Bri Colorful

I was explaining to Grant about my Young Women leaders last night. As young women, I think we knew they weren’t perfect, yet we idolized them. They were only our leaders for a few years of our youth and yet we’ve each developed lasting relationships with them that continue on today.

As I reflected, I tried to understand where our intense love for them came from. Then I realized, we wrote them a song the week after they had been released. We wrote that song for them after they had spent one last weekend on the beach with us. I have a memory of Sister Ellis sitting behind me on the sand and wrapping her arms around my shoulder and telling me how special I was. I recall the evidence of hours of preparation in each lesson they taught us. I remember Sister Sprague sobbing as she passed out carved wooden angels unique to each girl’s personality as a parting gift. Through years of memories, I uncover encouraging notes left on my car, birthday notes and gifts long after their duty was fulfilled to us, and images of them praying, the importance they put on spiritual things, and hearing their testimonies.

Because I KNEW of their love, spoken and unspoken, in every action I WANTED to be who they wanted me to be. I wanted to be better. And because I knew they loved me, I loved them. . . so much, and I still do. Their influence over my youth is second only to my own mother’s. I still try to live like they did. I still aspire to be the kind of woman that they each were and still are. Their love was their power and their gift.

I think it is impossible to harbor angry feelings for someone who is serving you out of love. . . who manifests their love in word and deed, sincerely and whole-heartedly. You can see that love shining in their eyes. It is impossible not to see it. I saw it in my leader’s faces as a youth, my parent’s eyes as I matured each day, and I see a similar but brighter light in my husband’s eyes today. Today it is not only a light of pure love but of belonging.