MLK, morals, bugs and Evy (Forrest) or Evie (Elin)

I am taking a class this semester called "Contemporary Leadership Issues." I shouldn't say this, in case the professor somehow finds and reads our blog, but I am only in the class because it is super easy and I should be able to get an A in it. It has been interesting so far, though. We are reading different "cases" and then discussing them. I recently read "A Letter From Birmingham Jail," Martin Luther King Jr.'s letter to white clergy in Birmingham, Alabama. I had never read it before. I don't really know much about MLK, but this letter is really good. I mean, really good. A lot of true principles. Whether MLK was a moral man or not I cannot say, but I think his letter is inspired. Everybody should read it. If you can't find it let me know and I can send it to you, but it is probably easy to find online.

So last Thursday in that class we talked about the characteristics of a "transformational leader." I don't really want to go into details because that would be boring, but one of the characteristics that was debated was the morality of the leader, or whether the leader should be moral. The question "who decides what is moral?" was made. Is it God? The Bible? Society? The comment was made that morality is such a debatable thing. The professor then asked if there is a moral base that all should follow, but in the end it was determined that basically a leader should have the same morals of the followers he/she has. The professor asked if anyone wanted to agree with that. I raised my hand and said I felt like a leader should represent the morals of his followers or the morals that the followers want to live up to. I then said "But I also think there is a moral base that all people should follow, and whether they do or not is up to them." Silence. After a few seconds, the professor moved on. It was interesting. 

The picture below is what I found in my spaghetti the other night. The picture isn't clear because it was up close with my phone. I think I determined it is a bee. The size was right, it apparently had wings, and the body seemed segmented like a bee. Also, in the MTC on my mission one of the Elders in my district found a bee in his packet of jelly. It was kinda gross, but I still ate it anyway. The spaghetti, not the bee. All the other pictures are of Evelyn because she is beautiful and lets face it, now that we have a child, that is what people check the blog for. There is also a video of her watching a singing giraffe/horse. I understand that somebody else's baby is not always that interesting, but if you don't like this video then you hate babies.

 I gave her a bath the other night and took this picture, in her towel.

I accidentally took this 3 second video when I was trying to take a picture.

Anne, Atticus, Ramona, and Evelyn

Did you know that Anne Frank wrote: “It's difficult in times like these: ideals, dreams and cherished hopes rise within us, only to be crushed by grim reality. It's a wonder I haven't abandoned all my ideals, they seem so absurd and impractical. Yet I cling to them because I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart.” I just recently read that and wondered to myself whether she felt the same way after she went into the concentration camp. I hope so.

Ahhh, To Kill a Mockingbird. I must have read the book and seen the movie at least half a dozen times. It had been a while, though, so a few days ago, while I was holding my baby on the couch and drinking my juice box and eating my peanut butter crackers (these are luxuries you get to enjoy for days on end after labor), I decided to watch the movie again. The funny thing is, as I watched the movie this time, I expected the jury to find Tom Robinson "not guilty."

Granted, my sister Laurel will tell you that I have a funny memory when it comes to books that have been made into movies. My imagination gets away with me and I have been known to be positive that certain scenes in the book are in the movie when in all reality those scenes were not included in the movie. But this time, it was really disconcerting. I watched the court scene, heard all of the witnesses, listened enraptured to Atticus's closing statement--and when that jury came out, I was positive that they were going to find the defendant "not guilty." I was, in fact, shocked when they did not. Having read the book and seen the movie multiple times before, how on earth did I forget that rather significant fact that Tom Robinson is found guilty, he goes a bit crazy and tries to escape and ends up dead? I was mortified.

After thinking through it, I decided that this time, my belief in humanity--in the good and light that is in each and every human being--somehow shut out any prior knowledge of the book. I believed that those jury members were going to do what was right because it was very evident that Tom Robinson was not guilty and that Bob Ewell was. Everyone in the court room could see that, just by having Atticus Finch and all he represents as a father and community member standing within a few feet of Bob Ewell and all he represents as a father and community member. Anyone in their right mind would believe in the person that Atticus Finch was defending. What on earth was that jury thinking?

After thinking about it some more, I decided I was glad that I was surprised at the jury's verdict. I decided that naive though it may seem, I would much rather expect people to act according to that goodness and light inside of them than otherwise. And I'd like to believe that usually they do. Another scene in the movie (which I did remember accurately) reflects this.

So yes, I'm going to join Anne and continue on in my idealistic mindset and say that people are basically good. As hard as we try not to be sometimes, we are basically good. And I don't think it is wrong to expect it in people either. More often than not, they won't disappoint you. 

A couple of examples: While working at a restaurant one summer, an elderly couple ordered a cherry pie on an especially busy Friday night. As I was supposed to do, I went back to the kitchen, asked them to heat up a cherry pie, and then forgot all about it in the rush of everything else. When I passed the couple again, they asked about the pie and I apologized and hurried back to the kitchen. Another waitress had already taken my pie out to a different table. So I ordered a pie again and again forgot about it. This happened a couple of times before I finally got that pie out to the couple, 30 minutes later. By that time, they were understandably extremely agitated and all I could do was apologize, pay for the pie out of my own pocket, and apologize again. Naturally, tears welled up in my eyes while I apologized, and though the old man and woman wanted to be very angry at me and probably disparage me to my manager and leave the restaurant in a huff, they instead, saw my tears and visibly softened and felt bad for me, the harried, exhausted waitress rather than rightfully putting me in my place. I have never forgotten it. 

The second experience was in college. I was taking an 8 am class (never a good idea for me) and was often a few minutes late to it. It was an English class and it was pretty small, no more than 15 or 20 people in it, and I was thoroughly enjoying the material and I really liked the professor. I just had a hard time getting up and getting to class before the bell rang. Much to my surprise, one morning after class, my professor stopped me on my way out and said something to the effect of "I have noticed that you have been late the last few days." I probably noticeably cringed, expecting a lecture on how the professor's time was important or something to that effect (I have heard professors say it to a classroom of people before....) What he said next floored me. He said, "Is anything wrong? Is there anything I can do to help you get here on time?" I was shocked. He probably was well aware that I was just one of those lazy people who didn't get out of bed when the alarm went off, but instead of lecturing me, he showed concern and kindness. And you know what?  I was on time to that class the rest of the semester. Strange what a big of goodness and kindness can do for a person.

So I recently rewatched one of my favorite movies in the world, Ramona and Beezus. (And yes, I'm serious about it being one of my favorite movies in the world. And yes, it does have a 70% fresh rating on Rotten Tomatoes if that sort of thing matters to you.) And I cried at three different spots in the movie. I cried because they were moments where people were just being good and kind and it made me happy....and I cried because I am hormonal.  At the end of the movie, Aunt Bea leans out the window, takes Ramona's face in her hands and says, "Ramona, you are extraordinary" and she meant it. And I started crying, because if you've watched the whole movie like I had, you knew that it was just what Ramona needed to hear. It is just what we all need to hear now and then. And yes, I know that if we are all extraordinary then doesn't that mean that none of us are extraordinary. Maybe so. But instead of looking at it that way, let's look at it as none of us are always extraordinary, so let's admire it in people in the moments where they are. Let's make those moments count and it will carry us all through the non-extraordinary moments.

Now that I am done with my tangent, here are some pictures of Evelyn (or Evie), whichever you prefer.

Yes, she is adorable.

Evelyn Grace

We feel so lucky to have her. I don't know what else to say really. She is a great sleeper, eater, and pooper. Not so great burper. She is over 8 lbs now and getting longer, of course. And she is a strong little thing. She already has strong neck muscles and will grip your fingers with her little fists. 

But here is the good stuff: 

Bouncer Chair

On her way to her 2-week check-up.

You can kind of see how she fit inside of me...kind of...

I wonder if she wants to go back...

Lounging with her daddy.

Swaddled.

Swaddled and sleepy.

Swaddled and asleep.

The cat refuses to be replaced. She doesn't necessarily love Evelyn, but she hasn't tried to attack her yet either...

She always puts her little fist on her cheek. It is adorable.

I like this one.

Her favorite unswaddled sleeping position. Born to be a champion.

And here is a little video Forrest took in the hospital where you actually get to see her with her eyes open.

One last thing. My Grandma Grace passed away a few days after Evelyn Grace came to us. I was lucky enough to be able to go to the funeral which was a beautiful experience for me. I never knew my Grandma Farnsworth very well. My mom is the youngest in her family so by the time I was old enough to really know Grandma, she was already fading. But being at the funeral and hearing about her life made me realize how much of what is good and worthwhile in me, I owe to her and to my other 3 grandparents. She was a kind, loving, faithful, Christ-like wife and mother. She appreciated beautiful things and created them but she never sought the limelight or the attention of others. She painted, played the piano, sang, arranged flowers, cooked amazing food, and wrote. I never realized how much I wanted to be like her until now. On the funeral program, they printed the following poem which is the piece of her that I want to share with you:

A Prayer for Christmas Eve

It snowed tonight, and down our country lane

The stately pines are wearing crowns of snow

That glitter where the blue-white, icy flakes

Reflect the frosty moon.

Their overladen branches bending sketch

Self images upon the stark expanse

Of hanging farmhouse eves.

Below the ice-fringed ridges of the roof

A single window sheds a golden gleam

Across a stretch of newly fallen snow.

Framed there a Christmas tree

And night-clad children, waiting Santa Claus,

A fireplace wherein a crackling blaze

Defies the winter’s cold.

God, let it snow on battle fronts tonight,

Great swirling flakes of blinding, stinging sleet

That falling, drift and pile near barrack doors,

On landing fields and tank sheds too, on roads

And where machine guns nest, where ruin lurks

And war-wrought scars deface.

For while the snow falls fast and thick and deep

The Storm Troops mayhap rest and think of home

And loved ones there, and fun, and Christmas Eve

And in unguarded moments, He

Whose day the morrow brings.

God, let it snow on fear-sick cities too.

Soft floating flakes that fall so deeply heaped

The eagled steel must rest.

Disguise the wretched wrecks of gutted streets

Beneath a blanket soft and white and still,

No air raid signals need disturb at all

The stillness. Men there too

May dream of Christmas Eve.

So let it snow both here and there tonight

And grant this world on evening of respite.

It’s Christmas.

Grace Bateman, December 1941