Sleeping Beauty Castle during the fireworks, framed by the Partners statue. Tripod + remote shutter, long exposure on the 14–24mm f/2.8G. Manual focus, no flash.
Why this fits Elder Holland
Elder Jeffrey R. Holland: “Don’t you quit. You keep walking. You keep trying. There is help and happiness ahead… Some blessings come soon, some come late… but they come.” Fireworks are a patience test. You compose in the dark, wait through false starts, and trust the next burst will fill the sky. That is discipleship in miniature: keep your place, stay steady, believe light is coming.
Pocket I’m keeping
When life feels like a long exposure with nothing on the sensor yet, don’t touch the tripod. Hold your ground. Keep praying, keep working, keep walking. The frame will fill.
BTS (how I made it)
Arrived early to anchor composition on Walt & Mickey leading to the castle and sky
Tripod low, remote shutter to avoid vibration; manual focus set before showtime
Long exposure to “draw” fans and heart-shapes in the air; no flash to keep ambient color
Wide at 14–18mm to include crowd, statue, castle, and sky in one story
Final reflection
Walt’s “dreams come true” meets Elder Holland’s “don’t you quit.” Courage starts the dream; covenant faith finishes it. Stay close to Christ and keep moving—light always finds the faithful.
Sleeping Beauty Castle after closing, colors breathing against a quiet walkway. Handheld patience, not luck.
Story I didn’t grow up thinking “bucket list.” I just liked being with my family and carrying a camera. During my consulting years we were blessed with no-blockout annual passes to Disneyland and Disney California Adventure. I only share that to explain why we have so many pictures there—and so many good memories. The park was our long walk after a long week.
I wasn’t chasing rides. Most nights I was chasing light. My kids and my wife did their favorites, and I did mine: “it’s a small world” for the melody I can’t shake and “Soarin’” for the way it makes your heart feel bigger than your chest. Between those two, I was usually off finding a quiet corner to photograph, waiting for the crowd to thin the way a tide pulls back.
We spent more than a few Christmas Eves at the Disneyland Hotel and Christmas Day in the park—again, not to show off, just to be together somewhere that made us smile. In other seasons, when I worked with an aerospace team and later in perinatal healthcare, our groups sometimes held Christmas parties at Disneyland. I’d still slip away for a few minutes, because the castle looks different every night, and the fireworks give you one more excuse to try again.
A lot of those photos are still on old memory cards from three cameras. I know—process them already. But there’s something honest about leaving a few dreams unwrapped. The parks taught me that: you don’t need a louder life; you need a longer patience.
Walt said, “All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.” For me, courage looked like staying five minutes longer, carrying a tripod when my back complained, and coming back when the last shot failed. It’s a small practice, after all—but small things add up.
If you see Disney or temple photos here, that’s what they’re made of: family time, a stubborn camera strap, and the quiet belief that good light rewards people who are kind and who stay.
Captured from Coronado Island on the 4th of July — a night of light, a heart full of gratitude, and a quiet prayer for the generations who will carry our name forward. Photo by Jet Mariano.
Intro: Every Fourth of July brings with it more than fireworks and flags—it brings reflection. For me and my family, this day is a reminder that freedom isn’t just an idea, it’s a reality we prayed for, waited for, and worked for. As an immigrant father and a lifelong believer in divine purpose, I wrote this for my children, as a quiet reminder of where we came from, what we’ve been given, and why I remain grateful for this land of promise.
Main Post: We are immigrants, you and I. We waited 15 long years before our U.S. visa was approved. And when we finally arrived, I didn’t start in a fancy office—I started by hauling office furniture off 30-wheelers in Burbank from 4 PM to midnight, earning $4.25 an hour.
Hard work was not an option—it was survival. But in this country, effort doesn’t go unnoticed. I went back to school, studied IT, and eventually earned a degree in Management in Telecommunications. No shortcuts, just faith, sweat, and purpose.
In the words of Paul H. Dunn:
“We are immigrants, you and I, because the Lord made immigrants of us and brought us here. We have done as well as could be expected, and are richly blessed despite our shortcomings because the Lord has thus far held us in His hands and worked His purposes, His ultimate purpose, through us. We’re wanderers, you and I.”
This nation welcomed me. And in return, I gave it my best. I built a career, provided for my family, and used my knowledge to bless others. Not as a way to boast—but as a testimony of what’s possible when freedom is honored and faith is kept.
President Thomas S. Monson once declared:
“When we safeguard the heavenly virtue of freedom, when we honor it, when we protect it, we will walk with Washington, we will pray with patriots, and we shall have peace on earth, good will to men.”
And as N. Eldon Tanner taught:
“We are all a part of America’s future. Our job is to learn and benefit from the past and to go forward in righteousness, keeping the commandments of God.”
My story is not unique—but it is deeply personal. I share it today not only as a celebration of America, but as an invitation to never take freedom for granted. To all those I love and care about: your future in this land is filled with promise—but always remember where we came from, and how far we’ve come.
This is the land of the free. This is the home of the brave. And I am forever grateful to be part of it.
