When RB and I were first married, we lived in a small townhouse in Provo, Utah. Looking back, the place was a dream come true. It had a pretty blue door with a brass handle and matching kick plate. White popcorn trees bloomed every Spring in a line down our street. We had a great covered parking spot. And best of all we had a great church ward.
Although we frequently attended church, during our college years we didn’t participate much in extra ward activities. It wasn’t until much later that I got my calling as a primary teacher. So between, full-time school, work, and sitting in the back of the cultural hall during sacrament meeting, we didn’t know a lot of people in our great ward. And that is why I never met the Youngs or their daughter Holland in person.
I do, however, remember vividly the day when I found out she had passed away.