The other day, I was looking for something in my closet. Underneath a pile of sweaters and sweat pants, I found this:

It's cute. (Do you want it, Janet?) I don't remember using it at all. In recent years, I have gone to a bigger purse so that I can cram a bunch of junk in there when I fly. I do remember, however, stories of people finding all kinds of money and exciting stuff in pockets of old purses, so I thought that before I put it in the box for Goodwill, I should check it out. It was empty--except for one zippered pocket that contained these:

I took them downstairs to Rene and he reminded me of what they are and we both had to smile. These keys are to the outside door and library of the church in Mt. Vernon.

We spent a lot of time in that building. Rene was the branch president twice and the bishop once. I was the RS President twice, played the piano/was the chorister in Primary for 10 years (sometimes both at the same time!) and either played the organ or was the ward chorister for most of the twenty years we lived there. There was a break when Emily played and the Zieglers lived there.

But most of my time there and my favorite and very best memories are of the 15 years I taught early morning seminary, almost all in that building. The young people I taught are adults now--I even briefly taught a second generation. Among those students are all six of my own children. I think I only taught two or three of them for all four years (my 15 years were broken up a few times) but driving to seminary and home again with them are very precious memories to me. There was a lot of driving practice on those trips, too.

My favorite memories include the awesome scripture mastery games we played, the breakfasts cooked by the bishoprics (and their wives!), putting our coats on and going outside to look at a comet followed by reading in the Book of Mormon that "all things denote that there is a God" and of the thrill when a light bulb went on in their heads and they suddenly understood. Over the years, I had as few as three students and as many as twelve. One year, I had seven boys, some of them pretty tough, and one beautiful, sweet girl. I loved that year! The singing was heavenly and I enjoyed seeing Jenny handle those boys with poise and aplomb. I remember standing in that warm, empty room before the students arrived and feeling the Savior's great love for them and for all they sacrificed to attend each day.

I'm still in touch, sort of, with many of those kids. Life is hard and many of them, including my own precious children, have struggled with some pretty tough things. Some of them are not active in the church. They have not always made good choices. But my certainty remains--the Lord loves them! They are very special, both to me and to Him. I can see His hand in their lives, even if they can't. I am so thankful to them, for the things I have learned from them over the years and for their friendship.