I Am Thankful for Free Agency: Washcloths and Pink Foam Curlers.

I Am Thankful for Free Agency

I choose to cry for things lost.

One of the classes I registered for while I was working on my Masters degree was Developmental Psychology. During the semester, the professor  gave an assignment to the class, directing us that we were to act in a way that defied commonly accepted social norms.  At the time, I was choir director in our Ward. On Sunday's when we were to perform, we met before Sacrament Meeting to rehearse. I chose, as my assignment for this class, to wear pink foam curlers in my bangs during rehearsal. No one said anything, but I did get some strange looks.

Since this time, I have incorporated this principle of social unconventionality whenever I step into an elevator with other people. I make it a point to smile and make eye contact with everyone around me.    I tried to ask a short question about any children someone may have with them or about something they are wearing or carrying in their hand.

Of course, I stand to the side of the elevator rather than standing in front of the door and turning to meet people from straight on.  My goal is not to confront but, rather, engage those around me.  I do this in an effort to create a feeling of unity amongst the people around me.  Since I am short and slender, I do not think that I appear threatening. Usually my advances are met with polite acceptance, if not gladness, of the interruption of what they expected to be a quiet ride between floors. My husband is 6'4" tall, and while he is a gentle soul with a kindly countenance, I think that his height puts him at a disadvantage in this kind of situation. Because of my size, and long unruly hair, I think that I appear more childlike than adult.


No one that I've encountered seems to mind questions from children. When my own children were preschool and elementary school aged, their curiosity and resulting questions, often amused and pleasantly surprised the adults they spoke with.

Back to my psychology assignment – in class on the following Monday, we were asked to report on our experiences. As each student told of the results of their experiment, the rest of the people in the classroom laughed as the most students recounted reactions of those around them.

As we finished, the professor commented on the fact that he was a powerful man. Without thinking, I blurted out, "No you're not!"   His response has stayed in my memory since that moment.

"I got you to wear curlers in your hair to Church yesterday, didn't I?"

 I had allowed that psychology professor to have power over my actions. I was not coerced, but did choose follow his instructions.  I accepted his authority when I  changed my behavior in compliance with this assignment.

I had been duped. Thinking that my friends and family, who would experience my unaccustomed actions, where the object of this experiment – I had been fooled. I was the guinea pig. This man had gotten  me to change my actions. He was right, I had allowed him power over me.

From that psychology  experience, I have since learned to be more careful in who I decide will dictate my actions.

In the book of Joshua, verse 22, he says "Choose ye this day whom you will serve, but as for my house, we will serve the Lord."

Psalms 119: 30, sings " I have chosen the way of truth!"

I choose to dance.

In Luke 10: 42, Christ tells Martha that "Thou art careful and troubled about many things:  But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which cannot be taken away from her."

That psychology class experience has influenced how I interact with my children.  It has reinforced my desire to fortify each of them.  Even more than choosing to avoid sin, I have hoped that they might have the vision to choose the best of the options available to them.

Kate chooses a hat.

The prophet Isaiah speaks about those in his day who lived wicked, disobedient lives. "Yeah, they have chosen their own ways, and their soul delighteth in their abominations." (Isaiah 66:3)  This life is not a black and white, wrong and right, sinful or obedient succession of choices. There are other choices when my children can make that are not only good, but better than the alternatives. Christ taught us that often the choice is not between good and bad – but between what is good and what is better.

Jon chooses to celebrate life.

I went, not too long ago, to buy new washcloths. As I looked over the selection in the store, I noticed that the side of the description of each object was an additional word. Each was marked as GOOD, BETTER or BEST.   The three alternatives, of course, reflected the quality of each item.  Those marked GOOD were serviceable – made of thinner fabric, with hastily finished, unevenly zigzagged edges.  Some were not cut truly square. They were roughen in texture and to the tag attached to each was a lightweight, plastic-like material printed in faded black ink.

 On the other extreme,  the BEST quality washcloths were neatly hemmed and felt plush and soft to the touch. They were of much heavier material than the GOOD washcloths and most had rich, embrordered designs along one edge. Most were large perfect rectangles.  The tags were of a sturdy cloth: the brand name and instructions for care beautifully woven into the small loop of fabric.

Such a difference between those labeled GOOD and those labeled BEST!

 Both were destined to fulfill the same function. I've used them to clean faces, kitchen sinks, scratched up knees, dining room tables, tiled bathroom floors, sticky fingers, plates and cups and forks and spoons.

Both filled the same need – one kind was hastily manufactured and the other was created with meticulous care. Both were appropriate to their function. I was faced with the decision of which to choose.

In Christ's time, two women also face  a similar situation.  Our Redeemer had come to the home of Mary and Martha to spend time with them. Mary, a good woman, was moved to be a good hostess, trying to prepare so that their home would be a comfortable, welcoming place for Christ. She chose to do good things – to clean and cook. Mary, on the other hand, chose the better alternative. She chose to sit and listen as Jesus spoke and taught of the best things that were and that would come.

I imagine that both Mary and Martha had worked together before Jesus arrived to make their home ready for his visit. Once their guest had arrived, though, Mary put away the good things she had busied herself with and chose the best alternative: to sit and hear Christ's counsel.

Good and Best – neither one was useless or destructive; however, there was one alternative that was the better of the two.

 Mary chose to listen, to learn, to gain the only things that we can bring back with us to our Heavenly Father after this life is over. Her decision was the B E S T of the two – the clean house in the prepared food were good things, but were temporary.

About the washcloths? I chose to buy some of both: the GOOD quality ones to scrub the tub and the kitchen floor with and the BEST quality ones to use in bathing my children and to offer for guests of our home to use.

 And the lesson that I learned from my psychology professor? I have heeded the counsel of my own mother to heart:  instead of keeping my house spotless, I chose to spend time with my children when they were small; to read to them at night before they went to sleep; to listen to them when they were excited or troubled and would do me the honor of sharing their feelings with me

I choose to notice the small things around me.

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I'm so grateful that I followed my mother's instructions to spend time with my children rather than keeping an immaculate home. My oldest daughter now has two children of her own. She has been smart enough to follow the example that I tried to set. Her children are young now and when they are asleep at night she tidies the house and cleans the kitchen. But when they are awake during the day, she plays in the sandbox with them, takes them with her on long rambles through the woods behind their home, and spends hours reading books and doing projects with them. She is choosing the better part and my grandchildren are maturing into the same kind and wise people that their mother is: they are learning to choose the BEST part.