Mosiah 2:17

My mom and dad have always been so wonderful at helping others in serious times of need, even if it means giving someone part of our house to live in for some time. In Louisiana, we had this playroom off the main part of the house that connected the garage to the dining room, and it even had its own bathroom. I remember a couple of people in particular living with us for a month or more at a time when they really needed it. I learned that same kind of generosity from my parents and I hope I'll always keep it with me.

On Saturday night last weekend, I was sitting in my room creating a pattern for a sundress and I heard the phone ring downstairs. I had my mp3 player going, and I didn't really think anything of it. After a few minutes the TV muted and my dad called upstairs to me.

"Hey Janae?"
"Yeah?" I replied as I pulled one of the headphones off my ear.
"There's a less-active girl in the ward here," he told me her name then asked, "do you know her?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Well, she's been living with her boyfriend, and apparently it's turned into a bad situation and she's a little scared right now--"
Before my dad could even finish what he was originally going to say I asked, "When are we picking her up?"
He paused. "About ten minutes."
"Okay, I'll be down soon."

With my dad being bishop in our ward, he's one of the first (and sometimes the only) to find out about this kind of stuff. Naturally my dad felt more comfortable with me going, because it is kind of weird to pick up a younger woman that he doesn't know, bishop or not. Plus I live for this kind of stuff! I LOVE to help and serve and give another person the shirt off my back! I was thrilled.

It was below freezing and snowing outside, so it was a long, slow drive there since it was across town. We eventually made it to a really small, pot-holed trailer park. My dad couldn't see any of the numbers on the homes, and I became a pro at finding the right places on my mission, especially when it comes to seeing little, invisible numbers on doors and corners of trailers. I guided dad to the right one, then as he went up to the door I made sure the trunk of the car was empty. Then I followed after him and climbed the slick, snow-covered stairs onto the dilapidated front porch of the run down trailer. The front door was open, and my dad was inside. He saw me and motioned me forward. We went in and I first met a friend of this girl, then her. I loved her instantly. She was a little emotional but was keeping it together quite well. We carried out her suitcases and bags, and as my dad was putting them in the trunk of the car I went back inside to see if there was anything else. She was standing there looking around the room with tears in her eyes, and that's when I noticed the pink bruise newly forming on her cheekbone below her eye. It broke my heart to know what this poor girl had gone through, both physically and emotionally.

"Last look around?" I asked with a comforting smile.
"Yeah..." she trailed off as she glanced at my eyes and then back at the room, fighting back tears.

We dropped her friend off on the way back to our house. As we neared home we talked about her interests and hobbies, and come to find out she loves art and even debated fashion design. She's seriously such a cool girl! After carrying her luggage upstairs to the guest room and showing her around the house briefly, we headed to the living room for family prayer, where we also briefly discussed church the next morning as well as a few other things. We went back upstairs and I showed her all the fabric I'd inherited from Nin's attic and the dress I was making. Then we wound up staying up for a bit in her room just talking. She knows it was the right thing to do, leaving him. She still loves the guy, but she knows she can't go back. She won't go back either. She feels surprisingly calm about the decision, and I reminded her that it's probably just the Spirit helping her to know what she's doing is right. It's just a really difficult thing to go through, especially because she loves his family now too. She's ready for a change now though, and she's pretty sure it will involve becoming more active in the church. That made me smile, and I reminisced a bit in my memories of when I made that choice too. I'm proud of her for figuring it out sooner than later.

The other day my dad made the comment to me that she reminds him a bit of me. I laughed. At first I couldn't decide if he was talking about the mistakes I made in my life before I gained my solid testimony or our personalities and interests. I laughed and gave him a curious smile, but before I could ask he answered me by saying that it was our interests he found so similar, even though I'm sure it was more than that by the grin he gave me. It's always comforting and something tugs a little at my heart when I realize again that my dad really is proud of me. I used to not really have much of a relationship at all with him, and there's just something so special about being able to talk with him, or go work outside with him, or go fishing together, or do anything as a father and daughter. I never used to have that connection with my dad. Now I wonder what all I missed out on when I was younger. But I'm happy to know him better and understand what he's been through and learn from him. Although, I'm even happier to finally realize how much he loves me, since I think I used to not believe that he really did at all. It was just a hard childhood being the only girl. I used to think it was really bad to cry, and that I should never let myself do it. For a long time I even thought it was bad to be female! Granted, I don't think anyone ever really told me those things. I just kind of assumed it all from my dad's and brothers' reactions to me when I was a kid. For a while I thought Dad didn't like me, but since I've grown up I realize now that he just didn't know what to do with a little girl. He didn't know how to handle the different level of maturity, different physical traits, different emotional strengths, not to mention the PMS. He had no idea how to raise a girl after having three rowdy boys! My guess is he just tried treating me like one of them, even though it didn't work out so well all the time.

Anyway, so life's been kind of fun for the past few days. I forgot how much fun it is to have a friend to hang out with all the time, although this way I have less of a choice of if I want to or not since she's staying here for another week. I just really enjoy helping other people out. It makes me feel like I'm actually useful and important. I know I am anyway, but I actually feel like it when I'm serving other people.

I hope I too can do this kind of thing when I have my own house one day.