Legacy

I've been thinking a lot about the legacy people leave behind lately.  For a few reasons actually.

A couple of months ago, I knew somebody in the "John Smith" prison (that's not the real name, but I don't remember what it was....it's only important that it is a man's name). In my search to find the prison rules of how to contact an inmate, I found an "about the John Smith prison" page.  Turns out that this prison was named after somebody. I stopped reading, and I'm not sure why they got a prison named after them, but it was intended to an honor to that person.

It just got me thinking about if that person is really honored that they named a prison after them.  Like they name libraries after intelligent educated people.  Medical facilities after those who have given everything they have to medical research.  They name stadiums after....OK I don't really know anything about the Eccles..... but you get the point. Cool people get cool stuff named after them.  What do you have to do to get a prison named after you?

Most importantly, what will be my legacy. What will be named after me, and will it bring honor? or embarassment?

Another friend of mine recently posted about a lesson learned by a friend that she's never forgotten. It was a simple lesson, and of course the kid who taught her had no idea how profound it was.....but it was and she thinks about it all the time.  That was his legacy.

Well....this week I think I found my legacy. And while I can't fully claim it - I think I had a GREAT deal to do with it. 

Way back in the day, when I was a little girl (read: 6 years ago, when I was 16) I had the best friend any 16 year old girl ever had.  Carly and I were inseperable. Really. There was nothing we didn't share, and nothing we didn't trust each other with.  She had moved into the ward, and introduced me to the concept of 'rags' the first year she came to girls camp.  I'll find an old photo and scan it in so you can see it in all it's glory - but for now....suffice it to know that you LITERALLY tie your hair up in rags - small strips of cloth. You curl it all up, and tie it in a knot.  You wear it in the knotted strips of fabric most of the week (at girls camp it's nice to not have your hair all down) then on the last day, you take them out and wind up with ringlets.  Spend and hour or two brushing out the ringlets, and wha la. You have an afro. A real life, genuine afro - and I don't care how straight your hair was before. It's amazing. And, at the time it was unique.

The first year it was just me, Carly, and Megan. The next year, we had 1 or 2 more people who wanted to do it.  Then the next year it was a big rag party the night before girls camp. It was the ward trademark.

Last week, a facebook friend of mine from my parent's ward posted pictures of girls camp. And those pictures had all the girls in rags. And then fros. This hairdo takes an enormous amount of dedication to wear and deal with, so I was truly amazed that these girls had pulled it off! So, 6 years later, they are still wearing the rags at camp - it was our trademark, and it is still the symbol of the Lindon 1st ward. And to think, me and my best friends started it! Other certainly carried on the tradition, and I have a feeling someone cool did it after us and that's what really made it cool. But, I'll take it.  Amazing. I can think of no better legacy.