I have one daughter who is walking around today saying she doesn’t want to go to church.
What is it about church you don’t want to go to? I ask her. Is it Young Women’s? No, Young Women’s is fine, she says in her most bored voice. Is it Sunday School? I ask, trying to be patient. No, Sunday school is fine, she says, sounding even boarder, if that were possible. Sacrament Meeting? I ask. What could be wrong with Sacrament meeting? Is there something special happening in Sacrament Meeting that you especially don’t like?
The truth finally comes out. “The Young Women are SINGING in sacrament meeting.”
That’s it? Singing? By the way she said it, you would have thought she was saying that all young women would be giving blood, or standing up there in their underwear. Singing? How could singing be so bad?
Contrast that with her sister, who for the past month has been attending a two hour rehearsal every Sunday to prepare to sing in the Young Women’s general broadcast this Saturday. We’ve had to buy her a special outfit in the colors they require, and yesterday she went with the other young women of our stake to the conference center for a dress rehearsal. She is so excited about this, and comes home from each rehearsal just glowing. It’s been such a marvelous experience for her. Each week someone from the general young women’s board is there and speaks to them, so it’s like a fireside with singing. And their conductor is amazing. I know Sister Webb from way back at Brighton High, where she was a student teacher for our choir class. I don’t remember which year that was, but we all loved her energy and excitement. Later, as a freshman at BYU, I enrolled in University Chorale, and who was the instructor? Merrilee Webb. So I was excited for my daughter to have this amazing experience of learning from her, and singing in the conference center.
These two opposite girls are both my daughters.
They don’t often agree, and they don’t always get along. It’s hard to believe they are sisters. But I love them both, even in their differences.
(Actually, I love ALL of my daughters, (and my sons, of course) even the one who doesn’t really belong to me–I can still claim her as my daughter this year–though I am only addressing those two right now.)