When We Obey, We're Happy All Day

We have always been very fortunate to have faithful hometeachers visit our family. When our boys were little we had a particular companionship of hometeachers that the boys loved. They came diligently each month and were prepared with lessons that were specifically catered to our sons.

One month our hometeachers shared a lesson on obedience. They began the lesson with this little motto: "When we obey, we're happy all day". It left an impression on our family because not only did we add to it... "when we did not, we were sad we forgot"; but this motto has been repeated many times in our home through the years.

Whenever I hear a lesson or a talk on obedience, I can't help but remember a time that I wasn't obedient and was very sad that "I forgot".

As mentioned in a previous post, I had the opportunity to spend a great deal of my summer vacation between my junior and senior years in Great Britain. My trip was divided between my mother's sister in Northern Ireland, my dad's two brothers and my Grandma in England. My mother's uncle and aunt lived in London. Because I was flying in and out of London she arranged for me to stay with them for a few days upon my arrival and the last few days before I returned home.

Of course we didn't have "on-line" anything back then, so I had to make all of my travel arrangements from England to Ireland and then back to England, after I arrived in Britain. My mom took great care in "tutoring" me to ensure that I reached each destination safely and without incident. She provided me with a notebook where she had written all of my relatives names, addresses and phone numbers. I had been given instructions as to when I should arrive at each relatives house and how long I should stay there.

I was booked on a chartered flight which meant that all of the same people were on the flight to and from Britain. Consequently, I knew some of those people. My mom had arranged for me to sit with the George Allan family from Bountiful on the flight over. Upon our arrival in London, the Allan's would be traveling to Scotland, so my mom had asked Maureen Scott, an Irish friend, to accompany me from Gatwick Airport to Victoria Station in London where my mom's Uncle Harry would pick me up. Because I did not know Uncle Harry, nor he me, my mom had told him that I would be wearing a green ribbon pinned to my clothes so that he could identify who I was. With all of those plans and instructions given; off I went.

Now, my mom had given me a shiny piece of green ribbon attached to a safety pin and rehearsed to me that I must wear it. I nodded my head, signifying to my mom, that of course I would wear it... I had not the slightest intention of pinning that green ribbon to my shirt. What teenager would do anything so humiliating?  No, I had a better plan... I would wear a green shirt.

I traveled with the Allan's to England as planned, I then traveled to Victoria Station in London with Maureen Scott, we then parted and I stood against a wall and waited... and waited, for Uncle Harry. I was sixteen years old, and alone in LONDON!!!

I had departed from SLC at 10 pm the night before, and it was now quite late in London. I don't remember how long I waited, but I know it was a long time as I stood against the wall with a suitcase on either side of me. I was SCARED.TO.DEATH; so what do you think I did? I started to cry. I had never heard the term "the ugly cry" until recent years, but I am sure it originated from someone walking through Victoria Station on the night of June 4, 1975 who happened to see a young girl (in a lovely green shirt) sobbing uncontrollably.

Eventually, an older gentleman who appeared to be very concerned, approached me, and in a frustrated voice said, "Lesley????" I could only nod through my sobs. Although I heard several references to the green ribbon, it was happy ending, or... beginning to my trip.

I have never forgotten that experience. How much better things would have been for me had I just obeyed.

I have been to England twice since, and am now embarking on that journey again. For almost a year I have been planning and scheduling; and in recent months, arranging and reserving. A few days ago I was having some difficulty with making on-line reservations for my hotel in London and in purchasing some theatre tickets, so I went to my parents house to arrange for those details over the phone (they have a good phone plan for Britain calls).

I know that this is a wonderful opportunity for me and my daughter to go on this trip; but for me it hasn't been without some stress, anxiety, and yes I will admit... some fear. As I sat at my parents kitchen table and finished these final details over the phone (and I was writing down every detail), I felt such a relief that it was all taken care of, but then the anxieties overcame me and I got emotional. As my tears flowed my parents both assured me that everything would be fine. As I looked at all of the details that I had just written, I couldn't help but laugh through my tears as I said pointing to my notes, "I'm wearing my 'green ribbon' this time." And I am.