Light the World Daily Stories

I decided to "Light the World" every day this holiday season by recognizing daily the light that others have brought into my life and sharing these uplifting moments on social media. These were the 24 stories I shared...

Dec. 1: To start with, I want to pay tribute to Talona Jones. She was the classiest lady I've ever met. I've been so fortunate to get to know her the past 2 decades and am beyond blessed to have become forever friends with her daughter Hailey Linger. Yesterday, my friend Hailey buried her beloved mother, after a long and courageous battle with breast cancer. Talona was truly a beautiful soul, both inside and out.  I have many fun memories with her, but the memory I want to share is my first one of her, which greatly impacted me. When Josh and I first moved to Salmon 22 years ago, she was working as an assistant at a local dental office. I didn't even know her then. A few months after we moved here, I needed a root canal done. I had a lot of anxiety about the procedure, and she could tell, as tears were streaming down my face as the doctor inserted needles into my mouth to numb the area. He said the numbing would take a while to go into effect and then he walked away, and I remember immediately tensing up, feeling so nervous about what was to come, and fearing being alone with my feelings while I waited for the procedure. She leaned over me, grabbed my hand, and assured me with her tender voice, "Don't worry, I won't leave you, I'll be right here". And even though I didn't know her, I could feel that she meant what she said. Her calming nature and her gentle hand, enveloped in mine, really soothed me. It made a difference.  

Talona is my inspiration for the December Daily posts to #LightTheWorld. In her honor, I want to spread good cheer to others by sharing memories of when others brought love and kindness to me.

Dec. 2: There are moments when having an out-of-town job makes me feel very vulnerable. One such moment happened this week. Leadore has bitter winters, due to its high elevation and location. Thursday was so cold with the wind chill that the students had indoor recess all afternoon. I worked a little later than I normally do on a Thursday afternoon, and when I left school, most of the employees were already gone. When I got to my car in the parking lot, I noticed it had a flat tire. I immediately texted Josh, so he'd know that I would be home later than normal (Leadore is a 45-minute drive from Salmon), and I got to work in the bitter wind trying to change it. I'd never changed a tire on this car before, but I knew where everything was located. It took me a few minutes to figure out what was what and I started jacking it up. My right arm has been consistently losing strength since summer due to a medical problem, and it was taking everything I had to jack it up. I instantly started worrying about how I would have the strength to get the lug nuts off. I knew I wouldn't be able to do it on my own, and I began crying because I realized what a vulnerable situation I was in and panic began to settle in my chest. Just then, my Superintendent Kevin Ramsey showed up. I don't even know how he saw me or knew I was in need. He took the lug nuts off, and when I gave him the spare to replace the flat, he realized it was also flat and took it to the school shop to put air in it. By the time he'd returned, I'd calmed down enough to help him finish the job together. I'm grateful he took the time to come and help me; it really eased my anxious heart.

Dec. 3: One particular memory pops into my mind every so often that I want to share with you. This story is about homemade lasagna. When I was pregnant with the twins over 18 years ago, it was a very stressful time in my life. I was working full-time at the credit union in Salmon at that time, and because of my high-risk pregnancy, I was traveling to Idaho Falls twice a week during the last month of the pregnancy for prenatal care (which was 2.5 hours away). There was so much kindness shown to me by so many during this particular period of my life that it would be impossible for me to recount it all. So instead, I will focus on the homemade lasagna. My birthday was in August and my friend Marie Hansen offered to celebrate with me during my lunch break at work. She said she wanted to spend more quality time with me that day, so instead of taking me out to a restaurant, she would bring lunch from her home to share with me. I was SO excited at this prospect: I hadn't eaten a good homemade meal in quite some time--I was pregnant (so my cravings were weird), I was working full-time (so I never felt like making a decent dinner when I got home), and it was in the thick of summer (I never feel like cooking in the summer). I was grateful to have a friend who would bring a pregnant lady a home-cooked meal. We met at the park, and she proceeded to pull out of her magic bag (just like Mary Poppins would) some warm homemade lasagna. She had dishes, silverware, drinks, and a salad to go with it, too, but all I could think about was that homemade lasagna. I know the effort it takes to make lasagna: I'd witnessed my mother make it for some of my siblings for their birthdays growing up (because it was such a coveted dish), and I myself only make it once or twice a year now because of the process it takes to create it. So the fact that it was homemade lasagna that she shared with me made the experience extra special. To her, it was a simple dish (in fact, she probably doesn't even remember this lunch). But to me, it was so special, and I've never forgotten it. Thank you, Marie, for making me feel lasagna-worthy special during a super stressful time of my life.

Angie, Me, & Marie, June 2020

Dec. 4: Last year on Father's Day, I was traveling alone to Salmon from a visit to Utah. It was the longest day of the year, and as I made a curve in the road past Leadore, the sun shone right into my eyes. I instinctively pulled down the sun visor, which gave my eyes some respite from the bright rays. With my returned vision, I spotted a darting deer one second before it ran into the front of my car. The collision instantly shut my car down, and I pulled over to a little pull-out on the side of the road, but my car was still partway sticking out in the road. I got out and assessed the damage, called a tow truck, called Josh, and picked up all my car's debris that was scattered across the road. Then I sat and waited. And waited (I was about 40 minutes from home when it happened). While I waited, a semi came around that same curve behind me, just as a car was heading the opposite direction, and because my car was slightly in his lane, he nearly hit me. Then panic set in because I realized what a precarious spot I was in: the sun would be shining in other driver's eyes right at that bend in the road, then my car was sticking out right after the curve, and another accident could occur involving my car, and there was nothing I could do about it. Right after that, my neighbor Justin Williams drove by in his Fish and Game work truck. He recognized my vehicle, and he thought I'd pulled over to talk on my cell phone, but he thought it was a strange place to do so. After he passed me, he saw all the damage to the front of my vehicle, and then he turned around and came back and parked behind me with his flashers on to alert approaching traffic of the situation. I was panic-stricken and bawling by this point. He told me to stay in my car, and he stayed in his truck, and he waited until the tow truck arrived. I was extremely grateful; it really eased my fears to have him there. Seeing his flashers in my rearview mirror and knowing he was there with me was all I needed to calm myself down. And the fact that he gave up some of his Father's Day evening to sit on the side of the road in order to protect me meant even more. Thanks, Justin, for stopping and staying!

Dec. 5: Kanyon and I lived in Mud Lake for 4 years (2017 to 2021). The first year was challenging for both of us: we didn't know very many people and we were adjusting to our new surroundings. And because we came back home to Salmon on the weekends, we didn't go to church there, so we weren't invited to many church events, which made the process of establishing relationships with people outside of school more difficult. Once he and I made friends, it got better for us after that, and we enjoyed being a part of the great Mud Lake community, but living away from my husband, our family, and our home proved to be very lonely for me. I craved adult interactions after school, and used Netflix and working late at night to fill the void of not having those interactions. Because I was so lonely, the opportunities I was given to spend time with others meant so much to me. During our last year in Mud Lake, Kanyon and I both received an invitation to go to the home of Tiara Fullmer Skidmore for dinner and game night with her family. We were both so excited at the prospect: I was delighted to have adult conversation during a meal I didn't have to prepare, and Kanyon was happy to be able to play games with someone other than his mom! When we entered their humble home, I was immediately aware of the effort she had gone through to invite us over. Her home was spotless, which was an incredible feat with 3 youngsters at home all day. She had set up the dining area in her living room to accommodate both me and Kanyon and another teacher from school that had been invited, in addition to their family of 7. Her kitchen counter looked like a beautiful buffet at a fancy catered event, there were 2 soups, salad, homemade breadsticks, drinks, and cute labels in front of everything detailing what they were. Everything looked so lovely, and I felt spoiled. The food tasted even better than it looked, if you can believe it! And then she brought out dessert, too! After that, she introduced us to the card game Sky-Jo, and Kanyon and I had so much fun, even though her oldest son (who I taught for 2.5 years) beat us both! There was one point during the game when her husband had to leave, and she had 3 kids on her lap (2 of which were crying), and she effortlessly handled it and kept playing and never made us feel like we were an imposition. The feeling in the home that night was so special. I truly felt like a red carpet had been laid out for us, and I was in awe at the ability Tiara had to create such a spectacular evening for just us. Kanyon and I both left feeling inspired: not long after that, we purchased the card game and have introduced it to so many of our family and friends. And every time I teach someone to play Sky-Jo, I think of that special night when we learned to play it, and the incredible woman who transformed her humble home into a welcoming reprieve from the loneliness that was my constant companion.

Dec. 6: Since my career in education started 12 years ago, I've set up a classroom 4 times, beginning with my music room at the annex building in Salmon. I learned that setting up an elementary classroom can be a major undertaking! When I started teaching 2nd grade at Terreton, it took me 2 solid weeks to set up my new classroom before school started: I wanted everything to be just right and I had so much to figure out and put into place. I switched grade levels AND classrooms 3 years later, and this time around, I didn't have 2 weeks to devote to the task. My friend Jennifer Judy volunteered to come and help me. She sorted books, organized art supplies, set up my seating area, and helped me decorate bulletin boards. I'd never had help before setting up a classroom, and I loved having her company AND getting my to-do list accomplished twice as fast! She understood my vision for the space and used her gifts to make it even better than I'd anticipated. I cherished her company and was grateful for her devotion. The following year, I moved classrooms once again, this time to Leadore. I dedicated a week to setting up the classroom, and once again, Jen offered to help me. She drove with me one day and helped me set up the posters and decorations on my walls. The room has vaulted ceilings and really tall walls, so I was extremely grateful for her help, as the job required being up and down ladders all day, which we both did. She was a good sport about it, though, and I appreciated her positive energy. She sacrificed her personal time and time with her family to be with me. When I look at the walls in my classroom, I am reminded of her and the day we spent together transforming the space. Thank you, Jen, for using your talents to help me create this space that sparks joy in me every day I'm in it.

Dec. 7: When I'm in a depressed mood, I instantly crave the coconut curry chicken rice bowl from Junkyard Bistro, a local eatery. On one such day this spring, I headed straight to the Bistro after work. Josh joined me, and we ordered our meal from a lovely young waitress who I adore. After a few minutes, Frances Mueller walked in the front door, right by where we were seated. She joined us and I instantly perked up--it's hard not to when she's around. She somehow carries sunshine with her and shoots its rays around her wherever she goes! Frances exudes kindness in a vibrant and colorful way, and her positive vibes are a magnet that naturally draws others to her, too. My day suddenly improved exponentially, due to the enlightened conversation with Frances, while also simultaneously consuming my soul-picker-upper meal! She didn't eat her meal with us; she'd ordered her meal to-go so she could take it to her kids after their various after-school activities, but she was polite to hang out with us while we ate ours in front of her. When her food was ready, she took the two bags of to-go meals and left. Josh and I finished our meal shortly after, and we asked for the check. Our waitress informed us that Frances had picked up our tab when she'd paid for her meal. I was blown away; I had no idea she'd done that. It was such an incredibly kind gesture: to pay for our meal on top of the cost of her family's, and to do so without our knowledge. It was so inspiring to me. I want to be the kind of person who shows up, spreads sunshine, and pays for other's meals, too. Thank you, Frances, for the light you've brought into my life.

Dec. 8: 9 years ago, Kanyon (our youngest son) was in 1st grade and I was teaching music at Pioneer Elementary in Salmon. On one particularly cold day in January, his class had a Chinese New Year parade through the school halls. It was at the end of the day, and I was able to watch it because my classes were done for the day. However, I had a meeting with some teachers after school, so I'd told my boys that morning that they needed to ride the bus home after school, instead of me giving them a ride, due to the meeting. After the parade ended, his teacher let some of the students go early if their parents had come, assuming they would be taking their child home. Because she'd seen me, she let Kanyon go. However, I had no knowledge of this because after the parade ended, I went to go speak to another teacher about a student's behavior in my music class that day. After being excused, Kanyon went straight outside to the bus lane (because he remembered my instructions from that morning), but since it was early, the busses hadn't arrived yet. In his young 6-year-old mind, he thought they'd already left for the day. So, he went to my music room next, but it was locked because I was finished in there for the day; my meeting was in a different room. He saw my car, and knew I was somewhere, but didn't know where to go next. He started jogging home, thinking he would beat me there. Our home is nearly 7 miles from town, and 5 miles of it is along a busy highway. After school got out, I went to the room where the meeting would be, and was told it would be another 15 minutes before the meeting started. I had some things I needed to take home, so while I waited, I went to the parking lot to put the items in my car. When I got to my car, Jared-Teva Bragg approached me. Teva said she'd picked up my son on the highway, a few blocks from school. At that time it was -2* (it had been even colder that morning!). She saw him running along right next to the highway. He was past Napa Auto Parts, and she noticed he wasn't wearing a hat or gloves, and his coat was unzipped. He was holding his folder in his bare hands as he ran (since his end-of-day routine was messed up, he'd forgotten his backpack at school). She recognized him, and knew something wasn't right. She pulled over, turned around, and picked him up to bring him to me at school. I was in complete shock as she spoke to me. I wouldn't have even known he was missing until an hour later when the bus would've dropped him off; his brothers knew he didn't get on the bus with them but they didn't know what to do so they were going to call me when they got home if I wasn't already there. As the information sank in about Teva's discovery, my mind began overflowing with all the "what ifs" that could've happened to my little boy that afternoon, had it not been for her, and the thoughts scared me intensely. She is truly a Good Samaritan, and I can never repay her for the good deed she did for me and my son that day. Teva, thank you for being in the right place at the right time and for doing the right thing. Your mindfulness saved his life. I'm forever grateful to you!

Dec. 9: Ever since I moved back to Salmon in spring of 2021, I try to get together with my Mud Lake friends once a month, usually on a Thursday night. I look forward to this monthly event; I leave right after school, spend the evening with them, and drive the 2 hours back home. This was just how the night went on our October get-together. Usually, I get gas in the morning before I head to work, and especially on days like this with increased travel, to ensure that I have enough fuel to get to work in Leadore as well as the round trip to/from Mud Lake. However, on that particular Thursday, I was running late. I used my car's fuel usage button, and it estimated that I would have enough gas for all the above, plus 40 miles worth of travel remaining, so I didn't stop for gas. I had fun with my friends that night, and before I left Mud Lake to head home, I pushed the fuel usage button again. This time it estimated that I had enough gas to make it back to Salmon with just 10 extra miles, so I once again felt fine about not gassing up. (It's a game that I often play while driving: "how far can I possibly go on this gas tank?" Josh doesn't think it's nearly as thrilling as I do.) About 3 miles from Salmon, I ran out of fuel, and my car lost all its power right in front of the home of my friend Darcy Jackson. I coasted for about three fourths of a mile before I turned into a mailbox pullout along the highway. I thought for a moment about my options. Darcy seemed like the natural choice to call because she was a lot closer in proximity to me than Josh was (I was still 10 miles from home). I figured if she had just part of a gallon that she could bring me, it would be enough for me to make it to Salmon and fill up at a station. It was 11:00 on a weekday night, but I didn't even hesitate about dialing her number. Darcy is the type of friend you can call, no matter what, and she'll be there for you. She's one of the most dependable, giving, loving, trusting, generous people I've ever met. She answered the phone, even though my call had woken her up. She said she would be there in a minute. She got dressed, and went out to find a gas can, but couldn't locate any that had gas in them, so she brought me an empty one. When she arrived, she was as cheerful as could be, and appeared so happy to see me, even though it was late, dark, cold, and I'd just woken her up! I felt bad about putting her in this situation, but she made it seem like it was no bother at all. She picked me up in her car, drove me to town to put a couple of gallons of fuel in the can, and drove me back to my car. We put the gas into my car, and luckily it started with no problems. I said goodbye and thanked her for being my late-night knight in a white shining car! I drove my car straight to the gas station and filled it up before going home (like I should've done that morning before starting the day!). Thank you, Darcy, for always being there for me when I need you the most, and for being so supportive of me in every way! You carry the light of Christ with you, and as a result, you naturally radiate love to everyone you serve.

Dec. 10: When I first moved to Mud Lake, Josh and I took one trailer full of furniture from Salmon and unloaded it into my apartment. Two years later, when I moved from that apartment to a rental home a couple miles down the road, it took 3 trailer loads back and forth to move all my stuff! Clearly I accrued more items during that time! This time, though, the boys helped us move the furniture because it was Thanksgiving weekend and we were all traveling back to Salmon from Utah together; we stopped in Mud Lake on the way back home to make the move happen. We didn't announce that we were moving, because we didn't want people to feel obligated to come and help us over a holiday weekend, but I did mention it to my friend circle so they would know where to find me. My friend Ken Tanis Cherry surprised us on moving day: she showed up in her truck just as we'd returned from emptying the 2nd load at the rental house. I couldn't believe she'd sacrifice time at home with her family on the day after Thanksgiving to come and help me. And she also brought her husband and their young son, too! They started loading things into their truck, as we loaded up our suburban and trailer; it would've taken us 4 loads without them! They followed us in their loaded truck on our 3rd trip to the rental home and helped us unload everything. In addition to the help with moving, she'd also prepared dinner for us, and she placed it in the new home to have at our convenience. Tanis is always so thoughtful like that: over my 4 years at West J, she constantly dropped off gifts and food to me, and I was constantly in awe at her thoughtfulness. This gorgeous friend of mine is just as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside! Tanis, thank you for your neverending support and for pouring a constant stream of kindness onto me! You make the world a brighter place!

Me, Tanis, & Val, June 2018

Dec. 11: I have a friend who's secretly wanted a homemade chocolate cake for her birthday her entire life, but never got it. I wanted to make this dream a reality for her. I didn't think it would be hard; I envisioned it as an easy process and the results would be sublime. I was wrong--about it being easy. At the time this happened, I was living in Mud Lake and coming home to Salmon on the weekends. This friend lives in Mud Lake, but I only took minimal ingredients and pans to my rental there, so I knew I'd have to bake the cake in Salmon. I didn't start the process until Sunday afternoon, which was a mistake, because after I read the recipe, I realized I didn't have all the ingredients. You see, there's only one grocery store in Salmon, and it's closed on Sundays. I couldn't understand all the instructions on the recipe either, since I'd NEVER in my life made a cake from scratch before. You know the Schitt's Creek episode where David and his mom were trying to make a recipe, and it said "fold in" the cheese, but neither knew what that meant and they both started panicking? Well, at this point, I also started panicking because everything seemed against me: this was the only day I could do it, but I couldn't figure out all the instructions, and I didn't even have all the ingredients. I started bawling and I knew I needed help. I turned to my friend Gina Hobbs because she's the best baker I know. She's a master at anything food-related, and is so giving with her delectable dishes, too. I've been blessed to be a recipient of her edible offerings for years (in fact, she's made me strawberry rhubarb pies for my birthday because she knows that's what I want most, even though she doesn't bake them at any other time), so she was naturally the first person I thought of for help. I reached out to her, in a nonchalant text (trying to hide my true feelings), to see if she by chance had the ingredients I needed and if I could go to her house and pick them up. She replied that she wasn't home at the moment, but she did have the items, and could help me later that night. I didn't really have all night, but I didn't tell her that. I decided to just throw in the towel; I would just purchase cupcakes later for my friend instead. So I responded back that I changed my mind about needing the ingredients and thanked her for replying. And then I started having a full-blown panic attack because I knew that because of my own choices, I wouldn't be able to give my friend what she really wanted. Unbeknownst to me, Gina had been in my neighborhood at the time, and she miraculously showed up at my house not too long after that, witnessing my tantrum-like state of being. Gina calmly listened to the whole story about what I was trying to do and why I was so upset. She convinced me that I shouldn't give up on my plan and that I needed to go to her house right then which had all the ingredients and equipment (I don't own a KitchenAid) so we could get started on the cake. I packed up the ingredients I had, and Josh dragged me to her house, although at that point I was so hysterical that I didn't want to go anywhere. I was mad at Josh and Gina at the time for making me go, but by the end of the night, I was extremely grateful for their persistence and patience in making sure that I got it done. It was so generous of Gina to sacrifice her Sabbath evening to help a friend, and to share of her supplies and ovens, too. I definitely couldn't have done it without Gina's help: it was a lot harder than I thought it would be! I gave the homemade chocolate cake with chocolate frosting to my friend a few days later on her birthday and she was delighted! Thank you, Gina, for not letting me give up on myself, for pushing me to complete this cake, and for your service in helping me create it! You inspire me.

Dec. 12: Over a decade ago, I was in a church musical production in Salmon called "The Ten Virgins". I was one of the 10 Virgins, with a song solo and speaking parts to memorize. At that time, it was the biggest part I'd had since my senior year of high school, when I played a Doo-Wop girl in Little Shop of Horrors. One of my greatest passions in life is performing, and I was so excited at the prospect of being on stage again! I rarely talk about this, but when I'm performing, I deeply yearn to have someone in the audience who's there solely to support me. The desire stems from my childhood, and I've discovered that although my passion for performing runs deep, it's much more meaningful when I can share it with someone who I love. This religious production was for a women's conference, so that excluded Josh from attending. I pondered who to invite to be "my person" in the audience that would make my performance more meaningful, and I realized that person was my friend Denise Bender. I met Denise when my twins were toddlers, and I was introduced to the MOPS group (Mothers Of Preschoolers). She was the mentor of the group, held twice monthly at the Episcopal church. Denise was an incredible mentor; she took on both a motherly role and a friend role in my life. My own mom lived 4+ hours away, and there were days that I felt like I was drowning in motherhood and was losing my identity. Denise showed kindness and acceptance to us young moms, and brought love, laughter, and crafty creations to our get-togethers. If I couldn't have my mom or my husband at my performance, Denise was who I wanted. I invited her, hoping that she would come, but not wanting to her to feel pressured into it, I invited her in a casual way. The morning of the production came. I had butterflies in my stomach; I hadn't performed in so long and I felt unsure of my abilities. When the curtain opened, I scanned the audience looking for her. I found her. She came! My heart instantly felt overjoyed that she'd showed up. Just for me. Seeing her was just the boost I needed. Denise, I don't know if I ever expressed to you just how much it meant to me that you were there in that moment. You were always there for me during that difficult time period of my life. When I first met you, I was drowning, but under your gentle guidance, I was able to swim back to the surface and re-claim my identity as a woman, and become a better mother in the process. Thank you for making a difference in my life.

Dec. 13: Over the July 4th weekend of 2013, I experienced some major cramps and pain in my abdomen that kept me up all night. Josh took me to the E.R. the next morning when he woke up and realized the severity of my symptoms. My appendix was removed a few hours later. After the surgery, we learned from the doctor that he had discovered a mess inside me: I'd had an ovarian cyst that burst, which got infected, and had spread to the appendix. As a result, my hospital stay was extended. I spent a lot of time alone in that hospital room sleeping. Josh stopped by a few times when he could, between working and taking care of the house & kids. My friends Amanda and Krissy LaMont dropped by, too. Krissy came twice, and both times she was my advocate, which I desperately needed. My nurse the first day was doing some unorthodox things: looking through my purse, going through my pants pockets, asking me strange questions, and rearranging things so I couldn't reach them (like the nurse call button). I didn't have the physical or mental strength to protest. When Krissy arrived, I told her about everything that was going on. She immediately took charge of the situation and spoke to the nurse and had her change some things in my room. I immediately felt relieved: I really appreciated having someone who listened to me and spoke up on my behalf! On the 2nd day when Krissy came, I told her about some hardships I'd endured in the night as a result of the nurse's choices again, and she went right down to the nurse's station and had words with the supervisor. I was beyond grateful for her help--I never asked her to speak up for me, but she willingly did it. Krissy has a gift to see what needs to be done and the initiative to do it. When Josh brought me home from the hospital, she was one of the first visitors to our house. She brought flowers and food and sat and talked with me. I was a mess, from the continued pain and the lack of sleep at the hospital, but it didn't phase her, because she's cool like that. Krissy, thank you. Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for helping me through a tough situation. Thank you for speaking up on my behalf and making me feel validated during a time when I lacked the strength to advocate for myself. (This pic is from Halloween 2013, a few months after the surgery, when we both unknowingly dressed up as the color pink!).

Dec. 14: Ten years ago, I had my first major surgery since giving birth. I didn't know it at the time, but it was the first big surgery of 3 that year. I don't do well with blood, and I don't react well to anesthesia. As the surgery date approached, I was extremely nervous about going under the knife. My left knee was making life difficult, so I knew that fixing it was a necessity, despite my fears and worries about the possibilities of what could go wrong. My friend Heather Crandall sent me a care package in the mail, and it arrived right before my surgery. I was so surprised to find a package addressed to me! I'd never received a care package from a friend before, and I was quite blown away by her thoughtfulness and generosity. And her timing was perfect, too! Heather lives several hours away from me, and just knowing that someone was thinking of me when I was feeling so much stress brought me comfort! And the items in the package were so carefully and lovingly selected for a person who would be recovering post-op: magazines to read, journals to write in, coloring supplies, lotion, nail polish, and some yummy treats. Heather's packages haven't stopped since then: she's sent me new books for my classroom, gifts for my birthday, CD's to listen to on my long car rides, handmade cards for Mother's Day, and Christmas cards. And I'm always just as happily surprised when a box appears at my door as that first care package that I received from her. Thank you, Heather, for your neverending kindness, for your thoughtfulness, and for your knack of perfect gift-giving. You've brightened my days so many times over the past decade, despite the miles that separate us! You amaze me with how much and how often you give to others, and I'm truly blessed to have you in my life!

Dec. 15: Five years ago, I was living in an apartment in Mud Lake and commuting to Salmon on the weekends, so Josh traded in one of our vehicles for a little commuter, gas-efficient, used compact car. It was the fall of Ammon's senior year, and his district XC race was at a rural location in Ririe. I left school early that day to go see his race. I noticed when I was leaving school that one of the tires on the compact car was low, but I didn't think it was too bad, so I drove it there anyway. Josh was at the race; he'd driven Salmon's team bus. I pointed out the tire to him, but since he'd driven the bus, he couldn't help me fix the tire after the races were over. He told me to put air in it at a gas station in Rexburg before driving it back to Mud Lake. I had never put air in a tire before, and I was unsure of when to stop; at that time I didn't have a tire pressure gauge, and I feared putting too much in that it would pop. I basically drove it with a flat tire all the way back to Rexburg. Along the drive, people kept passing me and pointing out my flat tire to me, which just made me more and more nervous about how bad it was. In addition, it kept smelling like oil and I didn't know what was going to end my drive first: a burnt-up engine or a completely deflated tire. I hate car problems: I'm so inept at solving them! I was completely frazzled by the time I pulled into the gas station in Rexburg. I walked inside to see if they had a tire pressure gauge I could borrow, but unfortunately they didn't. As I walked back outside to my car, I ran into Josh's cousin Michael Forsgren who was currently living near Rexburg. I immediately told him what was going on. He came to my rescue: he had a tire pressure gauge in his vehicle! He used it on my car, and informed me that I'd been driving on ZERO air pressure, and that I was so lucky I hadn't ruined the tire! Then he put the right amount of air in my tire, and checked my oil, too. He said it was just a minor oil leak that was causing the smell; it would be smart to check the oil often and add oil as necessary, but it was alright at the moment. I let him know I was grateful for his help, and he told me that this particular place wasn't his usual gas station; he rarely stopped there. Mikey, thank you for being in the right place at the right time to come to my aid! It was a moment that I felt keenly aware that God was mindful of me, because of YOU! Thank you for being an instrument in His hands.

Dec. 16: My Grandma Perkins died in October of 2009. At that time, her and Grandpa lived in Spokane, Washington, but their burial plots were in Farmington, Utah, near where both her and grandpa grew up. A funeral was scheduled at her church in Spokane and a graveside service was planned for Utah. The family get-together would be at the Utah location, since that's where the bulk of the extended family live. However, since I was geographically the closest relative to their home, I thought I should also go to the funeral in Spokane and be there with my dad and grandpa. It would be a fast trip, just over 24 hours total. Josh and I decided it would be too long of a back-to-back drive for the boys, so he stayed home with them. I worried about driving alone for the long distance in such a short time: it's a 5-hour drive one-way from Salmon, and the road goes over multiple mountain passes, with no cell phone or radio reception in several places. I was afraid of falling asleep, so I asked my friend Kimi Preh to join me. Kimi was such a blessing to our family: she was both a reliable babysitter for our kids and my dear friend. Actually, she was more than just my friend; she always felt like a younger sister to me. At the time of my grandmother's death, she was a senior in high school. She had to take a day off of school to join me, because my grandma's funeral was mid-morning on a Monday. In retrospect, I can't imagine why a senior in high school would take a day off school and have to make up work to spend 2 days of driving to go to a funeral of someone she'd never met before. But she did. And she was nothing but pleasant about it. We drove to Spokane on Sunday, and I left her at the hotel for a couple hours to work on homework while I went to visit my grandpa. On Monday morning, she came with me to the funeral and videoed the program so my family members who weren't able to come could hear my dad speak and listen to the song I sang. After the luncheon Monday afternoon, we drove back to Salmon and got home right before midnight. Kimi was a godsend to have on the trip with me. She was a good sport, and we talked and laughed, and she kept me awake. We made time to have fun on the trip, too, which I really appreciate, because every time I reflect on the reason for that trip now, instead of feeling sadness, I remember the joy I felt that weekend because Kimi was there with me. Thank you, Kimi, for taking the time to come with me. You have always been so supportive of me and my family. You were an integral part of our lives as we raised our sons; and we will forever love you for it.

Dec. 17: I graduated from WGU in spring of 2017. The graduation ceremony was held a few months later in July. After being a full-time student for 3 years, in addition to working full-time and raising 4 boys, I knew I wanted to walk at the ceremony. I wanted the full experience with the cap and gown and procession. And I wanted people there to support me. Sadly, Ammon had to work and the twins were at scout camp and Kanyon wasn't interested in going if he was the only kid on the long drive. So my next idea was to ask a few friends to drive down with Josh and I to SLC for the event, but none of the ladies I asked could go. My dad was gone to Virginia at a scouting event and couldn't make it either. I was really striking out! Thankfully, both my mom and Josh's mom came. On the day of graduation, we walked into the venue and passed booths selling leis made with beautiful fresh flowers. And suddenly I really wanted one, but they were $40 and I knew I couldn't afford it at the time, and I knew it would just wilt anyway. So I just pretended that I didn't want one and I kept on walking. Josh and our moms found their seats in the event center, and I went into a room where the graduates had their pictures taken, and were given cards with numbers on them that correlated to our placement in the line. As the graduates lined up in a large hall before the graduation began, my sister Tabbi Perkins showed up. I was so happily surprised to have someone else come to support me! She found me and hugged me and guess what she brought me?! Handmade leis made with money and candies, wrapped in cellophane! I was beyond overjoyed that she knew what I wanted even before I was aware that I wanted it (she'd ordered the necklaces prior to the event). Tabbi and I both have our grandmother's feisty Rigby blood flowing through us. We are both stubborn, passionate, loud people, which can sometimes result in both of our stubborn, passionately loud selves working against the other. However, we both understand the value of family and the power of friends, and we always work it out. I was so grateful that she knew how important this graduation was to me and that she came to support me. She inspired me that day, and now I, too, make homemade leis with money and chocolate to pay it forward for graduates who I love. Tabbi, thank you for taking the time to come to my graduation, and for being so intuitive about who and what I needed that day. I love you.

Dec. 18: For our 10th anniversary back in 2008, Josh and I went on a 10-day trip to England & Scotland. It was our first international vacation together, my first time on an airplane, and my first trip out of the country. It was a pretty big deal for us at the time, and it's still the longest couple's trip we've ever had! We flew into London, stayed there for a few days, then headed north. Josh served as a missionary in the England Leeds mission, so we wanted to visit places that he served, in addition to our sightseeing plans. We made sure that on the Sunday we were touring the country, we would be visiting Grimsby, because that was his favorite ward. We went to church there that morning. Although he hadn't been there for 12 years, people still remembered him. He was hoping to see the Whall family; he'd gotten to know their family really well during the 6 months he served there. And we luckily got to see a lot of them that day! In fact, Samantha Whall Johnson and her husband Karl Trevor Johnson invited us over after church to eat with them. We were so grateful for the invitation, but I'm sure it put some strain on them: they had no idea we were even in England, and hadn't planned on seeing us, and they had already invited another family to join them, so they had to rearrange their home a little bit to accommodate us. Sam made us a delicious meal of roast beef, potatoes, homemade gravy, steamed veggies, and "pudding" (chocolate cake with custard topping). It was the only home-cooked meal we ate the entire time we were on vacation, and it all tasted SO good! We met their toddler daughter and infant son, and we had a nice chat as we looked through scrapbooks, learning about what all her siblings were doing since Josh left. I felt like I was in the company of old friends, not people I had just met. The feeling in that home was welcoming, happy, and loving. We stayed for several hours and left that evening. It was truly a special experience to be in their home, and it was one of our favorite memories of the entire trip. I was so glad for the chance to have a real-life, unplanned, genuine experience as a guest in their home, and it was heart-warming for Josh to reacquaint his friendship with Sam and the Whall family. In fact, many years later, Sam's youngest sister Eve came to Idaho to go to school at BYU-I and we got to spend time with Eve and the Whalls again! Thank you, Sam and Karl, for inviting us over after church that day to spend time with your family and friends, and for making us feel so welcome and comfortable. That time in your home left a lasting impression on us. We are truly blessed to know you!

Dec. 19: There are certain things I have a hard time spending money on for myself: like shoes, bras, and swimsuits. For many, many years, haircuts were also included in that category. I used to wait and wait for as long as I could stand it before I'd call and schedule an appointment, going 3-4 months in between cuts. My hair is much different now than it used to be: thinner, straighter, and shorter. I can barely go 3-6 weeks now without needing a trim! However, back in 2010, this wasn't the case. I'd let my hair grow out because I didn't want to spend the money to get a haircut. One morning in June, I felt desperate: I had an important job interview the next day and I wanted to look and feel good about myself. I realized a haircut would help me feel more confident. I called the salon, and asked if Amanda (my hairdresser since the previous fall) had any appointments at all in the next 24 hours. Of course, she was booked for the next week. So...I took matters into my own hands. I got out some scissors and started cutting. I couldn't see in the back, so I just felt it with my fingers and cut it blindly. About 15 minutes later, Amanda called me back to say she had a cancelation and an opening for that afternoon. I told her I no longer needed it because I was cutting my own hair. She told me to put the scissors down, and not to touch it anymore. I didn't listen. I kept cutting away at the front of my hair, trying to even up each side to the other. My hair turned out much shorter than I intended! However, I did go into the salon for that appointment, and she touched up the cut a little bit--I had already trimmed so much that there wasn't much left she could do but shape it. She said, "You did a pretty good job, but DON'T EVER DO IT AGAIN!" I did feel better about it after she worked her magic; it was just what I needed going into that interview for an elementary music teacher in Salmon. I was so grateful she squeezed me in that day. I've never forgotten about this particular haircut experience because of the significance of WHY I needed it. My appointments with Amanda became much more frequent after that, as I realized getting haircuts were well worth the money because they boosted my self-esteem. Over time, she was also able to convince me to add color to my hair; I'd wanted to for years but wasn't brave enough to go through with it until then. Now I LOVE getting my hair dyed! Our relationship began with her caressing my scalp and styling my aging locks, and it's turned into a forever friendship. Just as she's guided me through a bunch of hairstyles (some more successful than others), her friendship with me has also lasted through several phases (unfortunately some more difficult than others). Thank you Amanda Vermaas Evans Berube for being the best hairdresser-turned-best friend ever! You are the family I choose, the wind beneath my wings, and the calm to my storm. I love you for transforming my hair and, more importantly, my heart. (This photo was taken in Utah, many years later after that haircut she fixed for me.)

Dec. 20: After Ammon graduated high school in 2018, we hosted a BBQ the following day and invited family and friends to come celebrate his accomplishments. Some family stopped by and many of his friends joined us and stayed for a while. It was such a fun occasion, made even more fun when my youngest sister Trina Edens showed up and surprised us! It is pretty rare for my out-of-state siblings to visit me in Salmon, and I was blown away when she arrived! She stayed for a few hours and hung out with us around our outdoor fire pit as the party died down. As we were talking, I told her that every time I go out of town, I always stop at a thrift store and heavily peruse the children's book section. When I started teaching, I desperately wanted a classroom library, but the only way I could really afford it was by secondhand shopping. It's taken me years, but I finally have a classroom library that I LOVE, with many styles of genres and reading levels, and a detailed, labeled system to organize them all. But compared to my classroom library, my sister Trina has an even larger, and more impressive, home library! She's a lover of books, which is why we began discussing that topic at the BBQ. I told her that I'd specifically been looking for Roald Dahl's "Fantastic Mr. Fox" while searching thrift store books for the past 6 months, because I wanted to do a novel project on it in class, but I was unsuccessful at finding it. She told me she'd help me in my search, because she also likes looking at book stores and D.I. to add to her collection. Just 2 weeks later, I got a surprise package from her in the mail. Inside it was several of Roald Dahl's books, and I was so excited because he was my favorite author when I was a child! But the icing on the cake was that she'd included that coveted book. I've still never found one in thrift stores and I've never stopped looking! We are currently reading "Fantastic Mr. Fox" as our read-aloud novel in my class, thanks to my sister. Thank you, Trina, for being so thoughtful and generous! I love you.

Dec. 21: I started working at West Jefferson School District in 2017. Prior to that, I had worked for Salmon School District for 7 years, first as an elementary music teacher, then as an aide in kindergarten & pre-school. I was hired by West J to teach 2nd grade. It was my first experience being a homeroom teacher, and I was SO excited! I was also very nervous. I felt like I should make a good impression since this new community didn't know me. I set my level of standards and expectations high for myself because I wanted to prove to the staff and administration that they made the right choice in hiring me, an outsider. I was so afraid of their judgment of me if I was anything less than a perfect teacher. Of course, this expectation was unrealistic, and I realized that I had a lot to learn: not just as a teacher, but as a person. Months after I started, I had my first evaluation with my principal Jeff Haroldsen, where he went over the list of criteria from my first observation. In that evaluation, he said something that changed my life. As we were discussing my expectations for myself, he admitted that he'd gone through a similar time of trying to prove himself as a 4th grade teacher, and then he casually stated that he had Bi-Polar, and how he learned to use his strengths in the classroom rather than always coming up short when he compared his teaching style to others. I instantly repeated back to him, in case I hadn't heard right, "Did you say you have Bi-Polar?" He replied, rather nonchalantly, "Yes". It's difficult to describe what happened next: a wave of emotion literally cascaded through my body. The wave was like the feeling of relief, mixed with a feeling of being lighter-than-air. You see, I also have Bi-Polar; I was diagnosed back in 2005. However, it's something that I felt ashamed about, and something that I tried to hide. I don't like people seeing or knowing about the worst side of me. I instantly realized that if this man, who was a member of this community, could be accepted by the locals, even to become an administrator, despite having a mental disorder, then there was hope for me to be accepted, too. I could see and feel the power that he had in recognizing and admitting his mental health journey. Ether 12:27 "And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make WEAK things become STRONG unto them." I used Jeff's example as my guide: I didn't need to hide my ugly parts, I didn't need to be perfect at my job, I just needed to be true to myself and use my strengths to be the best teacher I could be. Jeff was big on promoting strengths within the staff: my favorite inservice day I've ever had was when he had us do the "Strength Finder" course. When I changed my mindset, I realized I didn't need to fear being judged for who I WASN'T, but rather, I just needed to show my students, the staff, and the community who I WAS. And the community responded by accepting me with open arms. I can honestly say I've never been so lovingly accepted in my entire life as the years I worked at West J. And I'm a better person for it: I changed from an insecure individual to a confident one. Thank you, Jeff, for being my inspiration and for being open and honest about who you are, because it gave me the courage to do the same for myself. (Photo caption: Jeff (left) was the star guest in our class one week every year for the 4 years I taught at West J. He always got the kids excited when he brought in his guitar for show & tell! My final year there, he also brought in Superintendent Williams (right) to join him!)

Dec. 22: I love music, and I especially love to sing. I feel that I've been gifted with a singing voice that shines best in 2 situations: karaoke bars and funerals. In my adult life, I have probably sung at more than 25 funerals a/o graveside services, and it's been my honor to do so. The hardest funeral I've ever sang at was this summer. My young, vivacious, creative, funny, loving student Kylee passed away unexpectedly in August after experiencing a veinous stroke that caused swelling on her brain. She was only 10 years old. I was able to teach her in both 2nd and 3rd grade, and watched her grow and mature so much in that time, amidst the pandemic. Her death was, and still is, very painful. After she passed, I felt very strongly that I needed to sing at her funeral, and the song title was impressed upon my mind, too. I messaged her mom to see if it would be okay if I sang at her sweet daughter's funeral, and she agreed. She later told me that she'd never heard of the song I had chosen, until about a half hour before I messaged her, when someone had suggested she listen to the same song on YouTube. When I texted her shortly after with that exact same song recommendation, she also felt impressed that it was meant to be. I practiced that song over and over for the next week, well over two dozen times, trying to make it through without crying. I wanted to honor Kylee without being a blubbering mess while singing at her funeral. The day before her funeral,  Val Sawicki asked me if I wanted her to come to the services with me. I got to know Val really well when I worked at West J: she was my mentor teacher, and my 2nd grade level team teacher for 2 years before she retired. I know Val well enough to know what she likes (donuts, Halloween, the moon, chickens) and what she doesn't like (hot flashes, bullies, and funerals). Knowing this, I told her that I would be fine, and that she didn't need to come to the funeral. On the morning of the funeral, as I was driving from Salmon to Terreton, she called me and said she was worried about me being there alone and that she was going to join me. She was on-call for driving the ambulance that day, so she came to the church wearing her EMT uniform. I was sitting on the front row of the chapel, across from where Kylee's family sat. She came right up to the very front and sat next to me and didn't give the slightest concern about wearing informal clothes to the occasion or being so close to the front, because her concern was only for me. I was SO grateful she was there. I was glad I didn't have to sit alone, and she soothed me and calmed me as the funeral began. When it was my turn, she assured me I could do it. I walked up to the pulpit, and was able to sing the lyrics without crying. But as soon as the song ended, I crumbled. I hurriedly walked back to where Val was waiting for me, flopped down beside her, and sobbed in her arms. She just held me as I wept. She came with me to the cemetery following the funeral and was my constant companion through it all. I had no idea I would need someone so much that day, and I'm so grateful for her foresight in recognizing that I did. This act of love was the single nicest thing that anyone has done for me this year. Every time I think about what she did for me on that difficult day (especially since she was on-call and doesn't like funerals), I get emotional. Val is an incredible human being: she always stands up for what she thinks is right, she has a brilliant sense of humor, but her greatest gift is her caring and compassionate side. Thank you, Val, for your friendship and for your unceasing support. You have buoyed me up and carried me through so much over the years, and I will love you forever as a result.

Dec. 23: This spring and summer were particularly stressful ones for me. The spring was busy, getting the twins ready for their mission calls and high school graduation. I had a rough last 2 weeks of school that really made me question if I should continue my career in education. We spent the first month of summer getting the twins prepared for their missions which began in mid-July. I worked 2 summer jobs to help pay for all the additional expenses like doctor appointments, surgeries, and Starlink internet to support their at-home MTC requirements. Forest fires began burning near Salmon in July, and we could see it from our house a few times, which was very scary. And right after the twins both left, my young, sweet student passed away in August. I felt like it was a long, stressful, emotional marathon. And at the end of it, Josh and I had a week-long trip of a lifetime down the Middle Fork of the Salmon River. We've dreamed about going for years, and it finally came true this summer. We both thought it would be a good relaxing getaway for me, but the timing was wrong and I ended up processing 4 months' worth of emotions in one week. I was a royal mess, and the group of strangers I was with were stuck with an irrational, anxiety-ridden, crazy individual. I was definitely not my best self, in fact I was at my worst for the bulk of the trip. And on top of it, I began having an embarrassing medical issue the 2nd of 7 days in. The Middle Fork is in the wilderness, so there's no phones or internet or electricity. Every day we would float several miles and set up camp, then break camp the next morning, and float another stretch of the designated 100-mile portion of the Middle Fork, and repeat the process. Unfortunately, there was a massive "blow-out" up river the day before we arrived from a massive rainstorm that produced mudslides, so the water was brown and yucky the whole time. It was the first time in my adult life that I have gone a week without showering, which contributed to my medical problem. By day 3 I was so uncomfortable physically, that it was making my mental state even worse. I went to one of our female river guides and asked if there were any first aid items that could help me. I was so humiliated, but she was kind and helped find a few things that made it slightly better. Jerrilee Squire Sever was one of the guests on our trip, and was a local, like myself. She asked me what was going on, because she could see how distraught I was while talking to the guide. I bawled as I told her my health concerns, and a brief history as to why I was such an emotional basket case. She listened without judgment. And then she told me a story of an embarrassing medical problem she too had experienced already on the river trip, which I was totally unaware of. She knew just what to say, and I no longer felt alone in my pain. Jerrilee knows and understands grief, and she was kind and supportive to me the remainder of the river trip. She encouraged me and empowered me. She'd ask me to join her for soaks in the water, and invited me to hang out with her and play games while at camp, and it meant so much to me that she could see past my crazy persona to the real person that lied deeper inside. I am so grateful to her for treating me like a human, and for forgiving me for acting like a psycho. It was an intensely challenging week for me, but Jerrilee was truly my ray of light in the darkness. Thank you for that, Jerrilee. Thank you for sharing with me, believing in me, and helping me heal by looking past what I was projecting to what my inner soul truly needed: a friend. (Jerrilee is pictured here with her daughter Tessa who was one of our guides, in one of the hot springs we soaked in on the river trip.)

Dec. 24: This is my final post to #LightTheWorld this holiday season. There have been so many who have brought light into my life, more than just the 24 I've highlighted this month. I have felt blessed as I've pondered each day the many people who've made a difference in sometimes small, but very meaningful, ways. My inspiration this month began with Talona Jones, who was laid to rest on December 1st. Her example of gentle kindness made an impact on me, and in her honor, I wanted to spread good cheer on social media by sharing memories of when I've been blessed by others who also brought love and light to my life. It only seems fitting that I conclude with the woman who is carrying on Talona's legacy: her daughter, and my forever friend: Hailey. I first met Hailey Linger about 18 years ago. We expanded our friendship through ladies' scrapbook nights. We created and crafted and talked and laughed, and our friendship bloomed. A few years later, Hailey was there for me during the darkest time of my life. She did something for me that no one had ever done before, and no one has had to do since. She stepped into a bad situation and took charge, and I screamed at her for it. We never speak of that day, but now when I reflect on what occurred, I can honestly admit that she saved my life. I don't know where I would be without her intervention, and I don't even want to consider the possibilities. Thank you, Hailey, for blessing me with your wisdom, patience, loving kindness, and forgiveness. You truly are one of God's elect, and are definitely your mother's daughter. You radiate with the love of Christ! Hailey's light has extended to my family, too. In 2010, she started a Christmas Eve tradition of hosting a large gathering with her family and friends. We have so many fond memories of ringing in the Christmas holiday in her home over the years. We feasted, played games, went sledding when the weather permitted, talked, and laughed the night away. Our families have expanded and grown up through this beloved annual tradition. My children looked forward to it as much as Josh and I: it became our favorite night of each year. This spring, Hailey's family moved to Missouri, which means this is the first Christmas Eve in over 12 years we haven't spent with Hailey and her family. We miss our friends, and our tradition with them. It's hard to be apart when everything inside me says we should be together. We are blessed beyond measure for the opportunity to celebrate for 12 good years together. We cherish the memories of a joyful gathering, where the Christmas spirit was felt because of the light Hailey emanated. Hailey, I know that the light you radiate will continue to shine wherever you go. Thank you for sharing it with both me and my family through the years! (This photo is from Christmas Eve 2018 at Hailey's home. She's on the left, speaking to the group about a game we were about to play.)