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Hi I'm Jenny

I'm a Mormon.

About Me

I am a senior citizen, married 60 years to a wonderful man. We have six children, 22 grandchildren, and 10 great-grandchildren.   I have always like gardening, both vegetables and beautiful flowers. I am not able to do it any more, but I still want too. My husband and I go to the temple often and I work as a Family History Consultant which I enjoy very much.   

Why I am a Mormon

I grew up on a farm or several farms. My dad was a share cropper and we moved around. He was a good, honest, and upright man, but had a habit of alcohol that turned him into a different person when he consumed it. We were a family of nine, me being the oldest child. He worked very hard, as did all of us, to provide a living. When I was about 12 years old, I began listening to preachers on our radio. They taught that we must be saved or we would go to hell. Hell sounded like a bad place. I asked dad to buy us a Bible, which he did. I read and read, and understood some of what I read. I really wanted to know the Lord and what he wanted me to do. I started praying, on my knees at my bed before going to bed. I always asked the Lord to help me to know what He wanted me to do and I would do it. My family thought my praying was funny and poked fun at me. They said I was "gettin' religion." So I prayed silently, with my head under the bed covers. But I did read and pray until about my sixteenth birthday. Through my dad's bad habit, the Lord answered my prayers and helped me to know what He wanted me to do. For lunch on a Sunday, I had cooked chicken and rice, which dad loved. But he liked it soupy. By the time he came home late in the evening, it was not soupy anymore. He came home drunk. So drunk that he could hardly walk. He could drive a vehicle even when he could not walk. He sat down at the table and began to eat. I was at the end of the table washing dishes. He started complaining about the rice being stiff, not soupy as he liked it. He wanted to know who cooked it. Mama told him that I cooked it, but that it was soupy at lunch time when he should have been home to eat it. He sat there and grumbled and complained, getting more and more angry. Looking at me with his bloodshot eyes, he said, "I ought to kill you for making my rice like this." After a while of saying that, he said, "I think I will kill you." He started getting up to get his 12 gauge shotgun, which always hung over the door in a rack, loaded. Well, needless to say, I made tracks out of there and ran down the road to a neighbors house, but I did not get to the neighbors house before he was on the road with his truck. I had to go into a field that had grown up in briers and weeds, much taller than I was. I sat there in that brier patch, while he went up and down the road, stopping at neighbors homes and asking if I was there. While sitting there, the Holy Ghost came to me as strong as it ever has in the 61 years I have been a member of the Church and told me I must leave home. I was not to go back home that night. I was to go and live with my grandparents, my dad's parents. Daddy had come home drunk many times and threatened us with a belt or switch, never with a gun. We would run away from him and hide. When he went to sleep, we would come back and go to sleep too. When he woke up, he was our good daddy again. But this time, I followed the promptings of the Holy Ghost and walked three or four miles to the home of my aunt and uncle, mama's sister. They wanted me to stay there and live with them, but I knew I had to go to my grandparent's. From there, I was taken to my grandparent's home. This is where the missionaries were meeting every week in what was called, cottage meetings and had been meeting there for about a year. They were meeting with two cousins, grandmother, and my uncle. Grandpa was bed ridden and cared for like a baby by my uncle, he had had several strokes. The missionaries were delighted to have a new person to teach, even a 16 year old. Me being new, they made me the center of attention. I had never been given much attention so it went to my head. The words they were teaching just rolled off my brain like water off a duck's back. I thought I was being grown up and smart when I told them after two or three weeks, "if they were coming just for my benefit, they might as well not come anymore because I did not believe Joseph Smith was a prophet." I have thanked the Lord almost daily since I was converted that they were not coming just for me because they continued to come and gave attention to everyone pretty equally. Then I began to listen and became interested. We had a wood or coal heater to heat the house and we sat around this heater. I sat with this heater between me and the missionaries so that they could not see what I was doing.  I had a note pad. I would write down the scriptures they quoted and after they left I would not only read what they had quoted but just kept on reading and reading. Soon I just could not stand not to ask questions, and I did question after question. I followed the advise of Moroni 10.4 and knew immediately that all these young men were telling me was true. I knew without a doubt that Joseph Smith was a Prophet and that I had found the Lords True Church.  The cottage mettings went on about six months and they had not ask me to be baptized and I wanted to be baptized. So I ask them, "don't you ever ask people to be baptized into your church? The one that had been more out spoken said with a smirk and a mischief look in his eyes, "Oh! Do you want to be baptized?" Me and one of my cousins were the only ones baptized. My grandmother was very much converted to the gospel, but she was aged and did not understand about authority and did not understand why she needed to be baptized again and she used tobacco in the form of snuff and had used it all her life and did not understand how this had any thing to do with her being a member of the church. Read the rest of her story under PERSONAL STORIES.   

How I live my faith

I have lived the Gospel the very best I could since I joined the church at age 17. I have never looked back, the gospel has been and still is the greatest influence for good in my life, and brings me the greatest joy and happiness. My husband is the next best thing in my life. He and I were married seven months after I joined the church, in the same year. He was a third generation mormon. I have worked in about every calling a woman can hold in a ward and have grown so much from serving others. Family History has become the love of my life in my golden years. I now serve as a Family History Consultant and Love so much working with the Living and the Dead. My husband and I attend the Temple often. We have also served a two year mission and served 9 years as Temple Ordinance Workers.   My experience with my grandmother has inspired me to work long and hard with the dead because I do not want to pass into the world of spirits and have any of my kindred say, I cannot come where you are, you didn't do the work for me. I want everyone to have the opportunity to grow and advance in the gospel when they have been converted. I know that my grandmother fully understood the gospel when she got on the other side and knew that she had made a big mistake in not being baptized. It took ten years for her work to get done. I could not do it because I did not live anywhere near a temple. I did personally seal her to her parents 37 years after she was deceased.