"ABCD: Always Be Connecting the Dots"
 |
| My brother David, saying goodbye to grandparents on his way to Holland, spring, 1979 |
"You have to
live in the 46th ward! It is the best
ward at BYU," were my brother's sage words of advice 34 years ago, as he departed for his mission and I was working to decide what housing I would live in, which dorm to
choose. "Besides, I know some
amazing girls who will be living there. They have been called to be the new
Relief Society presidency for the fourth floor of U-hall and they will do a
fantastic job!"
Who was I to argue about this? What did I know about college life or what
was ahead? I took him at his word, though some of my high school friends picked
the cooking dorms, I headed for U-hall, fourth floor, Deseret Towers
Waiting for me were Leslie Rigby, president,
a counselor, Jeaniemarie Nash, and I am not sure if it was secretary or another
counselor, Cindy Hansen. Jeanie was from
 |
| (Here are pictures of BYU women students now...don't have my college scrapbooks scanned) |
They told us when we received our assignments (or callings)
to help one another as visiting teaching supervisors (V.T.S.'s--where some of
the freshmen organized, encouraged and helped their hall mates to visit each
other frequently to offer support to them.) "This is like a call to be a
mini Relief Society president. We are
counting on you. You will have some
girls who miss home. You will have some
sisters who really need a friend. You
will have homework. You will have other
things to think about. But please help them!"
So they did, and we did. And we learned that Relief Society was not just for old ladies. Fast forward six years. I had been on a mission. I had married and would be expecting Kristen my final year at BYU. Again, I was called to be a VTS. And I was given a new companion. She looked familiar. She was familiar. Her name was Cindy. Only this time it was Cindy Hansen White--the same Cindy as my freshman year, only with an additional name and a husband. This time our visits were to newly married neighbors. And Cindy was faithful. We did our thing, and we tried to do it consistently. I remember thinking as we worked together, "This young wife really has it together." She was teaching classes through the high schools continuing education, where I remember learning from Cindy that you can microwave oatmeal (from scratch) and just about everything else. I graduated. And I think Cindy's husband finished and they headed to
.JPG)
Well, downstairs, there were some huge rolls of
sewed-together towels to collect water when the youth step out of the baptismal
font. Because they consisted of 20 some
towels connected together, the concoction overloaded the washers. With water, they were simply too heavy. They sat for weeks on the counter, and it
sounded like they were going to surplus the rolls. "Don’t throw them away!" was a plea
from a certain missionary
sister who could use some rags (purchasing them at 6 for $120 lempiras or $6
downtown.) Over the last few days, we
have proceeded to "descoser" or unstitch this batch of four huge rolls to become
maybe 20 expensive towels. Some were
cut, needed reinforcing, and I was out of thread. "Sister Cazier! (leaving) Do you have any thread?" She did.
She sent it over. While I waited for the thread, a big group emerged from the recommend desk. "Norteamericanos." (Yes, I am one, too!) I decided to take an elevator detour with
them up, on my way downstairs, to deliver the thread. "How can we help?"
 |
| This is the couple, with their returned missionary, who returned to Honduras to find his permanent companion |
"My husband and I speak no Spanish," explained the
pretty blonde woman, who looked like she had stepped out of a magazine. The president was at the edge of the elevator
as we stepped out. I explained to him
and Val what I could, and headed down. I
heard the San Pedro family had niños... It was maybe 1:30 p.m. and I was waiting to
be called to walk over to the nursery. As
I helped to locate headsets for the couple, our matron asked if I would
accompany the session, which I did. The
bride sat with her mother. I was able to
help both. The bride was maybe a size
two, very petite, very beautiful--the room was packed, with 27 sisters (seats
for 20 women) and there was one attendant.
Me. It worked out okay, a little
busy, but the spirit was sweet, as it is whenever there is someone new, and
especially a marriage. I watched the
young man as he tenderly helped his sweetheart, and then asked me to help
her.
At the end, I was helping the first woman first, and missed being in the position to help the
norteamericano sister. Sister Basset was
invited to take my place. And the
norteamericano sister came to the front and waited. And waited.
Finally, I traded Sister Bassett places, invited the norteamericano sister
up, helped her along with a norteamericano brother--my Val! After this, we were able to help a cute, very
blonde young sister missionary, fairly new to Honduras . Both Val and I held back tears--this young
girl was so reminiscent of our 19 year old--blonde, blonde, blonde.
Following the session, I started to help in another station,
but I looked at my watch. It was close
to 4:30, Val's hour to eat and I wondered if I could find him in the
comedor. I begged for "just ten
minutes!" and was allowed to go. He was having dinner. I joined him for my full ten minutes; then
both of us hurried to our stations.
Well, on my way, a coordinator requested that I help the new bride prepare
so she could go outside and have pictures.
No problem. However, while she
was occupied with some other things, I took the opportunity to tell her new
mother in law about a couple in our ward in a similar situation, who might be
able to counsel them on immigration issues.
I asked the mother in law if she would like to write her email address
and I would send her their contact information.
Funny--a few winters ago, a sister from the general Relief Society board came to our ward and told us the key to good visiting teaching was "ABCD: Always Be Connecting Dots!" Well, somehow the dots connected when I looked down at the email address to find something awe-inspiring. "I know you!"
It was
Cindy Hansen White, the same young woman who had introduced me into Relief
Society thirty plus years ago, again helped initiate me into a married student
ward and been my visiting teaching companion twenty five years ago. It was my turn to help back…I did my best in
Spanish (and with such few workers in the temple) tried to make their special
experience on this marriage day pleasant and memorable in happy ways.
The rest of the day flew past…as I worked in small cubicles, my mind was drawn again to memories I had with my grandparents over the years--receiving flannel pajamas that matched the cousins,
sewing clothing
together, watching the passion play, having them come to our graduations. I thought about what it is like to be a good grandparent--someone who helps the
rising generation desire to learn Spanish, to try to get good grades, to try to
learn to play the piano at an age greater than youth or teenage-hood. I remembered helping to dress my grandmother
prior to her burial, and the words came to me quoted in a recent conference from
Paul, as his mission was drawing to a close:
"I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course. I have kept the faith." (2 Timothy
4:7)
When I was in high school, some friends and I loved reading
the story about the sons of Helaman, how they met when their missions were
finished and were very happy to see each other…not only just because they could
meet again, but that they had so many beautiful, joyous things in common to
share. This, I think, is the ultimate. Families can be together forever…this is a gospel truth. However, the bonds created in families can extend further…with fellow students, working together in the workplace, in wards, neighborhoods and into our communities. It is what, for me, makes getting up each day worth doing. How good it its to have friends who remember who they are and what they have to do, and include us in their doings.
.JPG)
Val reached Riley on Monday and listened to Riley's
presentation to his sixth grade class:
"Television is bad for you and a waste of time. There are so many
more important things to do, like reading and playing with your
friends." Val told him that when he
was younger, he had not been taught that.
(Val told him that he watched more television than was healthy and he
was super glad that Riley was learning the value of using his mind.) "Well, Grandpa, you watched 10 hours
this weekend." And right he is. We surely did, even though our television
(along with Laurene's computer) is on the blink. We hooked Val's computer up and saw every
Conference session available. But the
big thing we learned, at least from Elder Uchtdorf, is that it is good to learn
things from your grandchildren (and children,) and that we are! Number one, limit your screen time.
So, to do this, we are planning a trip to
Kristen Archuleta found us links for places to stay. And Maria is trying to link up eventually to traveling parents--hoping for a passport, and hoping for sooner than later. It is these links, firm and true, links to good values, to people we love, and to generations earlier and later that help us stay connected with who we are and what we have to do. Glad that we have each other to help us connect the dots! Blessings to you, Laurene and Val
+-+Copy.JPG)
