Sweet Voices Behind Us

“Sweet Voices Behind Us,” Ensign, Oct. 1998, 59–60

Sweet Voices Behind Us

My husband’s job required him to work temporarily in Campbell River, a fishing resort town on Vancouver Island in Canada. To be nearer my husband, my five children and I decided to spend a few weeks that August camping outside Campbell River near the ocean.

Each day the ocean’s life brought excitement and new learning experiences to all of us. However, the night before we were to return home, my two-year-old daughter, Karina, became extremely ill. Because she suffered from a serious medical problem that required attentive care to keep her from contracting any viruses, I was deeply concerned and decided to take her to a hospital. Leaving my 11-year-old son to baby-sit, I took my small daughter to the car.

Karina was in considerable pain and cried for me to hold her, which I could not do. Tiffany, 10, came along to comfort Karina as best she could, but Karina continued to cry aloud and whimper as we rode. I ached to hold her and wished I wasn’t obligated to drive.

Feeling helpless to ease her pain, I started to sing her favorite song, “I Am a Child of God” (Children’s Songbook, 2), which she had learned during family home evening and in nursery class. Tiffany joined in, and we sang two verses. It seemed to take Karina’s mind off her suffering. Soon I stopped singing. In the ensuing silence I distinctly heard young voices coming from behind us sweetly singing the song.

I glanced at Tiffany. “Are you still singing?” I asked.

“Isn’t that you singing?” she replied.

Instinctively I reached for the radio, but it wasn’t on. I marveled that I was hearing voices—voices of children singing ever so sweetly! They sang three or four lines before fading away. It was then I noticed that Karina had stopped fussing and had fallen asleep. Long after the last of the sweet sounds faded, quiet reverence filled the car, and Tiffany and I sat quietly in awe of what we had experienced.

We finally reached the hospital, and Karina received the necessary treatment. The next morning we returned home, where her own pediatrician finished caring for her.

Throughout the entire ordeal of those several days, I felt an overwhelming gratitude to Heavenly Father for his tender concern for one of his little children. I was grateful that Tiffany had shared this experience with me, for we were both blessed with a deepening of our testimonies of Heavenly Father’s love and help for us in our difficulties and challenges, especially when we were seemingly all alone and at our limit.