This is a post I put up on facebook:
So this month is all about thanksgiving and today I was smacked in the face with just how grateful I am for MY parents. Our relationship is imperfect at times, but I'm so blessed to have a mom and dad who read to me, sang with me, took me to the theatre, taught me good manners, gave me many opportunities for learning and growing (cooking class, summer camp, girls camp, music lessons, singing lessons, dance classes, karate class, freaking "hooked on phonics" and every type of flashcards on the earth, swimming lessons, etc...) but most of all, they gave me their time. Whenever I needed it. My mom has spent hundreds of hours reading stories with me, helping me late at night with homework and last minute sewing projects (she sews... I watch... Ha) and talking or just listening to/with me, and my dad is ready at any given moment to drop everything and help me with anything. Sometimes even when I don't want the help haha. They came to almost every performance, every recital, every award ceremony, every graduation... Besides my Heavenly Father and Savior, they are the absolute constants in my life. And not everyone can say that about their parents. So I think I can count myself as pretty dang lucky (even though luck has nothing to do with it).
Friday (11/21/14)
I got all dressed up to go out tonight, and it turned into a big ol' fail. I went down to where the "young" folks hang out, and it was just not my scene. I didn't even bother going into any of the places; dancers on poles, alcohol, young drunk idiots... not my thing. So I wandered around, and sat for awhile people-watching other people wandering around. When it got relatively late I headed back home, but I needed a break from walking in my heels and I was super thirsty so I started looking for a bar that was still open where I could grab a Fanta Limón. I couldn't really find anything and was going to just go home, when I decided to go into this one particular place - a guy dressed in African dress said he loved me as I was walking past. I just thought he worked there and was trying to get customers; I even kept walking. But he had just made me smile after my failed night out. So I went back, walked down to the bar and asked the bartender if they had the soft-drink I was looking for. They did, indeed. So I sat down and hung up my shoes. There were two bartenders. Both named José. It's like the beginnings of a popular sitcom haha. They were both super friendly (but not in a creepy way) and it was so fun to practice my Spanish. I also met Titch. I thought he was the owner (he's not; Martin, one of the José's brothers is) and he thought I was Spanish hahaha, and he introduced me to Pablo, who's real name is Paul, but when in Spain...
I already love this old English bar.
Sunday (11/23/14)
This Sunday was awesome. Brother Sena, probably one of the oldest and wisest members of the ward, invited me to come have dinner with him and the missionaries. He's Italian and he'd made homemade pizza and an awesome salad, along with a Spanish tortilla we all got a taste of. But that's not all. For dessert he broke out a panettone (not homemade, they are really complicated to make, so most people get them from a bakery) which is basically an Italian fruitcake - sweet bread with fruit mixed in. But unlike an American stereotyped fruitcake, it was SO good. It had all kinds of yumminess mixed in, like raisins and orange zest. AND THEN he gave us ice-cream bars. We definitely did NOT leave hungry. After we ate, he gave what I'm sure was an inspired lesson about the roles of the twelve-tribes of Israel, but I didn't understand any of it. My Spanish-language learning didn't ever really include religious words and topics, so I definitely have some catching up to do. When we were finished at Brother Sena's, I went with the Sister missionaries to an appointment they had scheduled with an African family. The husband seems fairly interested in the gospel, while the wife couldn't care less, but it might be because they are all learning Spanish so everyone's understanding is at a different level. They have two kids, a boy and a girl, and they are SO FREAKING CUTE! The little boy gave the closing prayer, and in it he said "Please let Rebecca come to our house whenever she can." OHMAHGOSH. Someone get a mop, cause I'm a melted puddle on the floor! And they both taught me their secret handshakes. Adorable.
xoxo,
Rebecca
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