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Getting back up to where I could defend myself, I spot a small opening next to Mom. I scoot and manage to squeeze in. Mom smiles down at me. I put my head on her lap and she begins to lightly tickle my back. There's no better feeling in the world!
Hey, hasn't the speaker's voice changed? I hope so.
Wouldn't a face massage be nice! I turn my head upwards and catch Mom's eye. She lightly brushes her fingers around my eyes, nose, mouth and ears. This is the way to spend eternity!
My celestial happiness is interrupted by a head-slap. Ben is trying to push me off Mom's lap. I resist, but he is the youngest, so Mom sits me up. I glare down at him. He just smiles and closes his eyes.
Still twenty minutes left!
I desperately signal down the row for my pencil, but they just ignore me. Adding some grunts and kicks, I feel Mom's fingernails clamping down around my neck.
"Mommmmm..." I begin to whine, but she just digs in deeper. The entire family is snickering, and Mom holds up one finger. Then two. We all quiet down. Three fingers meant either sitting in a row in the cry room, or no TV--or both.
Mom then pulls a pen out of her purse, smoothes out a wrinkled program, and hands both to me. I begin doodling, and I almost don't notice the organ music.
Almost. My pen frozen in my hand, I look up at Mom and ask, "Is this the closing song?" A look of tired relief on her face, she nods yes.
"GOODY GOODY!"
Tired relief changes to embarrassed discomfort as the members in the surrounding rows chuckle at my delight. Mom places her curled hand around my leg and takes up the slack.
As Mom releases her grip to hold the hymnbook, I press my ear against her, enjoying the uniquely comforting sound and feel of her voice. This is the best possible ending to sacrament meeting..
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"Amen."
I instinctively joined in and reached for a hymnbook.
It was a green hymnbook, and I noticed for the first time that the tabernacle organ imprint wasn't in relief. I sighed at the thought of younger generations who would never get to experience the time-consuming quest for a perfect rubbing.
Yet, I also had infinite faith in the imagination of a desperate child, and I left the chapel somehow re-energized for the week.
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