March 2013 - An Act of Service

I was sick in March with a horrible cold. It was really difficult to do what I needed to do in the show and otherwise. I was overwhelmed also because I had just sent in my mission papers....an apparently stressful endeavor for me :) Well, Amy Jo Henderson (Ben Henderson's wife - he plays my husband in the show) sent  me a get well card. Included in the card was a handkerchief that she had sewn for me. She made it so it would look and go with the period of the piece. To  me it looked hand sewn. I couldn't believe it...she had taken the time to make something like that for me because she heard I was sick. I was beyond grateful, and I have taken it with me on stage on a number of occasions. She will never know what that gesture meant to me...small and simple things!

The Civil War- February 2013

"For the Honor of your Name"

In February we opened The Civil War at the Hale Center Theater. I can't begin to tell you how much this show has meant to me. I feel proud of the project as a whole and also the part that I have had the opportunity to play. The role of Sarah is actually based on a real letter written to a woman named Sarah. I think it's only fitting to share it here- 

 July 14, 1861

Camp Clark, Washington

My very dear Sarah, 

The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days -- perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write you again, I feel impelled to write lines that may fall under your eye
when I shall be no more. 

Our movement may be one of a few days duration and full of pleasure -- and it may be one of severe conflict and death to me. Not my will, but thine 0 God, be done. If it is necessary that I
should fall on the battlefield for my country, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in, the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how
strongly American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution.
And I am willing -- perfectly willing -- to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this Government, and to pay that debt. 

But, my dear wife, when I know that with my own joys I lay down nearly all of yours, and replace them in this life with cares and sorrows -- when, after having eaten for long years the bitter
fruit of orphanage myself, I must offer it as their only sustenance to my dear little children -- is it weak or dishonorable, while the banner of my purpose floats calmly and proudly in the breeze,
that my unbounded love for you, my darling wife and children, should struggle in fierce, though useless, contest with my love of country? 

I cannot describe to you my feelings on this calm summer night, when two thousand men are sleeping around me, many of them enjoying the last, perhaps, before that of death -- and I,
suspicious that Death is creeping behind me with his fatal dart, am communing with God, my country, and thee. 

I have sought most closely and diligently, and often in my breast, for a wrong motive in thus hazarding the happiness of those I loved and I could not find one. A pure love of my country and of
the principles have often advocated before the people and "the name of honor that I love more than I fear death" have called upon me, and I have obeyed. 

Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and
bears me irresistibly on with all these chains to the battlefield. 

The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give
them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when God willing, we might still have lived and loved together and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us. I have, I
know, but few and small claims upon Divine Providence, but something whispers to me -- perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little Edgar -- that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If
I do not return, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, and when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield, it will whisper your name. 

Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have oftentimes been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your
happiness, and struggle with all the misfortune of this world, to shield you and my children from harm. But I cannot. I must watch you from the spirit land and hover near you, while you buffet
the storms with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience till we meet to part no more. 

But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the garish day and in the darkest night -- amidst your happiest
scenes and gloomiest hours -- always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or if the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by. 

Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again. 

As for my little boys, they will grow as I have done, and never know a father's love and care. Little Willie is too young to remember me long, and my blue-eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him
among the dimmest memories of his childhood. Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care and your development of their characters. 

Tell my two mothers his and hers I call God's blessing upon them. O Sarah, I wait for you there! Come to me, and lead thither my children. 

Sullivan 

Sullivan Ballou, age 32, was killed on the battlefield in the 1st Battle of Bull Run seven days after writing this letter.

To pen such words is beyond my comprehension...for he paid the ultimate price.  These were the last words to his wife. To give up all his joys for the love of his country! I can't comprehend the love of a spouse because I have not yet experienced it...however I feel as if I have caught a glimpse of that  through acting in  this show, through the love of my family, and other relationships that have taught me how to love deeply.  I hope that someday I can have that type of courage and deep conviction. I am grateful for those that have gone before and that have provided me with a unified country. The  freedoms that I enjoy strengthen me. What an awesome capstone of my theater experience before I leave on my mission. 

Stacia

December Post- A Night to Remember ~Better Late Than Never!

I didn't actually watch a movie that moved me...but I went to a performance that I will never forget. It was December and I was invited to go to The Mormon Tabernacle Christmas Performance (December 2012). They often bring in guest artists or special speakers. I couldn't have been more pleased with what I encountered in this performance. Alfie Boe who was in Les Miserables and a journalist names Tom Brokaw were involved. I was moved by this performance. Alfie Boe is this amazing tenor...I mean kind of unreal!!! I seriously can't fathom that talent. I jumped to my feet after one of his songs. Not only that, they also portrayed the story of a candy bomber during World War Two. It's a beautiful story of a man that participated in dropping candy from the sky for  children. And then they brought the candy bomber on stage...he was around 90 years old. It was beautiful that this man was still remembered for his act of service and kindness! I wept in this show and if you ever see it on TV. Watch it!!!

Love you all!

Mini

Even though I have not participated in this blog thus far, I thoroughly enjoy all the things you have shared.  You are all so articulate and intelligent and express your thoughts extremely well.   But since I had something that demonstrated acts of service on the part of several people I thought I would share.

My experiences with dogs have never been that wonderful.  I have been bitten by a dog.  I have been chased by a dog in Richfield when I was little, which caused me to get separated from my cousin and lost. And the two dogs we had when I was young, Sparky and Chief, were not very well trained and would jump up on us.  However, I did try to connect with Sparky and there might even be a picture somewhere of me with that dog.  Chief was more Carl's dog.

Although I have never been much of a pet or a dog person I did have a recent experience I would like to share. Pam Smith was going out of town to Michigan and then Texas to visit her daughters Kendra and Summer, respectively.  Her little black dog Mini had recently been having seizures which they attributed to possibly epilepsy.  They were able to treat her with medication and valium to calm her down, especially while Pam would be out of town.  Sharlee Doxey volunteered to take care of Mini while the Smiths were out of town.  I volunteered to walk her a few times a week and she hired Beth Ericson to take her on some afternoon walks.  Meg Donaldson offered to walk with me.

Everything was going pretty well. After a few days, Mini had adjusted to Sharlee's house.  Meg and I were enjoying our walks with Mini (even while it snowed on us).  On one walk Meg and I discussed the movie Marley and Me (recommended to be watched with clear play)  and the book it was based on, which Lee and Meg Donaldson had read. I mentioned how the movie gave me a greater appreciation for how much people can come to love their pets and more empathy for their feelings when they lose them.  I believe the book was based on newspaper columns written about a family's adventures with their dog.

One Wednesday Meg couldn't come.  It was a beautiful day and I took Mini on a glorious walk by myself.  She trotted happily along occasionally stopping to sniff and enjoy. As far as I know this was the last walk Mini went on.   Thursday night Mini started to have seizures.  She had seizures for several hours with Sharlee looking after her all night.  In the morning Michael Smith took her to the vet where they had to put her down.  They determined she most likely had a brain tumor instead of Epilepsy.  They buried her in Pam's father's backyard.  Ron and Pam arrived home a few days later.

Mini was a very beloved dog by many of the neighborhood who had interacted with her on several of Pam's many walks over the years.  She was  also loved by Pam's piano students, by those who walked with Pam, and of course the Smith family. Of all the dogs I have come into contact with she was my favorite. It was comforting to Pam to know that she was well cared for the last two weeks of her life especially by  Sharlee and by others who loved her.  We will all miss Mini!

MOM