Several years ago, before the days of regional activities in the Church, my sister, Cris, was dating a nonmember. As he came to pick her up and noted the rest of us rushing to our various activities, he was impressed but confused.
“Got to get to basketball practice,” said Rick. “If we win the next two games, we’ll be the champs, and we’ll go to Salt Lake for the playoffs!”
Elaine was practicing a number for the Young Artists Festival, and hoped to be chosen to represent the stake in the all-Church festival in Salt Lake.
I was part of the “All Girls Dance” and our group naturally wanted to win so we could go to Salt Lake to dance in the all-Church festival.
Then one night our father walked in on Cris and her date as they were kissing goodnight.
Randy was ready for him. “Don’t be alarmed, sir!” he said. “We’re just practicing, and if we get good enough, we’ll go to Salt Lake!”
Karren Richeson Burlington, Washington
One day my friend, a teacher, was talking with her students about teeth. As she explained about primary and secondary teeth, she noticed that one little boy wasn’t listening. She asked him, “Dave, how many primary teeth do you have?”
After a long pause, Dave said, “Miss Finch, I don’t have any primary teeth. I’m a Catholic, not a Mormon.”
Patricia Durrant Williamsport, Pennsylvania
My wife, suffering with a head cold, said, “I have a ‘tabernacle headache’—you can drop a pin and my head vibrates.”
Terry Kluse Dallas, Texas
Our grandson, age 3 1/2, recently came to visit us. I had been reading the family home evening manual and had left it lying on the couch. Nathan walked into the room, saw the book, and picked it up. He flipped through the pages quickly, slammed it shut, then announced, “Now it’s time for the pie!”
Ann P. Lloyd Logan, Utah
“The last one to wash is a rotten egg!” is a favorite saying at our home. One evening as we gathered for evening meal, someone yelled, “The last one to wash is a rotten egg!” It was a tie and so we decided that since Daddy was working late, he was last. I explained that because Daddy was working to provide for us, he was not really a “rotten egg” and called on our three-year-old son, who was just beginning to pray, to ask the blessing. He blessed the food and everything else he could think of, then quickly added, “Bless our daddy at work; he’s a good egg!”
Venna Buttars Salt Lake City, Utah
Our three-year-old daughter’s favorite song is “Book of Mormon Stories,” with special emphasis on the last word, “righteously.” Thinking this a good sign of her spiritual progress, I asked her what righteously meant. She replied, “It means it’s the end of the song.”
Janet F. Peterson Salt Lake City, Utah
Recently I received a check from the Church that I immediately presented for deposit at a local bank. The teller looked at the check, looked at me with an expression of disbelief, and said, “You’re putting me on!”
“Why is that?” I asked.
Joseph L. Smith Salt Lake City, Utah
Our daughter, Margot, was substituting for the Sunday School chorister when she heard the Sunday School president announce, “We will now have a two-and-a-half minute talk by Margot Seymour.” Very embarrassed, she replied, “Oh, I’m sorry, Brother Jones. I had some reports to write and tests to study for. I was so busy I forgot all about it.”
Brother Jones accepted her apology and announced that we would have the “Worship through Music” service. Margot stood up and said, “Please turn to hymn number 71, ‘I Have Work Enough to Do.’”
Helen Seymour Stockton, California
Just after the sacrament hymn had been sung, the branch president’s six-year-old son began to walk to the front of the small chapel to give the sacrament gem. His three-year-old sister jumped in front of him and zoomed to the podium. A little startled the brother ran up, grabbed his sister, dragged her to one side, and shoved her into a chair. Returning to his spot in front of the congregation, the boy proudly gave the verse he had carefully memorized: “Except ye … become as little children. …” (Matt. 18:3.)
Elder Rick Collins Argentina Cordoba Mission
My grandson and I have birthdays just one day apart, so we always do something to celebrate. Mark came to me the other day and asked, “Grandma, what are we going to do for our birthdays this year?”
I said, “Mark, we are just going to celebrate your birthday this year. I am going to be 70 and want to forget my birthday.”
He quickly retorted, “Don’t worry about that, Grandma; they made Daddy a seventy and he loves it.”
Mrs. Clifford Woodall Salt Lake City, Utah