Girls' Hair, 1987 Plymouth 5th Avenue, and the Gospel of Jesus Christ

   This one is kind of a long one! I'm sorry about that. But it's a good one!

   What do girls' hair, 1987 Plymouth 5th Avenues (I know the picture is an '88), and the Gospel of Jesus Christ have in common?
   Well, let me paint a picture for you.

   This last Wednesday night, we were having dinner with a family in our ward, the Clarksons (I'm using standard last names, not real ones). They had invited over another member of our ward, brother Hammond. The night went well, dinner was great (chicken, rice and salad!), the company was good. After awhile, brother Hammond (I'm just going to start referring to him as Hammond and brother Clarkson as Clarkson for ease) had to go run something out to his car. He came back and said, "Duty calls! There's a man outside whose car has broke down. He asked for some water for his radiator, so let's take it to him! Clarkson filled up some pitchers with water and off we four went to help the man out.
   He was stuck on a hill with the hood to his 1987 Plymouth 5th Avenue open. He didn't look completely thrilled at his current situation as he talked on the phone. We got over to him as he hung up and began talking to him. He laughed as he said, "One guy stopped to help me and now I have four!"
   We all began to check out his car and soon determined that the grade of the hill made it too difficult for his car's fuel pump to get gas up to the engine, therefore causing it to go kapüt. That's right, I just said kapüt. Anyway. We determined that if we used Clarkson's mid-size truck, we could pull him up to the top of the hill. It would flatten out and his car would be able to start, allowing him to go get some gas!
   You may think that there are plenty of other ways that we could solve this problem, and while we could maybe have done it some other way, here are the reasons why we didn't:

1. The steep, semi-busy hill wouldn't allow for us to push the car up, or allow for him to just coast backwards down the hill.
2. Without power steering, his car was too heavy and long to just turn around and go back down.
3. No one had any extra gas sitting around, nor felt like going to get some. Plus, Elder Russell, our resident (semi)mechanic said that it would have taken almost a full tank to get the fuel going again (He had a 20 gallon (nearly empty!) tank... ouch).
4. No one was answering their phones - not his family, mechanic friends, or even a rather popular roadside-assistance company!

   Now comes the only problem: The only thing we had to tow him with was some very long, thin nylon rope. There's no way it would hold the weight of his car. Everyone surmised that the rope would just snap, even if we looped it around the frame and hitch of the car and truck multiple times. The loops wouldn't sit evenly and would just snap one by one.
   It was desperate, hopeless even. What could we do?!
   And then the words of my sister came to me: "Trevvy, when in doubt, braid."

   Okay, that's a lie. But for some reason, I did picture her hair braided. Bingo!
   So, I grabbed the two ends of the rope and handed them to Elder Russell. "These are yours. Hold them."
   I ran the length of the rope and took the bend that was now in the middle and ran it back to Clarkson. "This is yours. Hold it."
  Again, I went to what was now the end of the rope and, folding the whole thing in half, took it back to the man (We'll call him James.) "This is yours. Hold it!"
   So now, we had Elder Russell with two loose ends, Clarkson with a fold, and James with two folds and four strands (due to the way the rope folded. If you think about it, it makes sense).
   I stomped my foot in the middle and began braiding, just as I'd seen my sisters do time after time. When the braid was finally done, Hammond tied a good solid knot on the end so that it wouldn't come undone. I crawled under his car, looped the rope around the frame, back out, and then around the hitch of Clarkson's truck.
   With the back of my shirt dirty, my hands black from the dirty frame, and my tie somehow surprisingly clean, I watched, along with Hammond and Elder Russell in anticipation. Clarkson got in his truck, James in his Plymouth, and the moment we'd all been waiting for was lingering over us, waiting to happen.
   The truck's engine started. Parts smashed together as it went from 2-wheel drive to 4-wheel drive. Then, Clarkson put it into gear. James similarly put his Plymouth into neutral and it rolled back a bit before he caught the car with the brakes.
   We took a deep breath and told Clarkson to start slowly while signaling for James to let of the breaks.
   The braids groaned in pain as the all the weight of the car finally pulled them more than tight.
I went to grab my camera, only to find that... I didn't have it. Let me share my feelings with you on that: "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

I couldn't upload it to the computer,
I took a picture of the picture with my
 camera. Sorry that it looks terrible!)

   Wait! I whipped out the cell phone that Elder Russell and I share and snapped a picture. Whew! Here it is!
   To our amazement, the truck slowly pulled the car up the hill. The rope (and the vanity license plate on James' car) made horrible groaning noises under all the weight. The rope seemed to say, "Why are you doing this to me!? I wasn't made for this! Stop it!"
   I seemed to say, "Go go go!"
   After what seemed like forever, but in reality, wasn't that long, the truck and car made it to the top of the hill! Hallelujah!
   Then, James anxiously tried the ignition.
   A few clicks!    ...Then nothing.
   A few more clicks ...Then nada.
   One last try - some more clicks. And...
   Vroooooooooom! It roared to life like a lion chasing an antelope down the savanna. All was well. We tried to untie the rope, but it had stretched and contorted so much that it was better to just cut it, so we did. We spoke for a few more minutes and James thanked us, comparing us to the Good Samaritan. He shortly hopped in his car and drove off to who knows where.

  It was a cool feeling. We just helped a guy and he was on his way. That's all. We went about doing good.
   Now! I didn't just ask you what cars and girls' hair have in common, but also, the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I didn't forget it! So here we go.
   Truck = Jesus Christ. (Except, He's not a mid-size truck. He's a very large, heavy duty, unlimited-power truck with a V180. Yeah. His Atonement and Power are that strong.)

The rope after it was cut off. That's my size
10 foot for comparison.

   Broken down car = that's the rest of the world and all their problems, just packed in there tight.
   Rope = all of us that are trying to spread the Gospel of Christ, whether we are Missionaries, members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, Christians, or just plain ol' good people.
   If Christ wanted to, He could roll up behind us and easily push the car to the top of the hill. That would be an easy task for His matchless power. However, He wants us to have the growth, the trials that cause us to become better people. He wants to give us the chance to experience the joy that He does when He helps another child of God on their difficult journey through life.
   However, there is something else we must learn. We have to work together, to share the load, to simultaneously pull the load.
   If we pulled the load on our own, under our own power, we'd snap. Bam.
   If we all pulled at the same time, but not together, we wouldn't get very far. One by one, we'd slowly snap and break and be done for.
   If we all pulled at the same time, in harmony, working together, we'd make it. The Gospel would go forth without a problem. Sure, along the way, one or two of us would still break, but the load would still be shared and the Gospel would still go forth.
   Get it?
   So, when you're on that one popular TV game show and you're pick religion for $500 and you get this story, you'll know to answer, "What do girls' hair, 1987 Plymouth 5th Avenues, and the Gospel of Jesus Christ have in common?"
   Look at that. I just taught you a great Gospel Principle AND prepared you to get a nice bonus check.
   You're lovin' me now, aren't ya?
   I then got to go look at myself in the mirror after that. I was nasty.

And somehow, my tie was clean. It's a miracle.