My granddaughter Sophia Cope was baptized Saturday morning.
Snow fell and icy wind howled around corners leaving large drifts blocking our way to the church.
Then as we turned into the parking lot, I took a deep breath.
All around me, the world was dressed in white. An old man was shoveling the walk for us.
Then I saw Sophia, dressed in white - eyes shining - run toward me with outstretched arms.
After hugs and pictures we gathered in the chapel.
I watched as loving family members filed into the large bench filled room and patiently waited for the service to begin.
Sophia asked me to give a talk about the Holy Ghost - a gift to me - for I'd had a week to remember how the spirit comforts, directs, warms and enlightens.
As my son John placed his fingers and the piano keys and began to play, all those sitting in the chapel became reverent.
After songs, prayers and a talk, we gathered next to the baptismal font. Small children knelt close so they could see.
Sophia and her father, both stepped reverently into the warm waiting water.
"Having been commissioned by Jesus Christ I baptize you in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost."
Down into the water in a loving father's arms, then rising clean, pure and whole.
Later, a circle of priesthood holders placed their hands gently on her small head as the gift of the Holy Ghost was given.
I stand in awe at the majesty and simplicity of the gospel of Jesus Christ and the faith of an eight-year-old child.
Then back into the biting cold wind and snow covered world for our ride home.
Without remembrance of our heavenly home, we too are in a season of white and waiting.
Someday, with the faith and obedience of a child, we too will return to our loving heavenly home.