Since being here we have had several opportunities to speak
and a couple of times I have been prompted to share my conversion story. When I
was a young child, my family was not members of the Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter-Day Saints. However, on Sundays
my parents often took us to the nearest church.
When I was around 8 years old, I can remember going to a Sunday School
class with several other children. I
enjoyed singing songs about Jesus, but when they taught us about God and Jesus
Christ I can remember being very confused.
They taught us that God was so large he could fill the universe and yet
he was so small he could dwell in our hearts. As most children are, I
understood things very literally. It
just didn’t make sense to me that someone could be so large and so small at the
same time. Or was God magic and would
change. I remember being taught that God
was a vengeful God and I learned to become afraid of him if I did something
wrong. When I was nine years old we lived in Greenville, South Carolina. One day two young men with dark pants, white
shirts and ties knocked on our door.
They told us they were missionaries from the Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter-Day Saints and they wanted to teach us about Christ’s church and His
gospel. My parents allowed them to come
in. For a few months they would come at
least once a week and teach us about the Church. As a nine year old I don’t remember much, but
I do remember them teaching us about God.
It was so different from what I had been taught before in other
churches. They taught us that God was a
kind, loving Heavenly Father who loved us and that I was His daughter and He
wanted us to come back home to live with Him.
They taught us that Jesus Christ loves us and died for us so we could go
back to live with Heavenly Father and Jesus. Even at nine years old, I can
remember how grateful I was to find out that our Heavenly Father was a real
Father that I could relate to. I am
thankful for that knowledge every day. My mother and I were baptized a few
months later. It took Dad a little
longer as he had to give up his smoking habit. I can remember vividly the
missionaries who baptized us, Elder Driggs and Elder Joseph. Remembering that Elder Driggs was from the
Phoenix, AZ area, we looked him up when we visited with Angie once. He came over to her home and it was a
delightful reunion after more than forty years.
I thought of Alma 17:2 when he met his brethren, the sons of Mosiah
after serving a mission to the Lamanites for fourteen years. “He rejoiced
exceedingly to see his brethren, and what added more to his joy, they were
still his brethren in the Lord.” I will
always remember Elder Driggs and Elder Joseph and they will always be “MY” missionaries
and I will be eternally grateful they served a mission and came to our home. Those of you have served missions and will
serve missions. You will always be
someone’s missionary. We have been
taught by President Shaw, our mission president, that all of the priesthood
holders and many of the young women accepted a call to serve in the pre-earth
life and that call needs to fulfilled and magnified. Rich and I are just now fulfilling that
calling and are so grateful to be here.
.JPG)
April 20, 2013 Moroni High School celebrated its 36th year. Many of the alumni came
and they participated in marching, dancing, and each group or graduating year
represented shared a table of food. It was a delight to see and most of it was
edible. 
These people can sing, dance, and eat for hours. After being
outside for four hours we decided to be done and came back to the house.
They celebrated with a dance for the older alumni on Fri. night and a dance for
the younger alumni (under 40) on Sat. night. We were planning on going to the
dance on Fri. night but the music is sooooooo loud and crazy it hurts our ears.
Because we live right in the middle of this small campus, we often go to bed at
night with loud music blaring from the tennis court or cultural hall.
However, I love it when they are singing their cultural songs or church
songs. 
.JPG)
