August 31, 2009

We Are Family

Here are some pics of my Prague "family." There are in total eight of us located in Prague: four guys and four girls. Rachael and I live in Praha (Prague) 4, and everyone else lives in Praha 6 across the Vlatava. All of us each teach at gymnรกziums, which are the closest thing to American public high schools, and two -- Rachael and Richard -- also work part-time at a language school new to Prague and run by Christians, Fishnet. Ben is from Indiana; Laura is from Illinois; Richard is from New Mexico; Britt is from Texas; Frank is from New York/California; Rachael is from California/Arizona; David is from England; and I am from good ole Chicago, Illinois. We are all-together the Prague team (sometimes includes Joseph and Zach, who live in very nearby Kralupy), but we also break up into smaller teams, as well. These smaller teams are our most basic support-levels, and they are an essential part of how ESI operates. (Because Jesus sent his disciples out purposely and two-by-two - Mark 6:7-13.) We joke that these small team units function almost like marriages, just without the sex. So... I am on a team with Rachael, Britt and Laura form a team, and the four guys together are a team.

At summer training in Pasadena, we took some Prague team photos. It was a pretty good time trying to get these to work. Unfortunately, Britt and Ben weren't at training at that time, so I'll make sure to identify them in some non-team photos.

David, Richard, Rachael, Frank, me, Laura
























Vest Day! (Ben is in the middle.)


Britt (she's an artist!)


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Now playing: The Hit Crew - We Are Family
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August 26, 2009

The City of 100 Spires, part II

...really, though, there are MANY more than 100 spires and dozens more churches. The buildings themselves are absolutely stunning; it just so happens that almost all of the churches are now tourist hot-spots, museums, or concert venues, forgotten temples now with empty pews and void of worship.

St. Vitus Cathedral in Prague Castle

































The most famous stained-glass window in St. Vitus





























































































Check out the organ!


























































































View of Prague Castle and St. Vitus (in sunlight!)


















Old Town Square and Tyn Church




































Jan Hus statue and Tyn Church


















Old Town Hall























St. Nicholas























Cathedrals have tried in vain
To show the image of your face.
But we are, by your design,
The signature of divine.

We'll always sing your name.
Forever and today.

Yahweh, Yahweh...
Great is your glory when you go before me
Oh, we sing...
Holy, Holy...
Your ways are lovely. So high above me.
Yahweh

The fortunes of kings and queens
Are wasted chasing what we've seen.
Cause we are, by your reprieve,
The beauty framed by your suffering.

We'll always sing your name.
Forever and today.

Yahweh, Yahweh...
Great is your glory when you go before me
Oh, we sing...
Holy, Holy...
Your ways are lovely. So high above me.
Yahweh

Take me, and pull me through.
Cause I can't move without you.
I won't leave you alone, you say.
It will be okay.

Yahweh, Yahweh...
Great is your glory when you go before me
Oh, we sing...
Holy, Holy...
Your ways are lovely. So high above me.
Yahweh.

Ancient of Days...
Yahweh!


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Now playing: Needtobreathe - Signature of Divine (Yahweh)
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The City of 100 Spires, part I

Here are some images from my from my first few days in Prague. It is truly a beautiful, magical city.

I think this was the oldest functioning synagogue in the city.


View of the cemetery in the Jewish Quarter.


Charles Bridge and Petrin Tower.


















Joseph, Zach, Richard, Rachael, and me in front of Prague Castle.


















The most famous statue on the Charles Bridge, Jan of Nepomuk.


















Nearing the end of the Charles Bridge. We are now west of the Vltava, on our way to the Castle.


















Rachael under the bridge's tower.


















Starbucks (For you, Mom!)


















View from the top! (just outside Prague Castle)


















White peacock.
























Wallenstein Gardens


















Outdoor art and the National Theatre


















The Gehry Dancing House (Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers) across the Vltava
























View of central Prague while walking to Letna Park


















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Now playing: Sheryl Crow - Diamond Road
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August 15, 2009

Heartless, ESI-style

Last night, August 14, the last official day of training closed with the TeachOverseas talent show. Karina and I summed up four weeks of training with this little number.

(performed in the style of Kris Allen's cover of the Kanye West song)

(Not So) Heartless

Out on the field, you see them look
Tryin’ to see what’s different

In us and they want to know, they might just ask, how come you not so heartless?
How come you not so heartless?

I guess because you got Jesus.


We were so hot when, arriving Jul' nineteen it was a hundred
Sunny sweaty Pasadena was an oven
We made nametags, some of us felt like we were seven
Some of us bragging, showing off with more than stickmen
Steph, Alys say “I’ll draw yours, come on pass the pen”
Then, we try hard to forget first impressions
Then on, keep lowering those expectations
We’re warned of culture shock and bad teammates
But that’s okay; we prepare with Connal’s milkshakes
You got your Myers-Briggs, well I got mine too
So let’s try to show a little grace, you

Out on the field, you see them look
Tryin’ to see what’s different

In us and they want to know, they might just ask, how come you not so heartless?

How come you not so heartless?

I guess because you got Jesus.


Now you give us jam-packed weekends, always have us scheduled for an awesome time
Scavenger Hunt, Team Extravaganzas
Self defense mornings then betas and alphas…
Somewhere in there we add our own fun
The beach, the Getty, some shady bar
Late-night Nertz, then 4-hour movies
North and South: we all know that love’s the show
At Carice’s armpit hair we all sit and gawk
While Kelly keeps insisting she can do “guy talk”
We’re still so confused ‘bout Sabrina’s teapot
But that’s not saying that we’re ready to stop…

Out on the field, you see them look
Tryin’ to see what’s different
In us and they want to know, they might just ask, how come you not so heartless?

How come you not so heartless?

I guess because you got Jesus.

Come on write those lesson plans
Practicum starts right at sev’n
Present that info, Practice it right
Production had better end the night
Meanwhile, beware of those attacks
A demon might be at your back
God, we pray, be here with me
Each day from class to class
Wond’ring when’s our next nap
Teaching yet in our sleep
And now we dream at night of
Eighty-Twenty…

Out on the field, you see them look
Tryin’ to see what’s different

In us and they want to know, they might just ask, how come you not so heartless?

How come you not so heartless?

I guess because you got Jesus.


Out on the field, you see them look

Tryin’ to see what’s different

In us and they want to know, they might just ask, how come you not so heartless?





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Now playing: Kris Allen - Heartless (American Idol Studio Version)
via FoxyTunes

August 14, 2009

Flash Pass, or The Great Unequalizer

On July 3rd of this year, my dad and I decided that today was the day: it had been far too long - about 10 years - since we had been to Six Flags Great America, and we were going back. The inclines and drops of the American Eagle beckoned; we couldn't wait for the speed of the Raging Bull; we hoped we'd get to soar on Superman.

Now, even though these rides are all terrific, in order to understand just how much we wanted to ride them, you must know the sacrifices involved in getting to Great America. First of all, I-94 was torn up so badly with construction work and 4th of July weekend is notoriously one of the two most busy weekends for the park that, these two factors combined, our traditionally 20-25-minute drive to the park took 2 hours. Part of those two hours was spent on Six Flags roads, simply waiting in the mass (mind you, definitely NOT a queue) to pay for parking. We paid about $10 less than some simply by being willing to walk an extra 300 yards or so to the park's front gate. By the time we got in the park, it was almost noon, but at least we'd made it in! My dad can't handle the "brain scrambler" rides, so we instead scrambled to find a rollercoaster to suit our fancy.

Unfortunately, because it was one of the busiest weekends of the season, every rollercoaster had lines boasting wait times of 60-120 minutes (which we soon found out were in fact much longer). In order to avoid the worst of these wait times, we skipped Superman and headed to another new ride, The Dark Knight, where the wait time was only 60 minutes. We eventually found out that the ride had little to do with its movie namesake and was a short, boring waste-of-time.

But the more important, more interesting thing we found out along the way was the reason our wait-time was ultimately closer to 2 hours: Six Flags's new invention, the Flash Pass.

If the Flash Pass sounds familiar, you may be recalling Disney's Fast Pass. The Disney version allows every park guest "fast" access to popular park rides. Here's how it works: guests use their admission tickets when they visit Fast Pass booths associated with the rides, and they receive a designated hour to return to the ride for fast access. For example, a Fast Pass ticket might say, "Between 4:05 and 5:05 p.m., you may return to Space Mountain to use your Fast Pass." When you return to the ride, you bypass much of the regular line and skip to the front to get on the ride quickly. This service works because: 1) Guests don't get angry because they all have free access to the service, 2) A limited number of guests are asked to return each hour, and 3) Guests may only be in possession of one Fast Pass at a time, i.e. they must first use one up before gaining another. Basically, it is a great service Disney provides that allows guests to enjoy some rides (and stand in the regular rides) while knowing they will return shortly to their Fast Pass ride of choice. It's a big time saver, and makes the Disney experience even better than it already is.

Not so at Great America (nor, I assume, the other Six Flags parks). The Flash Pass is in stark contrast to Disney's system: the daily Flash Pass is only obtained by paying a hefty fee -- almost $50 for two people at the regular rate, and $92 for two people at the premium rate. While the Flash Pass issues too many passes per hour per ride already, those who pay the higher fee are allowed to ride even more rides, closer together, and while simultaneously holding Flash Pass "reservations" for other rides. Basically, those with the Flash Pass end up overrunning all of the popular rides (and there are many), leaving all of the regular riders in the dust.

On any day a 60-minute wait time would be frustrating, but because so many people puchased the Flash Pass (in order for which they also had to wait in line) on July 3rd due to the overcrowded park, regular riders were forced to double their wait times on even the less-than-exciting rides such as The Dark Knight. This basically meant riders (my dad and me included) stood in a queue for ten minutes at a time before moving approximately ten feet and then waiting again. You can imagine the anger regular riders directed toward the ride attendants who were simply doing their job by letting on those who had paid money for the Flash Pass.

Here's why the Flash Pass made me angry: People save up for holidays, for the days off work when they can have some fun with family. Walking around Great America, it is very obvious that most of the people at the park are average Americans, not made of a lot of money, and more than likely struggling through this economic crisis. They scrimp and save to pay the $50something park entrance fee for each of their family members, only to get inside to find that they hadn't saved enough to make their day at the park really enjoyable. Because they can't afford either Flash Pass -- and especially the better one -- the average American must wait in line for 90-150 minutes per ride on the holiday weekend. They are worn down, exhausted, and bored, and only have time to go on 3-5 rides. Each of those rides, though fun, is tainted by the new memory of long waits in line.

Indeed, the Flash Pass is Great America's great UNequalizer. While Disney's system allows every park guest who pays the initial entrance fee the same access to all of its rides, Great America grants opportunity to the wealthy and marginalizes the financially-struggling (and those who refuse to cave to the system). After my visit to Great America last month, I was really disappointed in Six Flags.


...That is, except for one thing. My dad and I had spent two hours traveling and getting into the park, and then another two hours waiting in line for the not-so-thrilling Dark Knight ride, and then another 30 minutes refueling on park pizza, when we finally wandered over to the Raging Bull, hoping to be cut a break. Well, the lucky minute we stepped to the back of the "60 minute"-wait line was the exact minute a Six Flags VIP Tours representative was assigned to approach the end party and offer back-entry to the front of the ride's line. Cut a break we were! My dad and I were ecstatic, of course, and even more so when our tour guide Mike offered to also take us to the front of the Superman ride, where we lay on our stomachs and soared through the air on the craziest ride of our lives. We grabbed some complimentary Cokes, said goodbye to Mike, and then squeezed in Batman (65 minutes) and American Eagle (40 minutes) before we had to leave the park for the evening (not without, of course, trying to ride the Viper, whose line we left after it didn't budge an entire hour!).

All in all, it was an interesting day. Thanks to VIP Tour Guide Mike, our day was partially salvaged, but I am still extremely disappointed in Six Flags Great America's Flash Pass strategy to pull the park out of bankruptcy and put it back in the black. For me, it is just a blatantly obvious way this corporation maintains - even widens - the great rift between haves and have-nots in America.

My dad, Mike, and I riding the front row of Superman.


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Now playing: AC/DC - For Those About To Rock (We Salute You)
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July 17, 2009

To Dad, In Honor of Fathers' Day

So after a month-long blogging hiatus, I am ready to catch up on many thoughts I've had over the past month -- even the past several months. I'll start with some thoughts on one of Hallmark's holiday creations.

I love Fathers' Day. I mean, I haven't always thought it something special. Until I was 18, my mom picked out and purchased my dad's gift for me. All I needed to know was what time we were grilling out as a family, if we were grilling at all. And even then, it was my dad doing the grilling.

With time, though, Fathers' Day has grown on me. Yes, I think it's a cheesy business ploy for us Americans to buy a whole bunch of cards from Hallmark, but I think it's important to recognize the father figures in our lives, for all they've given us, and if not for all they've given us, then at least for what they are meant to represent.

At church with my mom last month on Fathers' Day, a young father gave the sermon, reflecting on how difficult it is to try to be a father and to accurately represent to his young kids characteristics of our true Father in Heaven. He had me in tears when he apologized to all of those in the sanctuary who did not have fathers -- or didn't have loving fathers -- and who didn't know what the relentless, protective, unconditional love of a father could be. And maybe because their fathers didn't take upon them the challenge to love them as Father-like as possible, they never understood an entire side of God. That -- the knowing that others have prevented their children from knowing God as fully as those who have real father figures, that their children may not want to know God completely because calling God one of his names - Father, Abba, Daddy - brings back ten thousand bad memories -- that is what breaks my heart.

At the same time, it makes me so grateful that I am one of lucky ones. I have an amazing father, an incredible dad. Despite all his imperfections, and somehow through all of my own, I have seen clear glimpses of how God must love me. I have seen exampled before me ways I should act, what my priorities should be, and how I should love in my turn. I have seen these things in my dad's ability to be goofy and maintain a huge child-like spirit even at 57. I have seen them in how he coached my baseball and basketball teams in Spring Lake Sports for years. I have seen them in the ways he runs and bikes and skis and then goes on to enjoy the richness of a good meal. I have seen them when my dad once again placed family first and made sure I could spend the holidays with the family when he knew I couldn't afford to on my own. I have seen them in the ways he continually lifts up each of his children, praises our strengths, and offers his full support through our troubles. I have seen them when I hurt, because he hurts; when I rejoice, he does, too. I have witnessed his example in his prayers, his pursuit of knowledge, his raptures over all of Creation -- the mountains, the stars, the rainbow of colors on the Earth.

I am amazed when I learn knew things about my dad -- like how, despite a young family and a thriving career, he started and led a new Young Life club as a volunteer leader near age 30, or how he is not simply now the Vice-Chair of the Board of Directors of the Cabrini Green Legal Aid Clinic in Chicago, but how he has been unswervingly committed to CGLA's mission to seek justice and mercy for the poorest of the poor since his unpaid internship with CGLA while in law school in the mid-1970s.

Today, my dad continues to give countless hours to CGLA. Recently, he sued the Office of the Governor of Illinois on behalf of individuals who had waited far too long for decisions regarding their petitions for clemency from past crimes. CGLA argued that, because these individuals are allowed to reapply for clemency, they were due decisions, whether favorable or not.



Though the circuit court eventually reversed the decision of the district court to mandate decisions from the governor, when Pat Quinn replaced Rod Blagojevich as Governor, he immediately acted on the petitions and granted 11 pardons. Despite the messiness of the court system, because my dad and the CGLA did not cease pursuing justice on these people's behalves, they are able to start their lives fresh. How's that for an example of how to pursue justice and mercy?

My dad is not perfect, but he doesn't pretend to be, either. Rather, he makes known his mistakes and doesn't let anyone else confuse them for what is ideal or who God is. Because of that, it is so much easier to see all the marvelous ways he listens to God and pursues God in his actions and models good character and relationship with God for his children, his co-workers, and his friends. Because of the ways he succeeds and the character in which he fails, I love him more and more. As a grown-up, I can relate more as I find myself in situations I saw him in as a little girl. I can relate more as I marvel at the greatness of nature and of the entire universe because, watching my dad, my relationship with the Father has blossomed through the years so that I can have a full appreciation of His Creation.

Indeed, I am one of the lucky ones. Thank you, Dad, and thank you, Lord God, for giving my dad to me.

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Now playing: Mark Schultz - She Was Watching
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June 16, 2009

Let's Give Her Something to Blog About

So a running joke between my friends the Johnsons and myself is that I don't know how to blog -- in that, I've only been posting several times a month while they post every. single. day. Well, this past week, this pair certainly helped give me something to blog about. They, along with so many special people and places I hold so close to my heart, helped make an incredibly memorable, momentous week -- one that, I know I will remember for a long time to come. (Please pardon the cliche -- it's true!)

You'd think during a week in which three of seven days I was in the car for 11+ hours, I would be more preoccupied, exhausted, bored, and annoyed of all the driving and hauling and packing/unpacking than excited about sitting on my butt so many times for so long, trying to stay awake and not eat too many Cheez-its. I might have even expected the week to go that way myself. But -- without knowing if it was that the time alone in the car that allowed me time for reflection and peace, or that it gave me cabin-fever so that I savored any moment with other people, or that it simply allowed anticipation for big events to build and, eventually, spill over at the events -- the week was one of the best I've had in a long, long time, I can tell you that much.

Fortunately, I remember having my only big travel-induced mood swing the night before my first Abingdon-Chicago roadtrip (while Luke and Rudy were being such gentlemen by loading everything I own into my U-Haul -- they're such good friends to put up with me!). After that, it was pretty much smooth sailing for the week. Here's the 9-day breakdown:

Saturday 6/6: Drove from Abingdon to Chicago. Had FANTASTICALLY sunny weather, took the scenic route to Lexington, KY, through Cumberland Gap and saw my first Civil War reenactment. Successfully arrived in Lincolnshire with my U-Haul trailer in tow! Attended Natalie's Graduation/Going-Away party for Caroline and Dan in Lakeview that night and saw old high school friends for the first time in 3ish years.

Sunday 6/7: Attended Marina and Adam's wedding! Marina is my oldest friend (5th grade) - or at least the oldest with whom I still chat on a regular basis. The wedding was BEAUTIFUL, I have never seen Marina so happy, and many wonderful high school friends danced the night away with me.

Monday 6/8: Drove from Chicago to Abingdon after sleeping over at Kim's awesome apartment in Evanston. Had great weather, avoided traffic, and made good time. Arrived in Abingdon in time to join Stacy, Erin, and Molly for The Bachelorette (gotta keep watching Mike Stagliano...oh wait, I'd watch the show regardless of whether he was on it...).

Tuesday 6/9: Started closing up shop at the high schools. Had a "Farewell to Abingdon" picnic on the VA Creeper Trail, and despite the POURING rain and life-threateningly close lightning, many folks showed up to hug me good-bye, eat loads of brownies and pasta salad, and, once it lightened up, play in the sun. I'm so blessed to have each and every one of you in my life! The surprise of the night was when Jordan and Joseph, those crazy Johnsons, showed up at the picnic, having driven 3 1/2 hours from Charlottesville to say good-bye to me one last time. I love you guys.

Wednesday 6/10: Packed up my stuff at Holston and said good-bye to all the staff there. All of the lady teachers went out to beautiful Damascus and treated me to a delicious lunch :) Then, that evening, I enjoyed yet another delicious meal at Outback while celebrating Liz Jackson's (my name twin!) 18th birthday and high school graduation.

Thursday 6/11: Finished up at Patrick Henry and said my tearful good-bye to Pat, Patty, and Tina -- how much they taught me these two years! On Thursday evening, Rudy and I had our share of laughs as we packed the rest of my stuff in my car and hooked up my bike rack in the rain. Then, Rudy, Stacy, and I watched So You Think You Can Dance? and MTV (I've taught those two how to watch reality TV like pros) for several hours before I had to also say good-bye to Rudy. That night, I finally agreed to have a slumber party in Stacy's bed after she'd asked me multiple times throughout the year, and it was fantastic staying up late just talking until at least 1am.

Friday 6/12: Drove from Abingdon to Chicago once again, this time getting caught several times in construction and rush-hour traffic. Between Indianapolis and Chicago, cars were stopped so often that I decided to amuse myself with a Sally first: painting my nails in the car! They didn't even turn out half-bad! That evening, I met my parents, sister, and brother-in-law downtown at the University Club for the Rush University Medical College's Commencement Banquet. It was fabulous to honor my sister and the other graduates, and to have an excuse to get all dressed up. Hanging out in Chicago's "Harry Potter" room wasn't half-bad, either!

Saturday 6/13: Was woken up at 5a by my sister's dog who desperately needed outside. (I don't have to let her out every day, so I didn't mind the one day.) Went to Walker Bros with the parentals, the graduate, and her husband and chowed down on yummy spinach crepes and about a gallon of coffee before driving to the city for the Rush graduation at UIC. We then headed back up North to grill dinner, for which we were joined by Zach and Kristin, AND Huck and Nike. Many laughs were laughed, pictures taken, and glasses of champagne downed. A good night.

Sunday 6/14: Was woken up by the gorgeous sun -- apparently the first legit nice day in Chicagoland in a while. Picked Kim up in Evanston and headed to LaSalle Street Church for a wonderful 11a service that included one of my favorite hymns, Be Thou My Vision. After church, Kim and I wandered through the art fair in Old Town, ate a delicious sandwich lunch outside, and took advantage of traffic on the way home to chat it up even more. After dropping Kim at home, I did a little shopping and then took a short bike ride. I closed out the day by making it to bed before midnight -- amazing.

Now I can only hope the rest of the summer (what the heck? the rest of the year, too!) is as good as this week. I look forward to all the days filled with the same joy, patience, and peace I felt throughout this week!

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Now playing: Bon Jovi - Who Says You Can't Go Home
via FoxyTunes

June 2, 2009

9 Year Later, Still Holding On

Nine years ago today, almost to the hour, Rebecca Gayle Berger passed away due to asphyxiation during an acute asthma attack. She had been jumping on a trampoline at my friend Bob's house, celebrating with Bob, Jeremy, and Jackie having been all named new members to Patriot Singers, our high school's most esteemed choir. She was joyful. She was six final exams away from finishing her sophomore year. She was just fifteen.

I found out the next day when Gillian's parents called my mom, who, sobbing, relayed the news to me. It was eight in the morning. My friends had allowed me to sleep that long, knowing I wouldn't sleep well for a long time to come. My mom tried to tell me the news, but I was just confused. Becca? What do you mean Becca? Are you talking about someone else and not the good friend I saw just yesterday? Surely, you must mean another Becca -- my Becca is young and healthy and accomplished and the definition of "full of life." Sometime in the course of the morning, though, once I arrived at the Bergers' house to sit shiva, saw Rich and Judy's blank, tear-soaked faces, and joined a large circle of Stevenson students, I must have realized that what my mom said was true: Becca was gone.

After that, the week was a whirlwind. I remember walking to McDonald's with some friends and trying to swallow some food. I remember hearing Becca had donated her organs. I remember opting out of studying for my final exams, of taking my French exam with a teddy bear in my lap and tears slowly falling down my face, of pushing back my other exams. I remember going to the funeral service and singing "Letting Go" with what seemed the entire choir department, something that was a huge commemoration of Becca's passion and talent because music isn't traditionally a part of Jewish funerals. I remember some 700 people being present at the service for beloved Becca. I remember that Becca was a light in an age of really messed up, really confused teenagers, and people clung to her even as she was lowered below the earth. I remember losing, for the first time, someone who had been a daily part of my life, who I'd sat with at a pep assembly just 10 hours before her death, cheered on the phone just an hour before. I remember everything being new and frustrating and intense and fuzzy.

I still haven't been able to wrap my head around her death -- who can, after all, make sense of tragedy like that? -- but each year my thankfulness for her grows and grows. During that year, as we sang and danced with our show choir, Syncopation, and perfected "You Don't Own Me" for SHS's variety show, Showcase, we grew in friendship. Before that year, I'd felt uneasy when any of my peers referred to any other as her "best friend." I didn't know the meaning of the term; I'd never felt so sure that anyone was deserving of the honor. But Becca was. She was my first best friend. She was trustworthy, and hopeful, and humble, and excited about life, and she had the voice of an angel. She possessed all of those qualities I wished for myself, and she unabashedly showered them upon everyone. Becca was excited about being my friend -- like, I, too, was something special.

Throughout Summer, 2000, and over the next several years, Becca gave me a wonderful gift: She gave me a whole new group of "best friends", people brought closer together through her death -- a whole new group of friends upon whom I could depend. So many of us still are super close today. In Fall, 2002, when it was time for me to apply to colleges, Becca was still on my mind. I wanted these colleges to not only hear about this wonderful person but also to hear how she shaped my life and taught me to pass on all the lessons she'd taught me. So my essays were about her and how I've learned how important it is to pass on all the love she bestowed on all she met and how I tried to do that. And it was a way to take her to college, to have her experience something she never could.

Now, I carry Becca with me all the time. We all know that every single day is a gift, but when I think of Becca, I believe it. The urgency hits me.

Most of the time, I don’t wake up in the morning thinking this could be my last day. I don’t think, this could be the last time I will sleep in this soft bed, this could be the last time I’ll get ready for work, this could be the last morning coffee I’ll need, this could be the last time I’ll listen to that song on the radio, this could be the last time I’ll hear the voices of my loved ones. I don’t think about how life would continue without me in it, about how some may say their lives were different because of me, about how so many wouldn’t know the difference with me gone. I just don’t.

When I think of Becca -- and I pray, even as we near her death's tenth anniversary, that I may do so with even greater frequency -- When I think of her, all of it hits me. I realize, I am lucky to be alive, to have breath flowing in and out of my mouth, to be able to go about my life. And I realize, what a privilege I have here in my hands: the privilege to live, and experience life as God intended, and to share with others that life and love God wants for me and that Becca must have discovered herself.

I am persuaded to each day honor the memory of a wonderful girl. To know that she lives on still. To pray that she's with God. And to have hope in that prayer, because God shone threw her in every interaction, every smile, every grain of friendship, and every note sung. Because I knew her, I have been blessed.


Courtney, me, Becca, Abra, and Jackie on an SHS music department trip to Disney World in early March, 2000.

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Now playing: Stevenson High School - Please Don't Play With My Heart
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