It was past her bedtime when she got home with her mother, but there was no way my sweetie pie of an eight-year-old was going to just go upstairs and go to bed. She was way too excited! She had just been to a little gathering at the church and was anxious to show me what they had given her to take home.
So, I’ll be honest. I was a lot surprised at the amount of enthusiasm she was showing. This was a church thing, and although she has fun with her friends at the activities, and in primary, enthusiasm isn’t what we usually expect out of her. Especially when it comes to church and school.
“Look dad,” she said with a beaming smile “a time capsule!” She plopped down on the couch beside me and while she struggled to pull the end off of a cardboard tube, her excited little voice never missed a beat. She talked about the bath salts this, and the letters that, and the temple, and mommy, and her friend Savannah, and… I was completely confused. At length she managed to get the capsule open and it all began making a little more sense. Albiet not much- yet.
I was delighted that she was so excited to share with me her experience. As she sat there snuggled up to me chatting away, I couldn’t help but feel a deep sence of contentment. I have liked being a daddy more than I thought was possible, and this was another one of those little gems of dadhood I knew I was going to cherish.
She finally satisfactorily explained that the bath salts were to remind her that being clean is important, and that you have to be clean to go to the temple. That the time capsule was to be kept ’till the day she would go to the temple, and she could re-read the letters that were inside any time she wanted, but especially on the day she goes to the temple for herself.
She had emptied the capsule while explaining everything to me and once she was finished, she asked me to read the letters to her. Two of the letters were from priesthood leaders here in the ward and stake and the other was from the ward primary president. Although the first two were well written and presented a beautiful message, it was the third that made the moment special. Hardly had I begun reading it when a surge of emotion came over me, and I had to stop mid word to hide my faltering voice– So it’s a funny thing that the spirit uses the same frequency to speak to us as our feelings do: through our emotions– Anyway, the love this sweet primary president has for the children was made manifest, and it is deeply appreciated.
Sometimes we have experiences we don’t understand and this was one of those for me. I knew this sister loved the primary children, so why did I need a confirmation of it? I may never know. Maybe occasionally, we just need little reminders that God knows and cares about us each individually.
I do know that the memory it created was priceless.