“It would be Sunny and bright all the time, except when it had to rain – then it’d be warm rain.”
These are the words of one Kristen Otterbein, seventeen years old, a fellow twin, a hard-working dreamer, home to un-crushed positivity, unyielding exuberance and most importantly, a great, great friend.
In the beginning, I had no clear idea of whose story I wanted to tell. But walking into Waterloo Oxford’s library on that blustery school day and finding Kristen sitting at one of the centre tables, I knew that this was one story that just deserved to be told. She eagerly agreed to answer my questions, and then awaited the first one with a smile.
“NASA has alerted earth to their imminent doom: The sun will emit a solar flare that will swallow up our whole planet – we have one year until it reaches us. What will you do?”
“Umm…” Staring blankly and caught slightly off-guard by my approach, she laughed, and then answered with enthusiastic crazy eyes. “I would prepare my house and dig an underground tunnel! Wait… is this supposed to be serious?”
I grinned, “Yes.”
“… Then I would plate that tunnel with cement and vibrating – wait what is hitting the earth again, is it like really hot sun or…?
“The sun’s blowing up.”
“So it’s really hot… so, then yeah, I’d dig a hole, and plate it with stuff that doesn’t burn. Then sit there and have a party. Maybe bring friends.”
Not the least bit surprised by her humorous answer, we both laughed. She had a way of answering in ways that no one else would – A simplistic view of life that was easy and beautiful.
“Everyone has an escape – something that relaxes them and stabilizes them, what’s yours?”
Before I even had a chance to look up from my computer screen, she answered without any hesitation, and with a large, certain smile: “Baking.”
“Why?”
She blinked, never before having to have put words to why she loved baking. “Well… One, I like eating after I bake, and I like, like free-styling and whatever.” She did a show of enthusiastic jazz hands, before laughing and continuing. “Eating whatever I like, and I like it when other people like my baking ‘cause it makes me feel good!” She beams warmly and leans back in her chair.
I asked Kristen what kind of thoughts run through her head when she’s alone. She sneered good-naturedly, “I don’t know!” She then gave it some thought, looking out the library window. “I guess it depends on what happened that day – homework, probably thinking about what I have to study and what I have to do…” She paused, her face distant. “Yeah… Sometimes when I’m babysitting and sitting alone, I think, like what if a bad person came in, what would I do, and make like an escape or something and yeah.”
I nodded, amused. Kristen had a way of going through life and constantly succeeding because of her own hard work and persistence. Probably because she always had her goals in mind and what she has to do to get there. It’s also nice to know that she’ll be well prepared if she’s ever faced with a baby-sitter-robbery.
I asked her then, what the world would look like if she had the opportunity to create it. She swallowed, looking up as she thought. “Umm… it would…” She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again as she turned her ring slowly around her finger. “I don’t know…” Her blonde wavy hair fell forward as she looked down. Suddenly she looked up in a moment of inspiration and her eyes widened and sparkled as she answered eagerly. “We all would ride horses, all the buildings would be really bright colours, and everybody would by friendly… and… lots of flowers and… Hampsters! … No, just kidding!” She throws her head back and laughs. “It would be sunny and bright all the time, except when it had to rain – then it’d be warm rain.”
As you can see right now, it’s very obvious why I’m friends with her.
“Is there anything that upsets you – that causes you to be disappointed in humanity?”
Kristen sighs as she thinks, “Umm, YAA! How mean people are to other people for no reason! And how people just hold on to anger and they don’t confront the person about it in a nice way they just…” She contorted her face in mock pain, “hold vengeance and anger and gossip and meanness!”
I smiled as I thought of how simple the world would be if it was made up of Kristens.
“Do you have a favourite memory?” I asked her as she sat across the library table from me. She took some time to think, but when she had chosen the memory, her eyes lit up and she beamed all the while through the telling of it. She remembered a summer a couple of years before, where she and her friends spent a weekend canoeing to an island, singing songs, staying up late, watching movies, and talking as they watched the meteor shower. It was one of the days of her life that she would never forget – one of the moments of childhood where there were no cares – just the summer, the people and the stars.
“Alright, next question, are you ready?”
She laughed and nodded.
“If there is one place that you could go, free of charge, where would it be?”
“Camp.” The answer came right away without uncertainty. Quickly, she rethinks and says, “Oh, and travelling too, probably Greece, or France, or Rome… or Spain, or Italy!”
“Why those places?”
“Baguettes!” We both laugh. “And because it has lots of historical buildings and stuff, and a different cultures and things are different and beautiful!”
Reading off my next question in an attempt to sound like a real, professional reporter and columnist, I asked her what her favourite story was. She placed her finger on her lip, and stared into the distance, sorting through her memories. “Hmm… There are so many stories…” She quiets again and takes a long pause. “I like… okay.” She sits herself straighter on the chair and faces me, having decided on her favourite story. The story had been told to her by her Aunt many times in her childhood. The story was of a girl who lived on a farm. One day, she got new boots. That same day, the girl was wandering around the field and she got lost. The smart little girl then took off her new white boots, and held them out above the corn so that everyone could see them. Because of this, her family soon found her. “I liked the story because her boots were really pretty and white. And the moral was to never tell people – I mean, ALWAYS tell people where you’re going!” She pauses to laugh at herself. “I liked it because Auntie would always tell it to me and I like Auntie, and I wanted a pair of white boots because they were great.”
It makes sense, why she would have such fond memories of the story – family is one of Kristen’s highest values in life, and any event that is associated with them would be memorable.
“If you could create your own story, how would it end?”
I look up from my computer to Kristen’s blue eyes. She was smiling, and the answer came tumbling out of her right away in one big rush. “Happy ending, princess gets the prince and they all live happily ever after riding off into the sunset with a pony and children to not a castle but somewhere with a garden and a homey house not like a high end intense house but a homey house. In the countryside. Oh, and with a scrolling THE END across the scene.” She swipes her hand across the imaginary letters rolling across the imaginary screen in a large sweeping motion. “Probably in the Adorable Font, you know, the Adorable Font… Adorable Font, am I saying that right?”
We laugh together, “Yes. Yes you are.”
Catching Kristen off-guard, I asked her: if she was faced with the choice of being able to be telepathic, psychic, immortal, all-powerful, or just her, what would she choose and why?
“Ummm, is telepathic like… What’s telepathic?”
“Read people’s minds.”
“Um, I think I would be psychic, ‘cause that’s cool. And I would never have to worry if there’s a pop quiz coming or if something’s going to trip me or if something’s going to kill me. And I wouldn’t have to waste my money on universities that won’t even except me … yeah, that’d be helpful.” She smiles wistfully.
I then asked the ‘unavoidable question’: “Do you have any spiritual beliefs?”
“Yeah… Do you want me to say them?”
I laugh, “Well, yes.”
“I’m a Christian.” She lights up, and her eyes sparkle. “I believe that God is all-powerful,” She spreads her hands out before her in a broad, widespread hand-gesture. “I could go on for hours!” I smile, and she continues. “He created the earth in seven days, and he … has always been there, or here, or will always be here, and is Omni-present.” She looks down at her finger nails as she continues to talk. “Jesus was pure and blameless and sinless. And I don’t have to worry about anything… although I do…” Her voice becomes singsong and exultant and she brings her arms up in an elaborate display of jazz-hands. “Because God is in control and knows everything and everything is going according to his plan.” She leans back, feeling as though that’s enough.
I then asked her what the most important thing was in her life right now. Like all other questions, once Kristen has thought it through, she answers with complete assurance and confidence. “Family and friends.” She beams simply thinking of them. “Oh, and Christianity. That’s good. Should probably pop that in there.” We both burst out in laughter at the ‘almost slip-up’.
I then faced Kristen with a challenge. I spun together a story of three pathways, each indicating a different kind of character, and I had her choose which pathway she would take. So, sitting at a table in the middle of the school library, I had her envision the story: There are three pathways. One of them leads to Ease and Comfort, another leads to Stress and Grief but Eventual and Complete Fulfillment, and the last, the destination is Unknown. Along the path to Ease and Comfort, there is a narrow bridge, below it lies Suffering. The bridge has only room for one to cross, but sitting along its middle is an old woman. She is clothed in rags and looks to be nearing the end of her life. If you pass, she must fall, but then you would have a future of guaranteed Ease. On the next pathway, leading to Stress and Grief but Eventual and Complete Fulfillment, The pathway is open. But in the distance you see a hurricane. But for a moment, sun shines through a cloud… and then disappears as lightning crashes into the ground. Finally, you turn to face the last path – the one that leads to Uncertainty. It is cloaked in fog, the dirt roadway barely visible. – What pathway would you choose? Why?
She began to speak as she sorted through her thoughts, “Um, well I don’t think I would be able to bear to watch A LADY FALL TO HER DEATH!” Her expression changes to a mocking crazy-eyed-humorous sort of face. “And the…”
“The Path to Stress and Grief but Eventual and Complete Fulfillment.”
“Okay, that one. I think it wouldn’t be… Well, it would probably be really bad, but the end is good. And the Path of Uncertainty scares me. And… so… I don’t know. There’s comfort in knowing what’s at the end, but it’s also hard. But the Path of Uncertainty could also be hard, but you don’t know.”
“…What’s your choice?”
She smiled, and paused again, thinking intently. “I think it would be… the… sadness one. The Grief and Suffering one.”
“Because of the goodness? Because you know how it’s going to end?”
Kristen beams, and then nods.
For my last question, I wanted to know exactly what has helped to make Kristen the great person that she is today. I asked her if there was a moment in her past that somehow altered her perspective on life. It doesn’t take long for her to find the tale that she wants to tell. As she tells the story, the emotion of the experience clearly shows through, and it’s obvious that she will never be the same because of it. She tells it in a way that sweeps me up in the emotion as well, and I am captured by the experience. In the summer, she had a girl camper that was ten years old and was raising her three other siblings. She came to camp with her sister, Justice. Kristen recalls her as being an amazing girl – so caring and humble. She had a lot of sickness in her life, and her dad was rarely around. He had also just gotten remarried. His wife was pregnant and going to be having another baby girl. Kristen remembers the girl saying to her, “I don’t want her to have the baby.” She asked her why not. She said, “I don’t, because I don’t want to have to take care of another person.” Kristen found it absolutely heartbreaking that a small girl of only ten years old had to go through all of that. During her time there, they had to write on a rock all of their worries – and then burry it. Give them over to God. The little girl wrote so much. When the girl was leaving she was crying. She asked for Kristen’s email and phone number, and then spoke words so much wiser than any ordinary ten year old could possibly speak. She said, “You’re the best councillor I’ve ever had. But God is always with me, and I know that I will be okay, because God is there.” The experience left an eternal impression on who Kristen is today, she said that it was simply amazing to see the faith of one so young – to see how God can save those who are in rough circumstances, and show to them the good that is at times so hard to see.
And so, as I closed my laptop that contained all of the hastily typed, word for word answers and observations of Kristen Otterbein, I decided that perhaps it was a good thing that I had left my interview to the last minute. Perhaps it was fate, or a stroke of good luck, or perhaps just a highly convenient coincidence that I had found Kristen sitting in the centre of Waterloo Oxford’s library. Because not only is she a seventeen year old fellow twin, not only is she a hard-working dreamer, home to un-crushed positivity, and unyielding exuberance, not only is she a great, great friend – but she also has a story. And her story deserved to be told.
theskywillfall 