I love being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I joined back in 1964 after a long struggle with faith. I had loved the Savior ever since I could remember, but the church of my youth deserted me as it moved into the intellect movement of the 60's. Without spiritual guidance, I fell away. The Lord distinguished between the words of my mouth and the longing of my heart. He knew that I wanted to believe and so he sent a young woman who told me the story of the Restored Gospel. She bore her testimony of Jesus Christ and promised me that I could know for myself and have my own testimony.

Now forty-six years later I can only thank her from the bottom of my heart for introducing me to the church. Indeed I do have my own testimony. I know that Joseph Smith was a prophet, called to restore Christ's church to the earth. We have a prophet today who leads and guides us. I am so grateful for Latter-day scriptures that bear testimony of Jesus Christ. The Book of Mormon is the Word of God. It stands as another witness of the Savior and it's truths have touched my life in very personal ways.

I hope that my poetry reflects the growth of my testimony and my love for Jesus Christ.

The Magic Street

Childhood memories are not always accurate.  The child's eye sees beauty in the common.  The mind remembers what it felt as much as what it saw.  Bauman Street in Detroit is the magic place of my memory.  We walked it every day on the way to school.  That half mile of road was filled with so many memories.  We played "Step on a Crack, Break your mother's back" as we walked along.  The drugstore was off limits on the way to school but the grocery store wasn't.  The candy store was saved for special days.  I can see them all in my mind's eye.

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