My husband Fluffy’s
daily walking route is a circuitous one. He starts at our front
door, whistles at me on his way past my temporary office (located in
our former dining room until I learn to climb stairs again), and then
goes behind our house. He cuts through our back yard onto the street
entering the next subdivision, then walks to the back of that
subdivision.
He then takes a trail
that winds through the woods, eventually leading to another
subdivision. Finally, he exits that subdivision onto a parkway that
leads back to our house. He doesn’t come through the back
yard, but follows the trail to where it enters our subdivision, and
then he walks down the street and back into the house to my waiting
arms.
The parkway is a busy
one, and as you can imagine there are many people who throw trash out
the window as they ride down the parkway. In this world, there are
people who throw their trash all over the place, there are people who
are disgusted with the trash, and there are people who pick the trash
up.
One day last week,
Fluffy decided he was tired of walking on that trail next to the
parkway and being disgusted by all the trash. He and I have been on
a quest to do more good deeds, and he decided that his first good
deed for the day (after taking care of me, which is a huge
good deed in my book) was going to be to pick up some of the garbage.
He took a huge trash bag and one of the grabbers I use to pick up
things I cannot reach, and off he went.
Fluffy fully expected
not to use his grabber and the trash bag until he got through the
subdivisions and back onto the trail that runs along the parkway.
That was where he had seen the most trash on his previous walks. But
that wasn’t the way things worked out. Once he was armed with
his grabber and trash bag and was thinking about trash, he started
seeing trash everywhere. He hadn’t gone more than a third of
the way along his route until his trash bag was full.
Fortunately, he ran
into an empty garbage can that had not yet been retrieved by its
owner since garbage pickup the day before, and he was able to empty
his bag so he could start again. As he expected, the bag was once
again bursting at the seams when arrived home.
He said, “I had
never seen that garbage on the rest of the trail until I had the
grabber and the trash bag in hand. Then there was garbage
everywhere. People always see the things they’re looking for.
I guess if you’re in a trashy state of mind, you’re going
to find trash!”
That was certainly a
true statement! It amazes me how many people are living in the same
world I’m living in, but who can’t stop complaining about
everything they see. Every political email I get proclaims doom and
gloom, until I finally stopped reading them and just send them
directly into my spam folder.
Similarly, we have all
known people who have stopped coming to church (or school, or social
occasions, or whatever) because they were offended by something that
someone said, or did, or didn’t say. It has been my experience
that if you come into any situation looking to be offended, you are
sure to find something to be offended about. I am sure I could come
home from church every week with a new offense to nurse if that were
my goal.
There are so many
grouchy people around us — servers at restaurants, department
store checkers, and even people who sit next to us in church meetings
— that Fluffy and I make a game out of it. We try to see how
quickly we can make the grouch smile or even laugh. It’s such
an easy thing to do. Even people who want to be miserable seem to
forget their resolve and smile or even laugh if someone treats them
as a human being and acknowledges them as more than just a server, a
checker, or a congregant.
Similarly, it is
wonderful to be around people who can see the good in just about any
situation. There is a story told about Spencer W. Kimball (a former
president of the Mormon Church) when he and a colleague were walking
down the street and passed a group of young girls going in the
opposite direction. The friend said “Isn’t it terrible
that those girls were wearing such short skirts.” President
Kimball’s response was, “I didn’t even notice
because I was too busy looking at their beautiful smiles.”
We can’t always
control the circumstances of our life. Sometimes parts of God’s
path for us are difficult to travel. But although we can’t
control the journey, we can control how we will react to it. I need
to remind myself to keep my eyes up looking for treasure, and not
down looking for trash.
Kathryn H. Kidd has been writing fiction, nonfiction, and "anything for money" longer than
most of her readers have even been alive. She has something to say on every topic, and the
possibility that her opinions may be dead wrong has never stopped her from expressing them at
every opportunity.
A native of New Orleans, Kathy grew up in Mandeville, Louisiana. She attended Brigham
Young University as a generic Protestant, having left the Episcopal Church when she was eight
because that church didn't believe what she did. She joined The Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter-day Saints as a BYU junior, finally overcoming her natural stubbornness because she
wanted a patriarchal blessing and couldn't get one unless she was a member of the Church. She
was baptized on a Saturday and received her patriarchal blessing two days later.
She married Clark L. Kidd, who appears in her columns as "Fluffy," more than thirty-five
years ago. They are the authors of numerous LDS-related books, the most popular of which is A
Convert's Guide to Mormon Life.
A former managing editor for Meridian Magazine, Kathy moderated a weekly column ("Circle of Sisters") for Meridian until she was derailed by illness in December of 2012. However, her biggest claim to fame is that she co-authored
Lovelock with Orson Scott Card. Lovelock has been translated into Spanish and Polish, which
would be a little more gratifying than it actually is if Kathy had been referred to by her real name
and not "Kathryn Kerr" on the cover of the Polish version.
Kathy has her own website, www.planetkathy.com, where she hopes to get back to writing a weekday blog once she recovers from being dysfunctional. Her entries recount her adventures and misadventures with Fluffy, who heroically
allows himself to be used as fodder for her columns at every possible opportunity.
Kathy spent seven years as a teacher of the Young Women in her ward, until she was recently released. She has not yet gotten used to interacting with the adults, and suspects it may take another seven years. A long-time home teacher with her husband, Clark, they have home taught the same family since 1988. The two of them have been temple workers since 1995, serving in the Washington D.C. Temple.