The need for brave Mormons

Two months ago we moved into a new house.

The day after we arrived, our neighbors came over with a plate of cookies.

Our kids, fresh off a road trip through Utah, wore their BYU T-shirts. The neighbors looked at the shirts and said, "Oh, you're Mormon. We used to have another Mormon family on this street, the Larsons. We still get their Christmas cards."

Since that time, I have heard a great deal about the Larson family. Another neighbor said he and his son used to join them on Scout campouts. Their home was a gathering place for the neighbor kids.

Because of this remarkable family, we were ushered right into the neighborhood with open arms.

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