Our seven-year-old son excitedly told us of a new family in our ward. He explained, “And the father used to be the bishop of a tree.” That stumped me until I learned that he had, in fact, been a branch president.

Eva Lee Larson Kalispell, Montana

One summer, when I was on one of my diets, I found that my husband had taped the following encouragement on the refrigerator door: “Repent ye, repent ye! That all may be lost!”

Cynthia Brown Stevens Sunset, Utah

When my son was six, the stake Relief Society presidency asked if I would accompany the singing mothers’ chorus in stake conference on the song, “To a Child.” Knowing that stage fright always took over when I accompanied in public, I practiced relentlessly for three weeks.

One morning as I was taking my son to school, I started in again to sing, “Do you know who you are, little child of mine?” He responded, “Yes, I’m your son, Kanevin Berlin.” At that point, I figured I had practiced enough.

Loreen Berlin Garden Grove, California

In an effort to persuade my nephew, Donivon, to wear a suit to Church, his parents bought him a new one and set it out Christmas morning with a picture of President Kimball dressed in his suit. Donivon was very proud of his suit. He said it was “just like President Kimball’s.”

A few weeks later I told my own seven-year-old, Mitchell, that we were going to the LDS bookstore. I asked if there was anything he wanted. “Yes,” he said. “I want a picture of President Kimball for my bedroom.” As he turned to walk away he added, “Oh, and if they have any of those Kimball suits, you can get me one of those, too!”

Kathleen Roberts Carey, Idaho

My class of five-year-olds had been studying about Adam and Eve. I asked the children to draw a picture of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. When we shared our pictures with the class, I was surprised to find that one little girl had drawn a beautiful picture of Adam and Eve in the “garden”—a row of corn, a row of lettuce, a row of tomatoes …

Lucinda Hill Provo, Utah

I do not claim to have a singing voice, but I had never realized how bad it was until last weekend. We had taken our three sons to a baseball game along with the priests and teachers quorums. The game had ended rather late, and my sons were reluctant to get up the next morning for Church. When repeated shakings and proddings failed to wake them, I began to sing a familiar hymn. After a few seconds, my four-year-old lifted his head, fixed me with a bleary eye, and said, “Stop, Daddy—you’re scaring my ears!”

Ron Dalby West Jordan, Utah

One day as our five-year-old daughter, Heather, was making a church and steeple with her hands, she began giggling to herself. She started over: “Here is the church, and here is the steeple. Open the doors and there’s only one people—the rest are all late!”

Leah B. Hawks Napa, California

In my beginning band class one day, I was just about to explain that D.C. al Fine means to go back to the beginning of the piece and play until you reach Fine, when a young saxophonist asked, “What does Doctrine and Covenants al Fine mean?”

Gerald Lobrot Salt Lake City, Utah

Our eight-year-old son, David, received a new Book of Mormon from his grandfather, complete with a red marking pencil and instructions on how to underline the most significant scriptures. After reading chapter one of 1 Nephi, David proudly announced, “I thought it was so good I underlined the whole chapter.”

Dixie M. Lyman Aurora, Colorado

I was interviewing several people for a position as a dental assistant in my office when I was faced with a difficult choice between two well-qualified applicants. I decided to call one applicant’s previous employer to ask about her qualifications. On the way to my private office to make the call, I told one of my employees, “This is a tough decision—I’ll have to pray about this one”—meaning the decision about whom to hire. Then I closed my office door and dialed the former employer’s number, but no one answered.

After a few minutes I heard a soft knock on my door. Opening the door slowly, my employee asked reverently, “Well, did you get an answer?”

Thinking of my phone call, I responded, “No, he wasn’t in.”

Her eyes opened wide as she replied, “I think we are all in big trouble!”

Allan R. Papworth Salem, Oregon

[illustration] Illustrated by Lapine/Overy