Never Grow Up

"Laughter is timeless, imagination has no age, dreams are forever." -Walt Disney

Graduation was nearly nearly a month ago, my days as a Holbrook High School-er have come and gone, and in about an hour I will drive out of the drive way of my life long home and start the next chapter in my life. In honor of this whole "moving on in my life" stage, I wanted to share my graduation speech that we were asked to write for Mrs. Caffey's class for the last week of school. So here it is. . .

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Never Land, second star to the right and straight on till morning. This is my favorite place. This is where I have lived the majority of my life for the past eighteen years. When I was three I would go to Never Land in my best dress up clothes to have tea parties with princes and princesses. I took my cousins a lot too. We would go on adventures and explore. Sometimes we would have to explore jumping from rock to rock because the ground beneath us was lava. Later I even took some of my friends with me. We would take our swing set horses there during recess and journey on for miles. 

Now, I'm sure your wondering, what is Never Land? You may be thinking that my Never Land is a lot different the the mermaid lagoon, and pirate's cove in Peter Pan's Never Land. I believe Never Land is different for all of us. As described in Steven Spielberg's movie, Hook, "Never Land is the place between sleep and awake, the place where you can still remember dreaming," Never Land is the child with in us.

I still love to go to Never Land. I go to Never Land almost every weekend with my little sister when we snuggle on the couch and giggle at our favorite Disney Channel shows. I went to Never Land about a month ago when i lied on a grassy hill holding hands with my two best friends, Cierra and Kylie, and laughed about absolutely nothing. I went again last week with my entire choir family when we decided, without speaking a word, to forget about our school work, our responsibilities, and even the show we were about to perform, to play in the Park Elementary School cafeteria. We played basket ball, jump roped, and hula hooped like five-year-old's without a care in the world. But as my days slip into years, i hear more and more about "growing up". It is not acceptable any more to just simply forget about school work and responsibilities. I have to worry about more than just the imaginary boiling hot lava beneath my feet. My worries are now about paying for college and deciding on an education that will ultimately decide my future. These big responsibilities make me question if I will ever be allowed to return to Never Land.

Growing up is expected. We are expected to graduate this Friday, expected to go on to college. Expected to start a career. Most of us are expected to eventually get married and star a family of our own. It is expected for us to take on all of these responsibilities. And it should be! Growing up is a part of life, and it does have value. I have learned so much throughout my years, and if I were to trade my age for youth, I would loose far too much valuable knowledge. But just because we have to grow up, does not mean Never Land has to cease to exist. In the wise words of Walt Disney, "Adults are just grown up kids anyway!" Never Land lives in all of our hearts. Yes, on Friday we will march to the field in our caps and gowns and we will graduate from high school. We will each be expected to take on huge responsibilities. But I hope that as you continue on your journey, you can sometimes forget about that deadline and remember to help someone in need. Forget about being on time and remember to fall in love. Forget about finances and remember to spend time with your family. Just every once in a while, forget about reality and fly to Never Land. Class of 2013, I invite you to "come with me, where dreams are born, and time is never planned, think of happy things and your heart will fly on wings, forever, in Never Never Land." 

Graduation 2013

Graduation party- my best friend Cierra (:

"party on the roof top, top of the world"
Last night in town <3

Thank You Anyway

“What is the most important lesson you have learned in high school?” As I sat to consider this question, my raging case of senioritis caused me to blurt out: High school sucks and I learned nothing…but not really. After reminiscing for less then thirty seconds, I realized that is the biggest lie I have ever told my self. Starting with first day freshman jitters, to crazy homecoming weeks, and late night final study sessions, all the way to senior prom, high school has been the most wonderful roller coaster ride on my journey thus far- and I have learned more then I know how to write on paper. To determine what the most important lesson I have learned in high school is really where my contemplation lies.

I have learned how to proof an equation in geometry and write the perfect persuasive essay. I have learned the best test taking strategies and can exceed on standardized tests. I have learned that staying up all night to meet due dates is not the best idea…annnnd that some lessons just don’t ever sink in ;). I have learned that the stage is my most favorite thing in the whole world and you should never give up on your dreams. To be you, to love, to hope, to believe, to do; I have learned a lot.

From book lessons to life lessons, they each hold value in my heart, they are all important. However, the “most” important lesson I have learned can be summed up in my favorite poem by Mother Teresa:

People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered.  Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives.  Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies.  Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you.  Be honest and sincere anyway.

What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight.  Create anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous.  Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, will often be forgotten.  Do good anyway.

Give the best you have, and it will never be enough.  Give your best anyway.

In the final analysis, it is between you and God.  It was never between you and them   anyway.

This poem brings me to tears every time I read it. Having a close friend who treated me like the “people” in Mother Teresa’s poem, is the most heart wrenching, spirit shattering thing I have ever had to over come. I would have never believed that one person could hurt another so easily until it happened to me. But I am glad it did. I learned to stand up for myself and my beliefs anyway. 

~Even though you tried hard to bring me down, you have made me stronger then ever before, and I am so grateful for you because of that. I forgive you, I am happy for you, and I love you. Thank you anyway. <3

Memories with my Bestest Friend Cierra!

This week has reminded me how extremely blessed I am. In English I was given the assignment to blog about the person I would remember most after graduating high school. After thinking for only about five minutes, I was at a complete loss about who I would write about! Through all the hardships and trials in my life, I have been truly blessed with a wonderful family, amazing friends, and incredible people who I have learned so much from.

           

Through all the beautiful people who have changed my life, there is one girl who has made it possible for me to survive those long high school days; she’s my best friend, Cierra Shumway.

           

In Jr. High I found myself in the same situation as most. I was on the path of discovering myself, I didn’t feel like I fit in with my friends, and I looked for any possible way out of the ruthless girl drama. At this point Cierra and I weren’t strangers, but we weren’t friends either. She was just the really pretty, sweet girl with the beautiful singing voice.

 One normal day at lunch, my eighth grade year, I walked down the isles in the cafeteria with my lunch and stopped in between two tables. One table was filled with my usual group of friends, and the other was where Cierra sat. I don’t really remember why, but I decided to sit with Cierra. It was kind of awkward. We didn’t talk much at all. She probably doesn’t even remember this moment, but it is one of my favorites. Sitting at that table was the best decision I ever made, because some where in between that awkward lunch and today, we became best friends.

           

Cierra and I had a few classes together, and though we didn’t talk a whole lot, we started hanging out more, and we always had a ton of fun together. She made the end of Jr. High much more bearable and I couldn’t believe how sad I was to leave her behind as I moved on to high school. I got through my freshman year fine, but the next year, when we were in high school together, we became inseparable.  We have had so many adventures together I don’t even know where to begin.

           

I guess it started in choir. We were so crazy most people were annoyed with us. Apparently we got a lot of complaints about our behavior. We didn’t care because we were our own party. Plus we knew they were really just jealous! (:

There are so many unforgettable memories. Like the time we jumped into her freezing cold pool in the middle of the night during homecoming. Or the time we made wishes on the roof with eleven candles at 11:11 on 11/11/11, and then ate four loafs of bread with out realizing it.

 Lunch dates at my house had to be the best. Even though we would get way too into out Spanish soap operas and have to call every person we knew to give us ride back to school because we missed our ride from my timely neighbor Tess. (We’re sorry Tess, and I’m still never on time.) ;)

Of course, there were the nights out with James and Drew. We should have known the trouble ahead of us when we became friends with them. Although, despite all the many visits by the cops and the one trip down to the police station, those nights of silly tricks and pranks were always my favorite.

Even the simple moments, like staying up all night watching high school musical and rewinding our favorite scenes of Zac Effron, and fawning over Harry Styles, Niall Horan, Louis Tomlinson, Liam Payne, and Zayn Malik, and making random music videos, are moments worth cherishing.

Sure, there have been a few disagreements here, and some stupid, interfering boys there, but we always manage to make up and have good talks, whether they are in person or through the head sets during play rehearsal. Through our so many differences and so many more similarities, she has been my partner in crime.

Now it’s time for me to graduate, and while it hurts my heart a little to leave her, I know what ever paths we choose to take, she’ll be my lasting memory and very best friend from high school. Thank you for everything Cierra, I love you mucho mi hija! ;)

Molotov Cocktails- It’s a Good Memory

 Okay, it’s time. Time to share one of my favorite memories. One that I have been waiting for the perfect occasion to share. And the occasion is …I don’t want to wait anymore because I miss my two best guy friends!

It was like any other normal night with James and Drew. Except this time, the reason for hanging out with them was because all my cute Hatch cousins were in town. I texted James letting him know that the four older girls, Mariah (Tanner), Jocee, Taylor, and Jasmine, were coming with us. Their crowd included: James, Drew, Cierra, Kevin, and their brand new foreign exchange student, Magnus.  I asked what we were planning on doing, and at the time, the word “Molotov Cocktails” meant nothing to me. Cierra and I never knew what those two crazy boys had in store for us, we just went with it . . . and always had a blast!  So after reassuring my parents, my grandparents, and allll of my aunts and uncles that we would be safe, and nothing bad would happen, the ten of us jam-packed into a single car.

Just past the tracks heading to Mclaws road, we piled out of the vehicle and watched the boys as they gathered up cases of empty glass soda bottles, old t-shirts, lots of gasoline, and a lighter. My city girl cousins began to grow a little weary, but it was fine because James and Drew always knew exactly what they were doing. . . Anyway, we gathered round as they filled the bottles with the gas and stuck the t-shirt in the top. We entered a round metal tunnel and stood back as the boys lit the t-shirt and smashed the bottle inside the tunnel. My cousins screamed as we enjoyed a beautiful explosion of bright fire engulf the area around us. We soon became addicted to the sight. We hiked all around the desert, climbing the rocks, making sure there was nothing that would burn. With each bottle we found a new spot to throw them into, making the fire explosions look like works of art! We got so caught up in all the fun that we forgot to acknowledge the feeling we all sort of had that maybe we should stop… haha, oops.  

The feeling grew stronger as we saw one, then two, then, ummm, ten cop cars all driving towards us with their lights on. We gathered at the top of the little plateau we were on, trying to convince one another that it wasn’t us they were coming for. It couldn’t be the huge explosions we were setting off, high enough for the whole city to see, because James and Drew always knew exactly what they were doing-remember? When the police cars stopped near our car, still out of sight to see us, we thought it would be like any other time we do crazy things, they’ll check the place out for a bit, realize nothing is seriously wrong, and be on their way. But to be safe, we sent James and Drew down to talk to them. At the very most, they would realize its just the same ol’ group of crazy Mormons, and send us home with calls to our parents, no big deal.

About ten minutes later I get a call from Drew. “Just bring everyone down here…now”. Cierra and Kevin and I gathered Magnus and my cousins and tried to explain that things like this happen a lot. “We know the cops in Holbrook and they like us and our parents because we never get in to any real trouble . . . everything is going to be fiiine!”

So long story short(er), people in town thought houses were burning down and stuff, and we committed two felonies and “several” misdemeanors, and after phone calls to all of our parents, we were headed down to the Holbrook Police Department. We arrived to find both Drew and Cierra’s parents and also my entire family. Awesome. It was quite the party.

I didn’t even know where the police department was until this particular night and the only thing stopping me from bursting into tears, was bursting into laughter. IT WAS HORRIBLE! The two police officers gathered all of us, and our parents into a tiny room to lecture us more and then to take “documentation photos”. Yes, I, Mariah Hatch, have a mug shot. And all the while, my cousins and I are laughing… OUT LOUD. So hard that we were crying, I don’t know why, but we could not stop. I was so scared. I felt like we were there an eternity! But luckily, because we NEVER get into trouble like that, they let us off with a warning and we got to go home.

James was about a month away from going on his mission and he was grounded until then. Magnus had been in America for a total of four days and was completely freaked out that he might be sent home. Drew and Cierra’s parents just never mentioned it at all.

Oh and how did my family react? My family was having a party. Yep. My cousins texted all there friends, my aunt Holly did a reenactment of how ridiculous our “laughing mug shots” looked, and everyone was practically peeing their pants from laughing. It’s like they were proud of us. We didn’t really complain.

It was definitely an adventure. It was a mixture of emotions: fun, scary, exciting, and kind of weird. Most of all it’s a great memory to look back on and I still giggle and reminisce about it often.

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-I usually have a picture with my post but I am sorry to say that we don't have any documentation (our selves) of this night. We really should :( sorry. But it is 100% true and if you really want to see some pictures just check down at the Holbrook PD ;)

A Ballerina Memory

Last week, the little town of Holbrook was lucky enough to have the amazing Brigham Young University Ballet Company perform in our auditorium. My mom, as a member of the Holbrook Regional Arts Alliance and a former dancer at BYU, had been prepping and preparing for months before the ballerinas arrived. She did everything in her power to make sure our (not so familiar with the arts) community supported them by coming to see the concert. She was crazy busy getting everything ready for them, and I was almost as overwhelmed as her just from helping. I was so caught up in handing out flyers and dressing like a princess and visiting elementary schools and speaking at assemblies and making ugly, pink, tissue paper balls that I forgot to get excited!

Before I knew it, it was the Saturday of the Ballet and I was getting dressed to go the workshop that the company offered by invitation to the choirs, and local Dance schools of Holbrook. I arrived to find a couple of my show choir buddies along with a room filled with frivolous little girls in pink tutus and red lip stick. I reconsidered in my head what the work shop would be like. Then the dancers arrived and they were perfect. The way they could move their bodies before they even started dancing, had me crawling with envy. I immediately felt like an awkward duck in pond full of beautiful swan. I felt I had lost the right to call my self a “dancer.” It made me feel nervous. I am an eighteen year old preparing to leave to BYU in just a few short months, with ambitions to go into something involving dance. Not particularly ballet, but it still made me anxious of knowing and understanding my own capabilities.

Still, the day crept forward, and it was already time to get ready for the princess party. This party was being held just before the performance and it was giving all the little kids attending a chance to meet the beautiful dancers. I was a helper at the party so I got to arrive early as well; dressed in my prom dress and posing as a pretty princess . . . It was for the children. (: Finally the noisy room of giddy girls started thinning out as they made their way in to the auditorium. NOW, I could hardly wait to watch. My sister and I sat side by side in our big poofy dresses and enjoyed every last second of the show. Watching things that I have so much passion for literally make me want to run on the stage and cry! I feel so much emotion attached to the stage and all of the beauties that go on it. But the night still wasn’t over!

 After transforming from a princess, back to my self, and cleaning up the mess of the princess party, we got to take some ballerinas home! Our church had the assignment of housing the dancers, so my family took three of the girls. I told them that I was going to BYU this summer and we had so much fun talking about all the joys of college life, and even more, the thrills of being at BYU. It was so much fun! One of the girls was in the same major program that I want to try out for, but wasn’t sure if I could make my first year. We talked a lot about it, and so much more! They got me so excited; I could hardly contain it by the end of the night! Even though I had felt a little out of place early that day, they left me feeling like I could do anything I wanted. They were just a few years older then me, but they started out the same as I did and have come to do amazing things.

I learned from this memory that you should never loose passion and drive for what you love most. I am inflexible and started dancing at a later age then most dancers, but I have come so far from when I started at fourteen. I love dance. I’m never going to let go of that. I’m going to ride it and see where it takes me, because I really can do anything I set my mind to. 

Work Shop:

       

Karson and I at the princess party!

A pretty ballerina (:

Memories of Grandma

This week is for Grandma Shirley. Recently, my Aunt Linda has been asking for memories of my grandma so she could put them together in a book for her. I thought I would contribute by adding of few of my memories with gram right here on my blog.

           

My sister and I are the youngest grandchildren on my mom’s side so we know grandma in her “older” years. My mom is always telling the most incredible stories of her, and telling us how much she wishes we knew her when she was growing up, with her as her mom. But to me, my grandma has always been one of the most incredible ladies and a huge inspiration to me.

I have lots of little memories that always make me smile when ever I think back to them. Memories that perhaps are only significant to me, but their memories that I think are worth writing down regardless. I remember being five or six when I would stand next to her on a chair in her cute kitchen in Highland, Utah, filled with fake food and modern art, rolling out the most delicious home made rolls. I always rolled mine in little tiny balls so I could feed them to my American girl dolls, who are always dressed in their best clothes sown by grandma. I remember when she would tuck me in bed after a tea party and tickle my arm while she told my stories of Squeaky the mouse. I remember it was during one of those famous tea parties that I was with my older cousin Kenzi, when a garden snake slithered through the sliding glass door that we had left open juuust a crack. What I really remember is that grandma HATES snakes. But before long we gathered together each and every neighborhood kid and soon enough the snake rode home with a brave little girl on her bike…and eventually grandma came back inside. I remember when I would sit down at her beautiful, black, baby grand piano in her St. George house and try my hardest to pound out the notes of Beauty and the Beast. After a few rough run-throughs she would sit down to help me, and then invite my grandpa and my parents to sit on the couch to hear me play and sing along to my newly perfected song. I remember long days and late nights as a little girl spent in grandma’s cozy Bear Lake cabin. Some of my fondest memories are at that beautiful lake. My eighty year old grandma would give me lift down to the lake on her 4-wheeler and as I plunged into the refreshing lake, she would strap a life jacked over her hot pink swim suit so she could “go for little run on the jet ski”. I could go on for hours about that Grandma Shirley and all the moments, big and small, that I have spent with her, but for now, I’ll end with my most favorite memory of my grandma. This is the memory that will remind me to shoot for the stars for the rest of my life.

It was about a year ago. Grandma started going a little more down hill. She was in her assisted living home and we were there for my Grandpa Milts funeral. Her memory had begun to fade and I found it much more difficult to carry on a conversation with her- until I started talking about the stage. Performing is what my grandma and I share. She was a star when she was younger and even when she was a mother. She had the voice of an angel and loved the arts whether she was watching them or participating in them. Just like me. I told her that I had an audition coming up at my school for my very first musical, the same musical that my aunt, who passed away from cancer before I was born, played a main role in when she was in college at BYU. “Grandma” I said, “my school is holding auditions for Bye, Bye Birdie, and I want the lead.” I know it seams silly, but I will never forget the glow in my grandma’s eyes when I told her. After that, we had a topic to talk about for days. She couldn’t stop reminiscing about my Aunt Judy and her own days on the stage. She kept asking me all about the part I wanted and telling me that I was the best little actress and deserved it more then anyone. I just smiled because I knew she was just being a grandma. Leaving grams that visit was really hard. She was alone now with out gramps and I didn’t know how many more visits with her I would get. I hugged her quick and turned around fast to keep from crying. She quickly grabbed my hand and pulled me real close to her as she whispered in my ear- “Go get that part.” A simple statement, maybe meaningless, but something about hearing those words from her hit me. She made me believe in my self because she believed in me. I didn’t want that lead part just for me anymore, I wanted it for her, because she knew how badly I wanted it, and had worked for it. Suddenly I felt like I could do anything I set my mind to because I have people who believe in my and want me to succeed. This might not make sense to any one else reading this, but really, I just wanted to let my grandma know that she helped me realize I can be a star. I know that I deserve the best. And even though my grandma has never been able to see me perform live, every song I sing, dance I dance, or play I perform on stage, I see her right there on the front row, and I will forever. Thank you Grandma Shirley, I love you. 

January 5, 2013.
Karson, Grandma Shirley, and me at our last visit at her assisted living home in St George .
She will be 91 in April! <3

Karson, My mom Loni, me, and  Grams.
We love you Grandma!

A Memory with my Girls

Saturday night I sat alone, by myself, with nothing do. I was desperate to get out of the house, so I opted for a stake dance at my church which stopped being cool, like . . . three years ago. I was skeptical in the first place because I knew my best friend was out of town for wrestling state, and I didn’t think I would find anyone to talk to. Luckily I was able to find my two main freshman girls who I love dearly! As I laughed like I was still fourteen with my cousin Bailey, I reminisced back to a found memory this past summer.

This last summer was a big one. It was the last summer before I head off to college, since I’m starting BYU this up coming summer. Summer 2012 had many “lasts”. My last summer life guarding, my last summer playing night time games around the block with the neighborhood kids, my last summer doing borderline stupid things that make really good stories, and my last girls camp. Girl’s camp is a four day “camping” trip (complete with cabins, indoor plumbing, fresh showers, and kitchen with cooks included) that the young women in our church stake took every year in June. Much like the dance I just attended, girls camp gets more fun each year until you hit age sixteen, then it starts to go slightly down hill. Nevertheless, I was going into my second year being on of the youth camp leaders, I was partnered with my old best friend from sixth grade, and I was determined to make the best of it.

Morgan and I were assigned to be leaders over the third year girls, which would be the freshman girls this year. I was anxious to be a role model for these girls. I wanted them to love me and everything I taught them. Morgan and I planned to the nines, preparing lessons, activities, and of course the cuuutest decorations for our . . . “cabin”. The girls arrived and I tried to be as bubbly as I could be; a couple of times in past years I would get stuck with the “too cool for you” leaders that really put a damper on my experience and I was resolute to make these girls have the best year at camp EVER!

Erika, Lavada, Samantha, Denyse, Nizhoni, Robyn, Gabbie, See Sea, Jadiana, and Bailey. At the beginning of the week some of these names were just names, some I had a few memories with, some I was positive hated me. But one incredible music video, a couple of inspiring lessons, a few songs, and lots of laughs later, we became sisters. Erika is “boisterous” and can put a smile on any ones face. Lavada will make you feel like you have known her forever with her cool, sweet personality. Samantha will melt you with her cute voice and friendly words. Denyse will make your heart happy when she laughs and makes the effort to be a friend to everyone around her. Nizhoni makes you forget all the bad in the world with her mischievous grin and twinkling eyes. Robyn and Gabbie were the best of friend cousins who, unfortunately, had to go home early, but they always had a sweet spirit and were easy to be around. See Sea never fails to make some one laugh out loud with her silly blonde moments, or make you feel good with her generous spirit. Jadiana is the most loveable girl out there; she includes everybody and was helping someone every time I turned around. Bailey has a contagious energy that makes you want to love life and be her best friend. These girls taught me so much more then I could have ever taught them, and they will have a special spot in my heart forever. <3 

My Girls(:

A Memory of Laughter

“If we couldn't laugh we would all go insane.” –Robert Frost.

This week was a long week. My mom was sick, I had a horrible, never ending headache, my motivation for school and everything else in life was lost, and the days just seemed to drag on and on. In the middle of it all, my parents, little sister Karson, brother Stratton and his wife Jessica, Jessica’s younger brother Robert, and our family friends, Margaret and Mike McClellan, all piled in to a couple of cars and drove to Flagstaff. We were NAU bound to go watch our favorite comedian, Brian Regan, perform live.

Even though this was my second time seeing Brian, and the first time I had front row seats and backstage passes, this time was just as exciting. My worries of the week were hidden in the giddy laughter my sister and I shared as we anticipated the funny jokes we would soon be encountering. Our anticipation grew as the lights in the auditorium dimmed and they welcomed the opening act comedian. He got the laughter going and the crowd loosened but I was still anxious to get to the main event.

Finally, the opening guy thanked us for coming and then asked us to put our hands together as he welcomed to the stage, Misterrrr Briannnnn Rrrreegaannn! If you don’t know who Brian Regan is, your life is as least ten percent sadder then mine is… because I know Brian Regan. I cried for and hour and a half straight because I was laughing so hard. My cheeks are sore just thinking about it. I’ll remind you again that I have already seen Mr. Regan, and even though this time I was fifth row from the back, it was even better then the first, because he is just THAT funny.

I really did not make this weeks post to be a brag blog. I know you probably don’t care a whole lot about what a great time I had. If I could I would share some of the jokes that brought me and everyone there so much joy, I would. But it is just not the same coming off a computer screen, or coming from me. (Sorry, I’m not that funny) The real reason I wanted to share this memory I made, is because I believe in laughter. When life is hard, or slow, or unfair- laugh. A midst what ever struggles you may be encountering at this point it your life, you should find times to laugh. Whether it is being lucky enough to have tickets to go see your favorite comedian, or being around, or spending time with a group of people you love and enjoy, I hope you can remember to find moments in you life where you can laugh.

Karson and I Anxiously waiting for the show, and making memories all the while! (:

  A Rainy Day Memory

"Anyone Who Thinks Sunshine is Pure Happiness, Has Never Danced in the Rain."

 On Saturday, I plop in a seat on the bus, tug on my drenched shoes, peal off my sopping wet socks and dry off my soaked feet thinking I have hypothermia. This weekend was the regional choir auditions and my choir and I spent it in the rain. Being a sunshine loving, Arizona girl, I was not so much in favor of the wet, winter air we had to trudge around in all day. But, wanting to make my blogs happy and positive memories, I reflected to warm summer evenings when rainy days were my absolute favorite thing.

There was one summer day in particular that still brings a smile to my face whenever I think back to it. My Aunt AnneMarie and her three girls were here in Holbrook for their annual summer visit from California. Any day with them is always a treat. To top it off, my good friend Chelsea Thomas had surprised me with a visit the night before, and was going to be staying the weekend at my house. Four of my favorite girls together, it's just one of those little moments reminding you that life is good. 

We had spent a long day of fun together and where chatting on the couch when we heard the first crash of thunder. The noise that sends chills of excitement all through my body. The chatting stopped and we all looked at each other with bright faces. The first rain fall of the summer monsoon season. We ran out side in our bare feet, giggling, as we witnessed the first rain drops sprinkle the side walk. Before we knew it, my big drive way beside the front yard of my house, had transformed in to a beautiful stage. The same side walk that just ten minuets previous had been harshly beat upon with sunshine, was now coated with a gleaming layer of twinkling water. It was just enough water to twirl around on pointed toes with ease. The "pit, pat" noise that our feet made as we pranced around leaping, and spinning, and splashing, was music to our ears. It’s like each drop of rain was a little splash of magic and I wanted to stay in that moment forever.

Like all rain storms in Holbrook, it stopped coming down after about ten minuets, but the moment continued. We stayed out side enjoying the clean earth, the fresh smell, and each other. Eventually we came inside to dry off and warm up and sooner or later the moment was over. Reading this “moment” back might seem so meaningless, but

Chelsea and I and my cousins talked about how fun this meaningless moment was for the rest of the night. I think filling our lives with “meaningless” moments is what gives our lives so much meaning. Allowing our selves these moments fill our hearts with happiness. Loved ones return home and move on, live goes on, and moments fade to memories. So I just say thank you. Thank you, God. Thank you for the memory.

Summer 2011
Jasmine, Jillianna, Mariah, Chelsea

Marina

My Memory with Mason

Mason Hawk was diagnosed with autism at the age of three.He didn't look people in the eye and he didn't talk except through sign language with his family. He now communicates very well, and loves school, basketball, and music. Just this year Mason started taking dance from my mom. For about a year now it has been my dream to one day teach dance to children with autism. Why? I can't even tell you, it just came to me one day. Anyway, you can imagine my excitement when I learned Mason was starting dance. I told my mom, and Mason's mom, Kreslie, that I would love to be Mason's helper in his class if he needed it. Kreslie was thankful and thought that was a great idea. However, the first day of dance class, Mason thrived. He caught on very quickly and obviously did not need any extra help. My mom and I decided he would probably do better with out me. 

A few months later Masons dance class was chosen by my mom to perform in a holiday showcase. As I watched him dance I couldn't help but feel a little sad he didn't need my help in class. I was amazed by his interaction in dance an I really wanted to be a part of it. I mentioned this to my mom and told her that maybe I could perform a dance with Mason sometime. "That would be really special" she said "but when would you perform that." I shrugged my shoulders and didn't give it another thought.

It was literally the next day when Kylie told me that as her platform for Ms. Navajo County Outstanding Teen she was going to be hosting a benefits concert variety show for autism. It was like a tender mercy from God, given to me though Kylie. I texted Kreslie that day and told her to ask Mason for me if he would dance with me to "Don't be Shy" by Cat Stevens. After listening to the song, Mason told his mom, "sure." 

After choreographing with Mason I was surprised when Kreslie told my mom that he doesn't touch people. I knew this was common for kids with autism but Mason and I grabbed hands as we lunged, touched palms as we châsed, and held hands as we dance walked. When Mason dances it is like he escapes in to a whole new world where he sees everything in a whole new light. When I dance with him, I see with that light too.

As the night of the show rolled around I couldn't believe how anxious I was. I was worried that Mason would be nervous. I just wanted him to have the same big smile in front of crowd as he did in rehearsal. Most of all, I wanted the audience to be able to see with that same beautiful light Mason and I could see with as we danced.

Mason and I were last, he doesn't usually like being last but I explained that they were saving the best for the end and he liked that. It was finally our turn. Before the curtain opened I reminded Mason to use the whole stage, smile big, and have fun. The music started and we escaped in to our special world. It wasn't until we hit our final pose and the music stopped that I was brought back into reality. As I looked out in to the big audience, I saw every single person, in almost perfect unison, rise up out of their seats. Tears ran down my cheeks and Mason with his hand held high and pointed toe turned his head to ask me, "Are all those people standing for me?" With a smile I softly replied, "Yes Mason, they are."