Later that night, I realized I was due for a trip to the house on 18th ave (their christmas light are even bigger and better this year if you can imagine that!). So we packed into my car and drove up Virginia street. Soon after we turned onto 11th, when I saw something in the road. It was large, about the size of a beach ball, and black. We couldn't tell what it was, so we turned around to get another look at it. It was a porcupine! It guess looked something like this:
Except bigger and kind more weird/scary looking. For a while, I couldn't tell if it was dead or alive, then I saw it move in a sort of sad, half-hearted way.
I was so worried that it was injured, the poor thing. I tried to shine my lights on it so that people would see it when they drove. I was putting it in more peril with how I was parked, so I turned around again. When we parked, we saw that it was making gradual progress to the other side of the road. A car was pulled pulled over in front of us. A man got out and came over to chat. "We're trying keep people from running it over, " I said. "Yeah," he said. "I saw it while I was driving, and I came back and brought some fruit because I heard that they like it". Isn't that sweet? We were worried that it was injured, but the guy said that he read online that they just move really slowly. "I want to give it some fruit," he said. "But I don't want it to, you know, shoot it's spikes out at me". Yes. It was a precarious situation.
We turned off our lights (which I think were scaring it) and it began to make more progress. When it was safely across, we left. Our new friend said he would keep an eye on it for a bit more.
Yesterday in Relief Society, our lesson was on the Thomas S. Monson's general conference talk about gratitude. Aldous Huxley wrote, "Most human beings have an almost infinite capacity for taking things for granted". So in the lingering spirit of Christmas, I want to thank you, dear readers. Often times, I am too independent to accept help; too stubborn to admit weakness. Like the porcupine, I have a spiky exterior, and wander in the middle of the road, confident that I will be perfectly fine by myself. But you have been kind and patient with me. Although I seemed oblivious to your help, you kept me safe. I'm sorry if I shot spikes at you. I'm sorry if I didn't say anything before. I'm sorry if we haven't talked in forever. Your influence is felt, and has guided me for good. I haven't forgotten you.