'Obvious delight' — Members share love, talents
E-mail story
It's easy. Send a link to the story you were just reading to a friend. Just fill out the form on this page and we'll send it along.
Your name and e-mail address are transmitted to the recipient. Otherwise, it is considered private information; see Privacy policy.
PLEASANT GROVE, UTAH
Outside, snowflakes dance in the air on an ordinary winter day in Utah. But inside, in a room with big windows and lots of light, something remarkable is about to happen.
Carol Harding, a professional artist, places a pencil taped to a paint brush in Orin Voorheis' fingers. A lightweight easel on a Styrofoam platform sits on his lap, secured to the sides of his wheelchair with strips of nylons. "We're going to paint from here to here," the artist explains, showing him the beginning and ending points on a watercolor he's working on. A couple of paper towels stand next to the paints on the high table next to them, ready to catch any runs.
With a brush replacing the pencil, she lifts his elbow and, without touching the painting, helps him "practice" the stroke he's going to make. When she's sure he understands how it feels, she says, "Now go!" and he imitates the movement himself. Soon skin tones and hair take on shadings as the portrait of a senior missionary couple gains a little more life.
Brother Voorheis, 32, makes the decisions on all the paintings, says Sister Harding, a ward member who comes once a week to help him work on his art. He chooses the subject, the colors, the matting and framing. She mixes the paints and picks up the brushes, but the actual strokes are his. "I wish other people could feel what's in his arm," she said. Brother Voorheis is learning to sign colors with his right hand, and blinks once for "no" and twice for "yes." Plus, "We communicate very well with his eyebrows," Sister Harding said with a laugh.
The faces in the painting are those of his parents, Wayne and Florence Voorheis, who were devastated when their missionary son — the seventh of nine children — was shot in the head nearly 12 years ago. Orin Voorheis was almost halfway through his two years in the Argentina Buenos Aires South Mission in April 1997 when he was critically wounded in a street robbery and not expected to live. A private jet brought the young elder back to Utah, where he remained in a coma for months, then gradually gained consciousness at a transitional care center. He would remain paralyzed and unable to speak.
He continued to serve as a missionary as local Church members continued to serve him. Members of their Timpanogos 1st Ward, along with other friends, helped build an addition to his parents' home so he could live there. Pleasant Grove Utah Timpanogos Stake members continue to sign up regularly to help care for the 6-foot 5-inch quadriplegic — a task that would be impossible for Chartina, his petite wife, to do alone.
Chartina Jarrett, a returned missionary from the Russia St. Petersburg Mission, was one of many BYU student volunteers who helped care for Orin. After they'd known each other 5½ years and he was finally released from his mission, they married in a ceremony in the Manti Utah Temple on a snowy day after Christmas 2002. They continue to live in his parents' home.
Since signing "JOB" four years ago, Orin has worked several hours a week at Deseret Industries in American Fork, where he sits near the front door and uses a laptop computer with a voice to greet customers. He loves to give kids demos of his electric wheelchair, turning their stares into smiles.
His face shows obvious delight when his wife explains to the reporter that the watercolor he's painting is for his parents, Elder Wayne and Sister Florence Voorheis, who have been serving in the Louisville Kentucky Mission since July 2008. They have been able to do that while Chartina takes a year's sabbatical from her job as a high school history and U.S. government teacher to work on a graduate degree as well as care for her husband. (They still attend football and basketball games at her school when he's feeling up to it.)
The downstairs addition with its own outside entrance was a gift from friends and neighbors who wanted to help Orin's parents keep him at home. The wheelchair-accessible kitchen — a gift from a benefactor — looks like most any other, including the large, handmade valentines sitting on the counter top. "Orin loves Chartina," they both say, inscribed with lettering that's a bit shaky but quite recognizable.
Although he enjoyed sketching, doing metal and glass etchings, and taking art classes in high school, he preferred physically challenging adventures. He still dreams of them and loves to show off a photo of him riding a 4-wheeler, sandwiched between his dad and a brother. But his watercolors are of more serene subjects, including flowers, a scene at nearby Cascade Springs, the Manti Utah Temple, and the Mount Timpanogos Utah Temple.
A large framed portrait of the Savior hangs on the wall. Noting that he usually clips a photograph to his easel as a reference while working but used nothing for this one, Sister Harding said, "This came out of what he thought the Savior would look like."
Brother Voorheis continues to exemplify the Savior as he fulfills his callings as a ward nursery worker and home teacher, side-by-side with his wife. Church members continue to serve him with their daily help.
