Some things never change at the old Laguna Beach LDS Chapel. It is still tiny & packed with some of the best people in Southern California. (Okay, I'm a little biased, I love my ward.) I haven't been back to Laguna for almost four years, but it's always fun to "come home" for a visit. We still refuse to be introduced as visitors, even though it's been over eleven years since we left our ocean-front apartment on PCH for a little brick house on a dirt road in Idaho.
One of my favorite things about coming back to visit is hearing all the stories - stories of my parents as newlyweds, the mischief the crew of boys who practically grew up at our house, & funny things I used to say as a very precocious little girl. Melba,onne of the little grandma ladies that has lived in the ward since Laguna Beach was a charming little artist community told me a good one this past Sunday - apparently, sharing has not always been my forté.
Once upon a time, when I was about four, my mom took me with her to visit Melba's daughter and Melba was at her daughter's house. I had two small bouquets of flowers, which I had created myself. I gave one bouquet to Melba's daughter with a lot of little giggles & curtsies. I looked at Melba, then at my other bunch of flowers, turned back to Melba very solemnly and said,
"These are not for you. These are mine."