Final Draft –
Jaclyn Stephens , Chris Betts and Shawdee Snow all offered me critiques of similar nature. These include turning off the hyphenations and using two watercolor pictures instead of a photograph and a watercolor. Their comments also made me re-evaluate my graphic design element which was basically a squiggly shape. I redid it into triangles to show some more unity between elements, and convey the idea of being intertwined, like the two sides of the veil are. I also added paragraph breaks, as Chris reminded me that those were required.
Hands image (updated): http://elanandrafa.tumblr.com/post/128649282118/helping-hand-watercolor-painting
For this assignment, I picked a true story – edited, of course – for the main body text. I anticipate that it would fit closest to the New Era demographic as it is the story of a teenage girl and a spiritual realization she had one day. As far as the design itself, I haven’t decided which layout I will go with yet, but I suspect that will become more clear as I work on it the next several weeks. The images I found are great and I anticipate making changes based on those when the time comes.
Story: God’s Hands on Both Sides of the Veil (working title)
17-year-old Morgan Stilles had had an extremely long and frustrating day. Her classes seemed to drudge on for hours rather than the 50-minute blocks they had proclaimed to be. Sleep deprivation and a low balance on lunch money had put her in a pretty sour mood by the time she was released from AP English around 3:00pm that Spring Wednesday.
Morgan’s workout schedule had the middle of the week as her designated rest day, but her anxiety and pent up energy left her in desperate need of a run. It was only when she had changed into her running leggings and tennis shoes and made her way to the school cardio room that she realized the fitness center was closed to students on Wednesday afternoons. She turned away from the informing sign with a huff of frustration and the beginnings of blood boiling in her veins.
Due to unfortunate genetics, Morgan avidly avoided running outside since it had a tendency to rev up her asthma, but that consideration wasn’t enough to hold her back today. She had been jilted by the gym, but the great outdoors wouldn’t turn her away. She let her legs propel her out the backdoor nearest the basketball courts and set off running at an ambitious pace.
It wasn’t long before she was gasping for air, but she didn’t let that slow her pace. She needed this run. Needed to momentarily escape the pressure and stress that had plagued her like a shadow all day. Needed to tune in again to the Spirit that so regularly was felt in her day to day life. Morgan came to realize that she was running in one of the less-noteworthy parts of town, but whatever fear came with that was dispelled by the heat and the midday sun still high in the sky.
By the time she reached the cemetery, Morgan couldn’t go on any further without stopping to catch her breath. Instead of opting to walk around the brown-grassed plot of land covered in headstones, she started a slow walk down the dirt path that led right through the center of the resting place. Only a few other people meandered around the graves, too caught up in their own thoughts to notice Morgan and she was too exhausted and burnt to care about them. She soon reached an area with no one else around, and took an unexpected turn off the path and onto the hundred-year-old plots.
When her heart stopped pumping at a ferocious rate, she felt a strong spirit re-enter her heart and surround her. She recalled quotes from prophets she had heard about the thinness of the veil and the ever-presence of unseen loved ones. She began to read the names on the gravestones, wondering to herself about the men and women they once belonged to. It wasn’t long before she felt a powerful pressure to give her musings aloud. She started whispering about names and dates and lifetimes passed. She found herself bearing testimony to the many spirits she could feel around her of the truthfulness of the gospel and the goodness of God. She felt her own heart and mind lighten as she did so, once again endowed with the peace of the Holy Ghost.
The lesson Morgan learned that day is essential for all of us. In our limited sphere of sight and understanding, we often fail to see how our efforts can affect other people. In this instance, her proclaiming her testimony in the cemetery was not just healing and meaningful for her, but also for the spirit who were there to witness, just on the other side of the veil. Her experience helped her from that point on to remember that we as children of God are made to be instruments in the Lord’s hand for all kinds of work, both here on earth and beyond. We become qualified as we strive to keep his commandments, put ourselves out into the world – without becoming of the world – and open our mouths to those who are prepared to hear. Our efforts will result in miracles for ourselves, and the kindred we are allowed to touch.
I also haven’t quite solidified my image placement. I suspect the layout may change based on that, since I really love the images I found!