The Heavens Parted and the Angels Sang

For me, it was love at first sight.

We had both signed up for a BYU study abroad program in Guatemala. In preparation for the program, we were required to take a culture class. The class was held in a conference room and all of the students were seated around a large table. We took turns introducing ourselves to the group. Jon was sitting across from me and I clearly remember those distinguishing brown eyes looking directly into mine as he stated his name. Though the class was held once a week for several weeks, we never spoke other than one brief hello as we passed one day on campus. My heart fluttered at his one word greeting.

It was the last day of April, a Sunday, when our group left SLC for Guatemala. We had the first of two layovers in San Francisco. I don’t remember exactly how long we were in that airport but I do know that from that time forward, my life would never be the same. It was there that Jon and I first met or as I always say, a little tongue-in-cheek, “When the heavens parted and the angels sang.” One of those “Saturday’s Warrior” kind of moments.

I was sitting on the floor with my back to the windows, passing the time with a crossword puzzle. Jon came and sat on the row of chairs in front of me and I couldn’t resist the desire to engage him conversation. I looked up and asked for his help with one of my crossword clues. With that, he sat beside me and we finished the crossword together.

“Do you want to go get a Coke?” I have never been a pop drinker but you’d better believe I enthusiastically accepted the invitation. As we sipped our sodas Jon suggested that I try to change my seat assignment so I could sit with him on the next flight. We were making our way to LA where we would then connect to Guatemala. I wasn’t able to make the change for the LA flight but once we were in the air en route to Guatemala, Jon came to me and said, “There’s an empty seat back by me.” How’s that for smooth? We spent the next five hours thoroughly enjoying one another’s company.

After a few days of sightseeing in Guatemala City, we boarded a bus to be taken to the remote countryside where our studies were to occur. Our group was going to be split between two small villages, about 45 minutes from one another. The professor walked up and down the aisle of the bus giving each student their village assignment. My stomach was in knots as I waited, sitting next to Jon, to be told where I would spend the next six weeks. I didn’t have a preference, I just wanted to go wherever Jon was going. Thankfully, we were assigned the same location. The rest, as they say, is history.

We were virtually inseparable, spending all possible moments together. Within a few weeks, the other students referred to us as “The Hatches.” Over the next month and a half I learned about his family and friends and he learned about mine. He discovered that Chicago was my kind of music and I learned of his affinity for Van Halen. I had the opportunity to see his nifty dance moves and I showed him back handspring or two. I never wore a stitch of make-up and used not an ounce of hair product during our stay. We only bathed once a week. We saw each other in the most rustic of circumstances. I got to see how easily he adapted to living in a third world country, his compassion for other people and the way he interacted with children. I’ll never forget the first time I heard him bear his testimony as he talked with the family I lived with.



Our time in Guatemala ended too soon and it was difficult to say goodbye. We had fallen in love. We were separated over the summer but our constant letters kept us connected until we both returned to school in the fall. We were married the following summer on June 7th, 1996. That was eleven years ago today.



I couldn’t be more blessed in this aspect of my life. Jon is my everything! He keeps me grounded and gives me a security that I cannot describe. I love him more every day. Every June 7th, and sometimes in between, I recall the day the heavens parted and the angels sang!