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Grandma’s Desk: A Mingled Artifact of Family and Church History

By Teresa Bruce

My grandmother’s secretary desk moved into my home last week. An heirloom of both classic and outdated beauty, its story has made me wonder for as long as I can recall. One of Grandma Leone’s beaux presented the fold-down desk to her as a gift in the early 1930s. When I learned this origin as …

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Your Calling Is To Be An Example

By Michelle Lehnardt

  I live in one of those rare wards where we have far too much talent, more willing members than callings; where sign-up sheets are filled before they reach the back rows. I realize this isn’t true for 99% of the church, but I promise what I have to say here will also apply to …

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The Long View

By Jessie Christensen

My children and I starting a new path in 2011. Photo by Katie Stirling
My children and I starting a new path in 2011. Photo by Katie Stirling

 

Last year I took a full-time job at the university where I completed my undergraduate and graduate degrees. After several years away, being back where I spent so much time in my past has been both a wonderful and strange experience. The campus is a palimpsest, with layers of time and memory revealing themselves as I walk through buildings and down tree-shaded paths. There are the benches in the fine arts building where I took naps after art history class my freshman year; the school supplies area in the bookstore where I spent my hard-earned money on fancy gel pens to liven up my note taking; the building where I received my patriarchal blessing in a small campus office. Some of the places where I lived, worked, and studied have been completely erased—torn down to make way for new construction that still disorients me after being back on campus for a year. Eighteen years ago I was one of the new freshmen I now see walking around feeling simultaneously excited and scared (although I didn’t have a cell phone glued to my ear at the time).

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