellman (woman--whatever). It was the best job I've ever held and created so many memories. I loved every minute--from the carousel rides to the funny uniform to the Swiss/German music in the pull-around to the late nights watching the moon rise.

Thanks, Zermatt--I had a blast.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

I Know That My Redeemer Lives

This is a little late for Easter, I know. The days have come and gone without a thought for my writings heree--the days get filled up with school and exams and all the rest, and then here we are. Even though Easter is past, however, I wanted to bear my testimony here of my Savior and Redeemer, Jesus Christ.

I know my Savior lives. I know that He loves me with a love that cannot begin to fully understand, but that I feel and rely on every day. I know that He suffered and died so that I would not have to do so, but could live with Him again free of punishment or blame. I know that He rose from the grave on the third day, shattering forever death's hold upon the children of men. I know that He lives today--"the great king Immanuel, who stands... at the right hand of the Father." I know He will come to earth again and finish the great work that He and the Father began--the salvation of mankind. I know that work will succeed.

Some might ask how I know these things. I guess on some level I don't--not in the world's sense of knowing. I haven't seen the Savior. I have not felt the prints of the nails in His hands and feet. I was not there to hear the angels at the empty tomb announcing His resurrection on that first Easter Sunday. I don't have the sort of physical evidence that would prove the case in a courtroom--photographs, nails from the cross and the like.

Don't get me wrong--I have come as close to having that kind of evidence as most people ever get. I have stood in the Church of the Holy Seplechure, kneeling in the upstairs shrine and touching the place where the cross is believed by the Catholic faith to have stood. I have sat among the rocks and brush in the fields overlooking the hillside of Bethlehem, in a place where shepherds still "watch over their flocks by night." I have walked beneath the ancient olive trees of Gethsemane, the place where Jesus Christ took upon Himself the sins and pains of the world, and have marveled anew at the thought of such a great and infinite Atonement. I have sat on the shores of Galilee and watched the morning sun come up over the clear blue water whereon a band of fishermen-turned-apostles once toiled in a fishing boat. I have stood on the steps to the temple mount and in one of the most ancient synagogues in all the Holy Land--places where the Savior Himself stood. I have pondered and sung hymns in the places where He lived and healed--Bethesda, Capernaum, Nain, Jerusalem, and more. I have prayed  at the Western Wall for a new temple to be built. I have sat among the flowers and trees and gazed upon an empty tomb that may have been His, remembering those beautiful words, "Why seek ye the living among the dead? He is not here, but is risen."

All of these were incredible experiences. I felt the spirit and was taught of God as I sojourned in the Holy Land and "walked the roads of Palestine" as Jesus did. But I did not need to go to Israel to know "the reality of His matchless life and the infinite virtue of His great Atoning sacrifice." I got to know those things better in Jerusalem--but I knew them before. I knew my Savior before.

The dictionary defines "knowing"something as "to perceive or understand as fact or truth; to be acquainted with, as by sight, experience, or report." I think this defines very well the way I know Jesus Christ. I know Him by understanding. I know Him by acquaintance--by associating with Him. The Greek "know" has two meanings--to know something in a factual sense, or to know by association. The latter is used in this sense: "And this is life eternal, that they might know thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent." I know Jesus Christ in that way--by association, by being with Him. I know Him perhaps not by physical sight, but by "experience" and by "report." I know Him because He has been with me and because I have felt His presence.

I know Him by faith.Faith is "to hope for things which are not seen, which are true." It is "the assurance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." It is to walk by complete trust, relying on more than sight alone. It is to act without knowing the end from the beginning, but knowing just enough. The Bible Dictionary says that "faith is a principle of action." That is very true, and I know the Savior that way, too--because my actions center so much around my belief that He lives and has a plan for me beyond what I could ever hope for myself.

I have felt the hand of Jesus Christ in my life. I have felt the Spirit testify to me of Him. I have felt with complete certainty the truth of His words as I have studied them in the scriptures. I have felt His comfort in times when I felt nothing could heal me--when my heart was broken, when I felt entirely alone, or when I felt I would never be enough to measure up in this world. In the times when I feel most worthless, He is there to tell me that I was worth everything. When I have been in the throes of pain and despair, He has provided healing and promises of happiness right around the corner. I  have felt His presence in the holy Temple--the House of the Lord. I know that He can bring "peace in this life," and I have great assurance and hope that He can bring all of us "eternal life in the world to come."

I know that my Redeemer lives--that "Jesus is the living Christ, the immortal Son of God." I know He loves me. I know He loves you, too. Because He loves you, He has blessed you and will continue to bless you, even when you aren't looking--now and always.

I write these words in His holy name--even the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Sunday, February 17, 2013

My Valentine

This last week, it happened. That holiday. The one and only. The day that either gives you an excuse to share love with those around you (and maybe some individual in particular) or reminds you that you are painfully still single, depending on how you take it. The day of chocolates and bouquets and yummy little conversation hearts that flash such witty and romantic comments as "Dare Ya" and "Yes Dear" and "Marry Me" (how many people have been proposed to with these hearts, I wonder?). The day of pink and red hearts and chic flicks and dinner dates. The day of love.

Valentines Day.

I remember it being really fun in elementary school. Back then, we were all required to bring a valentine for everyone in the class. We all made boxes to hold them, some creative, some not. I remember being assisted by my parents in making a cardboard mailbox one year. Other years they were just cereal or shoe boxes covered in pink paper and cut out hearts or magic marker drawings with a slot cut in the stop. We would have a party in class, in which we would decorate valentines for our parents and play games and decorate heart shaped sugar cookies, all supervised by generous adult volunteers. Then we would collect our valentines and drop one into each person's delivery box, set out in anticipation on his or her desk. Generally they were just the little paper kind from the store, Disney princess, Power Rangers, super heroes, or otherwise. Sometimes they involved candy. Almost all were individually addressed to each person in big-lettered, grade school handwriting. Nothing real romantic or personal, but a valentine all the same.

When I went into sixth grade, my first year of middle school, I didn't realize how different things would be. There was no plan for a party in home room. We didn't make cutsie delivery boxes or decorate cookies. I think I wore something pink or otherwise holiday appropriate to school the day of, but that was about it as far as I can remember. Our homeroom teacher may have given us a little something, but I don't recall. Only one fact sticks out in my mind. I did not receive a single valentine.

I was so disappointed. I hadn't received anything. Perhaps my memory is amiss--perhaps I did get something from Hannah or Leann--but I didn't have a very tight circle of friends at the time and no boy was interested enough in my little sixth-grader-pencil-line-bangs self to do anything for me. I guess I really shouldn't have been expecting much in middle school, but I didn't know that at the time. I was crushed.

That night, however, I did receive a valentine. Someone left a bottle of orange-scented lotion on the front step, rang the doorbell, and ran. I answered it, found no one there, bent to pick up the bottle--and was both shocked and enthralled to see that my name was on the tag. My mother at first thought the gift was for her, until I showed her the paper--it most certainly said "To: Rachel." It was the first bottle of lotion I had ever owned. It was also the first of many gifts I would receive on February 14th over the years, all from the same person--my one and only Valentine.

It was from my dad.

As the years passed, Valentine's Day continued to be a disappointment as far as the boys in my life were concerned. Most were uninterested in dating, let alone bringing around flowers on the so-called "singles awareness day." I still passed out cards and conversations hearts to my friends every year, figuring it was as good an excuse as any to let them know I cared about them. Every year got a card apiece from my Grandma Pullan and Grandma Molen, sometimes with a couple dollars tucked inside. I must give my mother credit where credit is due as well. Every year she came up with ways to celebrate, from heart shaped pancakes in the morning to a beautiful Valentine's dinner that night. One year in junior high she bought a rose for me from the val-o-gram fundraiser the library was doing so that I could have a flower delivered to me on Valentine's day. I think I have the best mom in the world. She understands me more than I ever gave her credit for--especially where love is concerned.

The best valentines, though, were the ones I looked forward to from my father. One year it was a long-sleeved, v-neck purple shirt that I loved at once and wore for a long time afterwards. Another year he brought home a little heart shaped box of chocolates for each of the kids--red with Peanuts characters on the front. Another year it was a simple construction paper heart with a message written on the front which I now keep treasured in my doll cabinet, always reminding me that my father is proud of me and loves me dearly. Every year there was something. Every year, after yet another less-than-stellar Valentines Day at school, I would wait eagerly for my father to come home that evening, knowing that by the end of the day I would have at least one valentine. 

In recent years I have gotten pretty skilled at celebrating Valentine's Day on my own. I make sugar cookies, I invite friends over, I give my roommates and friends valentines, I do a nice dinner, I wear pink. This year I even went to the temple on Valentine's Day because it fell on a Thursday and thus coincided with my weekly Temple Night. These college years, I have seem my father at least once a week when he has work with the Provo courts--more some semesters when he taught at the law school. Every year I could count on a valentine and a beautiful, uplifting "I love you" and "I'm so proud of you, honey," though those are not Valentine's exclusive words--he says that almost every time he sees me. This year dad was in New Zealand with my brother Daniel for Daniel's graduation trip. But even though my dad was clear on the other side of the world, I still received my valentine.


"Just thought I would send you flowers and let you know how much I love you. Love, Dad."

I love you, too, Daddy. Thank you for always being my valentine.

Saturday, February 16, 2013

There And Back Again

Hello again, friends! Yes, I am still here, still alive, still well, and still blogging. The delay was for many reasons--Christmas, homework, teaching, and so on--but the chiefest and simplest one is that I am no longer in Jerusalem and life has caught up with me again.

I am adjusting. I have moved into a new apartment with four other girls. The one who was going to be my roommate up and decided all at once to serve a mission, so she is now preparing to labor in London and I have the room to myself. The extra space is nice, but the truth is that I miss having someone else to live with. The other girls are fantastic and I have been grateful for their friendship. Right away they welcomed me into their lives and made me feel right at home. I am starting my teaching program, which has been an extremely overwhelming process. Few days go by when I don't say to myself "I don't know if I can do this..." I have also been taking Writings of Isaiah from Sister Ann Madsen (who, as it happens, taught my mother religion when she was in Jerusalem), contemporary dance, basic vocal technique, ASL 201, and harp (yes! I am finally learning to play!). My teaching course is only first block, so in a couple weeks I will start taking adolescent development and multicultural education classes in its place.

My favorite of all so far is probably harp. I've wanted to learn to play for so long--I still can hardly believe my eyes when I sit down behind one of the school harps to practice. I have played for Katie a couple times, and across the board the experience was both terrifying (which she doesn't seem to understand some how--"What? It's just me!") and very helpful. She's been doing this a long time--both playing and teaching--and I have benefited from her guidance. I have also had the opportunity this last week to sit and listen to her practicing. I didn't realize 'til then how much I had missed hearing her play.

I have seen some of my Jerusalem friends--the J-ru Crew, as we've started to call it. We've had a couple parties for different occasions. Not everyone can make it, of course--some are in Hawaii, Idaho, or are graduated--but we've had some good numbers, as many as forty or fifty at a time at the most. I've hung out with small groups as well from time to time (think balloon volleyball with a piece of waxed dental floss for a net with Andrew and McKenzi and Mary and Michael--it's a blast). It's good to know that I have so many good friends to call on whenever I want support or friendly company.

The J-ru crew has now received a sum total of seven mission calls, with more in process or on the way (including Katie). We'll have Jerusalem folks all over the world by summer's end--from Russia to Japan to Guatemala to New York to Texas and beyond. I would love to join their number, but I am not sure whether that is where Heavenly Father wants me to go right now. I always wanted to be a missionary, so I expected the choice would be plain and simple. I have been surprised at how how hard it has been. I am trying to be patient, though. As a friend of mine said, it seems that all these BYU girls feel like they need to decide whether to serve before next period. That is not the case, though--there is time. I have started some of my paperwork so that either way I will be ready.

I heard from so many people who went to Jerusalem before me that they thought about it every day thereafter. They were right. I think about it always. Any time someone even mentions Israel, Jerusalem, Arabic, Galilee, or anything within a hundred mile radius of the Center I perk up. As I told my JC peers, it's probably a good thing the Gospel Doctrine rotation is on D&C this year, otherwise we would all be completely impossible (Teacher: Alright class, we're going to talk about Jericho today... / Me: Excuse me, I've been there, and...) The news I hear about Israel, Gaza, the West Bank, Egypt, and Syria is suddenly personal. Every time I read my scriptures there is something that brings back a memory from the Holy Land. The first time I went to the temple to do baptisms back in January, my first thought was that the painting of Galilee was about spot on while the one of the River Jordan looked nothing like it at all (though the image is still lovely, don't get me wrong). Every time I think of the resurrection or atonement, a small part of me goes back to the Garden Tomb or the olive trees of the Garden of Gethsemane. I think a part of my heart is always there, walking the city streets and the Mount of Olives.


"Oh, Jerusalem, if I forget thee..."

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Galilee: The Rest

Well, I am back to the JC and once again behind on my blog. I will be brief, seeing as I have much to do and not much time to do it in.

Day 10 was our trip to Akko and environs in West Galilee. We visited Chorazin and Sepphoris first. In Chorazin we talked about the Savior's teachings about the Pharisees--beams and motes, loving the uppermost rooms and best seats, all that sort of thing. There was a stone "Moses seat" in the synagogue. It was a replica (the real one is at the Israel Museum and I got to see it earlier this month) so we got to take turns sitting in it for a photo shoot. The highlight at Sepphoris was a lot of amazing tile mosaics, including one of a beautiful woman known as "the Mona Lisa of the Galilee." We hiked around there a fair bit, seeing the best of the buildings and mosaics, then had a full group picnic lunch (and I got white chocolate strawberry ice cream from the gift shop--I indulge sometimes). We also took a quick stop by a cistern, where we got out, saw the sights, and got back on in admirable paratrooper style.

Our last stop was the city of Akko--once an Israelite city, then a crusader capitol. We started out by watching a very... interesting... video of an animated bean pole sized knight and rather plump horse going around the crusader ruins and gift shops and tourist attractions and earning medals for it. Also, they called the city "Acre"--as in a piece of land--instead of Akko or even the French name Jean d'Acre (Ak-reh), and I must say this discrepency drove me a little crazy at the time. We then walked through the old crusader passages ourselves (sans crusader era cartoons), which was much better than watching the characters do it. We had free time to wander around the sea side before heading back. I bought some fresh-squeezed pomegranate juice, took some great pictures, and climbed around on the rocks and the ancient walls by the Mediterranean sea. Paul busied himself on the rocks taking glamour pictures on the rocks of a few of the girls who wanted them. "You have to choose your own rock. You have to own the rock." We hurried back to Galilee for our last night at Ein Gev, making it back with an hour to spare. Jackson and Bradley, my apartment's home teachers, gave us our lesson there by the sea. Bradley started out by asking us a question about Christmas traditions, which each of us then talked about--but that meant the topic of conversation was more interesting to passers by, it would seem, because we got two add-ons to our group who listened in on our lesson before finally scooting off when they realized we were being home taught.

That night we had our final bonfire, where we all talked and ate smores and and sang songs with Paul's guitar and just had a fantastic time. I sat and talked to Katie while Ashley Wright gave me a shoulder massage, laughed with Mary (including teasing her a little for accidentally missing the home teaching), sat on the sand and listened to Paul's playing, chatted around some, and talked with Aliseea down by the water about more personal and spiritual things. I love the people I am with on this program. I am going to miss them so much.

Day 11 started out with our trip to Mt. Carmel, where we had a devotional near a church commemorating Elijah's contest with the priests of Baal. We sat among the trees and stones in the cool morning air and read the story to ourselves, then had a discussion about it with Brother Schade. We talked about Elijah's faith and courage, standing up for the one true God of Israel, entirely alone against over four hundred priests of Baal. That story is one of my favorites in the Old Testament. We heard a bit of screaming and cheering from somewhere a ways off, which I for one shrugged off as being the other class doing their reenactment of the contest (because Brother Judd has a thing for skits). We then went into the little church and joined to other class in singing a few hymns. It was just after the singing that Katie informed me that the screaming was because Mary and Michael Stallings had kissed in front of the entire class. The last thing I had heard from Mary about the two of them was that she had let him know she wasn't as interested as he was. Therefore, my reaction was something along the lines of: "WHAT?!? Excuse me--WHAT?! Tell me--oh, never mind, I'll make you explain later." Which I did--and I'll get there later. We also enjoyed the beautiful view of the surrounding valleys from a platform atop the church. I can see why prophets from years past have come to mountain tops to be close to God.

Our next stop was Haifa. We paused for a few minutes to overlook the headquarters and temple of Baha'i, an offshoot religion of Islam that I had never heard of until about half an hour before we got there. The grounds we were looking at were gorgeous and the temple was lovely--no Salt Lake Temple, of course, but sort of Dome of the Rock reminiscent.

After that we had a really special stop--the old Templer cemetery in Haifa. Templer refers not to the Knight's Templar, but to a group of German Christians who came to the Holy Land to wait it out until a new temple could be built and the second coming could come about. There we saw not only the graves of the German immigrants, but also the tombstones of several latter day saint converts and two Mormon missionaries, Adolf Hagg and John Clarke. Adolf Hagg was called away from his wife and family in his late twenties to serve German speaking in southern Europe (Instanbul, etc.), then eventually was tranfered to Haifa. Before he arrived there, he saw a vision of a certain street and a man coming out to meet him. As soon as he got to Haifa, he walked thtrough the city, searching. At nightfall, he found the street--and there, out of one of the houses, came a German man rushing out to meet him. The man was a templer immigrant named Georg (last name escapes me--I'll look it up), a blacksmith, and he too had seen a vision in which Elder Hagg came to him and shared with him a message about God. He and his family became the first converts in the holy land since the days of Peter and Paul (and Georg became the first branch president). Elder Hagg succummed to illness while in Haifa and was burried at the cemetery there, not far from the family he baptized. The other missionary was Elder John Clarke, who left all his future plans and college education to answer a call to serve German speaking in Haifa. He was out only a year before also succumbing to illness. He and Elder Hagg are buried near one another, and both graves are marked with a broken collumn, representing a life cut short. We visited each tomb one by one and Brother Judd told us their stories. At his request, we stood near the missionaries' markers and sang "I'll go where you want me to go." I shamelessly admit that I cried--and I wasn't the only one. It was so moving to sing that hymn in honor of two missionaries who had answered Heavenly Father's every call and made every sacrifice--even into the next life. They are heroes to me--shining examples of following the Lord in all things, even to the last.

Our last site of the day and of our Galilee adventure was Caesarea Maritima--the same Caesarea where Paul the apostle was imprisoned and declared the gospel for Felix and Festus and King Agrippa. We watched a significantly better movie than Akko's, which gave a great scope for how the place has changed over the years, especially with the buildling of Herod's great retaining wall out at sea, which essentially created a man-made harbor. The idea was to provide a port for ships so that Caesarea's trade and commerce value would go up (it worked). We toured among the ruins, making a concentrated effort to stay ahead of the Judd class. We talked about Paul's message to King Agrippa and the things that had happened here in this city. We saw our last ancient theatre, a huge hippodrome (including a metal frame style model chariot, in which a couple girls did a picture in a Hunger Games pose), and a smattering of crusader ruins, which I explored with Hannah. We didn't stay long--an hour or so, perhaps--and there wasn't an awful lot to see. What there was, however, was amazing to me, if only because I love the stories of Paul--his testimony, his mission, his love for others, and his unfailing service to God--and it was a special experience to be in the place where some of it happened, as with Ephesus and Assos. It was good today to see the examples of so many missionaries--Adolf Hagg, John Clarke, and the apostle Paul.

After a quick wade in the Mediterranean (as well as seashell collecting and a picture of the nearby Roman aqueduct) we piled into the busses and headed home to Jerusalem. We got home to find a feast waiting for us in the Oasis. Our chef Ahmed and the rest of the JC kitchen crew (bless all their hearts) had made us a Thanksgiving dinner spread. It was rather different from the dinner my Grandma makes, but it was all delicious and all very much appreciated. Turkey is hard to come by in the middle east, so that in itself was a very rare treat indeed. Ahmed had also made potatoes, stuffing, rolls, pitas, hummus, yams, vegetables, and even a whole chilled salmon. There was also a whole variety of desserts--and knowing that it was our favorite, he had included pently of ice cream. It was a true feast for which we were all grateful. The whole group gave Ahmed and company standing ovation after dessert.

Galilee was an incredible experience. I learned so much and came closer to my Savior--though very much in His way and time. I am so grateful for the opportunity I had to live where the Savior lived for a little while. It made me see why He loved it so much and how it inspired some of His teachings. Galilee is one of the most beautiful places I have ever been and it will always be a treasure to me.

That said, I will say that we were all glad to be home. I was happy to get back to my own beds and my usual roommates that night. Annie and I cornered Mary after dinner and interrogated her about the kiss. We saw the recording (before I tell this story, you should know first that Mary sang a song for the informal talent show called "Let's Give Them Something to Talk About" with words about the JC. That is all). The reenactment involved a parody of the battle of wits from "The Princess Bride," with Jay as Vizzini/the priests of Baal, Michael as Wesley/Elijah, and Mary as Buttercup/the children of Israel ("I have to discern from what I know of Baal--is he the kind of god who would light his own bullock or his enemy's?" and also "Ha ha! You only think I lost! I lit my bullock on fire when your back was turned!"). The skit in itself was hillarious--but the best part was the end, when Michael removed Mary's blindfold and asked, "Well, Mary, what should we do now?" to which she responded, "Let's give them something to talk about, Michael," whereupon he kissed her full on the mouth. Whoever was holding the camera panned the crowd's reactions and it was a scream. Aparently they had gotten together and kissed for the first time in Galilee, and figured rather than keeping things secret or gradually integrating hand holding into their daily activities, they could show everybody their relationship status with a bang. No kidding--was it ever!

Thus ended the Galilee trip--with romantic fireworks and Thanksgiving dinner. What an adventure!

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Galilee Day 9: Tels, Fortresses, and Testimony


As long as we’re doing field trip days, I’m just going to tell you the basics from site to site. It’s easier for me and more organized for you, so let’s do it.

Hazor was amazing. I did my site report on it, so I was terribly excited to see it, and it fulfilled my hopes. I was given the opportunity to tell everybody about the site when we first got there. The city is massive. The upper city, on which the citadel sits, encompasses about thirty acres, while the lower city sprawling out into the valley encompasses some 180 acres. Obviously very little of that is excavated, but it’s still amazing to think about. We walked among the ruins, looking at the water system and the watch tower and the six chambered Solomonic gate. I got to see a destruction layer in the citadel that may have been the layer left by the Israelites in their conquest of the north. Hazor then was one of the greatest cities the whole region, known in the Bible as “the head of all those kingdoms.” It was immense, heavily populated (some 25-30,000 people), well fortified, and very wealthy. Not much remains of it now, but what there is remains as a testament to its former glory. It just goes to show, I suppose, that the Lord’s will cannot be stopped by any one wall or city or kingdom, no matter how great.

Next Stop: Tel Dan. Dan was another great city, though primarily in its Israelite days. It held a very important position, being one of the strongest cities on the northern border, such that the kingdom of the people of Israel was said to stretch “from Dan to Beer Sheba.” Dan today is more of a wildlife park. Hiking the trails through the trees to get to the top of the tel was almost like hiking in Olympic National Park in Washington. The trails were cool and lush and shady, cris-crossing over a little stream from time to time. At the top we saw a steel outline of a massive altar, meant to give the viewer an idea of how big Jeroboam’s idolatrous altar might have been. It was huge, at least eight feet high—definitely meant for attention and intimidation. We talked about Jeroboam’s sin and Israel’s constant slide into idolatry from then on. Jesus Christ is constantly calling them back to Him all through the Old Testament. He never stopped giving them chances until there was nothing but punishment and consequence left. The way the Bible paints it makes it sound vengeful or angry sometimes, but that’s not how it is at all. Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ love their children and who them great mercy in giving them every opportunity to return and try again.

Thanks for letting me wax eloquent, there. Back to Tel Dan. We explored some more ruins (some restored and some not). The best part was seeing a gate that dates back to the days of Abraham. The scriptures say that Abraham came to Dan (which was then called Laish) to rescue his nephew Lot. If Abraham actually entered the city, that gate was the one he entered through. That was a very cool thing to see. It’s probably the most ancient piece of history I have come into contact with.

After we finally got down from the Tel, we had a lunch break with the other class. It was good to have time to sit in the shade and breathe some air and enjoy one another’s company. I talked with Brother and Sister Squires for a bit (the music couple from the center). They are one of the funnest couples I think I’ve ever met. Fifty-six years of marriage lets you get to know your companion very well indeed—and I think the Squires have fun with it.

Our next stop was Caesarea Phillipi (aka Banias), where Jesus promised Peter the keys of the kingdom. We weren't there very long, but the place was beautiful and I really enjoyed it. We saw a few remains of buildings and pagan temples in the area, as well as a beautiful little river that flowed down down through the site to the entrance. We sat in a little river by the river and talked about what had happened here in Caesarea--where, against a backdrop of pagan idol worship, Peter proclaimed to Jesus "Thou art the Christ, the son of the living God." Peter would eventually give his life standing up for that knowledge. He is a powerful example of testimony and of giving your all for the Lord, down to the very last. We sang a couple hymns there and enjoyed the warm day and the beautiful little river gleaming in the sun.

After Caesarea, we drove up many hills to get to the ruins of Nimrod’s Castle, a crusader-turned-Muslim fortress high on a hill. It was awesome. I got to explore secret passages and underground rooms and climb a watchtower to overlook the hill. It was cruel and unusual that we were only given twenty-five minutes there—we could have spent all day. I think my favorite moments were hiking with others who were pretending to be knights. Neil even had Mary make a video of him sprinting down from the tower, halting in front of the camera, and gasping “Dragons! In the East Tower! Couldn’t save them… we lost the entire Schade division…” and then collapsing on the ground. Neil is the best. He makes me laugh all the time.

Our last site was Har Bental, a mountain overlooking the border between Israel and Syria. Obviously we did not enter Syria, but I can now say that I have seen it. We looked at the road to Damascus and talked about Paul's miraculous conversion story. We got to walk at our leisure through the trenches at the top, which have been preserved in memorial of the Six Days War. We also were able to go down through a tunnel and into an underground bunker. I was down there by myself, and the stillness was eerie. It was hard to imagine the place filled with the sound of gunfire or echoing with distant explosions. It was very cold up there on the mountain, and my hands were officially numb for the first time since March, but the view was spectacular and Brother Judd's devotional was wonderful.

That night at Ein Gev, we enjoyed a delicious dinner highlighted by the dessert--chocolate and vanilla ice cream hearts (so yummy). That evening we had two bonfires (even and odd numbers according to your number on the bus count, just to mix things with the two classes) where we had testimony meetings. I have been able to bear my testimony a couple times while here in Israel, so I didn't bear mine on that occasion. It was good to listen to everyone else's, though. The spirit was present and I felt my own testimony confirmed by the experiences and examples of others.

I've been making a goal to read through one of the chapters in the Book of Mormon about Jesus Christ (as recommended by Preach My Gospel) every day. That evening I did some of the end of third Nephi. I love Nephi's testimony of Jesus Christ. He teaches the doctrine of Christ so clearly--in plainness, as he says--and he shows such love for those he is teaching. I love the Book of Mormon--I have come to know the Savior and my Heavenly Father from reading from its pages.

That's all for now--more soon!

Galilee Day 8: Mount Tabor, Meggido, and a Brief Dip

Monday was another field trip day—to Mt. Tabor (traditional site of the Transfiguration), Nain, Megiddo (or what’s left of it), and a good swimming spot.

Mt. Tabor: A beautiful spot, especially in the clear morning air. We talked a little about the Transfiguration, as well as the battle that took place with Barak and the prophetess Deborah somewhere around this area. The story of Barak is one I didn’t know very well, but one that I have come to love. Barak showed great faith in going out to battle against the Canaanites, knowing full well that he was outmatched and outnumbered from the start. Because of his faith, however, the Lord was able to work through him to accomplish His purposes and win the day.

We had a special treat at the Church of the Transfiguration. One of the monks there, Father Anton, gave us a tour of some of the generally unseen areas of the church and grounds. He did this for us because he met one of our students a few years back who served her mission in Poland, where he is from, and she made a good impression on him. I think he was particularly inclined to our group because Brother Schade also served in Poland, so they two were able to converse in Polish and Brother Schade was able to translate for us. Father Anton also says he likes to hear us sing. We sang “The Spirit of God” for him, and then he took us through some normally locked gates to see the area around back and underneath the church, where there were Byzantine and crusader era ruins to see. The area underneath was especially cool. It was cave-like and dim, and there were a few ancient tombs there, carved directly into the stone. At the far end there was a grate leading up to the church above, under which was a great pile of folded pieces of paper containing prayers and blessings scribbled down and pushed through the gaps. Father Anton gave us permission to look at them if we liked, and I did read one myself (the first one I found in English). It felt like touching something sacred, seeing all those prayers hidden away in the ancient caverns below.

We emerged from the depths and went back up into the church to observe the architecture and mosaics. Father Anton also took us to see a small building outside the church that housed relics from the Crusader and Muslim eras, including some clay grenades used by the crusaders (recipe: round clay container, carve with symbols of your cause, fill with gunpowder, insert wick, light ‘er up, and throw in a hurry). There was also an extensive collection of Muslim coinage, some from the days of famous rulers whose names I recognized—Chaliph Abu Bakr, Salah ad-din, and others. It was very neat and we felt extremely privileged to be able to see it. Thank you, Father Anton.

Nain: Here we stayed only briefly. There is a small church there dedicated to the miracle of a widow’s son being raised from the dead by the Savior. The trouble is that the church is in the middle of major renovations—which translated means that the groups who come five years from now may be able to enjoy it, but for us it was rather a lot of plaster. Still, we were allowed to see it, so we counted our blessings—the other group hadn’t got there at all the day before.

Meggido: This is the tel and ruins that remain of a once-great Canaanite city. Meggido was a major city for much of the Old Testament. When it was conquered by the Egyptians, the Pharoh wrote that “The taking of Meggido is as the taking of a thousand cities.” What we saw was the ruins of many buildings, including a large altar and a set of stables. My favorite part of the site, though, was the amazing view. Tel Meggido overlooks the lush green Jezreel valley, and I can honestly say it was one of the most beautiful views I have ever seen. There were plains and rolling hills stretching out for miles, all bedecked in more shades of green than I could have imagined. My friend Lindsay from my singles ward told me the Jezreel Valley was one of her favorite places when she visited Israel a couple years back, so I was looking forward to it. It didn’t disappoint.

There also we talked about Jezebel and Ahab and Jehu and prophecies and dogs eating people and all of that (since we wouldn’t be going to Tel Jezreel where it actually happened). When it was time to leave we came down from the tel via the water system tunnels, which was very cool. I have really enjoyed exploring ancient tunnels and secret passageways.

The Swimming Hole: OK, it’s actually called ------, but I think my way sounds better and is frankly more accurate. Our last stop was to a river-like swimming area, complete with caves and waterfalls of various sizes (which we did not slide down or jump over because it would have hurt, but which we did play around and splash in). I swam around some, practiced synchronized swimming with some other girls, stood under the waterfall and let it give me a back massage (it also stole my hair tie—whoops) and stood around with some others and waited for the little fishies to nibble on our toes (they did—and it tickled! You could tell when somebody got a bite because they would squeal or laugh and jump all of a sudden). It was a lot of fun.

Back at Ein Gev: Something else I did today? I finished memorizing the Living Christ! I’ve been at it for two weeks or so, and today I finally did it. I sat on the beach by the Sea of Galilee, memorized the last paragraph, and recited the whole thing for the first time (with Mary checking me for accuracy on my now weather-worn copy). We had FHE that evening (Pictionary with another group. Because of general business and a lack of preparation, my group was doing “hobo FHE”—be homeless or get another group to adopt you). Afterwards I found Katie and we went down to the beach together. She was the one who got me inspired to do this whole project (she’s had it memorized for years from when she did it with her family), so I was very excited to say it for her. I recited it to her, only needing a little correction. We then sat and talked about things for a while, especially about Galilee and testimonies and boys and deciding whether to serve a mission. Katie is one of the few people in the world who I truly feel I can talk to about almost anything. I was so grateful to have a few minutes to confide in her and to hear her feelings as well. We both expressed interest in watching a movie, so we bundled up in blankets and watched “The Court Jester” on my back porch (taking a brief break for Laurann to teach us a quick missionary lesson). It was a perfect evening. What with the classes being so separate and there being so many people to be with, I haven’t had too many opportunities to talk with Katie one on one. I felt very blessed to have had those precious hours that night. There’s nothing like being with a good friend.

That’s all for now! More to come! Shalom and lots of love!