Lydia and Mike
In January 2021 I was visiting my Granny Cecilia’s grave. I walked past this older man and gave him a smile and said, “Hi”. He was visiting the grave of his wife of more than 60 years who had passed away in October 2020. I immediately felt to say, “You’ll see her again.” He immediately responded that he believed that too. I told him where I went to church. He said that he had attended a few times in another ward (Dundee 2nd) with his wife and young family—around 50 years previously. I was surprised how small the world felt.
We spoke at the freezing graveside for over an hour. I felt I couldn’t put into words the experience I had and how special it felt. It felt like a dream, and I even questioned if it had happened.
A couple of months later I was going on a drive on a Sunday afternoon. The main route was closed, the alternative leading me close to my Gran’s graveyard. So, I thought I would go up for a visit.
As I pulled into the cemetery, I saw a man getting into a car, so I sped up and parked right next to him. He got out and said, “Lydia McPhee!” We hugged and he told me that on the day we originally met, he thought he had met an angel—that’s what he was telling his friends and family. He had also questioned if the experience had really happened. On that day he had felt like life wasn’t worth living anymore; he wasn’t coping well with his wife’s death. But after seeing me, things started to change, and he had hope for the first time in years. While looking over the vista of Dundee, we spoke for over two hours in the sunshine.
Almost a year went by, and I hadn’t bumped into him, so I searched for him on Facebook and found him. Within an hour he had sent me a message. We arranged to meet the following Saturday. It was good to see him. We spoke for over four hours—time flew by. We said goodbye and agreed to keep in touch and to meet more often.
The next day I was at church. Sunday school had just finished when out of the corner of my eye I saw Mike. There he was in church! He told me that he had woken up that morning and felt he had to come. He said he tried ignoring the feeling but found himself getting his suit and shoes ready whilst telling himself he wasn’t going.
I introduced him to everyone that walked by; I could feel his excitement. When I went home that day, he called me and said that he was feeling uplifted, and that everything felt right for the first time in years. He said that he wanted to be taught by the missionaries.
Mike was baptised in January this year by my dad and has been confirmed a member and received the Aaronic Priesthood. My sister Rebekah and I were the witnesses.
I am so grateful to Heavenly Father for blessing me by being involved in helping Mike. Mike is now eagerly anticipating entering the temple to receive his ordinances and be sealed to his wife, family, and ancestors.