I little realized when I first met her how quintessentially "Maile" our first meeting would be. Nor did I understand how much I'd come to love that Hello Kitty-adoring ball of fire and fun. Even though it was a long time ago, I can clearly remember my feelings on meeting Miles--and that's not standard procedure for me. I have an awful memory for where I met people and what their names are. But Maile made quite an impression on me from the get-go. It was at a dance, and a mutual friend introduced us to each other as we all boogied on the dance floor. We hugged, and then I said to her, "I like your earrings!" What I really liked was that this short, beautiful, spunky girl could pull off these unique, giant, silver hoops. Thickest, heaviest hoops I'd ever seen. And they totally worked for her.
Without any kind of hesitation at all, Maile began pulling the earrings off her ears. Slightly confused about the reaction my compliment had elicited, I didn't understand that she was actually giving me her earrings until she put those hoops in the palm of her hand and offered them to me with an expectant smile--expectant in that she was clearly expecting me to take them from her. Those earrings were easily the size of her palms. I felt embarrassed and flustered. It seemed to me that I had come off to this stranger Maile as one of those annoying kids who looks at you while you eat a popsicle and says, with a dramatic sigh, "I love popsicles. I wish I had one." And then the child stares you down with puppy dog eyes until you can't possibly do anything but grudgingly give them your popsicle.
That totally wasn't what I was going for. The earrings weren't even my style. She just made them look good. But Maile's attitude in offering them to me was anything but annoyed. To her it was just natural to give me--a virtual stranger--what she thought would make me happy. Where I was used to my compliments being received with an, "aww thanks!" or perhaps a faux-modest, "oh what, these old things?", Maile was apparently accustomed to flipping compliments back around into gifts and personal bequests. All I could think was, "Who is this girl?!" and accept her offering.
I got to see a fair amount of Maile after that. Our paths crossed pretty regularly because of the time I spent around her tight-knit extended family. Seeing Maile for the second time was nothing like those awkward situations where you're not sure if someone you met once will actually acknowledge you, let alone remember you. I think the second time I saw her, she spread out her arms for a hug and said, "Maaawtha, dahhhling!" And just like that, she wiggled her way into my heart and made me feel like a long-time friend. No need to earn or deserve her friendship. She gave it without question, without requirements, without qualms. Maile always made me feel like a million bucks.
A few years later, I had another important "Maile moment." It was four years ago, and it was a bit of a humiliating situation for me--not the type of situation I'd choose to be seen in by anyone, really. Miles popped up at a moment when I was feeling like a big nothing. Someone she was very close to was doing something that was hurting me a lot, even though I was doing my best to hide how it was affecting me. I tried to match Maile's enthusiastic greeting, but without any explanation at all, she saw what was going on, understood the situation, and then proceeded to chastise that person. Right then and there. Miles wasn't one to sit on the sidelines and watch something she disagreed with. She stood up for me in a moment when I didn't know how to stand up for myself. And I've never forgotten it. When I saw her later that night, with makeup streaks on my face from some unwelcome but unstoppable tears, she hugged me and gave me a pep talk. Somehow she combined compassion with chutzpah. And it was exactly what I needed.
A year later, Maile and I went on to serve Spanish-speaking missions at the same time. I remember keeping my eyes peeled for Hermana Tua'one in the MTC and how excited I was when I saw her my second day.
Hers was the first familiar face I saw, and such a welcome one! Friends serving Spanish-speaking missions at the same time would normally seem like mere coincidence, except that Miles and I left on our missions almost three years later than most girls do. And our birthdays are just a day apart. And I mean our literal dates of birth. I always call Maile my "hermanita," or little sister, since I was born a day before her, to which she has always said, "C'mon! It's only one day!"
Regardless of who was the big sister, we were birthday neighbors, and we turned 24 in the MTC. We were "abuelitas" among all the 19- and 21-year olds. We got to simultaneously laugh and roll our eyes together at the antics of the younger elders who used bananas like telephones and made Towers of Babel out of cups. Feeling like kindred spirits and with so much in common, Maile said we were "living parallel existences." I loved living a parallel existence with my hermanita. One of the most spiritual experiences of my life was singing with Maile in the MTC missionary choir and then crying buckets together as Elder Holland spoke to us missionaries in the most life-changing talk we had ever had the pleasure of attending. I will always treasure that memory--even more so now.
My hermanita Maile and I were pen pals for those next 18 months. I loved getting her letters. She always sent me a preparatory email to let me know a letter was on its way. And those letters were not your run-of-the-mill missionary letters with a play-by-play of lessons and investigators. But then Maile has never been run-of-the-mill. Her letters were little creative masterpieces. Nothing Maile did left her without the distinctive Maile trademark on it. Her personality couldn't help but radiate through everything she did. And what a personality!
When my wedding came around, I knew Miles was genuinely happy and excited for me, but I wasn't sure that I would see her at my reception. Life is hectic, and I had always thought that on people's wedding days, they'd be too busy, too surrounded by people, too enveloped in their own happiness to actually notice who actually came to the reception. I was wrong. I remember all the friends of mine who came. Seeing Maile there with Rosemary and KJ added that much more happiness and gratitude to an already-amazing day. I didn't realize how much it would mean to me to see who showed up that day, but it sure meant a lot. Once again, Maile left me feeling like a million bucks.
A year later, Maile and I went on to serve Spanish-speaking missions at the same time. I remember keeping my eyes peeled for Hermana Tua'one in the MTC and how excited I was when I saw her my second day.
Hers was the first familiar face I saw, and such a welcome one! Friends serving Spanish-speaking missions at the same time would normally seem like mere coincidence, except that Miles and I left on our missions almost three years later than most girls do. And our birthdays are just a day apart. And I mean our literal dates of birth. I always call Maile my "hermanita," or little sister, since I was born a day before her, to which she has always said, "C'mon! It's only one day!"
My hermanita Maile and I were pen pals for those next 18 months. I loved getting her letters. She always sent me a preparatory email to let me know a letter was on its way. And those letters were not your run-of-the-mill missionary letters with a play-by-play of lessons and investigators. But then Maile has never been run-of-the-mill. Her letters were little creative masterpieces. Nothing Maile did left her without the distinctive Maile trademark on it. Her personality couldn't help but radiate through everything she did. And what a personality!
When my wedding came around, I knew Miles was genuinely happy and excited for me, but I wasn't sure that I would see her at my reception. Life is hectic, and I had always thought that on people's wedding days, they'd be too busy, too surrounded by people, too enveloped in their own happiness to actually notice who actually came to the reception. I was wrong. I remember all the friends of mine who came. Seeing Maile there with Rosemary and KJ added that much more happiness and gratitude to an already-amazing day. I didn't realize how much it would mean to me to see who showed up that day, but it sure meant a lot. Once again, Maile left me feeling like a million bucks.
That was the last time I saw Maile. But Miles and I had longstanding plans, just like she did with so many of her family and friends. Miles was full of such goals and dreams. Our plan was to travel to Rome to attend the temple dedication together--Italian adventures plus an incredible spiritual experience. We won't make it to that dedication, but it makes me happy to think that she will be able to be spiritually present at the dedication when it happens next year. For now, I can picture her in her new home, walking around with a bounce in her step and that quintessential half smile she always wore on her face.
I'm sure going to miss my hermanita!
