Walking half-barefoot in 4 inches of snow--for a pencil

I’m a wise person. I steal as many good ideas as I can from other people. And I’m pretty darn good at it.

What’s the most common-heard phrase by any teacher? “I forgot my pencil.” I wanted to be a “nice” teacher and not stress about little things that really don’t matter, so at the beginning of the year, I’d just tell students to go up to my desk and grab one when they didn’t have theirs.

Enter the “learning from others” idea. I realized within a week or two that that wasn’t going to work, or I’d be out of pencils by mid-term progress reports! I’d heard of several teachers making students leave something at the teacher’s desk so they would remember to trade the pencil for their article at the end of class and not walk out of the room with the teacher’s pencil. It sounded non-threatening and would accomplish the goal without making a big deal out of such a menial thing.
I decided on a shoe. I’ve heard of several teachers doing this. It’s necessary enough that no students are going to walk out of my class with my pencil and one shoe on. They’d surely remember to give the pencil back so they didn’t have to walk out of the room in their sock.

Or so I thought. Until today. With 4 inches of snow on the ground.

I had 2 students—yes, two, from completely different class periods—come back into my classroom 20 minutes after they had left to get the shoe they had left here.

This would be silly enough if I didn’t work out in a modular (“trailor”) across the parking lot and a small grassy area from the rest of the school. These kids had to walk across the snow-covered grass and ice-covered asphalt—on a shoe-less foot. THEN they remembered.

Go figure.

I asked one girl, as she tied her shoe, “But where’s my pencil?!” She said, “I put it back at the end of class.”

Maybe it’s not as effective as I’d thought.

Life's Lessons: What I've Learned from Writing Thank You Notes

(This and the next 2 posts go hand in hand, so this is "Part 1". For full enjoyment, slowly consume all 3 in prescribed order.)

I have learned (and it’s good Christian doctrine--see "Part 3") that nothing makes you happier than serving. Ok, I’m loving the giddy “life is great!” endorphin high you get after a good run. But I’m talking the deep-down, soul-nourishing, spirit-enriching “feel good” feeling you get after giving of your time, energy, and love to make someone else’s day and/or life better. (Thomas S. Monson might call this a “warm fuzzy” feeling.) It’s an even deeper satisfaction when you have to sacrifice something of your own to lend that service. Maybe that’s why I love my career choice.

But this post isn’t about service. You can read that one below (Life’s Lessons: Jonah vs. Charity). This post is about the next best thing to service: Gratitude.

My mom and dad taught me when I was little to always, always, always write thank you notes for gifts I got from far-away relatives. I did it begrudgingly, figuring they wouldn’t let me play with the toy if I didn’t write the thank you note. Now I’m “older and wiser”, and am fairly faithful about writing thank you notes (although they are usually embarrassingly belated!). I just spent the past 45 minutes writing some long-overdue thank you notes. When I was done, I sat back and felt so good. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because I realized how blessed I am. Maybe because I realized how many good people the Lord has placed in my life. Maybe because I know how much a thoughtful note can mean to me, bringing a smile to my face, tears to my eyes, or just warming my heart. (Whoa, I just sounded like Tommy Monson there!) Or perhaps I saw all those people and their goodness in my life as a manifestation of God’s love for me. But I just felt happy. Gratitude feels good.

I can only imagine the difference this would make if I transferred these principles to my prayers, asking less and thanking more.

You know, gratitude and service kind of go hand in hand. In serving, you are filled with humility, joy, and love. The person you serve is blessed by your service, and thanks you. In that expression of gratitude, the served is filled with humility, joy, and love. And in that thanking, you are blessed by the servee’s thoughtfulness. Maybe gratitude is another way to serve—just inside out—and that’s why it feels so good.

I don’t know—what do you think?

Life's Lessons: Delayed Thanks

(Part 2)

A recent experience with gratitude, with a not-so-recent story behind it:

In convincing me to sit down and write my obligatory thank you notes, my parents always told us the story (and I’ve used it in at least 2 sacrament talks) about Grandma Nielson (is that right, Dad?), our great grandmother, who used to sew a blanket for each great-grandchild every single year and give it to them at Christmas or their birthday. (I know I’m butchering the story, sorry!) This happened year after year, and year after year I begrudgingly wrote a quite “thank you” note. I didn’t realize it, but as the years past, Grandma Nielson got older, her hands got less agile, and there were more and more great grandkids. It wasn’t until years later that we discovered that she had stopped making blankets for our cousins long ago—because we were still getting them every year.

Gratitude goes a long way.

Eleven years ago, my grandfather (“Grandpa Kent”) made beautiful wooden jewelry boxes for my 2 sisters and I for Christmas presents. Inside mine was a simple but lovely sterling silver bracelet he had made, and engraved his name and the date on the inside of it—12/98. It was nice, but I wasn’t into jewelry at that time, so it stayed safely in my jewelry box for years.

It wasn’t until recently, perhaps a year ago, in moving and cleaning things out that I rediscovered it. I found it rather lovely, and began wearing it. It perfectly fits my wrist, personality, and fashion style (what little I have). I didn’t realize until I was working at EFY this summer, wearing “Sunday clothes” 3+ days a week, that I realized how much I was wearing that bracelet, and how much I loved it!

It struck me. My grandfather had made that for me in 1998—11 years ago! How could he or I have ever known how much I would love it and wear it, it being the one bracelet I took with me Alabama for student teaching, Utah for EFY, etc. I was transitioning between poor student and poor teacher, and never would have spent money to buy myself something like this. But his generosity 11 years earlier was blessing my life now, and he had no idea.

So I let him know. I wrote him a thank you note. Not begrudgingly this time. I’m sure I wrote him one 11 years ago, but this time I meant it with all my heart, full of sincerity and love.

I was extremely surprised to receive an unanticipated box in the mail several weeks later from him. I opened it up, and was so touched to find a small, wooden jewelry box he had just made (it still smelled of the stain he used on it). Inside was a note that said, “I’m glad you liked the bracelet. Here is a jewelry box to keep it in.”

Charity never faileth. I guess gratitude’s pretty reliable, too. ;)

Life's Lessons: Jonah vs. Charity

(Part 3)

My “Things I Learned from a 4-year-old Princess” posts are rather slim. (She’s 5 now, by the way.) But I am regrettably now hundreds of miles away from her; so, unfortunately, the additions to that series will be slow to fewer and farther between (even more so than before, if you dedicated bloggers can believe that).

But here’s a new series: “Life’s Lessons”. Maybe I’ll come up with a more creative title soon. Maybe, “Why Didn’t I Think of That?” or “If Wise People Learn from Other’s Mistakes, then I’m a Master Teacher!” or “You’d Think I Would Have Figured That Out By Now” or “Lori Dawn, Don’t You Ever Learn?”. Any ideas?

As I look at who I have become, I often look back to see how I came to be who I am. There are several defining moments in my life, several experiences or lessons or realizations that have truly shaped me into who I am more than any others. Hopefully I’ll get more on here eventually. But today’s is from my freshman year at college and my good friend, Anneli.

Anneli was a year ahead of me at school, but we instantly bonded with our love for music, musicals, and our dramatic personalities. We would often see each other at the institute and tell each other all about our dramatic days. Someone we always seemed to understand one another when no one else fully did.

One afternoon, after a particularly brutal “Jonah Day” (watch Anne of Green Gables for the full effect of that phrase—or better yet, read the Book of Jonah), I was relieved as I walked into the LDS Institute building on campus to find Anneli. As I dramatically expressed the downward spiral of my day, she echoed the exact sentiments back—she’d had one as well! I know I could count on her to commiserate with me! I was so grateful for a friend like her, with whom I could go drown my sorrows in an old movie or a big bowl of ice cream or something equally self-indulgent and self-centered. I opened my mouth to suggest just such a thing, and said, “I know! Let’s go—“ but before I could suggest some fattening, sugary way to cauterize the effects of our days , she replied: “SERVE!”

It was one of those moments when you have no idea what expression is on your face. All you know is that when you finally process what was said, several seconds have passed, and you realize that your mouth is still open and you have no idea what to say next. “Service” was certainly not the message I had intended on conveying to her!

But what did we do? We went to her house, made cookies, and secretly delivered them to several people in our church congregation. And I went home that night feeling so good—I had completely forgotten that I’d ever had a Jonah Day.



President Gordon B. Hinckley learned this principle first-hand and put it so simply when he said, “Do you want to be happy? Forget yourself and get lost in this great cause.” (Preach My Gospel, Ch. 9, pg, 168). That’s a life’s lesson to live by.

Interpretive Music Notation

My 6th grade "Intro to Music" class took a quiz the other day about the basics of reading music: note names, note durations, etc. They did OK, except they kept confusing half- and quarter-notes (and their respective rests)--a fairly necessary skill in order to read music!

We reviewed it in class the following day. After some group instruction, to do a quick formative assessment and some more practice, I said, "Draw me a quarter note in the air." They did it with their fingers in the air in front of them. "Now draw a...half rest!"

I don't remember who said it (OK, I have a good idea of who...), but out of the blue, one of the BOYS said, "We should dance around the room and you call out a name and we have to do it!" Remember, this is 6th grade, OK? We're talking 11- and 12-year-olds, not little kids. I said, "Really?" And almost the whole class chimed in, "Yeah!!!"

So I put on the 1st movement of Dvorak's "New World Symphony". They all started interpretive dancing to it. Seriously. I thought I was going to die. It was hysterical. I then call out, "Half note!" Some stop and draw it with their fingers. Some shape their bodies into it. Some get on the floor and squirm around to look like the note. Then they keep dancing.

We did it for probably 2 1/2 minutes. I didn't know if I'd be able to compose myself afterwards.

I love my job. I think I learn more from them sometimes than I learn from myself.

"Bubbly"

My middle school darlings and I had our first choir concert of the year (my first one EVER!) on Thursday night. It was a great success. More on that later (maybe).

Our assistant principal, Mrs. Gohl, got up to welcome everyone to the concert, and told the story of how she and I met and how I got hired. She said, "I met a very happy, bubbly young woman..." Which is an incredibly accurate description of me.

In my 6th grade the next day, we were talking about how the concert had gone. One of my girls raised her hand and said, doubtful, "Was that story Mrs. Gohl told about you true?" I said it was. She looked suprised. I retold the story, clarifying a few details.

I looked back at her and she still looked really puzzled...or concerned. So I questioned her. She said, "But, were you really...all...bubbly?" I said, "Yes...just like I always am, all smiley and happy..."

She said, "Oh! I thought when she said bubbly that it meant that you had, like, bubbles or something all over your face!"

She thought I'd walked into my interview with my face covered in blisters or something.

The whole class then piped in to confess, unabashed, what they thought she had meant by "bubbly":

-Blowing bubbles in Mrs. Gohl's face with those soapy bubbles and "magic wands" kids use
-Chewing gum and blowing and popping bubbles with it
-Fat
-Puffing my cheeks out with air (looking like a blowfish, you know?)
-Gassy

Looks like we need to work on vocabulary next quarter. :)

Can you see why I love my job?

Anne's Alluring Addresses

I love Colorado Springs. It is just a beautiful place. We all know that the text of "America the Beautiful" was written by Katharine Lee Bates, inspired by the view she saw from the top of Pikes Peak (which I can see from my front door. I love this place.).

But what most people don't know, is that she must have been good friends with Anne of Green Gables and convinced the Co Springs government to bring her down here to name the streets. Or at least that's all I can figure out. How else would you get names like:

Nonchalant Cir.
Carefree Cir.
Scenic Cir.
Jubilant Place
Picturesque Dr.
Delighted Cir.
Undimmed Cir.
Blissful Cir.
Splendid Cr.
Hopeful Dr.
Amiable Way
Inspiration Dr.

But my favorites have a story: My very first night here, I went running. I was going up a huge hill (which I soon realized is ALL that Co Springs has--great hill training)--like, it wasn't ending. And I was NOT used to 6000 ft. elevation. I was dying. With perfect timing, I passed a street sign that made me laugh outloud. It was too appropriate. The sign read:

Purgatory Dr.
(Can you imagine living on that street--"Where do you live?" "Purgatory.")

But it gets better--I continued on, and the first street on the downhill had a sign that read:

Deliverance Dr.

Emerging from the depths of middle school

Guess this blogging thing isn't as "me" as it is some other people. I always have these funny or inspiring things to share, and then never get around to sharing them.

But I'm on break now--woo hoo! 2 whole weeks!!! (I'm digging this year-round thing.) So I'll be writing several posts to catch up on the past 3 months or so...as you read them, pretend they're spaced out and posted every 2 weeks, or so, yeah?