I asked if the APB indicated that the bank robbers were disguised as a senior Mormon missionary couple with missionary badges and Utah license plates on their car. He just stared at us for several seconds in total silence. Then my wife (being the good missionary that she is) said, "Sir, would you like a free video about the real meaning of Easter?" After staring at us in total silence for several more seconds, he just walked back to his patrol car and drove away. Apparently we were no longer considered suspects.
Larry Humpherys, Harrisville
Hooked on family history
A recent widow found her way into the family history center where I worked. After I reassured her she was welcome — that she didn't need to be a member and there was no cost — she became an avid student. She was a good typist and a quick study. On the third day, with her fingers flying over the keyboard, I heard her talking to herself. "What did you say?" I asked. She raised her voice and repeated, "I'm certainly glad my husband is dead!"
"Why?" was all I could say.
"Because," she replied, "if he knew how much time I was spending here, he'd kill me."
Kay Lack, Redding, Calif.
My 6-year-old learned about the Iron Rod in Primary. He's a technically minded guy, and after thinking about it all afternoon, he announced at dinner, "In a thunderstorm, the Iron Rod would conduct electricity." So perhaps we ought to rethink that goal never to let go …
Lee Ann Setzer, Springville
Our son-in-law's great-uncle, a Pennsylvania Protestant, has a farm on a road that extends from the city through the suburbs into the country. All upset, he reported one day, "The Mormons bought some land down the road to build a church! They were real sneaky, though. They negotiated as The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints!"
U. Henry Gerlach, Champaign, Ill.
Thou shalt not ride?
My son Kenny was 4 in 1971 and went to preschool three days a week with several of his neighborhood friends. We mothers took turns carpooling the little boys, and Kenny was the last one to be picked up when I wasn't driving. Our neighbors were also Christians but not members of our church. One sunny Arizona morning as he climbed into the car driven by his best friend Matthew's mother, she explained, "Kenny, we have been talking about motorcycles on our way to pick you up." And then she posed the question, "Are you ever going to ride a motorcycle?" Kenny's response came quickly and ever so earnestly: "Oh no, Mrs. Stevenson! We are Mormons!"
Karin L. Ford, Chandler, Ariz.
We had recently moved from Oklahoma to Willamina, Ore., First Ward. While in Oklahoma my assignment was to prepare the ward bulletin each week. Many times information would come in at the last minute and preparation would be left until late Saturday evening. My mental acuity was not always at its best at that point, but I always got the job done — even if it was 1 a.m.
Once my new ward learned what my past assignment had been, I found myself again preparing our ward bulletin each week. I prided myself in making sure that it was as perfect as the information I had received. A computer with spell-checker was a big help.
One Sunday, we had come to the closing hymn in the service. I don't remember what the bishop said at the podium, but I remember that my eyes got big and I asked my wife if I could see the program. There it was, in black and white. The closing hymn: "We Thank Thee, O God, for a Profit"!
Richard Holliday, Terreton, Idaho
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