Heavenly Father Loves Me

I think the walls were a pale green, at least that's what I remember.  I was only a little girl, maybe four or five years old, sitting in the choir seats with all the other Primary children at church one Sunday.  We were part of the program, but I don't remember being nervous or scared. 

In fact, I don't remember ever being really nervous when I participated at church, except when I accompanied the singing on the organ.  Then my fingers would get so sweaty they slipped all over the keyboard, and I never could find the right foot pedal to push.  But I was a grown woman by that time.  Talking in church seemed to come easy to me.

I suppose I inherited that from my mom.  She was a natural entertainer.  She acted in all the school and community plays, even being recognized for her performances in the newspaper when she married dad.  Because of this, mom was comfortable standing in front of an audience.  She was a councilor in the Primary when I was very little, and I can still remember her leading us in simple songs and finger plays.

Mom taught me how to give talks in Primary and Sunday School.  She would write my talk, but she never let me take the paper up to the podium.  Instead she helped me memorize the talk, then practice telling it to her over and over again, so I would speak clearly and slow. 

I remember the first talk I wrote for myself.  I had been asked to give a 2 1/2 minute talk in church.  I thought I was so clever when I stood and recited a poem I had learned as a little girl.

"When I was just a little girl, just so high,
My mommy used to spank me, and make me cry.
But now that I'm a bigger girl, mommy can't do it,
So daddy takes a two by four and goes right to it."

I don't remember how I tied that into a gospel principle, but I thought I had done a great job.  Looking back, I bet mom was mortified, but she never told me so.

The first time I remember being in a program in front of people, though, was that day so many years ago when I participated with the Primary in Sacrament Meeting.  I sat in my big, soft, choir chair, hopefully not squirming too much, and looked out over the sea of faces, anticipating the moment when we would stand and sing for all those people.  I was prepared, I was excited, and I was happy to be part of the program.  Then it was our turn, so we stood, and sang:

Whenever I hear the song of a bird or look at the blue blue sky.
Whenever I feel the rain on my face or the wind as it rushes by.
Whenever I touch a velvet rose or walk by a lilac tree
I'm glad that I live in this beautiful world, Heavenly Father created for me.

He gave me my eyes that I might see The color of butterfly wings.
He gave my my ears that I might hear the magical sound of things.
He gave me my life, my mind, my heart, I thank him reverently
For all his creations of which I'm a part, Yes I know Heavenly Father loves me.

My heart just swelled as I sang those last words, and I knew, I simply, positively, absolutely knew that they were true.  I knew that Heavenly Father loved me.  I'll never forget that moment, or that feeling.  It was my first knowledge that I had a testimony of Heavenly Father, and it is still my simple testimony.  I know Heavenly Father loves me.