Chemistry Lab Blitz

At the end of my premedical training, I discovered an error.  I had failed to take the laboratory section for Chemistry 100 from a year and a half prior.  I had added the chemistry class late, and I didn’t want to press my luck worrying about the lab.  Now, I was just on the threshold of applying to medical school.  I was also leaving BYU for an engineering job in Texas in three weeks, so I had no choice but to cram the semester-long laboratory into that three-week period.  The instructor thought I was crazy of course, but I was used to crazy by now.  For the next three weeks, I stayed up into the wee hours of the night in order to have three experiments a day ready to go.  Early each morning, I would go to the lab commissary and check out an embarrassing amount of flasks, tubing, burners, and any other odds and ends I had planned for.  I was relegated to the far end of the lab so as to be out of the way, and the Freshmen lab students would eye me nervously as I ran from experiment to experiment.  After three weeks: mission accomplished.

LESSON LEARNED:  It’s easier to do things the right way at the right time than to cram them in later.

FEEDBACK:  WHAT EXPERIENCE LIKE THIS HAVE YOU HAD?

Ripped Up Tickets

I have very few memories of disharmony between my parents regarding our family's mixed faiths while growing up.  But one rare event was very painful to witness.  Mom was raised Catholic, but she and dad decided to raise us boys in his Mormon faith.  Mom later joined the Mormon church, but this wasn't until I was about 15 years old.  Prior to her conversion to Mormonism, mom was very active in her own religion.  One evening, we went to her church, Saint Rosa of Lima, to attend a fundraiser dinner.  This was unusual in that I couldn't ever remember going to an event at her church prior to this.  I was intrigued, but it was obvious dad was agitated about going.  I am not sure what conversation they had had about it behind closed doors, but the agitation was palpable.  As we were walking in from the parking lot, an argument of some kind flared between us kids.  Dad took the dinner tickets, ripped them in half, and said we were going home.  It was a silent drive, all except my mom who quietly wept.  Finally, she said, “We could have least given those to some poor members of the congregation – some can’t afford to go to the dinner”.

LESSON LEARNED:  In flares of anger and pride, we are all guilty of doing or saying things we wish we could take back.  Only the miracle of forgiveness can heal these types of wounds.

FEEDBACK:  WHAT PAINFUL MEMORY DO YOU HARBOR WHICH SEEMED INJUST AND WAS DIFFICULT TO OVERCOME?

Brandon's English Paper

Last night at midnight, Brandon woke Kathleen up with sad news. He had worked on an English paper for four hours, and now while trying to print it, the computer crashed. They were unable to recover it, so this morning I tried. Unfortunately, it seemed lost. It was not available in the “recently open” file either. As I showered this morning, I find myself singing the hymn “Did You Think To Pray”. I suddenly paused, and realized that for Brandon’s project, I hadn’t prayed. A few minutes later, I knelt in my closet and asked for the Lord’s help to find his missing file. Immediately, the thought came into my mind to check the “trash” on the computer. I did, and there it was – a copy of Brandon’s English paper in the trash.

LESSON LEARNED: I know that Lord answer’s prayers, and that He did in this instance as well.

FEEDBACK: HAVE YOU CALLED ON THE LORD TO ASSIST YOU IN YOUR HOMEWORK AND SCHOOLING IN THE PAST?

The Last Flower

Mom always enjoyed painting, particularly still-life watercolors of flowers.  When she came to Mesa to live close by us, I would visit with her each day and we would visit about what was happening in her life.  She was lonely and bored, and I would always encourage her to participate in activities.  In particular, I was always trying to get her to paint again.  I bought her art notebooks, art supplies, and even a cushioned lap desk on which she could paint while sitting.  But she never felt like doing it.  Finally, two weeks before she passed away, she did a drawing.  It really wasn’t much of one – a penciled sketch on a scrap of paper of a flower I had brought her from her front yard.  She was standing up in her moo-moo drawing it when I walked in her room, and I asked her what she was writing.  “It’s the drawing you always wanted”, she said.  “It’s for you”.  It became her last work of art in this life.  I had it laminated, because to me it represents a tender act of service during a difficult time for her.

LESSON LEARNED:  The little acts of service we perform may in fact be very meaningful ones to others.

FEEDBACK:  WHAT SEEMINGLY SMALL ACTS OF SERVICE FROM SOMEONE HAVE MEANT A LOT TO YOU?