Hey look, my kids DO look a little like me!
28 years ago (and this is something I don't remember very well) at 7:47am, I was born. I think I came at 7:47am because labor was annoying me and I wanted to go back to sleep. I still don't like to be awake at 7:47am. I'm not the important part of that day though. Obviously, dad helped facilitate the event, but this one day was all mom's. I'm thankful that my righteous mother chose to create a family. I'm thankful that she was willing and eager to lend me her body as a vessel in which to grow, so that I could come fulfill the choice I made in the pre-mortal world and participate in mortality. Thanks for my first and greatest birthday present, mama: thank you for building my body.
The next birthday (I remember this one a little better) of note was my 5th. There were five girls (and 20 boys) in my kindergarten class: me, Larissa, Keela, Katie and Stephanie. Yep, I remember their last names too. Because of our vast numbers, I got to invite 100% of the girls in my class to Chuck E Cheese, to celebrate my birthday with me. Stephanie forgot the time, or the day, or the place; or her mom couldn't find it, or something... and didn't get there until almost the end. I was so sad. It threatened to throw a melodramatically dark cloud over a happy day. When she finally arrived, with a very small gift in hand, my dad diffused the situation by telling us all that she was late because she had to buy my elephant. We were greatly amused that he was so convinced that there was an elephant in that tiny box (if I remember correctly, it was stick-on earrings). I'm sure he'd done it before, but this is the first of many, many times I remember my dad using the ridiculous (and often elephants) to flip a frown. Sometimes I still pretend that I'm getting an elephant for my birthday.
Next. Today is the 20th anniversary of my baptism into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. (We don't perform infant baptisms- members are baptised no earlier than their 8th birthdays.) I was lucky enough to have my birthday fall on a Sunday, it being recent direction that baptisms should take place on that day of the week, unless out-of-town family prompted the choice of another day. My second-grade teacher, Mrs. Worner, came to my baptism. I loved that teacher. She taught me to be kind. It's a quality I still require of myself and cherish in others. My mom sang me my song. I know it made an impression, because I can still hear her saying the exact words she said as she explained its composition. I don't have many pristine memories like that. My righteous father brought me down into the waters of baptism and later confirmed me a member of the Church, and gave me the Gift of the Holy Ghost. Thank you, dad, for my next greatest birthday present, and your example throughout my life of how to use it properly.
We can skip 15 years to my 23rd birthday now: I remember this one about as well as I remember the first one. My 23rd birthday was Damien's official due date, but he was 10 days old that day. I have no idea what I did that day. I don't know if Kyle even called me... though I'm sure he did. I was on lots of pain meds and little sleep. What I do know is that sometime around that birthday, a kind neighbour taught me about charity. We moved to Colorado Springs when I was 3. The neighbours who shared (still share, I just don't live there anymore) the back fence were members of our ward. My dad and the patriarch of that family worked together in several bishopbrics, I grew up with their kids, we had family dinners together fairly often, we took them cookies on Sundays much too often, we carpooled to school and seminary and church activities together... good neighbours and great friends. I didn't see any of them for a couple of years before Damien was born, except at my wedding reception, but one day, somewhere around my birthday, my mom came down to my room, visibly emotional, and asked me to come upstairs. I wondered what in the world was the matter, but I made myself presentable and brought the baby up. Brother Jensen met Damien and we chatted for a little while, and finally he said "I heard you're moving to California. I thought you might need a piano." It felt out of the blue. It WAS out of the blue. It was a thought that he had at random and acted upon that blessed my life for years after. My kind neighbour brought me a piano. And he taught me a message that was spoken in conference but didn't take hold until I witnessed it in this great and humble gift: "Never suppress a generous thought."
These are just a few of the reasons that I make my birthday a giving day. Because I have been given much, and all that jazz. :)
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