Friday, February 25, 2005

The Bishop's Daughter

When dooce does her "in the name of the Heavenly Father forever and ever amen" (or some variant), I have flashbacks to the days when I was a Mormon. That's a whole other story. The thing I most vividly remember about those days is Heidi, the bishop's daughter. They were such a nice family, actually. Very blond and blue-eyed. Very righteous and surprisingly accepting of someone like me, who was the opposite of righteous. I think the words I'm looking for are "totally hellbound."

Anyway, there were a lot of righteous girls in the church and most of them avoided me, lest they learn that not listening to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir was a much more fun way to spend Sundays. Heidi and I weren't best pals, but she was always nice to me. And now I realize it was because she was so secure in her faith that she knew in her heart that the path she was on was the right one for her and no amount of slumber parties with me, in which I cajoled all the goody-goodies into TPing the neighbors' houses, were going to lead her astray. I can respect that.

But that's not what I really remember most about Heidi, unfortunately. What I remember most vividly is that about four times a year, she would get up in front of the congregation for reasons I don't remember, and testify her faith. She'd tell stories meant to inspire the rest of us. And each and every time, she'd end her testimony by professing her love for the Lord. "I believe in the Lord, Jesus Christ..." OK, OK. "And..." here is where it would always go awry "...I know...my..." (sobs) "...Heavenly Father loves meee." The "me" always came out as more of a honk, because at this point, she would be in hysterics. She became so legendary for it, that whenever my mom, brother and I saw her going up to speak, we'd start laying bets on what word she'd make it to before breaking down.

The totally hellbound apple doesn't fall far from the totally hellbound tree, does it?