Dear Daddy,

1.Thanks for all those fishin' trips. I can still taste the raw corn and smell the lake water. My fascination for everything in your tackle box are still fresh in my memory from the neon colored bait to the jar of red fish eggs. I wonder if that purple dino pole and smiley-face bobber is still around...

2.  Thanks for all the silly stories before bedtime. Even when my friends came over for sleep overs. I was the envy of them all :) And I still remember the ones about the fat gummy bear who finally saw his toes and as the tomato who was terrified to "catch-up".

3. Thanks for teaching me how to fix my bike and now my car. And for showing me life's best roads to take them down.

4. For working your tail end off. Whenever I feel overwhelmed all I need is glance at the length of your daily to-do list.

5. I love the way you make friends with the guy getting gas on the other side of the meter, the cashier in Safeway, and anyone else who crosses your path. I've been with you when you helped people with their flooded basements and I've caught you cutting wood for people. I'm always proud to say your name when people ask who's daughter I am.

6. For playing with us. Whether its baseball, videogames, or restaurant coasters.

7. Thanks for the horse rides and the round-ups. I'll have fun telling my college roomates about them.

8. I love your laugh. And how you always knowing just what will make me laugh.

9. For being able to fix anything and everything. I vaguely remember wanting to test your skills at one pointby asking if you could fix a rock--obviously the strongest element there was. You probably don't remember but you said it was easy; just use super-glue. I've since been convinced that no one can top you. Whether its super-gluing a rock, my favorite toy, or my broken heart.

10. Thanks for all those father's blessings. Even if my problems sounded silly, you always seemed to recognize that they were real to me.

12. Thanks for loving Mom! And for the gentle suggestions to help her around the house.

13. Thanks for your love for the outdoors and helping me appreciate it as well. And for sharing your talents. I still remember the birthday party where all my friends and I made bows and arrows out of tamarack.

14. For that poem that I ran across one day on Mom's blog. It brought tears to my eyes and I think I'm going to print it out and bring it with me when I leave. That way I can cry some more when I'm there.

15. For sitting out on the porch and sharpening your arrows waiting for my first date to show up :)

16. For brake checks in the truck.

17. Thanks for that one night when you stayed up late with me on the couch giggling at my newest VeggieTales movie. Perhaps there's a deeper reason to why I haven't been able to let go of those.

18. For the random phone calls just to say hi and the random notes on my pillow just to say I love you.

19. For encouraging me in everything I do. Whether its writing, piano, clay, my knack of puzzles when I was little, reading, trying to make friends, or  attempting to do my own hair for a dance.

20. Thanks for your constant imagination! Like the time you quenched my boredom by flipping through the channels on our T.V. to teach me how old members of our family were.

21. For daddy-daughter dates and long conversations in the car.

 I guess what I'm trying to say is thanks for letting me be one of the luckiest daughters on earth!  You made my childhood magical and my teenage years exciting. I got to be one of the little girls who the first guy she ever fell in love with was her daddy. All those college boys have a lot to live up to!

A Joyful Noise

So now that I'm 18 and I've graduated I've only actually gone to Relief Society once. Long enough to try and smile as they welcome me and every head turns my direction. And long enough to hear a much needed lesson.  A great place! I'm sure once I'm a full-fledged member I will come to embrace it.  But, as of now, I have been called as the Primary Chorister.

At first I thought, sure. I can do that. Afterall, I feel more like myself around little kids than I do my peers (not sure what that's supposed to tell about me...). But, the more questions I asked and the more I thought about it, the more my constant companion, Ms. Anxiety, kicked in. First off, I've been told my entire life to speak up. When I write it's no problem. My ideas flow and the keyboard clicks up a storm. I can laugh really loud too. But speaking? Over an entire classroom of wiggles and squirms? I wasn't so sure.

I also talk really fast. I tend to eat fast, walk fast, read fast, draw fast, get ready in the morning fast, play the piano fast--the only thing that I don't do fast is run. So what if I rushed through every thing and couldn't fill up even the measly twenty minutes I was allotted each class?

What if the kids got bored? What if I overdid things? What if the building blew up?!

It was silly but I even had dreams about it. Dreams! Of missing hand puppets and intimidating audiences.

I've since decided that if there's one thing I'm supposed to learn here in mortality, its to relax.

Anyways, prayers were obviously said and I mentally ran through all that I had planned twenty times. Because, for some really strange reason, the girl who found excuses to watch the Swan Princess on Saturday nights and played pretend on Sunday nights couldn't face a bunch of primary children.

And those prayers were answered. From the get go even. My neighbor's little girl came in and, at the sight of me, began jumping up and down, "Dolly, Dolly Dolly, Dolly, Dolly, Dolly!!" The other leaders just turned to me with a smirk, "Welcome, Sister Hansen."

I also discovered that this month's song is "Nephi's Courage", reminding me that the Lord provides a way. Whoever decides those types of things knows what they're doing.

Then, of course, the warm feelings telling me to calm down. Those feelings I need to learn to trust in more often.

But, as it usually seems to go, most answers came in the form of people. I was immediatly given encouragement, ideas, and pointers out the wazoo. Schedules and supplies were given, visiting teachers visited, and my mom had lots of wisdom to share.

Even in the actual class. People reminded me when to get up, the piano player whispered to me the page numbers and suggested songs, and the kids actually got into some of what I was doing. I even got a cookie from one of the teachers at the end because I 'did so good'.

I'm really going to need this calling. The simple lessons, the energy, the humor--all of it! Trying to prepare for a complicated world has unravled me a little but the excitement in the kids' eyes and the randomly shouted answers do the trick well. And I think someone already knew it would.

I've been told I'm good with kids but I think what it really is is that kids are good with me. Though I'm sure when I have my own I will find them more tiring, for now I find them refreshing. They boost my ego like nobody's business and remind me that I don't need to take life so darn seriously.  And so I've decided to "go and do". To grab those in tact hand puppets and soak up the obnoxious, rambunctious but joyful noise.