“The Heart and Mustard Seed,” Ensign, July 1992, 57–58
It had been a long time since I’d thought about her. I couldn’t even recall exactly which class she had taught in our ward. But today, over twenty years later, I was grateful she had been my teacher.
It was one of those days. I felt overwhelmed by my responsibilities at home and at church. Discouraged, I walked into my bedroom and noticed a jewelry box I’d received as a child.
Inside were rings, necklaces, pins, and other mementos from my childhood. “No time for sentimental journeys today,” I scolded myself. But the temptation was too great; I opened the box, carefully rummaging through its contents.
A heart-shaped pendant caught my eye. Instantly, I remembered where it had come from. Picking it up, I studied the tiny mustard seed encased inside the gold-rimmed crystal heart. Beneath the heart was a matching gold plaque with an inscription that read, “If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, nothing shall be impossible unto you.” (See Matt. 17:20.)
I remembered vividly the night she had given us the necklaces. It was the end of the year and time to move on to a new class and teacher. The necklaces, she told us, were just small tokens of remembrance. But to me, the tiny chain and heart represented much more—they were quiet reminders that I could be all I wanted if I believed in myself and had faith in the Lord.
As I thought about the lessons she had taught, I realized that I couldn’t recall any posters done neatly in calligraphy. I searched my memory, but I didn’t remember any audiovisual presentations either. Her lessons were not delivered with impressive eloquence or smooth teaching methods.
What I do remember is the warm feeling that enveloped me when I sat in her classroom. Tears fell down my cheeks now as I remembered her tears, falling unheeded as she shared stories from the lesson manual or bore her testimony. I recalled the stirring of the Spirit within my own heart as it bore witness to the truthfulness of the things she so genuinely taught.
I pictured six young women eagerly attending a cookout in her backyard. I heard her laughter and saw her smile as she accompanied the same giggling group to the movies. It was obvious that she enjoyed teaching us and being with us. Her expressions of unconditional love and concern made each one of us feel special.
Picking up the necklace, I felt again the warmth of her spirit. I wiped my tears as I looked at the inscription once more. “If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, nothing shall be impossible unto you.”
The day was beginning to look better already.