Why we write.

Several times a week I think to myself that I want to write something down. On a slip of paper, in a note to someone, on a chalkboard displayed in my house and often times on this blog.

I suppose for me it is the thought that I don't want to forget something, or I want to tell someone how I am thinking of them and a lot of the time I just want to say how I feel, to the world! Is that so wrong? In any case I am pretty sure I will not ever regret writing down a sweet memory of my children or recapping a special event in our lives. So with that being said, I need to jot down a few things.

Last Sunday Deacon was all set to give a talk in church, the topic was missionary work. He was so cute calling up his Grandpa Steve and asking him about his mission to Argentina and then talking with his Dad about his mission to Norway. He picked which stories he wanted to share and even decided what little story of his own he wanted to share. I am going to write his talk below best I can remember:

"My name is Deacon and today I am talking about being a missionary. My Grandpa Steve went on a mission to Argentina, he ate lots of spaghetti and I think he is lucky because spaghetti is my favorite food. (all the primary kids laughed) On his mission he baptized a woman who was very pregnant, she was afraid she was going to have a baby in the water! When she was done she was very happy she did not have the baby in the water. (all the kids laughed again)

My dad went on a mission to Norway, it is very dark and cold there here is a picture of my dad all bundled up to go out in the snow (holds up a pic) my dad says the best way to be a missionary is to keep the commandments and be a good example. I think it is funny that my dad had hair on his mission (holds up a picture of Curt with a full head of hair) because now he doesn't. (they all look at Curt and giggle)
( he came up with this next part all on his own)
I think a good way to be a missionary is to pray for others. My cousin Baileys dog Toby died. My mom and me said a prayer and it made me feel better, I hope it made Bailey feel better too.

I hope we can all pray for others and try to be good missionaries."

The sweetest part of the whole thing was that 5 minutes before primary started he burst into tears and told me he was nervous. He clung to me and cried. My heart broke, so often I look at him as my big boy, so grown up doing big things. Then I get a reminder that he is still just a small boy. I actually cant believe he is already giving talks in primary.

I was able to help him calm down and he gave his talk with a lump in his throat fighting back tears. I am not sure I have ever been as proud to be his mom as I was that day. It was just so genuine.

I love my sweet Deacon. I am sure I will be glad I wrote this down one day.