Lesson from the Crayon Box

Recently, I had an experience that reminded me of a box of crayons. If you've ever seen the crayon making process on Mr. Rogers, you can well remember the different stages of dyes, cuts, and conveyer belts that take chunks of color and turn them into coloring utensils. Each crayon is different; even the crayons that are the same are different. You have your reds, yellows, and blues; then you have your red-oranges, your mustard yellows, and your turquoises.

Imagine what life would be like. Once every color is shaped and papered, one of every kind gets placed neatly in a single cardboard box where they all wait together until someone buys them, and they live together for as long as they are in use.

People, like crayons, are completely different. You have to deal with the yellows, the pinks, and, heaven forbid, the snot greens. Their personalities are completely different from yours, and yet, they were meant to be together.

What do I mean? Think of a blank coloring page filled with mountains, rainbows, streams, hillsides, and little cottages. Every crayon in the box can contribute to making that picture explode with color. Why? Every crayon was made to do something different, but every crayon is worth something. You couldn't have clouds without white, grass without green, or water without blue.

Crayons, like people, are all different and all worth the same thing working towards the same goal. You've got to be able to tolerate and love those around you. They are all children of God, too.

Maybe you know someone who makes you ask, "Why?" every day of your life. The simplest solution? Be their friend and love them. Find out what they like to do and what their life's like. Take the time to get to know someone. You may just find a person who compliments you completely, even if they don't seem to at first.

Challenge: Find something you like about someone you don't like so much. Focus on that and focus on what they do well. Compliment them. You may find a friend somewhere where you least expected one.

Winning the Race With Someone Else's Tire

As spring slowly starts to show its blushing face in beautiful Cache Valley, Utah, I am reminded about how hungry I am to bike. It's kind of a hobby of mine that hibernates until winter is over.

One year, my dad, my brother, my sister, and I all decided to participate in a local bike race. The route ran up a steep canyon for a way and then turned back for a rapid ride back down. We arrived, registered, and became way excited for it to start. Suddenly, as Dad pulled my bike from the rack on the car, I noticed that my front tire was very floppy. With mortification, I pulled out a thick thorn that had eventually destroyed the tire tube right from underneath our noses. I was devestated.

We discussed what we could do, but really, there weren't many viable options. We had no extra tires, no patches, no glue. But my dad, almost completely unconcerned, loosened the tire on his bike and screwed it onto mine. I protested at first, but he insisted that I ride with his tire. It was our race, he said, not his. 

It wasn't a fantastic tire, but it was a fantastic race. Even while wobbling up the mountain, I couldn't help but feel gratitude for what my father had sacrificed for me. It wasn't until after we enjoyed a juice box and a game of frisbee that I realized the lesson to be learned. 

Every single day, we damage our tire in some way. We are far from perfect, and it's hard to come home without scratches, mud, chunks of grass, or thick thorns protruding from the grooves in our tires. They keep us from doing our best, keep us from participating in the race. 

But in the race of life, we always have help. Our Savior sacrificed everything for us, gave us his tire so that we could all go on and win the race. Sometimes pride keeps us from accepting that help, but when we do, though the journey's rough at first, we find that the love of the Savior is worth it all. 

We all make mistakes. They're inevitable. We can try to patch them up by ourselves, hide them, or give up. But Christ will never give up on us. Glue and patches can peel off, but with an extra, firm tire, we have a second chance. 

Challenge: Think about the Atonement and what it means for you. Thank your Heavenly Father for His son's sacrifice and, in turn, sacrifice your time and ability to help someone in need. Loan a tire so that someone can also win that race. 

  

"To Be or Not to Be?"~ A Hamlet Perspective on Friendship

Last year in my AP English class we did a whole unit on Hamlet. For those of you who don't know the story of Prince Hamlet, it's about a young prince who finds out that his father was poisoned by his uncle. Throughout the whole play, Hamlet struggles with his inability to act to save more lives and to reveal who the villain is (everyone in the kingdom thinks that King Hamlet was bitten by a snake). All that he does is complain that he can't act.

While reading this, I thought to myself, "He's such a pansy! Why can't he just do something? He would save so many lives if he did." I wondered how anyone could be as ignorant and cowardly as Prince Hamlet.

Then I had to take a step backwards.

Just recently, I had a bad day with my best friend. In a fit of anger, I sent her an email telling her exactly what she was doing wrong and how I wasn't going to put up with it anymore. She eventually got back to me, telling me that she was questioning our friendship, that she was sick of my problems and my confidence issues, and that she didn't want to be around me anymore. It broke my heart.

What do these two seemingly entirely different situations have in common?

Rather than acting, I complained. First I felt heart broken, then I was sad, then angry, then I blamed her. It wasn't until I took time to create a list of all the things both of us had been doing wrong that I saw that I was to blame. Like Hamlet, I was beating myself up over not doing anything, over letting her slip out of my hands without even knowing it. Yet, I still did nothing.

I went to my Heavenly Father in tears, trying to sort out my emotions about myself and how I had managed to let this happen. My answer was unexpected.

The reason why things had been rough was because I was not trying hard enough. I was holding onto emotions and pain that had happened long ago, not only not forgiving her, but not forgiving myself. I had foolishly convinced myself that I was justified in holding a grudge, that I was justified in telling her everything she was doing wrong, when really, it was me doing things wrong.

In truth, we are both children of God and too precious to allow those kinds of emotions to run our lives. I've learned a valuable lesson on friendship:

a) When you're a friend, you serve
b) When you're a friend, you console
c) You love
d) You care
e) You have empathy
f) Most importantly, you ACT

This year's theme seems so appropriate. "Be Thou Strong and Courageous," it reads. That's something you and I both need to work on. Not only do we have to have the courage to stand up for ourselves, we have to have the courage to make relationships work, to make friendships last.

Like Hamlet, I've discovered that my inability to act is what keeps me from reaching my potential as a person. It's all in how you act and if you act.

Challenge: Think of a relationship you  have that is broken or needs help; think of something you need to fix in your life. Ask your Heavenly Father what you can do to fix it, and when you receive your answer, act. Don't say that you'll act. Act.

Picture from: http://www.englishunitplans.com/HamletSkullHCSealous.jpg

What's the Big Deal About Being a Big Deal?

Hi! My name is Arianna, I am 17, and I am a soon to be author (hopefully). I have a blog for personal stuff and decided to start a whole new one to write experiences in my life and how they are applicable to teens.

So what's up with the title? One day I got a Sobe (Liz Blizz, to be precise; my fave). They usually say something dorky and stupid on the cap, like, "Soooooooo." This time it said something I thought was really profound. It said, "You're kind of a big deal."

It was one of those reminders in life that made me feel happy about who I am. We're all "kind of a big deal"; that's why we were sent here to earth. Our Heavenly Father only wants the best for us because we are his children. If we could all think that, we would be so happy.

So. That's my first challenge, of sorts, to you. Go throughout the day telling yourself that "you're kind of a big deal". You are! So, think it, live it, breathe it.

You are kind of a big deal. You are a child of God.