08 April 2010

You Are My Friend and I Love You

My first memory of Mary is of the Sunday she sang a song called "I Lived in Heaven" for the Primary children. I don't know how old I was, but I was not yet twelve. I can still recall her lovely voice and angelic face whenever I hear the words:

"I lived in Heaven a long time ago, it is true
Lived there and loved there with people I know, so did you!"

I joined my church choir when I was twelve and Mary was there every week. She went out of her way to be kind to me, even though I was just an annoying freckle-faced kid. Everyone loved Mary. When our Young Women church group chose widows from our area to adopt as "secret grandmothers," many of the girls requested to do secret service for Mary. Smiling often, she radiated joy and love for everyone around her.

Often members of our church go on missions after they retire. Most of them go with their spouses if they have one, but she went with her sister as her companion. I thought it was sweet that they had the chance to do that together. I wrote letters to Mary, knowing that missionaries enjoy letters from home, but her letters to me blessed me more than she probably ever realized.

In one of my letters to her, I had shared some of my teenage gripes about my mother. The letter she wrote in answer CHANGED MY LIFE. She wrote it two days before I turned fifteen--words that were exactly what I needed to hear.

I will summarize part of the letter and fill in with direct quotes. After a greeting, she said, calling me by name, "You are in control of your life." Then she told me of the suffering she had witnessed among the poor in California where she served. She reminded me of all that I had to be grateful for. She spoke of her love for my mother and said she would pray for her every day and asked me to do the same. She said, "She has her choice the same as you do. So you have to let her have that choice & not get angry because she chooses different than you would like her to. Just remember: She is responsible for herself--& you are responsible for you. You make your life what you want it to be." Then she shared her advice for how I could make my life better. She bore testimony of the Savior and said, "He came down to earth and died to show us how to live. He gave His life--Do you think it is important?...I hope we don't ever forget what He did for me & you & everybody."

She closed the letter sincerely, "You are my friend & I love you." As the tears rolled down my face, I knew that she meant it. She, being so wise and graceful and beautiful thought of me as a friend, an imprudent whiny teenager. After the day I read that letter, I stopped fighting with my mom because my heart and perspective had changed completely. I not only learned how to honor my mother, but I realized that I was responsible for my own happiness.

After her eighteen-month mission, Mary returned home and resumed singing in the choir. Not long later, I heard that she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, with not much time left to live. I remember everything about the night I went with the choir to her house. We stood on her front porch and sang to her, "God Be With You Till We Meet Again*," knowing the words were more for us than they were for her. I think she cried, but I couldn't see past the tears in my eyes.

She left this life at the age of seventy-two. I wonder how many people were touched by her the way I was.

Heaven must be so happy to have her!




*If you would like to read the lyrics,
click on "more info" (or the down arrows)
in the box with the contributor's name.