Travis wasn't a bad kid. Not by a long shot. He was just creative. And bright. And charismatic. And impulsive. And strong-willed. And free-spirited.

Not bad traits, by any means. In fact, they're all pretty good characteristics to have. But lumped together in the personality of one tall, handsome, fun-loving 14-year-old, they can be ... well, scary.

Like the mid-winter night he and some of his buddies arrived at the church early so they could play a little basketball before Mutual. The 12th Ward Relief Society was already using the cultural hall to make quilts for babies in the local hospital's newborn intensive care unit, with fully loaded quilting frames occupying most of the basketball court. As you might expect, the sisters weren't especially pleased to be invaded by basketball-bouncing boys.

"What are you doing?" the homemaking leader asked when Travis peeked into the hall.

Travis smiled. "We were gonna play some ball," he said.

"Well, not here," the good sister replied, maybe just a little tersely. "We're not moving."

"But you could do that anywhere," Travis argued. "We'll even help you move your stuff."

"No!"

"Then when are you going to be finished?" Travis asked. "We'll come back then."

"It'll be too late," the sister said. "Now, get out of here before I call your parents!"

Travis led a hasty retreat into the hallway, where the boys gathered to reassess their options. At least, I'm assuming that's what they did. To tell you the truth, the story gets a little fuzzy at this point. All I know for sure is that the boys wanted to play basketball, the sisters weren't about to let them, and for some reason that I still don't completely understand, Travis decided that the time was right for a lunar eclipse.

That's right — he mooned the Relief Society. Right there in front of the baby blankets.

As you might expect, the incident created considerable controversy in the neighborhood. Some of the women in attendance wanted Travis' head — or other suitable body parts — served ceremoniously on a platter. Others who heard about it recommended legal action or, at the very least, excommunication. Even some who chuckled at the situation agreed that Travis was a troubled young man whose future prospects appeared dim. It was a difficult time for him and for those who continued to believe in the boy behind the moon.

Thankfully, those closest to Travis were willing to allow him to put the incident behind him — so to speak. His parents, bishop and Young Men leaders never lost faith in him. And it turned out that the very traits that made him a handful — you know, that creativity, intelligence, determination and propensity for free and focused thought — helped him graduate near the top of his high school class and saw him through a successful (and, I might add, moon-less) mission. The last time I talked to him he was an accomplished medical student working as a teaching assistant in a class called — are you ready for this? — "gross anatomy."