Last spring Mom and Dad went into town for a little while. Since I had turned twelve, they let me baby-sit my two younger sisters and baby brother. Everything went fine, but when they got home, Mom was feeling sick.
That night there was a stake Young Women and mothers’ dinner and the General Young Women Meeting broadcast from Salt Lake City. I really wanted to go to it, but with Mom’s being sick, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to.
Mom lay down to rest for an hour. After she got up, we dyed some Easter eggs, and then she told me to get ready to go to the meeting. She said I could wear my new Easter dress. She still wasn’t feeling great, but we were going!
At the church, we ate a really good dinner of lasagna and salad, with brownies for dessert. After dinner, Mom said that she had a bad headache, but we went into the chapel with everyone else to watch the broadcast. During the broadcast she started to get really sick and told me that she needed to go home. She asked me if I wanted to stay and see all of the meeting, saying that I could get a ride home with a friend. I said, “Yes.” But I got a feeling inside me, and a voice said, “Go home with your mom, or she will crash.” Another voice said, “Don’t go—she’ll be fine.” I couldn’t decide which voice to listen to.
Mom sat there a few more minutes, then again said that she was going home and asked if I wanted to stay or go with her. The first voice came again: “Go home with your mom.” This time I listened to it and went with her.
As we left the church, I could see that my mom was getting worse and was very sick. On the highway going home, she could barely drive and told me, “Talk to me, Kendra, and tell me that we are going to get home.” I talked and talked and kept reassuring her that we would get home. We did.
I made the right choice to get us home safely. My dad helped my mom into bed; then we had family prayer and thanked Heavenly Father for getting us home safely and asked Him to help Mom get better.
That night I had a bad dream. I dreamed that if I had not gone home with Mom, she would have been hurt in a wreck.
I’m grateful for the gift of the Holy Ghost and that I was faithful enough to listen to His promptings to go home with Mom.
My Body Is a Temple
Some friends of mine were starting clubs at school. One girl in my class came up to my desk during class and whispered, “Lacey, if you want to be in my club, come and meet me at recess.” When the bell rang for recess, I ran out to find her. I was excited to be in her club.
After waiting for some more girls to get there, she said, “OK, now, to be in my club, you have to write on your hands and arms with these markers.” Then she passed out markers to everyone. I got a feeling inside that this was wrong. In Primary I had learned that our bodies are temples of our spirits and that we should respect them. Drawing on them didn’t seem very respectful. I looked at my friend and said, “I’m sorry, but if I have to draw on myself, I don’t want to be in your club.”
I’m glad that the Holy Ghost helped me to make the right choice for me.