Last Saturday I took my Young Women to the Road Home in Salt Lake to serve breakfast to the homeless. It was really fun and an amazing experience. Afterwards, we stood around talking to some of the regular volunteers. One of the older volunteers asked me, "So do you all go to Bingham?" While my Young Women didn't pick up on the fact that he thought I was one of them, I realized it right away (this happens pretty often!) So I just said, "yup, we do."
I wonder how long it would take before I look like the YW President and not one of the girls. Until I'm 30? 35? Hopefully I get released before then!
Saturday, April 03, 2010
Because I now have a daughter, I've been thinking a lot about my memories from my own childhood. Just the other day I was at Taipan and saw they had a cage full of tiny baby chicks. This sparked a memory I had of my Dad. It was just before Easter and I was about 14 years old when he came to me and said that he wanted to take me to get a surprise. Because my Dad is a big jokester, I wasn't sure what to expect. I followed him to the car, but despite my questions he wouldn't tell me where we were going or what we were doing. A little while later we pulled into the IFA in Draper. I was seriously at a loss, and thought he needed to get something there for the yard and just wanted company on the drive. Again, I followed him as he walked inside and went straight to crates full of tiny peeping chicks. I remember he didn't really say much, he just started looking at them and told me to pick out three. I don't recall him or I talking about what we would do with the chicks once they were grown, we were both just thinking about what was happening right then and there - my Dad was getting me a fun present, something totally random and irrational, a present that was something he and I shared a love for -- animals.
I remember I was kind of scared to hold the chicks. They were wiggly, their nails were scratchy, and I could feel every bone in their fragile, little bodies. I picked out two yellow ones and one reddish colored one and took them home in a cardboard box. When we got home, my Mom just laughed and helped me learn how to hold them. We set up a little nest for them in the warm furnace room under a lamp. I don't remember what I named all of them, I just remember that I named one “Nugget” and people thought it was so mean! I doubt them were very playful pets, but I can remember taking them out in the backyard and they would follow me, hopping and fluttering. When I laid down on the grass they would huddle next to me, trying to get warm. One day I found an egg in their cardboard nest and we knew the fun was over. My Dad called up my uncle who lives in rural Utah and he agreed to add my three chicks to his little farm. They were fun little toys for a while, but I was ready for them to get on with their lives without me!
It’s funny how memories like this one of my Dad stand out so strongly in my mind. I had a good relationship with my Dad growing up, but this memory makes me realize how important it is for Bret to have one-on-one time with his baby chick, Violet, so they can have fun together and build their own special relationship.