Thanks Giving

6:30a music starts playing on my alarm . . . too early, hit snooze . . . ten minutes later, better get up. I go through my regular routine, but this time in an empty apartment; all the roommates have gone to family or friends homes for Thanksgiving. Should I wear my winter coat? Step outside on the balcony, take a deep breath; no, I think I can wear a lighter coat today. I finished getting ready and head on out. Two of my neighbors wish me a good morning and a Happy Thanksgiving on the elevator and I walk out of the building onto a basically empty street with a smile on my face. I decide to walk on the park-side of the street and soak up the autumn feel of the park. There is one or two dedicated early morning joggers; exercising against the backdrop of a crystal still pond and scores of trees which have shed the majority of their colorful leaves...so much peace.

As I ride in the subway towards the parade I tell myself that there are going to be huge crowds (news estimated 3.5 million people), and chances were that I wasn’t going to get a good view. I say a little prayer to Father asking him to give me a good place to stand for the parade. I reach 72nd and walk up the stairs swimming upstream with the rest of the crowd. Sure enough, the street was packed. I thought of walking around to see if there was a better spot somewhere further down the parade route, but I told a friend that I would wait for her on 72nd street, so I waited.

Time passed on and the crowd started to fill in behind me and I slowly realized that I wasn’t going to be connecting with my friend; the once river of people had turned into a wall of ice, quite impenetrable. 45 minutes until the parade reached us. Started looking around to soak in my surroundings, is this the place that I was praying for? Father probably smiled because I was about to find out that it was.

My parade people. In front of me was a married couple; the husband had their littler daughter in a baby-buggy-backpack contraption, and the wife had the backpack full of treats, wipes, food, cameras, etc. You could tell that it had already been a long morning for the wife because she was cussing her husband up one side and down another. The wife would interrupt her husband chew out session, with a pleasant-toned check-in with her daughter who was looking down at the pre-parade mayhem. Why was mom so mad? To my left was a young couple that were very much in love with each other, and boy did they show it! I was getting a little nervous because it took them awhile to come up for air between their full on make out sessions. Talk about a preshow! To my right was a very tall man who had brought his daughter back to his home town (New York) from Puerto Rico so that she could see the parade. This guy was probably about 6’2” and his little girl was a pretty healthy girl herself. He had made his way up to me, and a woman behind him started throwing a fit because he was so tall and she couldn’t see. She said “all I can see is a big, tall wall of black” (he was wearing a black coat), and in that New York style, he replied right back “well, that’s something you’ll have to talk to my parents about.” His daughter was bundled up like the kid on a “Christmas Story” because she was accustomed to the weather in Puerto Rico. She kept asking her dad to put her back on his shoulders and he would reply (in Spanish) “I’ll put you back on my shoulders when the parade starts. You weigh a lot.” Straight behind me was a delightful woman and her two daughters. Her attitude was contagious. As people would weasel their way to the front of the line they would try to fake people out by pretending someone was waiting for them, or by just being polite “good morning, excuse me, etc.” It got a lot of people irritated, but this woman would just laugh it off and say “next year, I know how I’m gettin’ to the front. You gotta have a plan when you come heah.” When people got disgusted by the young couple making out, she would just laugh and say “it’s like there’s no one else around!” Then there was another couple, he has lived in New York his whole life and has never come to the parade. It was a good day for him. He and his wife were light-hearted, you could tell that they just loved being around each other and sharing the adventure.

As the parade started people shifted, squeezed forward, some people left, and a small army of children saddled their parent’s shoulders making the perfect barrier between me and the parade. I just had to laugh. In all honesty, the parade is more for them so I didn’t get too worked up about it. It was fun to look around me at the various people who were getting irritated because they couldn’t see, the crowd was too big, etc, etc; something magic would happen when people would make eye contact with another person. Even though they were in the peak of their irritability, looking at another person having the same struggles made it seem better. They would be able to look at each, laugh about the situation, and then get back to the reality of the parade. I think that’s kind of like life. We need those times when we can connect with another human being sharing our journey, laugh a little, and then get back to work.

The floats and balloons were great! I couldn’t see anything that wasn’t elevated off the ground, but I’m sure that it was great too. Those large balloons would come down the street and cheers would explode from the crowd. It was great! I could tell that the end of the parade was nearing because people started to file away slowly, which meant that I got to get closer and closer. I really wanted to see Santa. I looked up into the rich apartment building lining the street and I could see a kid sitting in the window watching the parade. Arguably, he had the best seat in the house, but something about his look seemed to say that he wished her were on the shoulders of someone laughing and cheering. He needed to see Santa too. I kept checking my clock because I had to be uptown to start my shift at the soup kitchen and I didn’t want to be late. Hurry Santa, hurry!

Then he finally arrived, sleigh and all. It probably sounds childish, but I got so excited to see Santa. And this Santa was so good! He was so happy and when he would wave at the crowd it felt like he was pulling you in. Right behind his sleigh was a huge green star-shaped balloon, and in the middle written in gold cursive lettering was the word “Believe.” I could tell that he believed. I do too. I believe in the Spirit of what that Santa was projecting out to world. The sun was shining and it felt like it was warming my body and my soul.

The crowd started slipping away, but this time with a lot more smiles on their faces. I said good-bye to my new friends. It turned out that guy who was making out is moving to Utah to go to school for awhile; he asked if I was Mormon, and when I told him I was he said that he was too, but that he was inactive. I wonder what his journey will hold. I also said good-bye to the couple who had been quarrelling earlier. Don’t worry, the storm had passed and they were both smiling again. Storms happen sometimes; but storms pass.

Looking back on my spot on 72nd street today I realize that Father answered my prayer. He gave me a great place to stand for the parade; I got to see the Macy’s day parade, and more importantly a parade of daily life.

I saw that the subway station was packed so I took advantage of the unseasonably warm weather and started walking uptown. I saw all sorts of people running into the street markets getting their last Thanksgiving dinner items. I got on the subway at the next station and headed towards the Presbyterian Church on Broadway.

Before I walked in I said a prayer asking Father to change me as a result of the experience I was going to have. I wanted to leave that church a different person. When I got there I was guided down stairs to join with the rest of the volunteers. I walked into the large room and saw tables and chairs set up everywhere filling the large gym hall floor. Volunteers from the morning shift were finishing up the meal preparations that they had begun and the next shift of volunteers filled out their name tags and put on their aprons. Mr. Lenny was the organizer of the event. He was gentle with people, you could tell that his heart was in the work he did. We were given our assignments. I was asked to be a waiter. The way that it was going to work is the people would come in and be seated, one of the waiters/waitresses would get the person’s order and then go to the back of the gym hall where all the serving tables were and have the food servers dish up the plate. In my eyes, that old church gym hall had transformed into a five star restaurant serving a fine Thanksgiving cuisine.

There were five other people that worked in the section with me. Michele and Rich were the first two that I met. It was so comfortable being around them. We had only just met, but it felt like we had been friends for a long time. They told me about the upcoming trip to London there were going on, adventures with work, etc. Before they left, we exchanged information so that we could hang out another time, what great people. Melissa, Claudia and Seth were the other three. Seth is at Columbia’s law school, Claudia his wife is a psychology intern at St. Lukes, and Melissa is an intern as well.

The first three guests that were seated in our section only spoke Spanish. None of the members on my team could speak Spanish and they started to look at each other saying “what do we do now?” I walked up to the three men and welcomed them in Spanish and asked them if they would like to start with some drinks. The stress of not being able to communicate melted off the face of my teammates and the faces of these three gentlemen.

The shift time passed quickly. People came and went, got food, smiled, and laughed. Volunteers who had never met before forged bonds of friendship. It was beautiful.

A thin woman sat down in my section and I had the privilege of serving her. She went down the menu and selected out all the food that she wanted. I had to get some help from Melissa and Claudia because I couldn’t carry all the plates. When we put them down in front of her, with surprise in her voice said, “are these all for me?” She ate all the food on those plates except for some of the soup that she couldn’t finish. She stayed in the hall talking with some of her friends for awhile. I was busy working and she stopped me before she left, she looked me in the eye and said “thanks Cole.” I could feel the thanks she was giving.

There was another woman who sat down and ordered her meal. She would finish one portion of it and ask me if I could bring her some more. Then she would look at the menu and try out other things she had never tasted before. She stayed talking with some of her friends too. She stopped me too. She gently grabbed my arm and in her German accent said “thank you. I hope that you will receive blessings for your work here, all the blessings.” I don’t think she realized, but she was the blessing. I received the thanks she was giving.

I walked with an elderly man from Africa down the serving line with a make-shift plate I had made out of tinfoil. He would select the food he would want and we would pile it on the “plate.” He sure loved turkey. I wrapped up his plate and gave it to him. I looked into his thick cataract eyes, and he smiled and said “thank you very much.” I received the thanks he was giving.

The servers helped me make a plate of food for myself and I sat down with some of the other restaurant patrons to eat my Thanksgiving dinner. This particular dinner filled my soul.

We started to clean up the gym hall, folded up chairs, and tables, started putting away the food, and closing up the restaurant (I think restaurant has a nice ring to itJ). There was a young couple sitting in some chairs and as I slipped by them I said “howdy!” The young man started to laugh and asked me if I was from New York. I told him that I was from Utah, and he said that he could tell that I was from somewhere else because of my accent. I sat down and started to have a conversation with him and the young lady sitting next to him. I asked him where he was from and he said originally from Arkansas. I asked the young lady and she said “I don’t know.” I thought that maybe she didn’t feel safe telling me, and I didn’t want to force her or make an issue of it so I just said “that’s ok, sometimes it’s hard to know.” Little did I know how true that was.

My new friend Benjamin started to tell me their story. He and Charlence are married and currently sleeping on the streets. He recently found out that he was adopted. His adoptive parents didn’t want him to find out, and when he did, they became very cold towards him. Their coldness had increased to frigidness and a few months back they kicked him out of the house. Charlence was also adopted. When she told me that she didn’t know where she was from, she didn’t mean it in a flippant way, she really doesn’t know where she is from. Her adoptive parents kicked her out too. Now this young couple spends their day figuring out how they can survive. They have one rolling suitcase with all of their earthly possessions in it. A social work team that works with the homeless gave them some sleeping bags because it had been getting really cold at night. They have a little spot by a church where they sleep.

Though, the details of their story were so heavy, this young couple had been able to maintain a positive outlook and a light heart. At times we all found ourselves laughing with each other and we joked about life. I started to tell them about some of the programs available to help them, but they had been taken advantage of before by a program they stayed at and I could tell they hadn’t healed yet from that experience; they weren’t ready to possibly get hurt again. I asked them how they survived, and they said “because of kind hearted people.” I asked them if there was something I could do for them; they said there really isn’t anything that I could do. I told them that I wished that I could do something and Charlence in her meek voice said “you already have, you made us laugh.” Benjamin smiled. I received the thanks they were giving.

It’s moments like these that remind that crying and laughing are like siblings, they are so closely related. Just writing down their words brings tears to my eyes. I want so badly to help them; I want to pull them off the street and make their life better; I want to kick down the door of their family’s house and ask them why? why them?; I want to march into the adoption agency office and ask them why these kids don’t have a right to know who their birth parents are, to know where they come from.

I gathered my things to go and I saw Benjamin waving to me. He asked me if I could get them a drink. I walked over to the older woman who was ladeling out the remains of the grape juice and asked for two glasses. She smiled and filed the two up. I took them to Benjamin and Charlence and with smiles on their faces they said “thanks.”

I walked down the street to the subway station watching people scurry around with food in their hands as they headed off to their Thanksgiving dinners. Father answered my prayer; I am not the same person that I was. I don’t think you can walk away from that kind of experience and not be changed.

I met up with a friend of mine later. He and I were among the few people in our ward who had stayed in the city. We decided that we would go out to a restaurant to celebrate Thanksgiving. For those who know me, I’m always down for second helpings of food J. He and I headed downtown on the train and got out in Little Italy. We walked down the streets of that culturally rich village and took a look at the menus of the restaurants that were open. One of the hosts of a restaurant came outside when he saw us looking at the posted menu; his friendliness sealed the deal. We went in and had our Italian Thanksgiving dinner. Ha ha!

And now I’m sitting alone in my room watching one letter follow the next as I try to put into words the spectrum of emotion that I experienced today. I went from a crowded street full of people who, at times (not all the time and not all the people), could feel a great deal of irritation because they couldn’t see all of the floats, to a old crowded gym hall where people ate as much as they could because they didn’t know when a meal like that would come again. At both ends of the day I met some wonderful people that greatly touched my heart. There are years when I have celebrated Thanksgiving, but today, I feel like I have received the gift of Thanks Giving.

11:12p time to go to bed. A day that I will never forget.

Macy's Parade

Lonley kid


Make out man

Woman in bottom right corner was so awesome during the parade! "You gotta have a plan when you come here"

Just look at how annoyed the woman in the sunglasses is. Read "Thanks Giving" entry about what she said.

A lovely crowd for the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade.

Yuan Yuan Yang

Last night was so fun. We had some people over to our apartment for a movie night. Brandon made arrepas (Venezuelan food) and Cate made a fruit pizza, so good!! Cate and Brandon brought a friend of theirs from school her name was Yuan Yuan. She was a very fun loving person and had a contagious laugh and so much energy. I was watching Cate make the fruit pizza, she had a bowl of frosting she had just made, and then there was an open tub of butter that Brandon had been using for the arrepas. Yuan Yuan comes bouncing into the kitchen with big smile on her face and looks at the fruit pizza and in a quick, energy-filled movement dips here finger mistakenly into the tub of butter and brings it right up into her mouth while saying “yum is this the frosting?” Cate didn’t have time to respond as she saw the event unrolling because it happened so quickly. So, just as Yuan Yuan put her finger in her eager mouth, Cate warning trailed off “wait, that’s the…butter.” Yuan Yuan didn’t have to be told at that point because her finger had already made its way into her mouth and her previously enthusiastic face melted into one of minor disgust. Cate and I started to laugh, and as Yuan Yuan slowly pulled the once eager finger out of her mouth her face warmed back up to its enthusiastic glow and she started laughing.

Then we were sitting in the living room getting acquainted and Brandon asked Yuan Yuan how much she thought we spent to furnish our living room. She was sitting on the couch next to Emily, and went piece by piece to create the best estimate possible, and figured that we had spent about $2,000 on furniture. Brandon smiled and held up his hand in the form of a “0”. Without warning, Yuan Yuan turned to Emily and squealed like a pre-teen girl sitting at the front of a stage of a David Archuleta performance. It was like watching two girls scream over a guy they had a huge crush on. Except Emily wasn’t expecting the scream; she was startled and her face was one of immediate panic. So in one big blur, Yuan Yuan turns to Emily and starts squealing out of unexplainable joy, and Emily starts to squeal out of fear. From where I was standing I saw Emily’s face and the back of Yuan Yuan’s head as she turned to join with Emily in celebrating our living room. It all happened at once, which made for such a wonderful moment!! I laughed so hard.

Live the Adventure, Now

I was reminded of an important lesson recently. I had some friends from Utah that came to New York on vacation; they only had one full day to spend in the city before they headed to Connecticut. There is so much to do here, but they realized that their time was brief, so they decided they would limit their activities to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island, and then end the day by going to the Met Museum. They invited me to go and I looked at my schedule and I had a few things that I needed to get done, but I decided that I would go with them. To be honest, part of me thought that I should focus on my to-do list and go to those places another day; after all, I’m going to be in the city for several more months. But the part of me that wanted to go won and I headed down to Battery Park.

It was such a beautiful day! The sun was out, there was a light breeze coming in from the water, there was a smell of honey-roasted nuts floating around the park (from the street vendors), there was a collage of people walking around, and a symphony of different languages and accents dancing through the air. Before I met up with my friends I just had to stand and soak up the day.
My friends had arrived at Battery Park before me and bought my ticket for the ferry ride. I found them in the long line that was stretching through the park. As we progressed down the long line, I made some friends with people standing next to us. There were two delightful women from England. Their names were Beryl and Janet. They were so much fun!! I never figured out if they were sisters or just close friends, but whatever their relationship was, you could tell that they were close. They told me that they were on a little adventure together; they listed off the places that they had been to in the past and laughed between themselves as they recounted some of their experiences. There was another guy that I met in line. He was Greek and he told all sorts of things about his life in Greece. He told me that the parties there are great ha ha! I busted up laughing at one point when he was talking because Janet looked at me with a smile on her face, and in her thick English accent said ‘you can tell this guy is fond of the drink’ ha ha!

When we went through security they made Beryl and Janet take off of their jewelry and belts to go through the scanners. My two friends were very well dressed and it took them awhile to take off all of their accessories. When they cleared through the scanners, they just grabbed their things and walked up the ramp into the boat. Beryl got her shoes, belts, etc on pretty quickly, but Janet was having a time of it. The boat was rocking so she was having a hard time keeping her balance. Beryl and Janet were laughing so hard. Janet stopped dressing for a second and started looking for something in her purse; between gasping for air between her laughs Beryl told me ‘she’s lookin’ fo anotha tablet!’ Janet gets motion sick so she was fishing through her purse for another pill, ha ha! As Janet stood there hobbling around with one shoe on, two belts in her one hand, and a handful of jewelry in the other, bags in both, laughing to herself, another woman standing next to her starred at Janet. This woman’s face looked like it was saying “what is this lady doing!” Janet looked up and saw the lady, so she started talking her. She had a very thick accent and her laughter was very contagious, but this other woman wouldn’t crack a smile. It didn’t bother Janet, she was on a mission to get herself put together. She was cinching her belt on and the woman who was starring turned to her husband and started speaking in a different language. Beryl died laughing! Janet had been trying to have a conversation with a woman that didn’t speak any English; Beryl laughed out loud saying ‘that woman is a foreigner’. I had such a great time with them!

These two wonderful women loved life, they went on adventures together, and enjoyed the human experience. I asked them what their families at home thought of their adventures and they told me that their husbands, children, grandchildren thought that it was great. I totally agree.

The Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island was great I’ll have to write more about that experience in another post. When we were done with the islands we went uptown and ate at a great pizza place “Pie by the Pound”. We sat on a table that was on the sidewalk and I just looked down the street at all the tall buildings. Great food, a nice view, and good company.

My friends decided to go to the Museum for a little bit before they headed back to their hotel for the evening. The bulk of our time was spent at the island, so I said my good-byes and went home to finish my to-dos before it got too late.

The lesson that I was reminded of from my dear friends Beryl and Janet is the importance of having adventures and doing them now. I have been in the city for a few months now, and I’ve loved it, but I really haven’t done a lot of things that people come to New York for. I keep telling myself that I will get to them, but the days seem to slip by. I couldn’t help but think of my Utah friends’ situation; if I only had one day what would I do? I wonder how many of those days we have let slip by. The funny thing is that all of the “to-dos” that almost kept me from going all got done. I think that the “to-do” side of us worries that we won’t get things accomplished if we take time to feed the adventure part of our souls. I’m discovering that is not the case.

On a bigger scale: if you only had one life, what would you do? I’ve heard people say that we should live each day as if it were our last. I’m beginning to understand what that means. I don’t think it means that we should push off every responsibility we have and just go on adventures everyday (though that it is important to do sometimesJ); rather, I think it is saying that we make our everyday life an adventure. Take a different route to work, meet someone new, stop by the desk of the person you pass every day, really look at the flowers, breath, soak up the sun, walk, laugh out loud . . . live in the moment.

The Beginning

One of my favorite things to do here in New York City is to wander. I love walking around without a particular destination in mind, no time frame to follow, no schedule to keep, just wandering. Looking, feeling, admiring, being. I also love talking to people. Living near Central Park has been a huge blessing because I can wander and I can talk to people.

During one of my first wandering sessions in Central Park I was walking on one of the main paths and I saw an elderly woman in a lawn chair holding an umbrella sitting next to her cart. I felt like sitting down and having a chat with her so I sat down on the bench next to her and said "you sure have the right idea sitting here in the shade." In a soft voice with a thick New York accent she tilted her head up and looked at me through her large tinted glasses and said "yeah, it's too hat out heah" [it's too hot out here]. What then pursued was a lovely conversation. She told me that she had lived in New York her entire life. She told me about her children and grandchildren, how the city had changed, and that I should be careful and "never let anyone in yur house except for yur family." When I told her that I was from Utah her eyes opened wide and with surprise said "are yu Mormon!" smiling I replied "yes" and without breaking eye contact she said "ah, Mormons are very poor." I had to laugh a little and I matter-of-factly said "well, some are doing alright." She asked for my name and when I asked for hers she introduced herself as Mrs. Rivera.

She told me that she was waiting for her husband; just as she was saying that I saw an elderly gentleman walking with a cane slowly creeping up behind her with a big smile on his face. As he approached he said with his equally thick New York accent in a tone of accomplishment "I just wolked from 104th street in da sun!" Mr. Rivera came and sat down next to me. He was wearing some kacki shorts a polo shirt, and saddles with white socks that came up to his knees. Mrs. Rivera introduced me to him and said "this is Cole, he is a Mormon." She then announced to both of us that she was feeling cold and that she wanted to go sit in the sun, Mr. Rivera told her to go ahead because he had walked plenty and wanted to rest a bit and talk with me.

Mr. Rivera's soul smiled and it poured out of his eyes. He told me about his family moving from Puerto Rico to NYC and how he has worked as a waiter his entire life. He told me about his successful children (one is judge, another a executive in a financial firm) and how his grandchildren are now studying to be a doctor and a lawyer. He shared with me that he has always loved learning, particularly languages. He never graduated from High School and wasn't able to go to college, so he would go down to the public library and check-out books, take them home, and study them during the evenings when he would return from work. His native language was Spanish, he quickly learned English when he moved to the NYC, and from his personal studies he taught himself how to speak French, Italian, Portuguese, and Japanese. As he spoke I could picture him sitting down around a small kitchen table with one light illuminating the pages of the most recent book he had borrowed and around the corner I could see his children seeing their father's love of learning. During our conversation he would go off speaking in different languages, and several times small groups of Japanese speaking people would pass by and he would greet them warmly. There were several elders being pushed in wheelchairs and when they would hear Mr. Rivera greet them in their language their faces would light up. While we were talking I think that he extended a warm greeting to pretty much everyone that passed us. Towards the end of our conversation his eyes landed on his wife who was then sitting in her chair at the end of the long bench soaking in the sun watching people pass her by. Smiling he told me that they had been married for over sixty years. He paused and just smiled at her. His eyes told stories of sixty + years of learning, growing, laughing, and loving. "I taught my boyz to treat women with respect and care. That's how we have lasted so long." He paused again and he panned around the park soaking in all the sights and sounds, and smiling said "it sure has been a great story." Mrs. Rivera came walking up at that point and said that she was done for the day and that they should go and buy some milk. Mr. Rivera pulled himself up with his cane and laughing says "I hope you brought some money!" and she quickly replied "well, all I got is a few dollah's" with the same level of animation he said "well dat bettah be enough for a gallon a milk." I sat there for a bit and I saw them walk down the path; she was pushing her cart and he was walking with his cane.

I spent almost two hours talking with Mr. and Mrs. Rivera in Central Park. I sure learned a lot. Mr. Rivera taught me that learning doesn't just happen in schools, it is a life-long journey. If we want to learn something, we can. Through his learning experience, he also taught me that as a future parent I need to live the kind of life that I want my children to live. If I want them to love learning, I have to love learning; if I want them to be kind to others, I need to be kind to others. Mr. Rivera also showed me that he cared about people. He learned their language, he greeted people with a smile, he complimented others, he laughed, he smiled. He didn't spend very much time telling me how I should treat my future wife, but I could tell by the way he looked at her that he really cared. And finally, I loved how he looked at his life like "a great story," because that's what it really is. We are all in the processes of a great story. There are ups and downs, good times and bad times, heros and villians, joy and pain, laughter and tears, big events and everday to-do's..... and when all is said and done it becomes a great story. This blog is just a little attempt to share some of my story with you.