Activity and snack packets,
the inspired words of the servants of the Lord,
IHOP breakfast between Saturday sessions,
potluck and friends between Sunday sessions, and
What's not to love?
In conference the prophet told a heart wrenching story of a young mother widow displaced by the Russian army during World War II. She had to flee mid-winter with her four young children (all about the same age as my children) with extremely few possessions and food. Tragically the children one by one died until she, starved and broken, found refuge and then peace knowing that she could be reunited with her family because of Christ’s atonement, death, and resurrection.
It was a heartbreaking tale meant to illustrate that whatever our circumstance in this life, our Savior is there to uplift and succor us. He descended below all, knows our needs, and does not leave us comfortless. I sobbed through it and felt the spirit strongly.
Unfortunately, President Monson’s talk came at the end of the very long two hour session and my children had lost the ability to control their muscles. They twitched, spasmed, fought and whined through each heartrending death and burial, irritating me to such a point that I began threatening their lives. So there I sat bawling because it could’ve been my children who died and annoyed because my children were alive, and laughing hysterically over the paradox and because, obviously, I am one big nutter.