And a Little Child Shall Lead Them...

Isaiah 11:6 -- The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them.

I think I often underestimate kids. Every time I go home and visit my little brother or my cousins, I'm reminded of this. At times, they undermine all my "intelligence" "knowledge," and "maturity," in one fell swoop. I think about how often the scriptures counsel us to repent and humble ourselves to become as little children. And I wonder... if we study little children, and spend time with them, is it possible to capture some of that wonder and enchantment... is it possible for those of us who are "learned and wise" to remember how to be "a child"? What would that look like? And what exactly did Christ mean when he said that, and how do we enact that commandment-- to become again as little children?

I think that Jonathan Safran Foer has been able in some ways to do this in his book "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close." I just ordered it on half.com, so if you know me, I might let you borrow it. Many of you have read it. It's about a kid named Oscar, 8 years old, whose father (in the story) died in the Twin Towers. The book is his attempt to come to terms with that death, and pull together other loose strands from his family's frayed and fragmented past.



It's one of my new favorite books, the kind you fall in love with from page one. And one of the reasons I love it so much is because of Oscar's voice. It is full of throbbing pain and heartache, but under-girded with equal amounts of love, hope, and redemption. I would argue with anyone who says it's simply "sentimental," because I believe it's one of the most important books that has been written in recent years. I think in writing this, Foer has in some sense redirected Post-modernism (this literary era we consider ourselves to be in) for the better. But that's another post for another day.

We still have so much to learn. And that's ok. :)

Anyway.

Here are some other kids who just won my heart over. I know that the "scary" Second Coming is supposed to be upon us, but I'm just going say: if this is what is "slouching toward Bethlehem to be born"(below), bring it on. I'll be a tickled observer. Just check out these gals:

The story of Jonah from Corinth Baptist Church on Vimeo.

(This first one just made me chuckle. I really hope that my daughter is this animated.)

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

(A couple things I noticed after getting over my own feelings of guitar inadequacy: That's a FULL-SIZE guitar-- freak, it's almost bigger than her body! And look how little her fingers are! Even people with normal sized fingers have a hard time playing a full-size guitar, let alone bar chords. And she's got her theory down-pat. Incredible. I almost can't believe she's from this planet. I wondered until the point in the song where she starts smiling. Definitely human.)

Ojala

I don't remember Fall being so beautiful. I'm normally a summer girl all around. But these yellow leaves are giving the green a run for their money. And the temperature!!!

Anyway, when I was at the bank today, I found out that I had a late fee of fifteen dollars for sixteen cents I hadn't paid on something else. Sigh. The teller told me once, and I asked her to just take care of it with my paycheck money. She told me that I had only been a few days late on it, and that she was so sorry. Thank you for driving the dagger deeper, teller lady, please don't remind me anymore of what an idiot I am for letting this happen.

But it wasn't her fault, and she was just trying to be sympathetic. I just wanted to pretend it didn't happen to me or my credit.

At the stoplight on University Parkway and State in Orem, I watched a girl and a man with a cane walk in front of me on the crosswalk. They looked to be about in their mid-thirties. One of the trucks waiting in a few lanes after mine pulled forward over that one white line, either bumping the man with the cane, or inciting him to stumble out of the way quickly. I don't know whether he meant to or not. The man with the cane flipped the guy in the truck off, and the guy in the truck rolled down his window angrily and (it seemed like) started yelling at the girl and the man with the cane while they waited for the lights to change. And it made my heart hurt.

Sometimes, I wonder about all the people in the world. All the people that are, and all the people that ever were. I wonder how, even in Provo, we will only ever meet a handful of people who go about us every day. And how intricate each life is, with all the strands that are so delicatley interwoven. You wait at an intersection in your car, next to other cars, across from other cars, watching the faces of people turning left as they drive by. People that you'll never know. Cars, people, souls... just passing. Like ships in the night.

How do we relate with each other in this thoroughly modernized world? Unless we remain ignorant, how do we handle this world without feeling incredibly lonely, confused, misunderstood, or inadequate? How do we surmount difference?

I was trying to think through this impossible dilemma while walking around Macy's Department store trying to find myself a coat for winter. I was sorting through a sale rack when a woman said "Excuse me." I turned. It was a short, petite woman with a heavy latin accent. "What size are you?" she asked, holding a black jacket. I was somewhat taken aback (A/N: in America, people don't normally greet complete strangers with this type of question :)). "It depends. Probably a large or medium in juniors." She smiled, "I have a granddaughter who is close your size," she said. "You think this would fit you?" "Do you want me to try it on?" I asked her. She nodded, so I set my purse down and pulled the jacket over my head, worked it around my body. It fit. "Where are you from?" I asked her. "Lima, Peru." she said.
I started to speak with her in my fragmented spanish. "¿Tu nieta... ella tiene--?," and then I motioned because I forgot the word for "pechas" and didn't know how to say "busty" in Spanish. She laughed, and started to speak to me in Spanish. "Hablas Espanol?" "Poquito. Estoy asistiendo en una clase de la Universidad."

We kept talking. I found out her name was Adita, that she had been in the United states for seven years, but still struggled with the language. I sympathized with her and told her, in Spanglish, that I felt the same way about her language. I told her I wanted to go to a Spanish speaking country so I could REALLY learn. She told me I should go to Bolivia or Peru. I told her I wanted to go to Spain because "it has Barcelona." She said yes, it was very hermosa (beautiful) there, that another of her granddaughters is doing medical work there.

At the end of our conversation, she said if I ever wanted to practice Spanish, I could come over to her house. And I nodded. And then she told me her address. How'bout that? In the middle of the mall.

"You come over to my house and teacha me in Englesh, and tell me how I say wrong. And I will teacha you Spanish."

I laughed, and said that would be fun. And the one thing I wish we did less of as Americans, or Mormons, or whatever, is say "oh, that would be fun" or say "yeah, sure that would be great to do" when we don't really mean it. Because I knew she was serious.

Then she asked, "You are single?"

"Si," i said.

"Oh, that is wonderful. I have two boys. They are good boys. Son guapos."

"Entonces, tal vez vendria."

And then we parted. I regretted that I had forgotten to address her as "usted." I hoped she didn't mind.

And as I walked away from her, I was impressed by what had happened. I think we take these kinds of experiences for granted. I think we pass them by a lot, too. We avert our eyes when we could smile.

And maybe it's because I was kind of having an existential crisis before (Ok, I was), that this incident struck me with more force. But if we as humans can stitch ourselves together like that, with tiny threads of shared moments and open hearts, maybe we can somehow start to suture up the wounds of our world. If we can remember what's important.

Or will it just make me feel better? I don't mean this to say sentimentally "let's all help each other" because it sounds nice. I mean to say it because I believe it's absolutely vital. I don't know if it would solve everything. Probably not. I still get confused about navigating my way through this life. Lots of things are complicated. But if not this, then what?

I wish that it could happen like it does in "The Little Prince." That Fox knows what he's talking about. Listen!

And I wonder what would happen if I were to show up at her house someday. She would probably give me a besito on my cheek like my grandma does sometimes. What if?

Peace!

Peace Day was on September 24th. In July/August, I was contacted by a certain Averyl Dietering to see about performing for BYU's celebration of the holiday on campus. She had heard the song that I blogged about back in April or May (Lilies), and wanted me to perform it. She actually left a comment about it under that post.

I ended up being the person in charge of Music and Entertainment for BYU's Peace Day. It turned out really well. I recruited my dad and brother to help me out. They are both incredible musicians and it went really well. I was kind of sad when it was over, except for the fact that I never want to work with BYUSA again. :) But that's a whole nutha thang.



I hadn't known then that the sound guy, who is a good family friend, had been recording the whole performance. He just brought over a CD of some of the songs he mixed, and I was so surprised at the quality of the recording. It's probably the first time I've enjoyed listening to myself. Here's the link to a sample of one of the songs:

Waiting in Vain- Guy and Em


Anyway, check it out and see what you think. I'm a fan. :) Also, a really good song about Peace is called Peace Tonight, by the Indigo Girls. So much good.