I love the movie Up. I cry every time I see it. I love how Carl and Ellie are just like eight years old and they already know that they are going to go to Paradise Falls. It becomes the thing they live for their whole life.
I had a similar happen to me when I was in 3rd grade. I still remember my friend, Sarah Anderson, telling me all about this lake, Moon Lake, a lake that was so beautiful and so pristine and so blue and so remote. Yep. The best part was that nobody else was there. You’d be up high in the mountain all by your lonesome and the only sounds you could hear were the wind in the trees and the birds a chirpin’. You had to hike a week or something to make it which is exactly why no one else was there.
The Beautiful Moon Lake
I knew that when I grew up I was going to go to Moon Lake. I’m afraid to tell you about this because now I’m going to feel a little accountable for it. I mean, you guys might expect me to actually do something about this dream.
I’m dealing with some serious self-doubt here. It probably started when I was a missionary, serving mostly in the congested Guatemala City. I was dying to go out to Polochic, a remote area where you basically hiked all day in hopes of running into somebody. They even spoke another language out there. Q’eqchi. All I could think about was going to Polochic. Who know what kind of lakes I might found out there?
Our mission president made all the decisions on our transfers and every month, I still found myself stuck in the city. So one day, I begged one of the office missionaries who was in pretty tight with the prez to put a good word in for me.
He looked me up and down.
“You,” he said emphatically, “Are never going to Polochic.” WHAT????????????????????????
“Why?” I asked.
“Just look at you!” I looked down at my pink sundress, the one with the little pearls going down in front and my Huarachi sandals.
The infamous pink dress. If you’re wondering about the haircut, well, when your beautician uses White Rain as her styling product, you know things are bad.
“What’s wrong with my dress?” I asked. He just rolled his eyes at me.
“Are you saying I can’t hack Polochic?” I asked.
“I’m saying you can’t hack Polochic.” Man. I knew I should have worn my Doc Martens!
Anyway, that’s when the doubt was first planted that I was not a really tough girl. I always thought I was a tough girl. I loved to hike. I could run a mile in eight or nine minutes. I even ran through the sprinklers sometimes.
But that doubt has never left me. So thank you very much Elder Vargas!
(continued tomorrow) Or today if you’d like.
I look a little tougher here though don’t you think.
Actually, maybe showing pictures of when I was twenty years younger is not a bad idea . . . .