The only full-blown craving I ever had when I was pregnant with Ada was for a Cinnabon. Not just a cinnamon roll, mind you. A Cinnabon. And I never got one. And I was seriously torn up about it.
Yesterday a former Young Women leader left one for me at my parent's house.
I can't even tell you how warm and fuzzy it made me feel. Not only did the thought count, but the deed, the genuine Cinnabon, the trip to the airport. . .
It's moments (surprises, good deeds, genuine love) like these that make me think that I'm really going to miss Provo when we take off in a few weeks. Growing up here has felt like growing up surrounded by so many people who are looking out for me. It's a comfort and a blessing and something that I hope my kids will have when/where ever we settle. (We are going to settle someday, right Mikey?)
Sometimes I feel like I'm the luckiest girl in the world. Yesterday, it was because of a Cinnabon.
2 comments:
I've never thought about the fact that there isn't Cinnabon in Utah except at the airport. If you ever move to Florida...there will be a Cinnabon in almost every mall. haha They are yum!! I'll have to give you the copy-cat recipe I have...maybe it will suffice when you are in Italy.
Moving away from Provo has made me realize how great Provo really is.
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