Book of Mormon Read-athon

When I was in Young Women, our YW president was amazing. I still hang on her every word...and can...even have thousands of miles between us and have gone decades without seeing each other...because she's a wonderful author.

One of her most recent books—Buffalo Flats—spoke to my very inner being, brought me back to my roots, and was simply the most beautiful embrace of a book. 

I've been thinking about her a lot lately because when I was in YW she planned a Book of Mormon Read-athon. My memory is getting less reliable these days, in a way I never thought it would. I seem to have too many thoughts knocking around inside my brain to keep them all straight, but here is what I remember:

We began after school, probably on a Friday. 

Was I homeschooled then? Or was I attending the high school? I honestly can't remember what year we held the read-athon. But I do remember that I walked to the church from the dentist office, where I'd just gotten a cavity filled. My mouth was numb for the first little while, but that was fine.

We started out doing a pop quiz on the first few chapters, since everyone has read "I, Nephi..." a billion times. I remember there was a question about Sam and whether he was Nephi's older or younger brother and...I was one of the few who got that question correct. 

I remember that we were often in the primary room. We had a line of tables set up and a number of readers would come up to the tables to sit; they would each read one paragraph and then relinquish their seat to someone else. 

We accomplished a lot of our reading that way.

Somehow—magically—food would appear for us to eat in the gym. I'm sure there was an entire army of volunteers I was unaware of. I have no idea what we ate, only that we did. 

Sometimes we were broken into groups to read sections of the Book of Mormon. At one point we had to make a skit to present to everyone else about a chapter or two. 

I don't really know what happened on Friday versus Saturday. But at some point—late in the evening, probably 10:00 or so—we went home to sleep. 

In the morning people came around to pick everyone up—carpools had been organized to get us all to the church. My friend's dad dressed up like a gorilla and was "kidnapping" kids from their houses. 

We read and read and read. And discussed. And ate. All day Saturday.

And at the end we had read the Book of Mormon. 

It was exhausting. And long. And at times difficult. 

But it was also beautiful and uniting and good. 

I'm positive it was a lot of work...because we're hosting a Book of Mormon read-athon at our house right now. 

I've got nine youth in my basement working to read through 4th Nephi right now (they started yesterday; they'll finish mid-day tomorrow, having worked around a number of calendaring issues to arrive at the schedule they did). 

They're in my basement instead of at the church because Andrew (who was out of town all of last week) ended up having to be out of town this week and I...needed my little kids to be on their home turf. Because I'm also trying to finish up a manuscript and keep up on all of my classes and work this week...so supervising teens and keeping my little kids entertained in not-their-house felt like more than I could handle. 

So we're here at our house doing it. Why?

Because although we only have 10 youth in our ward and although we have—honestly (and ridiculously)—about that many youth leaders, no one wanted to attempt an activity like this. 

Flat out zero percent. 

None of them wanted to do it.

It was too hard. Too ambitious. Too long. 

People have to work. People have families. 

Kids will get bored. Can't we just...make a reading schedule and follow that individually?

My kids pushed hard for it. They wanted it. Many of the other youth seemed excited by the idea. It was a big undertaking, but if we all pitched in...it wouldn't be so difficult for any one person. 

Eventually they got "permission" to hold an "unofficial" youth activity...if they planned and executed it themselves. So, yay. That's what we're doing. 

So even though I'm a working mother (whose husband is out of town on business, leaving me a working mom with six kids at home) and even though I have another rather time-intensive calling that I get to do (I'm in the primary as music co-ordinator and I love it a thousand times a thousand)...I'm also somehow doing this. 

Because kids deserve memories. 

I guess.

And because all these kids have heard for the past six years in this ward is a big fat NO from everybody regarding every idea they ever present. And I'm sick to death of it. 

*ahem*

So my basement is full of 9 youth, representing 4/5 of our total youth (plus one friend taking the missionary discussions) and I hope it's a beautiful experience for them, though I know there's some frustration.

Miriam, who spent so much time planning a schedule and dividing up the day with breaks and fun activities—today they did shrinky-dinks for "small and simple" things, they actually trimmed my hedges while reading Jacob 5, they've painted copies of The Book of Mormon for themselves, and to give to the missionaries, they've stood on a wall pretending to be Samuel and hurled paper balls at each other, they've made origami boats and hearts, they've...done a lot—anyway, Miriam feels under appreciated. 

When she tries to shepherd everyone through the schedule she's met with eye rolls. 

Why should anyone listen to her?

And this annoys her. And her fuse gets shorter and shorter.

And I don't blame her. 

It's the younger boys, especially who are...as Rachel so delicately put it..."being butts."

The younger boys reported to me that that was an "unnecessary comment."

Maybe so. But even then...

It would have been delightful if any of the youth leaders could have made it for any portion at all, if they could have lent support in any fashion...that would have been...like...really cool. 

But here we are.

The missionaries have showed up for a portion of the event every day to do an activity with the kids. And thank goodness for my friend—who also works and has a time-intensive calling not with the youth—who took Alexander and Zoë yesterday and then brought them home with pizza for the kids' dinner last night (three of her kids are counted among the youth at my house...with her fourth hoping for some  company). 

Tonight we made hot dogs for everyone.

Here's a few pictures of our dinners:

Here are some of the kids taking a break on the Pop Shot (it's seen a lot of action the past couple of days):

And here they are have a Q&A session with the missionaries yesterday afternoon:

I hope, hope, hope it's been wonderful for the kids (despite their frustration and complaints about each other). I hope they feel successful. I hope they build each other up.

And I suppose mostly I hope the power stays on...because we've just had a gnarly thunderstorm move in...and the power went off for a minute...

...but it's back on now...so we can eat our banana splits and call it a night.