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Havasupai

10/27/2013

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“What do you need?” Kyle called down from the trail about three switchbacks above us.

“Water,” Mrs. Klar responded.

“Water,” Kyle yelled to someone three switchbacks above
him.

 "Water”………. “Water”………”Water”   The message was passed from student to student until it reached the rim top, over a mile away.

 Water, in PowerAde form, came running down the trail, carried by students who had only recently trudged up the merciless, sun-baked switch backs themselves.    Without exception, they had arrived at the top exhausted.   Done.   Spent.  But when word came up that there were others struggling, fatigue was forgotten and broken blisters ignored.   They found strength in muscles that they thought could do no more and they ran, RAN, down the mountain.  They brought drinks, they brought words of encouragement and they brought tears to my eyes.     I love these kids!!!


Our Havasupai adventure began Monday morning about 5 a.m. in the Ogden Preparatory Academy parking lot.  Groups of groggy students mingled.  Backpacks were loaded into a truck.  The parents who were staying behind gave last minute advice.   The parents who were driving gathered with mixed feelings of excitement and trepidation, awaiting further instructions.   
 
Surrounded by motion and emotion, I found moment to chat, in Spanish, with a concerned father.   “She is my only daughter,” he explained.   “Everyone tells me that letting her go on the trip is the right thing to do, that she needs to become
independent, and I know that they are right but it is so hard to let her go.   She is my only daughter.     You understand?” he finished with a question, his heart feelings showing through his humble brown eyes.   
 
I do understand, I told him.  I do.   Warmed by his trust and humbled by the responsibility, I promised him I would take care of his daughter as I vowed to myself that I would do the same, so help me God.  
 
Yes, so help me God.    Please help me God!    I gathered everyone for final instructions, invited anyone interested to join me for a Christian prayer before we left, and then we, 42 of us (29 students, 13 adults), were on the road, Grand Canyon bound.   Sam Hayman, Hobbes (his dog), Grace (my daughter), myself, and about 38 backpacks traveled south in a diesel pickup I borrowed from my father.   (Yes, I still need my Daddy!)

After a lunch stop in St. George, a passenger stop in North Las Vegas to pick up Aliza (my niece), and a sight-seeing stop on the Nevada/Arizona border to see Hoover Dam, we arrived in Kingman, AZ where we spent the night on the soft soil in a roping arena owned by Amie Campbell’s (our new principal) mother.  The accommodations, complete with a rented porta-pottie in the corral’s center, running water from two different hoses, and a night light in the form of a huge street lamp, were a
significant step up from the cow-pie caked BLM land we used the first night on our trip last year.  (THANK YOU AMIE!)  

Looked over by brilliant stars in a dark, desert sky and sung to sleep by chatting  coyotes, most rested peacefully……until 5 a.m. when I started singing.     Loud and obnoxious I bellowed off-key,   “In the leafy treetops the birds sing ‘Good morning’”……  The kids loved to hate it.   “When Mia said that you would wake us by singing,” Riley said, “I thought, ‘How bad can it be?’   Now I know.”

We arrived at Hilltop (the parking lot at the Havasupai trailhead) while morning shadows still shaded the switchbacks.    After a “before” picture, the group started down, Hayman at the head, Teresa at the tail.   Some power hiked the ten miles, making it to the campground by early afternoon.   Others of us ambled, arriving several hours later.   It was Suzly’s first hike ever and Antonio’s first time out of Utah.     Ashton carried a bottle of Nutella that drew envious looks throughout the trip.    I had a fabulous chat with Mrs. Astorga, a teacher at our school who doubled as a  driver and mother of one of the students on the trip.  Many of the kids had less-than-desirable footwear and some had questionable backpacks but none had complaints.    I love these kids!  
 
Everyone made it, mostly without injury.  Mrs. Klar, distracted by something, took a tumble that knocked her head, shoulder, and knee.   The head bonk morphed into a beastly black eye that made one wonder where she had gotten into a bar room brawl and what the other person looked like.    
 
Wednesday morning we were up at first light and soon thereafter descended the Mooney Falls chute in morning shadows and waterfall mists.  The chute is a nearly vertical drop through tunnels, along cliff edges, and down ladders.   Though chains border most of the path, it is an intimidating challenge for many people. Repeatedly, as our students stepped back onto firm ground, they said to  me, “I am afraid of heights.  That was hard” but never, not once, did they balk or complain.  
Conquering their fears, they captured confidence.   I love these kids!!!

They are strong but not necessarily smart; crazy might be an appropriate adjective.    Though the canyon was shadowed and the accompanying breeze cold, many stripped to their swim suits and jumped off 8 foot ledges into the travertine-rimmed, Mediterranean- blue pools.   Through purple lips and chattering teeth, they urged me to join them.  “It’s not that cold,” they insisted.   Right.

I did join them at Beaver Falls where I found myself telling others, through purple lips and chattering teeth, that it wasn’t “that
cold”.   Though the area was also shaded (the October sun’s rays never made it to the valley floor), I found the water truly irresistible as did most of the students.  All but a few jumped from the 20 foot terraces into the waterfall-fed pools below.   

From Beaver Falls, 16 of us (11 students, 4 parents, Sam and I) hiked to the confluence where the Havasu River meets the Colorado  (17 miles round trip).    The rest headed back to camp.   For me, it was life at its best—hiking between red rock canyon walls, beside a bedazzlingly blue river, accompanied by upbeat adults and eager, unjaded teens, reading cairns, making multiple river crossings—it just doesn’t get better than this.    At the confluence, the colors seemed to intensify; Havasu’s bright blue water drew a vivid, distinctive line into the Colorado River’s murky green surface and dusk’s soft light gave the limestone walls a peachy pastel glow.  Incredible.  Truly incredible.

I became the foot specialist.  Shaun’s toe begged for attention.  Blood seeped through the seams of his toeshoes.  Knowing that if we removed the shoe we would never get it back on again and knowing that many miles separated us from base camp, we knew he wouldjust have to tough it out.   And he did.   [His toe nail was flapping free when we removed the shoe back at camp.   I ended up cutting it loose.  He saved the nail in a plastic baggie.  He’ll probably show it to you if you ask.]


Our hike back was done mostly in the dark.   Sixteen biped bodies, 13 headlamps, 36 feet (Hobbes was with us), 6 or 7 river crossings, and 17 great attitudes; we made our way home.     Said Mrs. D’Hulst, President of the OPA Board of Directors, “I would much rather be here hiking in the dark than back at camp worried about those who are hiking in the dark.”   I was also very glad she was with us hiking instead of back at camp worrying about us.

When we got in that night, about 9:30 p.m., Grace and Aliza said, “Do we have to eat dinner?  Can we just go straight to bed?”   I love questions like that!

Time passed all too quickly.   We spent Thursday morning doing homework and Thursday afternoon jumping in and swimming out of travertine pools.   Sam led us up a rock cliff and onto a rim hike that overlooked our campground and Havasupai Falls.   Killian gazed over the rim, turned to walk back to the trail, stumbled on a loose rock, and fell backwards...........landing only inches from the edge.   I saw it al  happen but was too far away to do anything.   My stomach dropped to the bottom of canyon and my heart rate soared sky high.   Hours passed before I could breathe normally.

Anword (or two) about Sam: the man is amazing!  I have never worked with anyone so capable and so compatible.  His
outdoor savvy and incredible strength make hiking and camping a safe option for students.  His kid savvy and incredible insight make hiking and camping a growing, character building experience for kids.   His easy going nature, sense of humor, and integrity make him an ideal colleague. 
    
That evening I opened a foot clinic.  For over two hours I treated feet, doctoring blisters, raw spots, and abrasions.    I used all my first aid supplies, all of Mr. Miller’s supplies, and most of Mrs. Klar’s supplies.   Next year foot first aid supplies will be a line item on our budget.

Friday we were up at 5:00, breakfasted and packed and on the trail by 7:20 a.m.    I took the lead this time, marching with Grace and Aliza up the campground trail, past the village, through the wash, and up the switchbacks.    Sucking air and burning buttocks, we made it to the top at 11:20, about 15 minutes behind Julian who was the first of our group to arrive.  
For the next two hours we welcomed sweating, panting Ogden Preparatory people, giving them cheers and PowerAde as they staggered onto the parking  lot.

 When he arrived at the top, Kyle dropped his backpack and said, “I am never going to put this thing on again………until next year.”    Mr. Yingling said, “I am sure glad I hired a donkey to carry my pack because if I hadn’t, it would be laying beside the trail, abandoned down there somewhere.”    Bailey carried most of Mia’s stuff, trying to take weight off her
blisters and rolled ankles.   Ethan brought a bag of chips from his car and generously shared with everyone. Mrs. Houghton downed 20 oz. of PowerAde and said that it was the best thing she ever drank.     We all laughed at Mrs. Stott as she
dismounted the horse she’d had to hire because her ankle went bad.    She was sore in places that we weren’t.  Carson dropped his pack and went straight to the shade.   Mr. Williams took his pack straight to his car where he had a stash of ice cold drinks.   Hallie arrived smiling; even brutal switchbacks couldn’t make her grimace.  Nick found that hiking with socks is much more comfortable than hiking without them.   When he arrived on top Ashton immediately started to make mashed potatoes but was stopped when a stray dog drank his water before he could boil it.  Willi declared a personal victory.  I love these kids!

And then word came that Mr. Hayman was carrying Megan’s backpack. Not good.  Hayman’s backpack was already heavy, given all the just-in-case-stuff he carried.  Two backpacks are too much, even for Ironman Hayman.    So I grabbed a walking stick and started down.   Mrs. Klar grabbed a first aid kit and followed.   

We found Mr. Hayman and three students just starting up the switchbacks, hot, tired, out of breath and out of water.   The steep, rock strewn trail was fully exposed to the afternoon sun and the situation was not pretty.   Though it was not yet dangerous, it was certainly not fun.   Mrs. Klar and I each took a backpack, bemoaned the fact we’d not brought water, and started back up the switchbacks.

Then came the Calvary mentioned at the first of the letter.   Kyle, whose head comes to my shoulder and whose weight tips the scales at just over half what mine does—the same boy who had earlier said he would never put on a backpack again—offered to take the pack I was carrying.   I let him.  Another student took the backpack from Mrs. Klar.   Shaun, whose missing toenail made walking uncomfortable, came running down the trail.  Riley arrived and began a steady stream of encouraging words.   To the rescue!   Spurred only by their genuine concern, the kids came down, bringing drinks, hugs, and helping hands.   Never have I been more proud to be part of Team: OPA.  I love these kids!

And then we were on the way home.  After dinner in Kingman, we camped at an LDS stake park in North Las Vegas, arose early (yes, more singing!), and followed I-15 home to Ogden.  

At home I found an email that had been sent early in the week inviting me to be a part of a curriculum development project. 
I replied affirmatively, expressing a hope that the opportunity still existed and including the reason for my somewhat tardy
response.

The reply came “6 day backpacking field trip with 30 junior high students. Oh my!  My mind can't quite wrap around that, it blows me away.”

It’s true...in general junior high kids have a not-so-complimentary reputation, some of which is deserved.   Our junior high kids, however, are GREAT!!!   They are well mannered and so, so gracious.  Being with them is a pleasure.   There is a special kind of joy that comes with introducing the outdoors to those who've never experienced it and in sharing it with those who have.   Experiencing their excitement amplifies the joy that being outdoors brings me.  It was truly a glorious experience, not in spite of but because of the junior high kids.    I love these kids!!!!

Teresa

P.S.  Afraid for my camera's future, I left the good camera at home and brought a cheap one.   The battery died while I was in the canyon.  Consequently, the photos are poor in quantity and quality.

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Our bags are packed; we're ready to go!
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Grace does homework in the truck.
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Hobbes does no work in the truck.
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Dam teacher
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A night in the corral
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A morning in the porta-potty
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Havasu Crew 2013
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Hate the switchbacks
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Love the niece....
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This is a hiker.
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Love the Nutella!
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....and the hat!
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This is a cairn.
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This is a rock record. Can you read the story? What type of rock is this? How was it deposited? Take 8th grade science to find out.
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You should see the other guy!
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Awake but not on her feet.
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Breakfast of Champions!
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On his feet but not awake.
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Overlooking Mooney Falls
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Descending the chute into Mooney Falls
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Mooney Falls Pool
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It's not that cold!
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It is this beautiful!!
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Foot clinic. Easy to know which end is which.
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Hand caterpillar. Harder to tell which end is which.....
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Homework
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After homework.....and just before my camera battery died.
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Short Stories

10/20/2013

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Though I much prefer book-length stories, short stories have their place.   They are good for reading at night when one is trying to fall asleep, for times when one needs something to occupy the mind while one’s bum occupies the “throne”, and for conveying succinct, powerful messages.    Today I have short stories.   None of them have life-changing insights, I don’t expect you to post them in your bathrooms, and they are probably too short to induce sleep, nonetheless, here they are.


 Fowl Play

Who would have thought?    
 
Last Friday (10/11/14) Ogden Prep had its annual fund-raising carnival.   Unable to mimic last year’s performance—Dad was out of town and I was hesitant to use his horses without him—I decided to sponsor a petting zoo.   I haven’t any exotic animals—just farm stock—but, thought I, farm stock may be exotic to city kids.   So, I loaded a charming Soay ewe (so tame she ate from the children’s hands), three soft, silky bunnies, four molting hens, and a big, dumb dog into the back of Dad’s truck and hauled them to school.

I made a woven wire enclosure that was filled most of the night with free roaming chickens, a wandering dog, a Grace-tethered ewe, rabbits boxed in by hay bales, and many, many children.    For $3 each, the children could spend as much time as they wanted in our zoo and parents could take as many pictures as they wanted from the perimeter.  In 2.5 hours we made $370.   
 
Who would have thought?

The biggest surprise of the day, however, was not the zoo’s popularity but the particular popularity of some of its inhabitants.   I thought the hit of the day would be the sheep but I was wrong.   My second guess would have been
the bunnies.  Wrong again.    The most popular pets were the chickens.   CHICKENS!  The kids loved holding them, setting
them down, catching them, and holding them again.  One young girl spent over an hour with us, catching and releasing  chickens.

Who would have thought?

The Trophy Awarded

Grace ran in the Charter School State Cross Country Championships as a member of Syracuse Art Academy’s (SAA) District Championship team.    She was the fifth runner in for her team and was almost disconsolately disappointed in her personal
performance.   Tears turned to smiles, however, when the SAA team took third place at the state meet.

Later her grandfather kindly, teasingly, and very clearly hassled her about running over the summer.   In various ways, using many avenues, his message was the same:  she would be a better cross country runner if she put in miles over the summer.   “It made me feel good,” commented Grace, “because if he thinks I can be better then he must think I’m good to begin with.”    Good, better, best, right?

The Trophy Not Awarded

Tanah participated in her first debate tournament last week.  Though she is a novice, she won her first two Lincoln-Douglas debate matches.    The room in which she was scheduled to appear for her third and final match was quite far behind
schedule, so far behind, in fact, that the director of the tournament looked at the upcoming debaters, saw that Tanah was a novice, noted that she would be debating a J.V. girl, recognized the J.V. girl as one having a lot of talent, determined that there was no way that Tanah could beat her, and decided to begin the awards ceremony before Tanah’s third debate took place.    Happily for Tanah she won the debate.   YEA!  Sadly for Tanah, the trophy she earned for winning all her matches had already been given to someone else by the time she completed her debate.  Not-so-yea.

The Fish Not Caught


Last weekend Miles, Lance, Chris, and Cooper went fishing.  There was no catching and releasing of fish because there was no catching of fish….except for Miles; he pulled in the excursion only fish.  Those who fish with him suspect that he is a fish whispherer because he always seems to pull them in.  In true Hislop style, he is NOT humble about it.

The Races Lost

However, humble pie was on the menu for Miles at the Pinewood Derby.  His car placed very consistently….last. It was not easy for our super competitive boy to take the constant defeats.

Being Upset with your Husband Is Bad for your Waistline

I gained three pounds yesterday.

One of These Things Is Not Like the Other

Last Sunday Aunt Linda awoke to find a sheep in her backyard.   She lives in a residential neighborhood and her yard is surrounded by a tall fence.  Where did the lamb come from?  No one knows.  Where did it go?   Soon you will know.

I told Aunt Linda we would adopt her sheep.    When I arrived at her house I found a young (probably born in May or
early June), crossbred (Hampshire and a white face breed), very (VERY) wild ewe lamb; she clearly was not someone’s bottle fed, backyard pet.  I brought her home and put her in the pasture with the Soays.  On our place she looks like a Utah girl in an Alabaman Southern Baptist congregation. (See photo.)

Ten Miles Is Ten Miles

When Dad Hislop invited me to walk 10 miles with him, I gave it no thought.   Running 10 miles, at this point in my life, would push me but walking 10 miles on the relatively flat river pathway would hardly qualify as exercise.   Wrong. Ten miles is still 10 miles.   I walked with him Friday morning and Saturday I still felt twinges of stiffness.

Small Golf = Large Fun

Fall Break's planned two day family camping activity morphed into a two hour family outing to the local miniature golf course where Tanah and Lance each made a hole-in-one, Teresa made a hole-in-ten, Grace made a whole lot of marks on the score card, Miles wholly enjoyed himself, and Chick made a hole in the Club House window.   (Just kidding about the last one.)

Not So Fast

The week before we were to sing in General Conference the family fasted, petitioning for divine help ; we needed God’s help to both hear and match the notes.    Miles, ten minutes after he started his fast, was experiencing intense hunger pains. 

"Do I have to fast, Mom?” he asked.

“No.”

“But I want the blessings of fasting……” he said.

“Then you will have to fast.”

“Can’t I get the blessings of fasting without fasting?” he asked.

If only!    If only we could get the blessing of fasting without fasting, of dieting without dieting, of exercise without exercising, of knowledge without studying, of loving without investing…..  Doesn’t happen.

Love ya!
Teresa




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Catch and release; it's fowl play!!!!
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I cannot say enough good about this darling 8th grader. She stayed with me the entire evening, from set-up to tear-down. She ran the rabbit den, ensuring that children had a success experience with the bunnies and that the bunnies' attempts to escape were not successful.
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Feed my sheep!
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One of Lance's runner, also known as Elastic Girl, stretching out before the Region race.
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Two old coaches chatting about cross country.
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Syracuse Arts Academy girls, coached by Lance Hislop, won the Region Cross Country title. Grace was among the top ten finishers in the race.
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Grace and her SAA teammates running in the Charter School State Cross Country Championships.
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Still running......
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Grace, disappointed with her performance at the State meet, finds comfort in the arms of her daddy coach.
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Nothing like a THIRD PLACE AT STATE trophy to turn tears to smiles!
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One of these things is not like the other......
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Chick concentrates on his shot during the family miniature golf outing.
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It turns out that taking pictures of people on the golf course is much more entertaining that taking pictures of people actually golfing......
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.....unless the people actually golfing are not using a club!
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And she huffed and she puffed and......
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....she blew the ball in!
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Lance's ball was blue.......
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On This Day of Joy and Gladness.....

10/6/2013

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“On this day of joy and gladness, Lord we praise thy holyname,
In this sacred place of worship, we Thy glories loud proclaim.”
(Beginning lines of the opening hymn sung in second conference session by the family choir)


October 5th will long (forever) be in our Hislop hearts a day of joy and gladness, a day when we, in a sacred place of worship, sang praises to His holy name.

The day started a bit rocky…at least for me.   Despite all the things I had done—sewed on buttons, soaked the boy’s shirts in an Oxyclean brine to make them white, collected footwear to make sure every shoe had a mate, found and stashed dark socks for the men, cut Miles’ hair, washed all the jewel-colored shirts—there was still lots to be done.

One of the things that had to happen was a haircut for Lance—not a huge issue given the fact that I’ve been cutting his hair for years.    It became a huge issue, however, when the beard trimmer I’ve used to cut his hair, died in mid-cut.   Long hair looks bad.   Half long and half shaved hair looks really bad.  At some point in the morning, both Grace and Tanah had partial meltdowns about their hair.  I was able to help them.   Lance I could not help.

He called (and awoke) Kathy Howell, a beautician in our ward and said, “I have a hair emergency.”    She invited him and Chick (who also needed a cut) over to her home, asking only for a minute or two to put in her contacts.  Major dilemma #1
solved.

Major dilemma #2….

We were to be at the Conference Center Theater at 11:00 a.m., in preparation for the 2:00 p.m. meeting.    We hoped to leave the house at 9:45, though we did not have to leave until about 10:00 a.m. to be on time.   We left at
10:05.   Driving on I-15 (the interstate freeway), at about Farmington (20 minutes from home) I looked over at Lance, who was wearing his new white shirt, tie draped casually around his neck.   “You have your suit coat with you, right?” I asked.  
 
The look of utter horror on his face answered my question.   Nope.  No suit coat. “Turn around,” I said.  “We have to go
back.”

Lance took the first exit, which put us on Legacy Highway, a road that leads west, towards the airport, not south towards the Conference Center, not north towards Roy.    Not only did the Legacy Highway take us in the wrong direction, it took us in the wrong direction slowly; the speed limit is only 55 mph.  And, there are no exits for over 5 miles.   Aside from being upside down in a barrow pit, it was the worst possible place for us to be.  
 
As we traveled slowly west on the Legacy Highway I called our home teacher.   “Ken,” I said, “We need your help.  Are you
available right now?”   He responded affirmatively and graciously.   I explained our situation and we agreed that he would fetch the coat from our home and meet us somewhere on I-15.  
 
In the meantime, we’d found an emergency turn-around [For official use only] that crossed the Legacy meridian, had done a U-turn, and were headed back towards I-15.   We met Ken and Amy Jefferies on I-15 near Clearfield, retrieved the coat, and were on our way again.

Apparently it takes a ward to get a family to sing in conference.

Breathlessly (partially from running from the parking garage and partially from the breath-taking ride to the parking garage) we entered the Conference Center Theater having missed nothing except the opening prayer.   With the other 358 members
of the choir, we stood and warmed our voices.  “Every time we practice,” Sister Felstead told us, “you get to the point where you sing beautifully.  Today we do not have time to get there.  You must be there now.   Don’t be the singer you are; be the singer you want to be,” she told us.

Too soon the practice was over and they fed us the “nothing more than a glorified Lunchable” they had promised us.  We weren’t expecting much…. but we got a lot; a chicken salad sandwich in a croissant, a banana, a bag of chips, a full size Snickers bar, a package of trail mix, a bottle of water, and a drink mix packet to put into the water bottle.  [Miles had 2 full size
Snickers in his box; the kid leads a charmed life.]  If that was a “glorified Lunchable” then I love how the Church glorifies things!   (Multiples meanings here…..]

We walked through a connecting tunnel and were in the choir seats by 1:00 p.m.  As we practiced a few pieces so thcamera crews could prepare, a kind woman approached Lance (who, if you remember, was sitting on the very back row), and said, “Your tie is coming apart” (meaning that the little back part of his tie was poking out from behind the wider, front part of the tie).  She offered him a safety pin so he could fix the problem.  [Imagine what she’d have said if he did not have a suit coat…..]

Please note—the attention given to the details of our appearance was not a result of a vain need to make a perfect appearance.   It was a reflection of the sacredness of the occasion. We would be singing God’s praises to the world and it was imperative that we honor Him by making the best appearance possible.

The Conference Center slowly filled; 21,000 people making their way to their seats.    Time passed more quickly than I expected and soon President Uchtdorf was standing at the podium opening the second session of the 183rd semi-annual conference of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  “Music will be provided by a family choir composed of members of the Roy, Hooper, and Kanesville Stakes," he announced.

We began the conference singing “On This Day of Joy and Gladness”. I felt we were a bit hesitant at first but we found ourselves and finished valiantly.  Over almost before it began, we’d sung our first song in General Conference!

 he second song, “I Know That My Savior Loves Me”, came quickly, right after President Eyring led the sustaining of church officers and before any talks were given.   The song (I included the lyrics at the end of last week’s letter) starts tenderly
with words about Jesus teaching His little ones, includes an anthem-like declaration “I know He lives!” and ends with firm conviction, “I know my Savior loves me”.  There is a beautiful segment where the children rise and sing “Now I am here in a beautiful place, learning the teachings of Jesus…”  I glanced at my Mr. Miles and had to look away.   His countenance was so earnest, his singing so heartfelt; I knew that if I watched him I would choke on my tears when it came my turn to sing.

It was the fastest conference ever.  (And this may be the longest letter ever!)   Long before it seemed like an hour had passed we were singing the intermediate hymn “Press Forward Saints”.

When President Uchtdorf announced that the second to last speaker would be Elder Holland, my heart leapt.  Elder Holland is my favorite apostle.  What a blessing that he would be speaking at this particular session of conference.   When Elder Holland announced the topic of his talk, my heart melted.  He spoke about mental illness, especially about major depressive disorder—a topic that is particularly and specifically relevant to our family.  He spoke with genuine compassion, offered wise, practical counsel, and showed empathetic insight.  With apostolic fervor he promised that bodies and minds will be perfect in the resurrection.  It was a double tender mercy; first that he spoke and second that he spoke about depression.

Elder Ballard’s talk finished the conference.   During his speech Miles whispered to me, referring to the conference
experience, “This is awesome.”  What 9 year old finds 2 hours of religious speeches awesome?  It was not the specific 9 year old, nor was it the specific speeches, that were awesome.  It was the specific Spirit present.  Being in a sacred building in the presence of the prophet of God, listening to apostles of the Lord Jesus Christ testify of Him was a truly awesome experience.  In fact, “awesome” is an inadequate, understated adjective when applied to this but I don’t have any that would be better.

Then, before it seemed possible, Elder Ballard began to end his talk.  An intangible wave of energy swept through our choir. As a body we moved forward in our seats, even before Sister Felstead stood to lead us.  Filled with the Spirit of the truths we’d heard and enabled by the grace of God, we were ready, even eager.   Everyone was totally present in the moment.

Sister Felstead stood….smiled….and signaled for the organist to begin.   The familiar strains of “Love at Home” filled the conference center.   Gently and gracefully we began to sing.  “There is beauty all around when there’s love at home….”   Our vowels were round and our diction clear.   Perhaps most importantly, our hearts were, at that moment, pure.  “In the cottage there is joy,” the men’s deep voices declared, “when there’s love at home.”   The organist began to play a lyrical harmony that danced above the melody as the women sang “Roses bloom beneath our feet, all the Earth’s a garden sweet, making
life bliss complete, when there’s love at home.”

“All the world is filled with love,” all of us sang with building power, “when there’s love at home.”  With  full voices we testified, “Oh there’s One who smiles on high, when there’s love at home…….LOVE AT HOME…”   The organ played the final note and there was silence.   We were still.   The congregation was still.  The moment stood still, a reverent confirmation of the power of the message.   

The final prayer was said and then it was over.  
 
We stood in the choir seats for over 15 minutes, savoring our feelings. I did not want to move. Apparently no one else did
either.  It was a priceless time.  Totally surrounded by my little family—Lance on my left, Chick to my right, Grace, Miles and Tanah directly in front of me—I wished the moment could last forever.   Together in a sacred place, having shared a sacred experience, I felt fully the sanctity of the family, particularly of my family.   I cannot imagine how even heaven could be better. My heart was full.  So were my eyes; tears ran down my face and dripped from my chin.   The scriptures tell of
“unspeakable joy”.    Now I know how it feels.   Words fail. 

Special thanks to Aunt Linda, Uncle Don, and Jennilyn Stoffers. I honestly did not think it mattered to me whether or not anyone was physically there to support us………..until the Stoffers came.   I am dumbfounded by how much having them there in the Conference Center meant to me.   Their physical presence multiplied my joy.   Priceless. 
 
Also priceless was the support we felt from friends and family.  Before the session was even over, Brianna Kent posted pictures of us on Facebook.   Friends and family from all over contacted us. I know Beth and Heidi prayed for us.   My precious sister texted about the double tender mercy of Elder Holland’s talk.  Thank you, thank you to all you who
shared the experience with us.

My heart is still full.

Love,
Teresa


Picture
Grace is having a great hair day.
Picture
We haven't started singing yet.....which could be the reason I am still smiling...
Picture
Tanah's dimples look great. So does the back of Miles' head.
Picture
Singing replaces smiling.....
Picture
2013 Family Choir from the Roy, Kanesville, and Hooper Stakes, featured in the Saturday afternoon session of the 183rd Semi-Annual Session of the General Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.
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    Teresa Hislop
    thislop@msn.com

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