Nimarit

Naming a Nimarit

            As my mother lay in the bed of the Redlands Hospital with a brand new boy squealing in her arms, she and her husband pondered on what to name me.  They called in their two daughters to come see the baby that would soon be taking all the attention away from them.  They “ooh and awed” in sight of their new brother and started coming up with names for him.  But my parents never approved of any of them.  Instead, they asked my grandparents to go to the temple.  There my grandparents went to the priest and asked him to perform special prayers for their new grandson.  After the priest had finished the prayers, he took out the Holy book and flipped to a random page.  The first letter on the page was what the baby’s name would start with.  And the first letter on the page was “N. “ My grandparents rushed back to the hospital as fast as a bullet.  When they got there, they told my parents the letter that the name would start with.  My impatient parents started blurting out every name that came to their mind.  When my dad said “Nimarit,” my whole family stood in silence.  Finally, my mom started smiling and everybody knew we had hit the gold.  

            Although my name was made through a very thoughtful process, it wasn’t all that great in elementary school.  A kid that was always mad at me for schooling him in soccer started calling me “Nim-rat,” “Nim-brat,” and even “Nimrod” as I walked back after scoring a goal.  But when I made fun of his name to show him how it felt, he stopped the name-calling.  Also, whenever I get a new teacher or a substitute and they take roll aloud, they usually pronounce my name incorrectly.  But nobody I know has the same name as me, and that’s what makes my name unique.

            All in all, I think that my name is very interesting and distinctive.  With only one Nimarit in the region, I never get mixed up with anyone else.