In the Remembrance Book

I was given the assignment to compose one paragraph and one picture for a book the memories commitee will leave at the center as a memento of we, the 81 students here this semester. Each of us are doing this, and each of our pages will be bound together. This is is what I submitted.

I will never forget the sensations, sights, sounds, and tastes of this land. The smell of fresh meat hanging in the Old City, the acoustics in Augusta Victoria as we sang hymns, the coral sunsets, the eyes of children when they’d say, “five shekel,” the chill of the forum during classes, my first taste of a Coconut Nok-out ice cream bar—each of these is a memory etched into my mind. But when I think of my time here my thoughts will turn first to the faces of friends. I have been altered more by their examples of dedication, spirit, and selflessness than by mosaics, stone, and holy sites. Months before coming here I obsessively studied all I could about the Jerusalem Center. I asked questions. I researched. I feverishly read all information packets available. I did as much as I could. And then I came—but I could never have been prepared for the people I likely wouldn’t have met in Provo, even if I had sat next to them. So to them I say thank you for making this time memorable. Thank you for being my friend.