I had a friend named Sally. Just knowing Sally was around made me feel safe. She was a hugger, a smiler and she liked to call everyone “Dearie.” I have known Sally since I was three years old. Sally and her husband were permanent fixtures our ward’s Primary where they delighted in the enthusiasm of youth. After Primary, Sally would seek out the parents of the children and tell them about the smart answers they gave during sharing time or about the funny way their child sang a particular primary song. From Sally’s perspective, every child was a genius or a comedian. Every child was worth getting to know and like.
Several weeks ago, Sally was teaching Primary as she has for decades. After church she spoke to several people in the hall about her excitement that her oldest grandchild had received his mission call. Minutes after arriving home from church she suffered a massive heart attack and passed away.
I was devastated. Shocked. Upset. Sad.