Yearbook

by Allyson Braithwaite Condie

  “I think he’ll come,” Julie had said. And she had been right. Tyler slid into the seat next to Andrea and started messing with his tie immediately, trying to loosen it. “This thing is choking me,” I could hear him say quietly, and Andrea laughed.

  Dave came over to us. “Hey,” he said to Julie, giving her a hug. “This is going to be a great day for you.”

  Julie smiled back. “I know,” she said, returning his hug. She left for a moment to say hello to Tyler. Dave stood there next to me, scanning the faces in the room.

  “Who are you looking for?” I asked. “It’s almost time to start.”

  “Avery Matthews—you know her? I asked Julie if I could invite her, but I don’t see her.” He turned back around. “Hey, do you want to go somewhere and say a prayer together? This is the first time I’ve confirmed anyone and I want it to be perfect for Julie.”

  “Sure,” I said, and we went out into the hall and into an empty room. At first, I didn’t really listen to Dave’s prayer very carefully because I was still so nervous, but then I noticed that he was just praying for Julie, not for him or for me. He prayed that Julie would feel the Spirit and that she would know that she was loved, and that her baptism and confirmation would be the experiences He had in mind for her. That really snapped things back into focus for me. I decided to quit thinking about how nervous I was and start thinking about how happy Julie was instead.

  We went back into the room. Julie saw her parents and gave them a hug, and then we all went to sit on the front row. Of all of us—me, Dave, her parents—Julie seemed the least nervous.

  I’ll remember the night that she told us she could get baptized for a couple of reasons. First, because of how happy she was as we all sat quietly on the grounds of the Seattle Temple, watching night fall around us and talking in soft tones. “I thought I was going to have to wait for two years to get baptized. I thought my parents would still be upset,” she kept saying. “But not only have they given me their permission, they’re even going to come!”

  “What changed their minds?” I asked.

  “I asked them the same question and they couldn’t really answer me,” Julie said. “They said it was mostly just watching me change into a happier and better person over the course of the school year. My mom said that most of her concerns slowly faded away.” Julie smiled a little. “She still is a little worried about the whole temple wedding thing, but I’ve told her that we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I’m still hoping that maybe she’ll want to investigate the church and someday we’ll be here together.” She gestured to the temple behind her, rising tall and clean out of the night, illuminated by the floodlights.

  The other reason I’ll always remember that night was because it was the night that I decided to ask Michaela if we could start dating again. Dave and Andrea and everyone else decided to go see a movie, but Julie wanted to get home to see her parents and Mikey and I were both running the first race of the track meet the next day, so we needed to get more sleep. I offered them both a ride home, hoping that they’d both accept, and they did.

  I dropped Julie off first. She’d been sitting in the front seat, so when we dropped her off, Mikey climbed out to take her place and give her a hug. “Congratulations again, Julie,” I called out as she turned toward her front door. “This is the best thing to happen all year.”

  “I think so too,” said Julie. “And it’s been a pretty great year.” Mikey gave her one last hug and Julie went inside.

  Mikey sat in the front seat next to me, and I backed out of Julie’s driveway. I didn’t do a great job of it and ended up making one of those seven-hundred-point turns to get headed the right way. The silence was awkward. We’d been hanging out in the same group again lately, and it had been getting easier, but this was the first time we’d been alone and I didn’t know where to start. I thought I’d figured out what I wanted to say but I couldn’t quite get the words out.

  I glanced over at Mikey as I drove and I could tell she was trying to think of something to say too. The headlights of a car coming toward us illuminated her thick dark hair and made her look kind of mysterious. I was reminded of that night on the bus in the dark after the State meet. Well, that was as good a place to start as any.

  “Remember last fall, on the bus?” I asked.

  She turned to look at me. “Yeah,” she said cautiously and a little quizzical, like she was wondering where I was going with this.

  “That was another great night,” I said. My words hung in the air. She didn’t say anything. She just waited. Apparently she was going to let me suffer through this and not give me any help. I was glad that I was driving so that I had the excuse of staring straight ahead and keeping my eyes on the road.

  “Mikey, would you mind if we went out again sometimes? You can say no. I know that might be weird after we broke up and everything.” I paused in case she wanted to say anything. She didn’t, so I went on. “I’ve missed you.”

  “What’s changed your mind?” she asked softly. I slid a glance over to see what she was doing, and she was looking right at me. Whoops. Eyes back on the road before she could see how nervous I was.

  “I think I’m getting a little more comfortable being uncomfortable.” She laughed, and I hurried to explain myself. “I mean, I’m realizing that I’m not going to know how everything turns out down the road, so I’m getting better at trusting myself to make the right decisions for now. I guess I’m learning to have a little more faith and not be so worried about controlling everything.” I made a feeble attempt at a laugh. “Andrea and I have the same genes, you know.”

  “That would be fine,” Mikey said. “I’ve missed you too.”

  Relief washed over me. “So . . . do you want to do something right now? I have plenty of quarters for Space Invaders.”

  Mikey started laughing at me. It was a great sound. “I thought we were going home early so that we’d be ready for our races tomorrow.”

  “That was a ploy on my part,” I admitted.

  “I can’t believe I fell for it,” she said, still laughing. “Okay, Ethan. That would be fun.”

  The sounds of the prelude music snapped me back to the present. “Whoa,” I said. “The pianist is playing pretty loud.” Even as I said it, the music softened. I leaned back to ask Mikey in a whisper, “Hey, isn’t that Mr. Thomas playing the piano? I thought he was only accompanying your song.”

  “He was supposed to,” she whispered back, “but the pianist didn’t show up, so he’s sight-reading the music. He’s doing a great job.”

  “Brave man,” Dave muttered. “You couldn’t pay me enough to play in front of all these people. You couldn’t pay all these people enough to listen to me play.”

  After the opening hymn, one of the sister missionaries went up to give the opening prayer. She smiled at Julie before she began. “Our Father in Heaven, we are thankful for the opportunity we have to gather together for Julie’s baptism today. We are so grateful for Thy gospel and for Julie’s acceptance of it in her life. We are thankful for the opportunities for repentance and love that have been provided to us by Thy Son. Please bless us this day that we can have Thy Spirit in our hearts and appreciate the blessings of baptism and of the gift of the Holy Ghost.”

  Sister Choi gave a simple talk on baptism based on the scriptures. She talked about the concept of baptism, about starting over and being able to repent. She talked about the water of baptism figuratively washing our sins away. She talked about the Savior and how he was the living water of the gospel. “The Savior spoke to a woman of Samaria at a well during his ministry. When he asked her for some water, he was able to teach a wonderful lesson in John 4:9–14:

  “‘Then saith the woman of Samaria unto him, How is it that thou, being a Jew, askest drink of me, which am a woman of Samaria? for the Jews have no dealings with the Samaritans.

  “‘Jesus answered and said unto her, If thou knewest the gift of God, and who it is that saith to thee, Give me to drink; t
hou wouldest have asked of him, and he would have given thee living water. . . .

  “‘ . . . Whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again:

  “‘But whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life.’

  “Jesus taught this woman, who had been a sinner, that He loved her and that His gospel was for everyone, of every race. He taught her that she was worthy of His gospel and His love, in spite of her past, and that she was of worth. This is a lesson that we should never forget: we are all worthy of His love and He has living water—a gospel—for us that can quench our thirst forever.”

  Julie’s eyes brimmed with tears. I knew that this was what she loved best about the Savior and about the gospel. Michaela’s mother continued, looking at Julie and smiling.

  “Julie, today you will be immersed in the waters of baptism. Every time you see water, you will have a reminder that will trigger all of your senses. You can see the water as it moves boats, as it falls on the hood of your car, as it runs over rocks in a waterfall. You can smell the rain. You can hear waves crashing, rivers running, drops hitting the pavement. You can taste the clear, pure flavor of it. And you can feel it, Julie—you can feel the water on your hands and face, on your eyelashes and hair. When this happens, think of the waters of baptism and of the living water of Jesus Christ. You have the opportunity to be reminded of His love for you, and of His love for all of us, all of the time. He truly is the fount of every blessing.”

  Mr. Thomas had been listening so carefully to the talk that he almost missed his cue. Michaela was already at the podium before he stood up, music in hand, and hurried to the piano. She turned to make sure that he was ready, and they began.

  I looked around at everyone while the music was playing and Mikey was singing. Everyone seemed different today. I don’t know if it was because we were at a baptism and I usually didn’t see all of these people at church, or if it was something about me. Julie’s parents were watching with tears in their eyes. Back in his pew, Mr. Thomas, the older Mr. Thomas, had his eyes closed and was letting the music wash over him like waves. I closed my eyes to do the same.

  I never imagined that it would be so quiet when we stepped into the water. Julie walked toward me in the font and neither of us could stop smiling. People she loved and who cared about her were all around. It was time, and she was ready.

  Chapter 21

  May

  Julie Reid

  I’ve never kept a journal before, but Michaela gave this to me as a gift for my baptism. She said that today would be a day that I’d want to remember forever. She was right. I want to write everything down so that I don’t forget a thing, but I’m sure I won’t be able to write things as beautifully as I would like. It feels good reliving today, though, even if I can’t do it justice.

  I have been waiting so long for my baptism that it feels like Christmas, or the first day of summer. When you wait so long for a day like today you wonder if you’ve built it up to be more than it could ever be. I wondered if Mom and Dad would ever let me get baptized. I knew they would be happy for me if I could only get them to understand. Even if they didn’t understand the whole gospel, I knew that if they could understand why it was so important to me, they’d be happy for me. It took a long time, but they do see what it is about the Church that appeals to me. It’s the love and forgiveness and the sacrifice of the Savior that made it all possible. Once they could see that, they understood. I think that what helped them to understand was seeing the difference it made in me.

  I’ve never felt so good. The water was so warm. It was so quiet. I could hear every little movement of the water and feel every beat of my heart. My friends were all there, smiling at me. My family was there, supporting me, at least some of them anyway. I did think about Kevin and Mark as I stepped into the water. I wondered if they would ever get to feel as clean and happy as I knew I would feel. I didn’t feel angry or bitter or mad. Just hopeful. It was a good feeling.

  Being confirmed gave me so much comfort. When I first heard that the Holy Ghost was called the Comforter, I thought that was the best name anyone could choose. I love knowing that there will always be someone to comfort and help me as long as I do my part. Both Ethan’s voice when he baptized me and David’s voice when he confirmed me sounded so strong and sure. I knew they both knew that what they were doing was true. They’ll both be great missionaries.

  When I asked Ethan if he would be the one to baptize me, he got tears in his eyes, which I didn’t expect. He told me that baptizing me was the greatest honor he had ever had. I couldn’t believe that someone would feel that way about baptizing me, but now that it’s happened, I think I understand. Helping someone feel as happy as I do must be truly rewarding.

  A few of us went to walk around the grounds of the Seattle Temple later, after a little gathering of friends at Mikey’s. I’ve been to the temple grounds before, lots of times, to collect my thoughts and watch people go in and out of the temple. It’s where we went when I found out that I would be able to be baptized after all. Even before I had a testimony, I knew that the temple was a good place to be. Soon I will be able to go there to do baptisms for other people, which is an incredible thought.

  Even more incredible is the thought that someday I could be married there. Me! I remember a couple I saw there a few weeks ago who had just been married. They were more than happy as they came out of the doors of the temple and posed for their pictures—they positively glowed. The flowers and trees were thick and lush. It was sunny, and they were happy because they had been married in the best possible place and in the best possible way. It made me excited for the future.

  There is so much to look forward to in this life and beyond. I didn’t know that a few months ago. I hoped that it was true—that the world could be a beautiful place in spite of trials and problems—but now I know.

  Chapter 22

  Andrea Beckett

  Thousands of people were watching to see if I would make a mistake. I was not going to think about the last time I was in front of this many people, which was Homecoming—oops. I held on tight to the piece of paper with my speech written on it. If I lost that, I might as well walk off the stage and out the door like I did last fall. Oops again. There was just one more musical number before it was my turn to speak. I’d known that I would be the valedictorian for two months now—and I’d wanted to be the valedictorian for twelve years—but I was still petrified.

  Maybe I was actually fossilized. I hadn’t changed position at all and I realized suddenly both my legs were falling asleep. That would really be the way to deliver a memorable valedictory address. Stand up and collapse, then army crawl to the podium and cling to the microphone, legs dangling.

  My imagination has been occupied with only two areas of thought lately. I know it’s not very healthy, but sometimes it happens. First, I have been thinking about my grandmother, who died this past month.

  She had dinner with us one night at Dad’s and had laughed at the antics of my sister Chloe. She talked to me about my “wonderful honor” (being valedictorian) and told me how proud she was of me. She asked Ethan about his latest race. She mentioned (for about the hundredth time, but who could blame her?) how glad she was that Dad had moved back to Seattle. Then she went home and didn’t wake up the next morning. She died in her sleep sometime during the night. That great, grandmotherly heart of hers just stopped.

  From talking to her this winter and spring, I had learned that her greatest fear was that she would lose her mind and slip away into shadow, losing us and herself in the process. But it wasn’t how she died, thank goodness. She was clear and coherent right up until the end. I know she is with my grandfather now and I know that they are happy together. That is the knowledge that she often told me she had, but that I never thought I had for myself. To my surprise, I am finding that there is more and more that I do believe about the
Church. I thought I didn’t believe any of it. Grandma is the one who helped me start asking again. I miss her.

  The second train of thought, of course, was regarding the graduation speech. How was I going to write it? What was I going to say? Who would even care? All the other students would be thinking about what they would do after graduation, what parties would be going on, how much they were going to drink, and so on and so on. I was scared that no one would pay attention to me and terrified that they would.

  One thing was better than the Homecoming experience, though. I had friends again, people who cared about me and were rooting for me to succeed. There were people I cared about sitting in the audience. My family, of course, and Dave, and the members of the track team, who I’d finally gotten to know on the bus trips and in the meets this year, and the girls from church, and others.

  My speech didn’t even really exist (except in the form of a terrible rough draft) until the night before graduation. I was so stressed out that people were starting to get very worried about me. David, who had to speak at seminary graduation earlier in the week, brought me a book of inspirational thoughts and quotations from people like Nelson Mandela. He also took me kite-flying at the park to relieve the stress. Standing barefoot in the green grass by the water with my kite flying higher and higher did help. My dad kept suggesting poems that he thought were profound. My mom took me out to buy a new dress to wear, even though my graduation gown will cover most of it. Chloe made me a drawing and slid it under my door. It was of a princess giving a speech at a tea party, she informed me later. Ethan kept coming up with sports analogies he thought I’d be able to use.

  I was sitting in front of my computer, trying for the millionth time to think of something effective to say as an introduction, when my mother came in, holding an envelope and smiling at me.