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Hi I'm Barbara

I'm a Mormon.

About Me

I grew up in a kind of Heinz 57 family. My father was of Jewish ancestry with his father coming out of the Jewish persecuting Russia in the early 1900’s and his mother being adopted from an orphanage in New York. My mother had Methodists and Seventh Day Adventists on her side. So, we had Christmas trees and Santa Claus and the Jewish pre-meal prayer at holiday meals. (Blessed Art Thou, our Lord, our God, King of the Universe, who bringeth forth bread from the earth. Amen.) Even though I was never raised in a particular faith, I was taught to be kind, judge each person according to his character, and to follow the Golden Rule of treating others the way you want to be treated. I felt loved and secure in my home. I adored my parents and always thought my father (kind of a typical Jewish store-owner) was one of the finest men I ever knew or have known. I don’t think he ever met a man that he couldn’t find some good in. He was well-liked by everyone. My life was fairly typical and it seemed I would grow up, go to college, get married, have children and live in Peoria, Illinois with the rest of my family. That was the plan until Feb. 15, 1969.

Why I am a Mormon

A year after returning home from the Army, my brother's Army buddy passed through Peroria in February, 1969 on his way home to Salt Lake City. Yes, he was a Mormon…the first one I had ever met, or so I thought (I later learned that two of my classmates in high school who had moved to Peoria their junior year in high school were Mormons.) My brother told me that David was a Mormon, so I expected some stern fellow with dark hair and a beard. No, he was quite engaging and blond. We talked all night long, and when he left the next day, I was in tears. I felt like I was losing a part of myself. I felt like I knew him, but his name wasn’t “David”. Have you ever met someone who you felt you knew? I firmly believe that I knew David back when we were spirit children, before we came to earth to gain our bodies. I really believe that Heavenly Father planned for us to be together. Following his three years in the Army, David went on a mission to Japan. I went back to college at Western Illinois University and started my journey into learning everything I could learn about David’s faith. What he had shared with me about Mormon beliefs during that 19 hours he spent in Peoria had made so much sense. As a result, I was baptized on April 10, 1969, on my 20th birthday. As Robert Frost said, I took the “road” less traveled and that made all the difference. I finished another year at Western Illinois and then transferred to BYU. I wrote to David while he was on his mission, but the letters were platonic. However, I felt in my heart that I wanted to be around when he returned home in order to see if that “connection” I felt when I met him was real. He returned in May of 1971 and surprised me with a call and then a visit that night. He came to my apartment in Provo, and as I answered the door, with my roommates surrounding me in great curiosity, he reached out his hand for mine, and I knew. We were married on March 24, 1972 in the Salt Lake Temple.

How I live my faith

We have been married nearly 40 years, and I cannot think of any period of our marriage where we have not been happy. Of course, we have had the normal struggles that come with life, but together we have worked our way through them. We have always known peace and contentment within ourselves and our relationship to each other. When we recognize all the blessings Heavenly Father affords us each and every day, we cannot help but be grateful for the life we have. We also know that if we are faithful and put forth necessary effort on our part, whatever happens will be OK. We have raised three children who have become wonderful and responsible adults, and we have 10 grandchildren. My life has been so non-extraordinary, but yet, so extraordinary. I like normalcy and strive for it. Each day, I try to be a bit better than the day before, but I sometimes fail miserably at that. But, the sun comes up the next day, and I try again. I love my husband dearly and am so proud to be his wife. If the only thing that can be written on my tombstone (hopefully many years down the road) is that I was a good wife and a good mother, and a good friend, I can be happy with that. I like to run, ride my road bike with my husband, hike, spend lots of time with my husband, our children and grandchildren, and I am a Mormon.