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Missionary Report

5/31/2015

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Lend me your imagination for a moment.
Put yourself in the following place and time.

Date:  1 October 2014
Time:  9:00 a.m.
Cast members:   Lance, Teresa, Chick Hislop
Scene:  MTC Parking lot, walking towards doors of Missionary Training Center

Chick:  “Mom, I’m scared.”
Me:  Speechless…………What does one say?    A zillion things come to mind--
Ø  You’ll be fine
Ø  Heavenly Father will take care of you
Ø  It will be a great experience
But everything echoed tritely in my head…
“I know son,” I said lamely, “I know.

WHY?    Why would my incredibly intelligent, amazingly strong, and wonderfully compassionate son go on a mission?
·         He was not comfortable, nor particularly skilled, at chatting with people
·         He would much, MUCH rather spend time with a book than with a human
·         He had a good job in Roy and a room in the Honors dorm at USU where he could “talk nerd” with people who shared his interests

Why would he do something that was so foreign and frightening?

 The answer is described in Joshua
                22:5   “But take diligent heed to do the commandments and the law…to love the Lord your God and to walk in all his ways and to keep the commandments and to cleave unto him and to serve him with all your heart and with all your soul.”

 Chick is serving a mission because he loves the Lord.

And, because he loves the Lord, he decided to obey the commandment to serve a mission, to serve Him for two years with his heart and soul.

 And, how has that turned out for him?

Let me share excerpts from his letters….  (Original spelling and lack of punctuation preserved.)

6 October 2014
for the first time i  wAS EXCITED FOR GENERAL CONFERENCE AND NOT AS a time in which i would get to sleep a lot. and perhaps as a consequence I got more out of tyhis general conference than out of any other two.

3 November 2014
I love all of you but I am writing this with one hand because my other had is massively huge and hard to move it happened after I saw my companion get hit by a car his bike is dead he isn't quite yet. I am really worried about him. we have had a lot of problems this week.      okay it isn't like I made it sound but it is all true.

right after I wrote you last week I saw my companion ride out in front of a car and his bike got smashed and crushed like a pop can he just stepped of and out of the way and didn't get hurt in the least. we actually got a member present in part because of it.  

29 December 2014
I know that I am doing the right thing. I know that god lives I know the book of Mormon is the word of god. andi know that familiies can be together forever.

I love you all ,    elder hislop

19 January 2015
dear family and friends.
this week has been very interesting. yesterday I had my first major anti-Mormon contact. and surprisingly it was A MASSIVE testimony builder. the lack of the spirit while he was talking was so incredibly apparent. I knew that I never, never wanted to feel like that again. I feels so good to be always have the spirit to be with me. I love it.

26 January 2015
 I love the scipures and in particular I love the book of Mormon and in that I love the book of moroni. I love the power that comes and is evident in moroni's never giving up at the very beginning of the book you see what he has gone though and the book of moroni has some of the most powerful;  verse and sermon in scripture including moroni's promise and the sacrament prayers and the most powerful sermon on charity that is given. but what I love the most about the book is that he didn't give up though he could of.

love elder hislop


2 March 2015
I have been trying harder than ever to be a open to the spirit. as I try to learn. I am coming to understand faith in a way that I never before understood.

from elder hislop

16 March 2015
on Saturday we were on exchange again. with the zone leaders and during the very first few minutes of our exchange. we had been invited to a party with nothing but non-members….when we knocked on the door someone opened the door and said I don't think we are interested but let me get the man of the house. he showed up and invited us in and we learned that it was basically the entire congregation of another church. we talked with some people and elder cottle, who I was with, and I talked about what we believe. then the pastor of the church came over and started to try and bash with us but in response all we did was testify of Christ and he got frustrated  because we didn't engage. it was a great experience.

sincerely elder hislop

4 May 2015
dear family and friends
we had a very slow and frustrating week our appointments all fell though we spent a lot of time looking for less actives and service and paperwork all of which are necessary but I didn't feel productive while doing it. but we had two amazing miracles we found a family while tracting that is both interested and quite excited and we had a less active come into church and say he wants to come back and make more time for god in his life and that he wants his non-member fiance to learn with him. so it is truly an amazing miracle two in a week god blesses his missionaries and  i am forever thankful for all that he gave us. I know that he lives and it is amazing.


sincerely elder hislop

11 May 2015
dear family and friends
okay I forgot one more miracle on Sunday.  as we were walking to find some one else to help and teach others. we were walking across a bridge when we saw a thre car pile up. naturally we went and tried to help the best we could. and the very first person that we talked to said ( and she had a lot of tattoos) elders and immediately put us to work helping her out…. as we stayed there we learned that she was a member and when we talked to the husband he said Quote " I am not a member of your church


what a incredible blessing to be able to help out a pmf in their hour of need at the exact right time. they even asked us for a prayer. it was a fantastic miracle.

18 May 2015
dear mom
mission has been one of the , if not the greatest experience of my my life I will be foreever greatful that I was able to come. from the fond memories of my first companion's bike getting run over by a car and never being able to get to this one house without getting a flat to this time when I write you to tracting into families that are incredibly anti-Mormon. i am grateful for the opportunity to come. the members who feed us and treat us like family the investigators who want to stay as investigators and not progress. to those that truly do wnat to change and wish to come closer to god. and of course those people. who when they drive past yell out their widows "hey satan"


Because our darling son is not a prolific writer and because I have often have questions that are unanswered in the text of his emails, I send him a weekly set of questions that he has been very faithful about answering.  Here is a sampling of some of my questions and his answers.

QUESTIONS and ANSWERS

§  Are you brushing your teeth every day?
§  yes often twice or three times a day I want my breath to be fresh.

§  Would you rather clean the bathroom or your bedroom?
§  no prefernece they would both be enjoyable.

§  Do you still dislike pizza?  And how often does members feed you pizza?
§  yes about on average twice a week sometimes as much as three times a week.

§  Have you ever been scared on your mission?   If so, when and why?
§  yes i don't like to takl to people

§  What characteristic of Christ have you best emulated this week?  
$ patience.

§  What has caused you to exercise patience?  (See answer to above question)
§  nothing in partivcular but I feelt less likely to push and to resist and to trust though trials. just feelt it grow in side.

§  What three things are great about being on a mission?
§  one the poeple I see so much of teh best of humanity. the time to study. two I have so much time to study I learn so much more about the scriptures than I ever have before three the joy that such little thing bring into my life.

§  If you could trade places with anyone for a day, with whom would you trade places?
§  no one I don't want to be any body else

Finish these sentences please. 
1) The thing most people do not know about me as a missionary is how much I struggle to express emotion
2) The best smell in Washington state is bacon( kinda in  the world to).
3) Four words I love to hear are 7 O'clock sounds good.
4) The thing that frustrates me most in the mission is flakey investigators( darn agency)
5) . The best thing I did to prepare for my mission was decide i was going to go.

Chick (Elder Hislop) went on a mission because he loves and trusts God.  He believed the promises found in Joshua
·        1:5 I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee
·         1:7 Only be thou strong and very courageous, that thou may observe to do according to all the law…turn not from the right hand or to the left, that thou mayest prosper whthersoever though goest.
·         1:8 … and then thou shalt have good success.

“Thou shalt have good success"
Elder Hislop has had “good success”

It has not been without trials….
·         He had a companion who was as fanatic about sports as Chick is about “nerd” stuff and who was as disinterested in “nerd” stuff as Chick is in sports.
·         To the best of my knowledge, he has yet to have an investigator that he taught get baptized.
·         Talking to people is still a struggle for him
Nonetheless, and UNQUESTIONABLY, he has had good success.
But his success is not the only success that has come as a result of his mission service.

We, his family, have also been blessed.

I find that with our boy gone, God is taking care of me.   And He is doing a great job.      There is an increased measure of peace in our home and, perhaps most significantly, in my heart; less angst, more tranquility.  Peace is priceless.

God is doing a great job of taking care of me.   He is also doing a great job of taking care of our missionary.  My son—the young man who was largely unfamiliar with the working end of a toothbrush, who spent as much time in fantasy worlds as he did the real world, who would much rather be reading than working—is becoming a man.    He is firmly planted in the physical world and completely committed to helping others understand the spiritual world.   And he is working hard—really hard—and loving it. 

He is in God’s hands and I trust those hands.   Nightly, in my prayers, I thank my Father in Heaven for taking my son, for allowing him to serve, for giving him experience, opportunities, and challenges.  God is doing a much better job with my boy than I ever could.   Thank you, dear Heavenly Father, thank you!

So, what is the take home message from all this?
         NOT that Chick is doing great, which he i
·        NOT that being a Missionary Mom is wonderful, which it is
·        NOT EVEN that going on a mission is the right thing to do, which it is
The message is that we follow Joshua’s council
Joshua 22:5   “But take diligent heed to do the commandments and the law…to love the Lord your God and to walk in all his ways and to keep the commandments and to cleave unto him and to serve him with all your heart and with all your soul.”

And, if we do, the Lord promises
·         1:5 I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee
·         1:7 Only be thou strong and very courageous, that thou may observe to do according to all the law…turn not from the right hand or to the left, that thou mayest prosper whthersoever though goest.
·         1:8 … and then thou shalt have good success.

The Lord’s promises are real.   Of this I testify in Christ's name.


Love,
Teresa


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Friends

5/25/2015

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“Levi is so nice,” Miles told me.  “Do you know why Mom?”  [Questioning look from me]  “Because we had a drawing and he put 3 tickets in and I put 5 tickets in and all 3 of his tickets were drawn out before any of my tickets were drawn and I was really sad and he offered to give me one of his prizes and I said –No, it’s okay, that he didn’t have to give me his prize—and so he said a prayer for me that my ticket would be drawn.    Levi is so nice.”

I love it that Miles has friends who pray for him.

Friday Tanah left the house at 5:30 a.m.   She and her friends went to the temple to do baptisms for the dead.  Two boys in their friend group had been endowed that week and were able to vicariously baptize and confirm the girls.   Friday afternoon Tanah and many of those same friends left for an overnight, “senior trip” [Tanah is not a senior but most of her friends are] to Lava Hot Springs where they tented, hot pooled, and waded canals to pick flowers.

I love it that Tanah has friends who go to the temple together and who I trust to camp together.

Grace went to the bank with a friend this week.   He skipped into the building.   When he was done with his banking, they joined hands and, together, skipped out.

I love it that Grace and her dad are such good friends that they can join hands and skip out of the bank together.  (Grace also has other friends who would skip with her though, thankfully, not any—yet—that hold her hand!)

What a priceless, priceless blessing good friends are!   

I have been blessed by good friends all my life.   At the Glen Vista home, in my pre-school years, it was Susan Connor who blessed my life; we played “horses” in her log cabin house and broke crayons together because her older sister, Robin, got the whole crayons and Susan inherited the broken ones.   It was in Susan’s house that I watched Armstrong walk on the moon.

In elementary, when we lived in the Walker place, Sina Alacano was my almost constant companion; her parents lived across the pasture and we practically lived in each other’s houses.   We played “animals”, Monopoly, and countless imagination games in the tops of trees and the catacombs of the barn.

 Junior High brought a move to Madras where Belinda Close was my soul mate.   We invented a secret language, she doctored my shin splints, and, our freshman year, we stalked the senior guys together.  When the family moved to Idaho, leaving Belinda was the hardest thing I’d done in my life to that point.  

 Idaho brought a new set of friends.   The class of 1983 embraced me as one of their own.   Almost indescribable, completely un-purchasable, and validating-ly life-changing were the overwhelming feelings of acceptance, inclusion, and love I felt when, as a sophomore, they gave me an ovation at the end of track season and when, as a junior, they put me on the homecoming royalty float.  Gina Cliften was my special and best friend.   She guided me through Romrell’s computer class, stood beside me as we took stats together for the football team, and, when I was too vain to wear my glasses at high school dances, sat beside me and told me who was approaching.

Roommates-turned-best-friends blessed my early BYU years and Pioneer Trek-associates-turned-best-friends blessed my later BYU years, my long stretch as a single young adult, and are still blessing my life today.    Now, in Roy, I find myself again blessed beyond measure or merit by great people who are also great friends.

“I cannot even imagine where I would be today were it not for that handful of friends who have given me a heart full of joy.”    Charles R. Swindoll

I have always been grateful for the handful of friends who have given me a heart full of joy.  My gratitude, and my joy, is multiplied when I consider the handful of friends who fill my children’s hearts with joy.    


Thank you my friends.  I love you.


Teresa



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Teachers Are People Too.............

5/17/2015

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Teachers are people too.    Really.

This week we took 45 eighth and ninth graders to Arches National Park for four days where we hiked to Delicate Arch, stood on top of Double O Arch, explored Negro Bill Canyon, climbed to the base of Castleton, swam in Mill Creek, and peered over the edge at Dead Horse Point.  Let the good times roll!

I let the kids bring their cell phones on most of my field trips but I made it very, VERY clear that electronic devices of any kind (stand-alone cameras being an exception) were NOT allowed on this field trip—no, none, NOT ANY!   I wanted the kids to disconnect from the world and to connect with each other and with their surroundings; to experience life unplugged for a couple days.   Having spent most of my life disconnected (in one way or another!)  I was confident the experience would not kill them.

On the bus ride home I found Jason plugged into a tablet he told me was Karla's.  Really?  Karla?!??!   Over the course of the trip I had spent hours at her feet, literally.   Her poor toes were ground to hamburger by her inadequate shoes.  I cleaned, doctored, and bandaged her feet every morning and every night and several times in-between.     Slowed by pain, she was almost always at the end of the line and I was almost always at her side, encouraging her and lauding her efforts.   Discovering that she brought and used an electronic devise felt like a stab in the back.

Later, on the same bus ride home, I found Karla using a cell phone.   Seriously.   It might have been funny if it weren’t so painful.  (Someday maybe I will laugh about it…..)

Near the end of the bus ride Karla came to me and asked that I give the tablet back to her when we arrived at the school.  “Everyone has electronics,” was her reason.    Everyone?    Clearly not everyone had them but, also clearly, there were many more traitors that I realized…….More stabs in the back.

Sunni also approached me, asking me to return to her the cell phone I had taken from Karla  “My parents made me bring it,” she said, “in case the school was not open when we got back so that I could call home.”   Male bovine scat.    There were four OPA teachers on the trip; we would be able get into the building.    Lying and bringing electronics……more stabs in my back….

When we returned to the school, Annie’s father approached me and asked for the cell phone back.   The cell phone did not even belong to Sunni so her lie about her parents making her bring it was on top of a lie about who the device belonged to… Twist the knife as it is used to stab me in the back….

And….to add to the web of disloyalty and deception,   Sam (my colleague) told me that the night before he overheard plans to sneak out of the tents after “lights out”.   He had to stage a silent stake-out, late at night, waiting for them to initiate their escapade.    “It was hell,” were his exact words.

Kids will be kids, right?   Wrong.  I refuse to accept that.   Some kids will be kids but these are not some kids.  These are MY kids.  Every class period I shake their hands, look them in the eye, and welcome them by name as they enter my room.  I spent the last year developing relationships of trust with them.   I took them skiing in North Fork, experimenting at the University of Utah, exploring at the Museum of Natural Curiosity, and tree planting at Mount Ogden Park.   We’ve gone on walks, ridden trains, and been to concerts together.   In every instance they trusted me to do as I promised and I trusted them to do as I asked.  And it has worked well for us.   We have each other’s backs.   We are quality people.  We are the OPA family….which is why their deception hurt so badly.   I was not betrayed by just any students; I was betrayed by MY students.    Ouch.

I know that eighth graders are not exceedingly mature, still developing good judgement, and prone to making choices that are less than laudable but I also know that they can be noble, loyal, and trustworthy.    I recognize the importance of acknowledging the “nature of the beast”, so to speak, but I also recognize the importance of NOT settling for “beastliness”; children will be children but that does not make childishness acceptable.

So, in the complex geometry of student/teacher relations, I need to find an angle of repose.   As I see it I must either 1) accept errant behavior has inevitable, 2) find a way to more effectively create loyalty, or 3) quit taking kids on overnight field trips because I am unable to do the first two options.    I am not sure what I will decide but, thankfully, the decision does not have to be made right away.

In the meantime, I am making the decision to focus on the trip’s bright points and there were many, MANY of those (not the least of which was we had wonderful weather…the rain started as we were driving out of the Park on our way home---certainly a tender mercy!)

Ø  Doug, our bus driver, was FABULOUS.   He hiked with the group, teased the kids, and shared his snacks with me.   Perfect!

Ø  Everyone came back alive---certainly a bonus!    As I watched the kids sit on the top of Double O Arch and again, as I scrambled, scared, across the loose talus slope at Castleton’s base, I thought “It is a good thing that some parents cannot see what I let their children do.”    “SKETCHY” was the word of the day at Castleton.  “Teresa must have been really praying for us,” Andrea said, “because no one was hurt.”  True and true.

Ø  “Mrs. Hislop, I tore a hole in my shorts,” Brad told me as he showed me a four inch, three cornered tear in his swim trunks.    We had finished our Castleton hike and were headed to our Mill Creek adventure with no scheduled stop at the camp ground in-between.   “Wrap in a blanket,” I told him, “and give me your shorts.”    Obediently and discreetly he shimmied out of his shorts and handed them to me.   Using my blister-popping needle and some spare thread, I quickly sewed the hole shut and he was re-clothed before anyone realized that he hadn’t been.

Ø  When Lars saw me at Delicate Arch he said, with obvious pleasure, “You made it!”  I am not sure what made him think I might not have made it but I am glad that he was glad that I did.

Ø  Megan and Sienna fed me popcorn.  I love popcorn.

Ø  Sam and Talyn fed me blueberries.  I REALLY love blueberries!

Ø  “This is the first time I have ever been camping and hiking,” reported Marion. “I love it!”

Ø  The week before the trip, Heather’s grandmother (who is raising her) found me at school and expressed her concerns.  “I am so scared,” she confessed.  “This is the first time she has been away from home.  I know that it will be a good experience for her but it is really, really hard for me.”     It was a good experience for Heather…..and probably for her grandmother as well.

Ø  On the way from one hike to another, the kids had a “rap off”.  Carson, who struggles a bit for acceptance, won the contest and enjoyed some time in a the limelight.

Ø  “The trip was great,” Allison said, “except the hiking.”   When I asked her why she came on a hiking trip if she did not like hiking she said, with a smile, “Let me put it this way…..After the Castleton hike, my legs would have hurt less if I’d cut them off.”

Ø  Manual, a not-athletic appearing boy, led the pack everywhere.  He climbed to the top of the highest point, sat in the bottom of the biggest mud hole, and strode confidently across the sketchiest slope.  Who’d have thought?

I truly love these kids!!

Teresa

P.S.  On the home front……..


While I was in Arches with other people’s children, my children had some adventures of their own.

·         Miles won a GOLD medal in Krypto at the Weber County Math/Science Olympiad.

·         Tanah earned a HIGHLY PROFICIENT rating on the SAGE Chemistry test that she feared she would fail.

·         Grace fouled out of her basketball game.

·         Miles crashed riding his bike to school and had to get four stitches in his knee.

·         Tanah was named 2015-2016 Roy High Drama Club President.


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Women Who Have Mothered Me

5/10/2015

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An open womb doth not a mother make
But a heart that is opened for love’s sake.

Giving birth is not required
But love unfeigned to the child wild

Many are the women who have mothered me
On this blessed day, I honor thee.

Ø  Sister Hogan was our backdoor neighbor when I was a curly blonde, bright blue eyed, wildly spoiled pre-school child.  I knocked on her door almost every day and every day that I knocked, she invited me in.   Her toy drawer, cookie jar, and elderly arms were always open to me.

Ø  Mrs. Prengubber taught first grade at Young Elementary.   One day she gave me a pair of pants, pants that I wore proudly the next day to school.    Gently she took me aside and told me the pants were actually pajama bottoms.  (This in an era when pajamas were NOT worn in public. Ever.) Kindly she told no one else.  My secret (and my heart) was safe with her.

Ø  Sister Moffett was my BYU mom.  She and Brother Moffett (there is not one without the other) lived in Brigham City at the time.   On my way to Idaho to visit my parents, on my way back from Idaho after having visited my parents, and many, many times when I was not going to or coming from Idaho, I was in their living room, in their frig, and/or in one of their beds.   Once I arrived late, let myself in, and rolled out my sleeping bag on their front room floor.  I awoke the next morning to Brother Moffett gently lifting the edge of my bag, trying to figure out who was sleeping in his home.  I planned my trips to and through Brigham City so that I would arrive at meal time, knowing that Sister Moffett would offer to feed me.  Her food filled my stomach; her love filled my heart.

Ø  Aunt Beth mothered me the summers I worked Pioneer Trek.   College poor and poorly paid, she and Uncle Doug augmented my bank account by feeding and housing me and increased my confidence by completely embracing me.  

Ø  Early in our marriage Lance did something that seemed huge (but that I cannot even remember now…..) that hurt my feelings.    Sad and feeling lonely I fled to his mother for comfort.   From the first time we met, Dianne Hislop has treated me like a daughter.   Thank you Mom Hislop for accepting me and embracing me.

Ø  Later in our marriage, at a family gathering, burdened by concerns I felt were too heavy to carry, I quietly slipped away, knowing that I had to escape before my sobs became audible and planning to hide until I could pull myself back together.   Aunt Linda followed me and, in her kind and wise way, let me know that she cared.  Thinking about it brings tears to my eyes even now.  Hers was and is pure mothering.

Ø  Aunt Joanne, Aunt Wanda, Aunt Edie, Aunt Reta, Aunt Ethel, Aunt Nancy, Aunt Jean…..Thank you for accepting me, believing in me, and supporting me.   I hope to be to my nieces and nephews what you have been to me.

Ø  Marjorie mothers me in countless ways…..cooking for me on field trips, mailing me birthday presents 18 months in advance, sewing Easter and blessing dresses for my girls, providing transportation when my van blows up, giving support to me when I am  literally and figuratively weak in the knees…..Thank you, dear sister.   Thank you.

Ø  In a wonderful role reversal, my daughters mother me.   “Would you like to talk?” Tanah offers when she senses I am struggling.   Recently I was almost clotheslined as I staggered to the bathroom at 4:30 a.m., by duct tape strung across my bedroom doorway.  Attached to the tape was a loving message from Grace, accompanied by a flashlight and my glasses so that I could read the message.  A triple trail of nice notes dotted the floors; one leading up the stairs, one to the bathroom, and the third to the office.   I had gone to bed early the night before, collapsing, and she had stayed up late, creating.   What a blessing my mothering daughters are to me!

Ø  Mother, my Mother!    I honor you, I cherish you, I treasure you!   Thank you for taking me, an often whiney and generally spoiled young girl,  to feed the ducks, to check out books at the library, and to visit Mr. Jefferies.   Thanks to the childhood experiences you gave me, I still love ducks and rivers, I still haunt libraries, and I take my children to visit lonely widowers.   Thank you for countless encouraging notes, for enduring my tantrums when you taught me to sew, and for spending money you did not have to buy a new dress for me so that I could feel pretty when I went to BYU to interview for the Kimball Scholarship.   Thanks to you I write notes to (and receive notes from) to my children,  I patiently and empathetically endure Tanah’s fits when I am trying to teach her chemistry, and I spent money I did not want to to buy Tanah a prom dress because I remember how important it is to feel pretty.  I take Tanah’s forgotten homework to school because I remember how meaningful it was to me when you drove from Newdale to Sugar City (30 minutes each way) to bring me nylons when mine snagged on a chair in the science lab.    You have always loved me, Mother my Mother, and I will always love you.     Thank you.

Many are the women who have mothered me.
On this blessed day, I honor thee.

Love,
Teresa


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Notice the flashlight, glasses, and love(ly) notes....
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Three trails of notes diverged in an entry way; one up the stairs, one to the bathroom, and a third to the office.
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Each note was written on scratch paper (so as not to waste trees) and had a message specially designed for me.
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Tanah looks and (perhaps more importantly) feels pretty!
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No blood!
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Grace as the schoolmarm in SAA's production of "My Son Pinocchio, Jr." She also played a nagging mother and a pig/dog.
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Old....and Used....And Loved

5/3/2015

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“My brain is more expensive than your brain,” Miles boldly declared.

“Oh?” I questioned, “How so?”

“My brain is worth $20,000 and yours is only worth $100.”

“Why is that?” I queried, hoping that he would say that mine was used so I could exploit the comment.

“Mine is much newer,” he explained, “and yours is really old.”

DANG!   There is a distinct difference between “old” and “used” and the difference does not work in my favor.

 

This week my brain is old and my muscles are used…and old.

 

Wednesday Grace took the farm—two pigs, three sheep, five hens—to Ogden Prep where she spent the day teaching sixth and seventh graders about livestock and 4-H.    To get the animals to the school, I had to carry the two pigs 100 meters uphill to the trailer.   I did not think I would make it with the first pig and I did not make it with the second pig—had to stop twice to rest.    My arms are still sore.    Used.  And old.

 

At the end of the school day, we loaded the animals back into the trailer.   Without thinking, I loaded the ewe before loading the lambs.   Without thinking (I am confident that sheep do not think) the two lambs jumped our makeshift fence and were loose in the OPA parking lot.  

 

Not good.    Lambs are wild and wily; they have a natural distrust of humans that time and exposure to grain has not yet had a chance to mitigate.   We had no fences.   There were cars everywhere.   And there were only two of us within miles who knew anything about livestock.    It was a true disaster in the making.  

 

I am not sure how it happened; I am not even sure I can describe what happened.  (But I know Who happened.)   One lamb leapt past Grace and she snagged it in midair.   The second lamb stopped almost in midstride and watched me quizzically as I grabbed it and put it in the trailer.  Saturday it took me three attempts to catch the same lamb in the corral, surrounded by a fence and backed into a corner.  Catching those lambs in an open parking lot was truly miraculous.  

 

Wednesday night...  It was 9:30 p.m. and very dark, when I finally had time to return Dad’s horse trailer to his neighbor’s pasture in West Point.   The trailer had to be returned that night because I had a Relief Society activity at our home the next evening and needed the parking places the trailer would occupy.  I could not return it the next day during the day because I had to work.   Wednesday night it had to be.

 

Lance was helping Grace with homework, Miles was bed bound, and Tanah was gone so it was just the truck, the trailer, and Teresa (me).    Being more than a little tired I was half way to Syracuse Arts Academy before I realized that I wanted to go to my parent’s house.   Having passed the road to their home a couple of miles back, I turned on the next large-looking road headed west.

 

The road became less large and soon there were no street lamps.  I was almost on top of the Road Closed sign before I could read it.   Stopping a truck and trailer is not a quick thing and I did not do it.   Sure that there would be a detour option, I continued.

 

I continued until I reached the road block.   There was no detour option and there was nowhere to go.   I stopped there, in the middle of the road, in what seemed like the middle of the night, and in what I knew to be the middle of a big mess.

 

I do not back trailers.   I have tried, unsuccessfully, several times.   When I attempt to back a trailer, there is a guaranteed outcome…and it is not pretty.   Every time, without fail, I jack-knife the trailer.  The vehicle I am driving and the trailer I am attempting to back end up at 90 degree angles to one another.  Every time.

 

I was in an unfamiliar neighborhood.  The sky was overcast and there were no street lamps so I had no light by which to see, either artificial or natural.  The late hour and the fact that I did not really know where I was made me reluctant to call someone.   What to do?

 

First thing:  Do not panic.

Second: Do pray.

Third: Move forward (or backward as the case may be…) in faith.

 

Having no other viable option and wanting to get home before sunrise, I started to back up, slowly, oh SO slowly.   Unable to see much more than the backup lights of the trailer, I proceeded with caution, hoping that I was indeed in the middle of the road and that there were not any obstacles in my direct path.

 

I had to have a large (very large) area in which to turn around and was hoping for a wide cross road.   It was so dark that I could not see any, though I knew they existed.   I backed up slowly, almost blindly, hoping that somehow I would be able to find a cross road though I could see nothing.

 

I’d backed about two and a half blocks when a car approached from the rear.   I stopped, waiting for it to pass.   Instead of passing, it turned on a cross road just a couple yards from the back of my trailer.   Its headlight illuminated the road long enough for me to see where it was.  Somehow (I think my guardian angels were working overtime) I managed to turn the trailer enough to back into the cross road but not enough to jack knife it.   It was truly a miracle.

 

The adventure was not over.   Dad’s neighbor’s pasture was also pitch black.  I could not see where I needed to put the trailer, ended up swinging too wide, and found myself, again, in a position where I needed to back the trailer.     Emboldened by my recent experience, I tried backing it in.  I was emboldened but not empowered.   Very quickly I had the trailer hopelessly jack-knifed.   There was no way I was going to be able to put that trailer where it needed to be.

 

Dad has good neighbors.   At ten o’clock at night I knocked on Alan Ormond’s door.   He was at home (he is an EMT and works 24 hour shifts) and awake (another miracle).    Within minutes he had the trailer backed into position, we unhooked it, and I was on my way home.

 

At day’s end I felt very used…..and old…..and loved.    Thank you Heavenly Father!

 

Sure love you!

Teresa


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    Teresa Hislop
    thislop@msn.com

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