With Thanksgiving quickly approaching, I decided to write about ten things that I am very grateful for (once a day for ten days). It's important to note that these aren't in order of importance- just by what pops into my head first.
Item #1: Music.
Music is my love. No, it's more than that. It's my passion and life force. It keeps my world revolving, fuels my emotions, and feeds my imagination. It's constantly on my mind, both consciously and subconsciously. I hear it all around me, all the time. Many times I'll be sitting in class and someone's computer will beep, followed closely by a door squeaking out in the hallway. Instantly my mind picks up on the pitches, and a song with the exact same notes gets stuck in my head. I bet it happens at least twice a day.
People often mistake my passion with pride because I am constantly critiquing others. I don't mean to sound prideful. Music is more than just a talent or hobby to me; it's a way of life. And let's be honest- anyone who truly knows me knows: 1) how passionate I can be about certain things and 2) that I often say things before thinking them through. Put those two together and you get one stuck-up sounding musician. In realty, while I may complain about the fellow pounding "Waterfall" in the practice room next door, I really admire people who try new things and work to improve the talents they already have (those who remain stagnant, however, drive me nuts!). The difference lies between the person who plays "Waterfall" at every single talent show for the rest of their lives, and the person who learns to play "Waterfall," and then moves on to learn "Claire de Lune," followed by "Prelude in C-sharp Minor." It's all about progress.
I'm grateful for music. It brings the Spirit into my life. It drives me forward and challenges me to do better. It gives me something to be proud of- look at all I've accomplished in just thirteen short years. It's my love and my life, and without it I would be an empty shell. It's my way of life. It's who I am.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Saturday, November 6, 2010
The Immigrant
I was going through my home bedroom closet this morning and found the following story that I started writing my freshman year of high school.
The London alleyway was dark and filthy. There was a sense of foreboding in the air. But Henry Williams didn't even hesitate at the entrance. He hurried through the darkness, stepping over the bodies of sleeping tramps. He ignored their rude remarks. He must get his daughter to the doctor before it's too late. He looked down into his arms. She was sleeping so peacefully. Her soft, innocent face was calm and pale. Her golden blond hair was shining with seat. She was so young, only about five years old.
He came to an abrupt stop in front of an old door and knocked quickly, but quietly. There was a moment's pause and the door opened a crack. Henry could see an old man peering at him.
"What do you want?" the old man growled.
"My little girl is sick," Henry said. "Please, sir, please help her."
The old man opened the door the rest of the way. His gray hair and long beard was unkept and tangled. His clothes were filthy and stained. He reached out a gnarled hand and touched the little girl's forehead.
"There is nothing I can do," he mumbled.
"There must be something!" Henry snapped. The old man tried to hold Henry's eyes, but he couldn't. He looked away. "She's dead."
Tears formed in Henry's eyes. "No," he whispered.
"I can get rid of the body for you, if you want," the old man said. But there was no compassion in his voice.
"No!" Henry shouted. "She isn't dead! She can't be!"
The old man leaned forward and started to pull the body away. Henry gave his sweet, innocent girl one last hug, then let the old man drag her inside. The door closed and Henry was left alone. He crawled over against the wall and started sobbing. He was all alone now, and the light of his life had been taken cruelly by fate from him.
Henry awoke the next morning with the sun shining in his face and he sat up. First his wife had died giving childbirth to his third child. Then his oldest son had died in a horrible house fire, which made Henry and his youngest child, Anna, homeless. They had lived on the streets for two years, until Anna contracted a terrible disease. That was just two days ago. Now Henry was alone. He had no family. Henry stood up and made his way to the alley entrance.
Main Street was bright and busy when Henry stepped out of the dark alleyway. He paused for a moment to look at his surroundings. Wagons and carriages were bustling up and down the street. On the corner to his left, a newspaper boy was selling the morning paper. Merchants were just opening their shops. People hurried up and down the sidewalk, dressed in the latest fashion. Henry's gaze fell upon a group of people standing around in a circle. Curious, he headed over to the group.
As he got closer, he could see a man in the center of the group. He was standing on an old soapbox. He was dressed nicely, although his clothes were a little travel worn. Henry moved closer to try to hear what he was saying.
"This book is another testament of Christ. It tells about the ancient people in the Americas, ancestors to the Indians. It's like having another Bible. I swear to you, that if you read this book and pray about it, you will know if what I saw is true or not."
Some people grumbled and left. Other people said rude remarks to the man. But Henry was determined to see what this book was about. He walked up to the man and held out his hand. The man shook his hand vigorously.
"The name's Henry Williams."
"Brigham Young," the man replied. Henry could see that the man looked tired, but his eyes seemed joyful and young.
"How much for one of your books?" Henry asked.
Brigham smiled. "I'll pay the cost for you, as long as you promise me that you'll read and pray about it"
"Thank you," Henry said. "I will."
"If you have any questions, feel free to ask me," Brigham said. "I'll be on this side of town for another three days."
"Where are you staying?" Henry asked.
Brigham pointed up the street. "Just up there, in the Perkins family home. If you have questions, bring them by anytime. Mr. and Mrs. Perkins are good people."
Brigham Young handed him a book and shook his hand again. Henry thanked him graciously and said goodbye. He hurried off of the street and into a city park. He walked around for a while and then decided to sit down in the shade of a giant elm tree. He couldn't stop thinking about his daughter. Tears formed in his eyes. Just last week, they had sat under this very tree, laughing and being merry. They hadn't thought that it would end like this. He wiped the tears from his eyes, cracked open the book, and started reading.
And that's all I have!! Should I finish it?
The London alleyway was dark and filthy. There was a sense of foreboding in the air. But Henry Williams didn't even hesitate at the entrance. He hurried through the darkness, stepping over the bodies of sleeping tramps. He ignored their rude remarks. He must get his daughter to the doctor before it's too late. He looked down into his arms. She was sleeping so peacefully. Her soft, innocent face was calm and pale. Her golden blond hair was shining with seat. She was so young, only about five years old.
He came to an abrupt stop in front of an old door and knocked quickly, but quietly. There was a moment's pause and the door opened a crack. Henry could see an old man peering at him.
"What do you want?" the old man growled.
"My little girl is sick," Henry said. "Please, sir, please help her."
The old man opened the door the rest of the way. His gray hair and long beard was unkept and tangled. His clothes were filthy and stained. He reached out a gnarled hand and touched the little girl's forehead.
"There is nothing I can do," he mumbled.
"There must be something!" Henry snapped. The old man tried to hold Henry's eyes, but he couldn't. He looked away. "She's dead."
Tears formed in Henry's eyes. "No," he whispered.
"I can get rid of the body for you, if you want," the old man said. But there was no compassion in his voice.
"No!" Henry shouted. "She isn't dead! She can't be!"
The old man leaned forward and started to pull the body away. Henry gave his sweet, innocent girl one last hug, then let the old man drag her inside. The door closed and Henry was left alone. He crawled over against the wall and started sobbing. He was all alone now, and the light of his life had been taken cruelly by fate from him.
Henry awoke the next morning with the sun shining in his face and he sat up. First his wife had died giving childbirth to his third child. Then his oldest son had died in a horrible house fire, which made Henry and his youngest child, Anna, homeless. They had lived on the streets for two years, until Anna contracted a terrible disease. That was just two days ago. Now Henry was alone. He had no family. Henry stood up and made his way to the alley entrance.
Main Street was bright and busy when Henry stepped out of the dark alleyway. He paused for a moment to look at his surroundings. Wagons and carriages were bustling up and down the street. On the corner to his left, a newspaper boy was selling the morning paper. Merchants were just opening their shops. People hurried up and down the sidewalk, dressed in the latest fashion. Henry's gaze fell upon a group of people standing around in a circle. Curious, he headed over to the group.
As he got closer, he could see a man in the center of the group. He was standing on an old soapbox. He was dressed nicely, although his clothes were a little travel worn. Henry moved closer to try to hear what he was saying.
"This book is another testament of Christ. It tells about the ancient people in the Americas, ancestors to the Indians. It's like having another Bible. I swear to you, that if you read this book and pray about it, you will know if what I saw is true or not."
Some people grumbled and left. Other people said rude remarks to the man. But Henry was determined to see what this book was about. He walked up to the man and held out his hand. The man shook his hand vigorously.
"The name's Henry Williams."
"Brigham Young," the man replied. Henry could see that the man looked tired, but his eyes seemed joyful and young.
"How much for one of your books?" Henry asked.
Brigham smiled. "I'll pay the cost for you, as long as you promise me that you'll read and pray about it"
"Thank you," Henry said. "I will."
"If you have any questions, feel free to ask me," Brigham said. "I'll be on this side of town for another three days."
"Where are you staying?" Henry asked.
Brigham pointed up the street. "Just up there, in the Perkins family home. If you have questions, bring them by anytime. Mr. and Mrs. Perkins are good people."
Brigham Young handed him a book and shook his hand again. Henry thanked him graciously and said goodbye. He hurried off of the street and into a city park. He walked around for a while and then decided to sit down in the shade of a giant elm tree. He couldn't stop thinking about his daughter. Tears formed in his eyes. Just last week, they had sat under this very tree, laughing and being merry. They hadn't thought that it would end like this. He wiped the tears from his eyes, cracked open the book, and started reading.
And that's all I have!! Should I finish it?
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Bucket List
I got on facebook last night before I climbed into bed and I saw that one of my high school classmates had posted her bucket list. She had a hundred items on the list and she had already started to check many of them off; this inspired me to rewrite my bucket list (since I've already accomplished many of my things). Here's what I've come up with so far. Feel free to add input or ideas. :D
1. Play "Come, Come Ye Saints" on the organ in all of the LDS Tabernacles (Brigham City and Salt Lake are accomplished).
2. Master a piano concerto.
3. Live in New York City.
4. Read the entire Book of Mormon in Spanish.
5. Go to Nauvoo and see the bullet holes in the Carthage jail door.
6. Walk the Mormon Pioneer Trail.
7. Perform on a Steinway Piano in front of an audience. X
8. Go to Sweden or Germany around Christmas time.
9. Give anonymously to a charity.
10. Go on an Alaskan cruise.
11. Run at least a half marathon.
12. Be a vegetarian for at least 3 months or a vegan for at least 1 month.
13. Write an article/paper that gets published.
14. Watch The Lord of the Rings trilogy back-to-back.
15. Own a grand piano.
16. Eat so many beets that my pee turns red.
17. Own a house in Cache Valley.
18. Grow old with the person I love.
19. Do temple work for one of my ancestors.
20. Shake hands with the prophet (whoever he may be at the time).
21. Sincerely invite a non-member friend to come to church with me, and bear my testimony to that individual.
22. See the Northern Lights.
23. Go to a cemetery on Halloween night.
24. Drive a convertible down main street with the top rolled down, blasting music.
25. Run for city council.
Well, it's a good start at least! :)
1. Play "Come, Come Ye Saints" on the organ in all of the LDS Tabernacles (Brigham City and Salt Lake are accomplished).
2. Master a piano concerto.
3. Live in New York City.
4. Read the entire Book of Mormon in Spanish.
5. Go to Nauvoo and see the bullet holes in the Carthage jail door.
6. Walk the Mormon Pioneer Trail.
7. Perform on a Steinway Piano in front of an audience. X
8. Go to Sweden or Germany around Christmas time.
9. Give anonymously to a charity.
10. Go on an Alaskan cruise.
11. Run at least a half marathon.
12. Be a vegetarian for at least 3 months or a vegan for at least 1 month.
13. Write an article/paper that gets published.
14. Watch The Lord of the Rings trilogy back-to-back.
15. Own a grand piano.
16. Eat so many beets that my pee turns red.
17. Own a house in Cache Valley.
18. Grow old with the person I love.
19. Do temple work for one of my ancestors.
20. Shake hands with the prophet (whoever he may be at the time).
21. Sincerely invite a non-member friend to come to church with me, and bear my testimony to that individual.
22. See the Northern Lights.
23. Go to a cemetery on Halloween night.
24. Drive a convertible down main street with the top rolled down, blasting music.
25. Run for city council.
Well, it's a good start at least! :)
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