Yesterday was Fast Sunday, and as is tradition, we enjoyed a great meeting of testimonies shared by members of the Church. At one point, Katherine asked me if she good go “talk.” I was really hesitant. She just turned four, she’s never borne her testimony, and I wasn’t sure what she would do or say. I figured I would have to help her, too. But we went.
As we sat on the first row of the choir benches waiting for her turn, she played with my little temple pin on the lapel of my suit. She seemed so distracted and unaware really of the mini-terrors flying through my mind. I had the standard images of the little kid screaming into the microphone, the unintelligible giggle fest. In truth, I had seen her play with the microphone before, and I was truly worried. I wondered what I would help her say, how I would control the situation if it came to that. And finally, much too soon, it was our turn.
We walked up to the podium, her hand in mine. I helped move the stool into position for her, and she eagerly jumped up to “talk.” And she did. She just started talking. I just sat back and listened….
“My name is Katherine. I love Jesus. He talks to my heart and makes me feel safe. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.”
No assistance, no encouragement, no coaching. Just testimony.
And then it was my turn…. How do you follow up a testimony like that? I simply said that that kind of faith is why Jesus loves the little children. And then I sat down.
There really wasn’t anything more to say.