1982
Mirthright
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“Mirthright,” Ensign, Jan. 1982, 43

Mirthright

It was our first taste of actually seeing and hearing general conference speakers. We were sharing a videotape relay of conference with a neighboring unit and our phase-one building was full. As the excitement mounted, I put in the first tape and sat back to enjoy conference. Suddenly the silence was broken by a young, shrill voice somewhere in the audience saying, “There, Mummy. I told you it was all right to watch TV on a Sunday!”

A Peter W. Scholes
Telford, England

Two-year-old Julie was describing the family’s re-enactment of the Nativity scene. “Jill was Mary, I was Joseph, Jared was the Baby Jesus, and daddy was the German shepherd.”

Mrs. Clyde F. Smith
Bountiful, Utah

Some months ago I was in the hospital with a combination of ailments that made my recovery doubtful. Relatives from far and near had gathered to express their concern. One, a seven-year-old grandson, asked his grandmother if his grandpa was going to die. When told that it was possible, he answered with evidence of strong faith: “That wouldn’t be so bad would it? He’ll get new teeth and be able to walk right through the wall!”

F. Weldon Bascom
Bloomington, Utah

The Young Women’s basketball team courteously offered to wait until the Relief Society team had selected their name. The women finally settled on “The Ginger Snaps”—at which point the youth promptly dubbed themselves “The Cookie Crumblers” and stomped their rivals soundly.

Elizabeth Petty Bentley
Baltimore, Maryland

Our three-and-a-half-year-old daughter had just learned a new finger play:

“Here is the chapel,

Here is the steeple;

Open the doors, and

Here are the people.”

She wanted to perform it for her great-grandpa, and so she began:

“Here is the chapel,

Here is the steeple …”

But when she opened the doors and looked at the people, she stopped. “Boy,” she mused, “this sure is a small ward.”

Laura Dutton
Burbank, California

While trying to discover where we live, our first grader’s teacher’s aide asked Blaine, “What ward do you live in?”

After thinking for a moment he replied, “I don’t know its name … but it’s the only true one.”

Wright Noel
Newdale, Idaho

Several months ago the Ensign published an article discussing how we can help our children in small ways prepare for missions. We thought one idea—“Try this new food; when you are on your mission, you will need to eat whatever you are offered”—was particularly useful and utilized it several times. We didn’t realize it was backfiring until the night our seven-year-old announced at dinner: “I’ll never be able to go on a mission. I hate too many things!”

Kay Hill
Orem, Utah

Attending the Seattle Temple open house was a marvelous experience for our family, even though we had to stand in the rain with our four small children and no umbrella. On our drive home, we were discussing the experience, each in turn describing the special feelings he or she had felt at the temple. Of all the comments, six-year-old Jonathan’s was perhaps the most simple and honest: “When I got inside the Temple,” he said, “I felt very dry.”

Susan Landerman
Moscow, Idaho

At a recent gathering at our house with some of our young grandchildren, we were showing a painted portrait of their grandmother who had died before they were born. The picture was placed upright on the floor, braced by a chair, and the children’s mother explained that grandmother had passed on—that she was on the other side, waiting for them.

Listening carefully to this explanation, little two-and-a-half-year-old Lori walked over to the picture, grasped it by the top, tilted it forward, and peeked over “on the other side.”

William D. Loveless
Salt Lake City, Utah

Photography by Jed A. Clark