Paper post from Cambry October 7, 2015

Mom decided this week to go back through her journal and look at her and Dad’s story. She was impressed to do so by the Spirit because she feels like it’s important to have their story written down. I came home from school during the week to Mom sitting on the couch with her journal open. She was saying that rereading hers was a little embarrassing, and that made me curious for what my reaction to my past journals would be.

The one I ended up reading was from my freshman year at BYU. I found an entry from January 14, 2013 that I want to remind you of:

“Riley is such an incredible example to me! He goes to the temple every week (at 4:30 in the morning!) without fail. He can be pretty hard to wake up sometimes, but he always wakes up for the temple.

“He told me a story the other day. He was in P.E. and they were bowling. It was their last time they were going to be at the bowling alley, so Riley decided to treat himself to ice cream.

“There was a girl in his class sitting at the counter. She started raving about the apple beer there and how she loved it so much. She’s handicapped and didn’t really have the social grace that told her when to stop something like that. She finally got to the point and asked my brother if he would buy her an apple beer. Slightly irritated, my brother said, ‘No,’ and walked off.

“He was sitting at a table with his friends when he looked back to that counter where the girl was still sitting, hoping someone would love her enough to buy her an apple beer. Riley then decided that—you know what?—he wouldn’t miss the two dollars it would take to make this girl happy.

“He walked back up to the counter and asked the cashier how much the apple beer was. The man responded with the sizes and prices, and Riley asked the girl which size she wanted. She told him she’d been hoping for a medium.

“Riley ordered her a medium apple beer and the girl’s face lit up. When he went to pay the cashier, the man looked at him and said, ‘You know what? Don’t worry about it. I got it.’

“People are so good! I am so proud of my little brother and honestly wonder (and hope) that I would do the same had I been put in his position. I am so grateful that I get to learn from Riley.”

I had forgotten that story, but reading it again made me cry. I hope you remember that story and that you still live your life that way. Throughout my life I’m learning that being generous is always worth it. I’m grateful again that I keep a journal because it means I can find nuggets like this story that bless me and teach me years later. I love you, bud. Thank you for your goodness.

Love,
Cambry

Snow, Cambry's perspective

While I was feeling less than enthusiatic about the snow storm, Cambry was poetic, her assigned sonnet taking form from the weather. See why we're supposed to become as a little child? I was just worried about getting places in the muck. Cambry was watching a performance.

Impromptu Ballet

First one, then two, then three, they're all around!

Their tiny, little delicate skirts swirl,

the graceful dancers twirl, and leap, and bound,

as if the wind's the thing that makes them whirl.

The dancers all take part, this strange ballet,

A silent dance, and 'tis all improvised.

And so the gathered audience will stay.

There on the ground, they meet their quick demise.

The dainty dancers seem to float, suspend

The sun shines down, and makes it glisten so,

but that same sun shall bring about their end,

all on the ground, the quickly melting snow.

The children bring their hats and sleds and things,

and while they play, their glorious laughter rings.

Cambry does it again!

Me and My Name

My name is not Camry, or Cammie, or Camille, or Carmen. My name is original. It is a rare and precious gem. It is a one-of-a-kind name. My name is the warmth of a mother’s love. It is what I have become and what I can and will become. My name is Cambry.

My mom decided she loved the name Cammie while she was still babysitting. But, that name sounded too young and immature. It sounded like it would become a chain as the years progressed. It sounded like ribbons, bows, fantasies, princesses, unicorns, frilly dresses, and pink. Cammie was not the name for her daughter. Her daughter needed a name that would mature and grow along with her. My mom decided to make up a name. My name. She came up with Cambry.

To me, my name means just that: me; it fits perfectly, like it was tailored to fit me just right. My name describes my ups and downs. It means maturity (most of the time), life, humor (but that kind of depends on who’s listening or reading), and friendship. To my mom, my name means the oldest child, the trailblazer. To my friends, my name means a good listener, loyal, ready to help, smart, funny, and enjoyable to be around. To my teachers, my name means a good student, someone they can count on. To my country, my name represents a single person who in four years will help our country decide on a new leader. To the world, my name is one grain of sand on a vast beach, a single star in a sky full of millions; small, but without me, the picture would be incomplete.

My name has no meaning. Yet. My name will mean love, hope, individuality, and greatness. My name will mean many things when I pass it on. The definition may not be recognized worldwide, but the people who knew me will know and appreciate it. When I’m through with my name, I will be one of the privileged few to have owned it.

August 20 Cambry's Poem, "I Am"

Cambry had an assignment in her honors English class the first day or two to write a poem about herself using metaphors. When she read it to me I cried. I've never written anything so beautiful in my life, let alone when I was 14 years old. Enjoy:

I Am

I am
a bird with new wings
ready
to lift away from my nest
to spread my wings
ready
to soar

I am
an explorer
ready
to sail into new territory
ready
to find within myself
that secret part that has yet to be
discovered

I am
a seedling
ready
to blossom into a gorgeous flower
ready
to show the world
how beautiful
I am
inside

I am
a candle
ready
to be lit
to help everyone see the world around them
ready
to burst into flame
knowing
that the light I lend
will help everyone


I am
an Idea
ready
to be spoken about
to be pondered on
ready
to flow from the mind
to the pen
to the paper
to become something
amazing

I
am ready


Isn't that amazing?! You may have guessed, she may be ready, but I don't think I am!