Trek Journals:

Hey, Hungary!
    I told you a little about trek already, but I wanted a place to keep the journal entries I'd written, and since I'd only told you a little, I figured this would be good in case you wanted the deets.

June 18, 2015
     Today was long, but it was good. There were some big hills we had to go down. They called it "Gravel Hill" which is easy enough to figure since there were some crazy rocks we would have to sand-surf down. I was so scared we would lose control of the cart and tumble down, but we all pulled equally enough that the handcart made it down without any troubles. I guess it just goes to show that in the gospel pulling your weight along with the ward family goes a long way with helping each other make it home again.
      We were all so tired when the camp finally came into view, but we still had to cross the river. When we got to the water's edge, bishop had us gather in a circle and he gave us a devotional and read some accounts of the Martin/Willie river crossings. It wasn't anything I hadn't heard before, but suddenly, as we sat on the brink of crossing our own river, it all became so much more real. It seemed as though I could feel the fatigue of all of those saints crossing the freezing rivers and I felt the great appreciation for those men and boys who stayed in all day to help the others across. I was really impressed by the spirit of goodwill and service that really embodied the pioneers. It was a very spiritual experience. 
       Our river, in contrast to those crossed before, only rose a few inches above my ankles and was barely colder than room temperature. I was almost disappointed that we didn't get the full experience, but I could just imagine the trials of the others and I counted myself lucky despite all of it. 
      Then we came into camp and, an hour or so later, had a hot dinner of pulled pork, corn, and watermelon. Again we were so much more blessed than the real pioneers. We danced the Virginia Reel and had a fireside where actors told the stories of miracles that took place here nearly 200 years ago because of the faith of the people. I was amazed by it all. After "Singing in the Sage" (a creative twist on "Singing in the Trees" from girl's camp) we headed off to our beds. 
      I was so glad to e lying down and finally be able to rest. And then I woke up from the cold several, several times during the night even though I had a shirt, a sweatshirt, leggings, pajama pants, and a heavy sleeping bag on. It got so cold I, at one point, thought to myself, "It's so cold I'm freezing to death!" But at that moment I almost gasped at my being so inconsiderate. I began thinking of all of those  that had come before, had slept where I then slept, in the middle of the winter no less, and actually had frozen to death. 
     If anything it was a very humbling experience to get me out of my spoiled attitude. I though to myself that no matter how bad I think things are, others had it much much worse.

June 19, 2015
      We have just finished the women's pull and now I am sitting on top of a mountain surrounded by my ward family. 
      It was intimidating at the beginning. We watched the men walk away and we were left alone. Only, we weren't really alone. I had my sisters with me and I had Mama Kandell with me, but more than that we had the pioneer spirit with us. 
      I admit, at first, I had wanted to take the spot on the handcart that took the least amount of work because I was afraid of the difficulty that might come. And then I thought to myself, "It doesn't matter where you are--you've got to get your family to the top of this hill, so where ever you are, pull with all you've got."
      Before we began (and before the men left) there'd been a priesthood prayer that we would have the spirits of those that had been on the trail before us and that if it would be Heavenly Father's will that we could see angels. I imagined what it would be like to see an angel. But as we reached that hill there were numerous angels around me: they were my sisters pulling beside me; they were teh women like Mama Kandell who helped the other carts because we had one more person than everyone else; they were even the men off to the side who encouraged us without words or pulling, but by the simple act of holding their hands (and hats) over their hearts as we passed. And then there was one man at the head of the hill standing as silent as the others, only he was not covering his heart for us. Instead, he was dressed in an all-white temple suit and stood as a representative of all who had gone before. I wondered at first whether or not he was an actual angel until I saw his stake dog-tag peaking out from his suit. And that was the moment I knew that angels weren't always on the other side of the veil.

They told us this story in the women's devotional before we headed out of a woman who joined the church after her cousin back in England introduced it to her. After a few weeks on the trail she became upset because she was so weak but she desperately wanted to walk all the way to Zion. Well, she stayed strong and walked the 1000 miles and when the Martin/Willie rescuers came and she saw it was someone she had known back in England, she went up to him and recorded later in her journal that he burst into tears when he saw her. When she asked why, he said, "Because you look so hungry and the food wagons are still another week away." But he gave her an onion and instead of keeping it to herself, she took it to another man who was almost passing away.
      This story really impressed me with the true character of the pioneers. There wasn't a member of their company that didn't wholly serve all those around them. They were nothing unless selfless. And they gave up everything all for the love of their God. I only wish I could have that strength.

Earlier today we were going up a hill and dad was coming up from behind and said to the Kandells, "I just wanted to make sure my girl was pulling her weight." (But it was jokingly, like he does) and then Papa Kandell said, "Oh yes. She's a monster." And Mama Kandell added, "A bright, beautiful monster."  And in my head I was like, "But she wore it wonderfully well." (Which, of course, is from Cinderella.) And then we made it to the top of one of the hill and everyone started shouting and cheering because we made it and all I could think was "Hurrah! Hurrah for Israel!" 

Because Sometimes Life:

Hey, Hungary!
 
      Okay, so I've got a joke for you this week: what do you call a lot of high school drama that's all really one-sided and it's just your friends making everything complicated? Oh, wait. Not a joke. It's my life.
     Remember there was that one time with that one boy and the Monya and Jackie Chan were bugging him about taking me out? Well he hasn't asked yet and they're now bugging me because I'm in love with a "jerk". But I'm like so what if it's been two weeks? He says he's too busy (which is true since he's got an internship and finals week and he's been sick).
     Okay, so "busy". Even though I believe that he is busy, it feels like avoidance. Which is actually fine with me because you know how I am in social situations, and I've started overthinking again and now I'm like "NEVER talk to people ever again!" and going into full introvert mode. And it's not like I'm in love with him. I like him; he's attractive and nice, but it's not like we're gonna get married, so I don't really care that much that he's busy.
      But I still wanted to be friends, though. And I finally got up the courage to write my phone number in his yearbook...except for he skipped out on yearbook day so I didn't even see him. Lame. And then again it was actually a good thing I didn't give him my number because shortly after yearbook day my phone had a brain spasm and is now quite dead.
      And now it is summer.
     Beautiful summer where I don't have to talk to boys and don't have to care about school and drama, which I didn't even know was a thing a little over a month ago. And so I am left in a blissful ignorance.
   Sorry this was a short (and somewhat ridiculous) post; I'll write more later when my life is interesting again. But, hey, thanks for listening (or reading or whatever).
   
   Love America