A Birthday Without Cake

I was leaving Chicago on my 18th birthday. The sun seemed to rise unusually slowly. I’d been waiting for it to light the sky and my surroundings all night.
As the sun crested over the flat Midwest landscape I finally felt like I could rest. 
I was on a series of Greyhound buses from Pennsylvania to Utah en route to begin my freshman year at Brigham Young University. 
My first bus had arrived in Chicago in the early morning hours. It was a point of exchange where I unloaded from the bus that had brought me thus far on my journey and awaited the departure of the next bus at 5:00 am. For several hours I sat eyes wide open in a filthy, poorly lit bus terminal in Chicago, Illinois. Most people sat quietly and dozed off. My heart raced every time someone spoke- whether to me or to someone else. I had a few snacks and sandwiches I packed from home but my stomach churned from nerves and fear. I couldn’t eat. I sat motionless.
The night passed slowly. I kept watch on everyone who came and left and rested my legs atop my suitcases. I tried to distract myself with thoughts of my hopes and anticipations for college life. But mostly I just silently prayed non-stop that I would arrive safely. 
Eventually, I loaded my suitcases and settled in on the bus departing Chicago that would take me to my final destination. 
For hours, I watched out the window as a somewhat familiar Midwest landscape seemingly unchanged- rolled by my window. I was grateful for a window seat on this leg of the journey to lean against. I sighed relief as we crossed the Mississippi River into Iowa. 
I finally drifted off to sleep. My exhausted mind told me I was “home” and I could rest for a bit.
36 hours later I arrived in Utah. A second sleepless night took me through Wyoming before arriving in Provo, Utah late morning. 
At the time, it seemed strange to me that I was the only rider who got off in Provo. 
I sat on my suitcases waiting for a ride my parents had arranged to take me to my college apartment. I had barely spoken to anyone in three days. 
I felt a level of emotional and physical exhaustion I had never known was possible, but I was safe, and anxious to begin this new chapter. 
As I look back now on this experience I wonder if when things got tough at school- Did I remember praying for three straight days that I would get there safely?
Did the peace I felt remind me that God is there? That he is mindful of me?
The transition to college had fun days mixed with hard days. 
One hard day I wrote a letter to Mom. 
I felt terrible for being a difficult child to raise and causing her so much grief the previous 18 years. The pangs of missing her and my family were intense at times. I felt overwhelming gratitude for her tireless efforts on my behalf. I needed to let her know in whatever way I could use words to convey the love I felt in my heart. 
I better understood God’s plan to send us to earth with families, and truly the important divine role of mother…
And… I vowed to myself there would NEVER be another birthday without cake!

-JC

Salted Caramel Shortbread Cookies

1 cup cold butter, cut into small pieces
1 cup powdered sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 cups all-purpose flour
¼ teaspoon salt

Add all ingredients at once to food processor. Mix on high for approximately 1-2 minutes or until dough forms a ball. Add 2 Tablespoons additional flour for high elevation. Roll into a log and chill for one hour.  Cut into 20 ¼ inch slices and bake at 350 degrees for 12-14 minutes. Let cool for 10 minutes. Add a dollop of Caramel Cream onto the center of each cookie. Sprinkle with sea salt. Garnish with melted milk chocolate.
Let set. Share!

Caramel Cream

6 oz. unwrapped caramels
2 Tablespoons whipping cream
Dash of salt

Heat caramels, cream and salt in microwave for 30 second intervals until melted. Stir until smooth. Let cool to room temperature.

-JC