Sunday Evening Memoir 04.23.2023 "Birth to Twelve Years Old"

 While pondering on how I could better share my history and testimony of the Gospel of Jesus Christ with my immediate family, I happened to be listening to a discussion on "Saints" web channel where one of the speakers talked about how he prepares a weekly message to share with his family and then sends it out electronically.  That's what I am going to attempt to do from now on, on a regular basis.  It is my hope that my grandchildren, as they grow older and are more able to read on their own, will find some value in these memoirs.

It will just be stories from my life, along with experiences that have been a spiritual strength to me along the way.

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I was born 18 Feb 1964 in Provo, Utah, as the fourth of six boys.  My earliest recollections were a family trip to Yellowstone when I was approximately 3-4 years old.  Just memories of a campsite and my Dad finding long pieces of fallen branches that he cleaned up and had them leaning against a large tree so the he could run over to grab them to throw at any black bears that wandered too close to the campground.

Some time after that in the spring of 1968 my Dad was hired by the UHP and we moved to Henefer, Utah, where we lived in a large house for about one month until we could get into a rental down in Coalville, which made it easier for my Dad to go down to the courthouse to pick up the UHP shuttle car for each shift and then drive himself to the Echo Port of Entry.  Within a year we were moved back to our home in Provo.  

Just after arriving back in Provo I started kindergarten at Sunset View Elementary.  

In March of 1972 I was baptized and confirmed a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  My friend in the neighborhood, Scott Smith, whose parents didn't participate in church activity, was baptized at the same service by Doug Halladay- another neighbor who was approximately 16 years of age.  Also, shortly after this I was able to go with my Mom, Dad and older brothers to the open-house of the newly construct Provo Temple.

My earliest recollection of experiencing the Gift of the Holy Ghost came within the next year, or so.  It was bedtime and I had decided that I should kneel and say a personal prayer.  I was asking for forgiveness of my then childhood sins when I suddenly felt as if something warm was poured over my head and then cascaded down through my body.  I have never forgotten that moment.  

But, as life progressed along, and as I found myself doing more and more with friends that were not perfect, I soon picked up a cussing habit that almost rivaled my Dad's own habit.  In 5th grade sometime near the Easter holiday, the Gideon's visited our class and offered each student a pocket sized copy of the New Testament that they wanted to give to us- with our parents permission.  I got the permission.  For a short time I kept that small book in my back pocket and would try to read from it from day to day.  Whenever I felt the urge to cuss I would tap my pocket with the book in it to remind me to try and do better.  Well, it lasted for a time and then soon went back to my old ways.  

When I turned 12 years old I received the Aaronic Priesthood, and was ordained to the office of Deacon under the hands of my Dad.  

(More next week)