A Bridge to Somewhere

I know this will sound crazy but I am changing the theme of my blog. As I have been thinking over the last week about what to write next, my mind keeps going back to the idea of writing about being a member of the Church on the east coast. Now, I am not talking about writing from the perspective of someone who moved here as an adult who is trying to figure out how to get by until they move back home to the west. To my friends who are from the west, please don't take offense here. Both of my parents are from the west and many of my family are there - that's not a bad thing. I am just happy and proud to be here and don't feel a need to rush back there, even though all of my children were born there and part of my heart is there. I am not talking about giving my view as someone who is here on a mission for a few years or who came here to retire. I am talking about the experience of being born and raised here and sharing my thoughts on how I made it as a child and teenager, how my kids functioned as good and faithful members of the Church while being one of only a few members in their school. It has not been hard, it has been a blessing! So here is the first post of my new blog. I hope you like it!

I was born in Washington, D.C. on October 31, 1963 and grew up mainly in Silver Spring, Maryland. This was a wonderful place to grow up and I have the best memories of beautiful summer days playing in the woods and by the creek with my brothers, sisters and friends as well as chilly memories of winter time ice skating on the pond and sledding through the trees (dangerous!) At the time, I was the youngest of 4 children so everything my older siblings did required a tag-a-long. I'm not sure of how they felt about me, but I loved to be around them. There was one day though when my sister tagged along with me - and I was so glad.

I remember going to Primary with my sister Kathy and on this one particular day, she was my "Bridge to Somewhere." I loved to go into that beautiful, cavernous room with all the pictures of Jesus, the piano that looked like it needed to be played and the microphone that I was sure would be good for singing into. I don't remember ever getting to sing into that microphone or to play the piano in that room but I do recall giving my very first talk there. In this case, my sister Kathy was right by my side. She walked with me up to the podium to help me say the words of that talk. I was so nervous and literally thought I would faint. My talk was on baptism and since I had not yet been baptized myself, it seemed a hard thing to talk about.

Kathy probably does not remember this but she helped me in a way that no one else could have that day. She held my hand and whispered the words into my ear. I quietly spoke into the microphone - that was on but you might not have known it because I spoke so quietly - and gave my talk. As I was speaking I felt like I was getting sicker by the moment. I wanted to be done. I wanted to sit down and for it to be over with. But a calm came over me that I remember to this day. It was not a jolt and it was not a sudden feeling. It was a warmth and feeling of love that felt wonderful. Before I knew it, Kathy pulled gently on my hand and guided me to my chair. While we were walking back I thought, "I want to say more . . . I'm not done!" I don't remember much after that but I do believe that I felt the spirit that day - probably for the first time in my life. I felt so good deep down inside and even at the age of 6, I never wanted that feeling to end.

I'm so glad that Kathy was with me that day. What a wonderful help she was to me and an example to a tiny 6 year old who did not really want to talk but who also wanted to do what was right. I think she felt it too! I love you, Kathy!