To the Latter - Day Saints

To those
who have felt
His Healing touch;

To those
who know
we've been
Given much.

To those
who
have glimpsed
His kind face,

and those
who
have stepped away
from the race:

Keep biking,
Keep walking,
Keep soldiering on;

Keep learning,
keep loving,
keep singing 
His songs.

One day
in His Glory,
Will drop
All to their knees.

Someday soon
ALL will witness
Why WE Believe.

You Become what you Think and Do - quote

You cannot be passive in life, or in time the natural man will undermine your efforts to live worthily. You become what you do and what you think about. - Elder Richard G. Scott, The Transforming Power of Faith and Character, General Conference, Oct 2010

Blessings of Being a Member of the Relief Society

I was reading over a lesson that was shared with me from a Sister on Sunday (from a class I did not attend, due to me attending Gospel Essentials - I am a newbie!) .

I am so thankful to have the opportunity to belong to such an incredible organization as is The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints' Relief Society. I was inspired to share the quote that she had shared in the lesson.

In an effort to respond to the inquiries from outside the Church, and to remind ourselves of the grand blessings of womanhood, we as a Relief Society general presidency present the following: We are beloved spirit daughters of God, and our lives have meaning, purpose, and direction. As a worldwide sisterhood, we are united in our devotion to Jesus Christ, our Savior and Exemplar. We are women of faith, virtue, vision, and charity who:Increase our testimonies of Jesus Christ through prayer and scripture study. Seek spiritual strength by following the promptings of the Holy Ghost. Dedicate ourselves to strengthening marriages, families, and homes. Find nobility in motherhood and joy in womanhood. Delight in service and good works. Love life and learning. Stand for truth and righteousness. Sustain the priesthood as the authority of God on earth. Rejoice in the blessings of the temple, understand our divine destiny, and strive for exaltation. http://lds.org/general-conference/1999/10/rejoice-daughters-of-zion.p9?lang=eng

Walking in the Woods

My Best Friend's Role and Absence in My Conversion

It has already started.
Last week, I invited my best friend to join a new church friend and myself to a mid-older singles event.
It was just a little bbq behind a local meetinghouse, but it was where people first assumed I had been baptized by my best friend.

They didn't know just how wrong they were.

Truth be told; I was expecting their assumptions. I expect many more people to assume the same thing. So, before the world jumps to the conclusion that my best friend converted and baptized me, I would like to tell my side of the story, and expose just how much of a misnomer that assumption would be.

I was introduced to Rick, Richard Alexander Larsen Sr., through several people on several different occasions.  He became my best friend after we had both experienced a life event neither one of us had ever imagined: divorce.

Mine was after 22 years of marriage, 3 children and 3 grandchildren. His was after 27 years of marriage 6 children and 14 years of surviving stage IV renal cell carcinoma.
Neither of us were involved in the church at that time.

I would learn of his church history through his words. But I felt his anger at God.

Our histories regarding The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints were opposite: I had once attended sacrament service with a friend of my mother's when I was about 7 years old; He had been born into the light. His family were pioneers in the church, he descended by blood and by Priesthood from Zera Pulsipher & Clarence Larsen. He knew God and our Savior on a personal level. I did not.

We talked about God, Jesus, and spirituality quite constantly. His father and step-mother shared scripture passages with both of us through long phone conversations as well as email messages.

I thought I knew about God; but I did not understand his faith.

But I am getting ahead of myself a bit. When I met Rick, he was in a very dark period of his life. Many people on the outside, and some in his own family, assumed that he had embraced the darkness that appeared to be surrounding him. However, I saw a strange light within him. I was drawn to that light.

He confused, angered and frustrated me.

The intimacy defined by the touch of his forehead upon mine, sweeter than any kiss; left this former teenage mother confused and at times, in despair.
Here was a man who would tell me I was physically beautiful, lovingly call me a spiritually a child, and at the same time say that he also considered me very intelligent! I proceeded to misunderstand his every word.
He appeared extremely attracted to me, but yet did everything within his earthly power to resist acting upon those feelings.

In my mind, we were both divorced adults in our 40's. I saw no evil in the act of physical intimacy. But as he knew, I was spiritually a child. I didn't understand. He did. He tried to teach me. I didn't comprehend what he was attempting to convey.
It was at this point he made a promise to me, to be my friend forever.

My heart was broken. I went searching for answers in the homes of my friends across the country as I traveled and explored the country and the people that I love.

This was October 10, 2010, at 10:10. It was a very binary moment.

I did trust God. I put my life in God's hands as I traveled the country alone. First by train, then by car. First completely alone, only Christ by my side (I prayed constantly); then, in May 2011, my service dog and constant companion, Athena Brooke, joined my travels. Anyone who has ever had a constant companion in a canine knows that there is more of a connection between "dog" and "God" than dyslexia. I swear He communicated through her on several occasions! (but that is a story for another post at another time).

On several occasions, through my travels, (to the complete and utter confusion of many of our family

Rick & Maggie
2011 Denver, Colorado

members and friends) Rick and I spent time together. He would have an extra couch, or tent, and Athena and I would hang out with him and his dogs, until once again my heart would shatter for what I could not create from our friendship and I would resume my travels. I resumed my search.

In February of this year I finally reached the bottom, and finally started asking God some pretty intense questions. In answer I was impressed to resume the work on my genealogy in earnest, as well as to download the Book of Mormon.  But, as soon as I formulated the idea that I may want to get baptized, demons from hell were unleashed against  me.

My spiritual conversion could ONLY happen alone. 

During most of the time leading up to my baptism, our communication was very restrained.
Not by me, as I was flooding his phone with texts and questions, knowing he knew the answers through the scripture better than anyone I knew.  He had shared scripture stories with me for years; whereas I had never read the scriptures myself until this year.
But he was in a dark place, fighting depression and the demons that surrounded him.
When I messaged Rick, asking him if he thought I should be baptized; his answer (in spite of the chuckle I could FEEL on the other side), was a simple "if YOU think you should be."

After that, in the midst of attacks from every son of Satan; I prayed that God would show me the true church and my path. 
At this point in time, on the 6th of March, I silently wished that it had nothing to do with "Rick's" church.
God knows me, He knows my heart, and I felt the overwhelming answer to my prayer:  My granddaughter's church was the true church.
Yes, my granddaughters and their mother and her mother are members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

My path, though, would continue to be a solitary one, in regards to my best friend. I felt him out there.
But in spite of one of the strongest testimonies on earth, he was not attending church.

Speaking of  HIS Testimony, or the reason that the masses would jump to the assumption he converted me; let me expound on that in my brief and broken way:

Rick has survived stage IV renal cell carcinoma for 15 years, so far, after having been given 3 months to live.
He is the only survivor of an experimental treatment program of which the initial numbers were 101.
He was given a Blessing.
He was healed.

I heard him speak his testimony daily for months. As one of his sons has stated, no one can listen to Rick bare his testimony and NOT believe.

Within me, I kept a part of his testimony that only he and I were aware of. I had felt his struggles with the commandments. I had been one of the very tools that Satan used against him.

As my pre-baptismal lessons began, I began to comprehend just who I had been to him. I started to feel the pain of repentance and my contrition was immense, as the sins I had committed against the friend I loved with all my heart became apparent to me. My eyes were being opened, and I was disgusted what I beheld.

I apologized to him, and to his father. I wanted to apologize to each of his children for even the way in which I had looked at him. I just hadn't understood before this spring. Before I studied the commandments for myself, I didn't know just how wrong I had been.

He didn't ever steer me away from the church. In fact, when I went out to explore the country, he told me if ever I needed anything I could always go to The Church. But I fought against it. At that time, it was his "religion" that had kept us from being a couple.

In my immature mind, God had told me "no", and I was a rebellious child screaming "WHY NOT?!?!?!" and kicking and screaming. It took me a few years to calm down from that tantrum and listen to what God was trying to tell me.

As I traveled the country, I received many reminders of the church. I have told the story of Temples at every "wrong turn" as being "stalked by Christ". He was reminding me that He would be there when I was ready. And He was.

Through the last three years, Rick was there for me as well. Through texts and calls and late-night talks, he would tell me stories of his and his pioneer ancestors that inspired my further trust in God.

I now understand that he was sharing his ancestors' testimonies.
Those testimonies of Zera Pulsipher, and that of Clarance Larsen, both Seventies. He was sharing that he understood God.

But Rick remained away from the church, as I took the covenant of Baptism.

The day I was confirmed as a member of The Church, we talked  on the phone for the first time in weeks. As I progressed in my spiritual journey, in my scripture reading as well as my involvement in The Church; our communication grew more frequent once again.

This culminated in our being in a ward meetinghouse together last week. Where, among a few gathered sisters and members of the Brethren, I heard the man I call my best friend call me his lifeline and share his testimony of his return to The Church.

I thank God for the  friendship of this man I can now call Brother Larsen.

Only God understands the complicated people that we all are, and  to each of us He grants us the guides we need and those we can help.
I thank God for every one of the gifts He has granted upon me.  Some of those have been delivered through my best friend, Richard, and the Larsen family.

(note: this was written and published with Brother Larsen's permission)

Maggie and the Missionaries

(subtitle)  "Those Tender Kind Souls Who Would Have LIKED Preached His Gospel to Me and Those I Finally Listened To"

I have rarely admitted to anyone the long road it has taken me to get to a point where I invited missionaries into a house in which I resided.

In fact, I don't believe I ever did; until the day I personally ASKED them to come to my current location.

Before being introduced to the idea of The Church, (then it took me another 3 years to soften my heart towards the Book of Mormon, and The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints), I rarely even opened my door when tracking pairs came knocking.
When I did, I was MUCH less than polite, let alone hospitable.

If anyone had told me then, that I would now delight in the company of Missionaries, being overjoyed when I had the opportunity to invite them to join me for a meal; I would have called them a liar. Not a chance!!

I never listened long enough to hear their messages, until it was the right time for me. AND the right Missionaries.

During the past three years, I have often stayed in the homes of both friends who were inactive and some who were active members of The Church. On many occasions they have invited Missionaries to visit while I was present.
Even in the month before my baptism, a couple of weeks before I downloaded the Book of Mormon and began reading it; when the Elders appeared at the door, I ran to my room and hid.


I had no idea why. But God KNOWS His children. He knew me better than I knew myself.

After 46 years of being treated in a certain way by the male gender, and having had NO exposure to righteous priesthood holders; I didn't have a clue as to what to feel around them. In my mind men were all the same. I was so wrong.

Sisters Johnson
& Lloyd

There is no such thing as coincidence, happenstance or kismet. Call it "fate" or by any other name you wish; but it is ALL part of God's Divine Plan. Everything.

When I experienced my personal revelation on 6 March 2013, and requested that Missionaries be sent to my home to teach me; I didn't even KNOW Sister Missionaries EXISTED!!!!


Before I met Sisters Lloyd & Johnson, I hadn't even formulated the idea that Sisters COULD be Missionaries. I had never seen any, it had never even crossed my mind. "Strangely enough" (#HolyHighFive!), my area had very recently been assigned their first Sister Missionary pair!

When the Sisters placed my first "hard copy" of The Book of Mormon into my hands; I felt my spiritual eyes open.
In their presence I was finally able to relax and feel the Comforter, The Holy Spirit, and KNOW what that feeling WAS!!!  I wanted Sisters Johnson and Lloyd to tarry forever.

The Sisters guided my fellowship and friendships with prayer and listening to promptings of the Holy Spirit. That day they guided my tour through the Ward Meeting House. I felt at home for the first time in my life in the company of Sisters.

When they asked me about baptism (it felt like forever, but it was probably only days after they met me); I was over-anxious. They mentioned the 30th of March, and I reluctantly agreed. In retrospect, they probably thought I was being hesitant, but I wanted it to happen sooner. I just knew that wasn't my baptismal date.

Sure enough, a few days later, they asked me if I wanted to get baptized a week sooner; on the 23rd. I was elated, and agreed. God had heard my unstated prayer.

When my lessons came to the daily preparation for my baptism, I never wanted them to end. Much the same way I felt about my new member lessons, in the home of a wonderful Ward Missionary family; I felt the Spirit so strongly I never wanted the lessons to be over.

It is wonderful, now, to be in the presence of returned, current and future Missionaries. I now delight in the Light of the Holy Spirit that surrounds them.

Some fun after
a service project

Thanks to a many pairs of Sisters & Elders who have been VERY instructive and loving, I am learning about Missionaries. Sisters Lloyd & Johnson have moved on to other areas, and I had the blessing to meet Sisters Frandsen and Langi as well as many others from neighboring areas. They are all wonderful young men and women.  I love each and every one of the Missionaries.

I feel the excitement of the Second Coming when I am around them.

With the Missionaries, I feel the JOY of knowledge; The GLORY of the Testimony of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and our Heavenly Father, God!!!

I anxiously await a time, in the future, when I might be graced with the opportunity to serve a mission.

Holy High-Five, Jesus!!!!

I started to feel like I wasn't saying "thank you" enough to God, and to Christ, for the atonement.

Also for the Gift of the Holy Spirit. I just wanted to feel like saying "THANKS!" as much as I felt thankful.

So, I decided to begin "high-five-ing" towards Christ.

I know it is silly, but it is my way of saying "Thank You, Jesus for all of the incredible blessings that my life has been graced with since my baptism."

So, in the phrasing borrowed from the comics, but in full gratitude and love for my Savior; "Holy high-five, Jesus!!!"

I will continue to raise my hand, in a thank you, I may say it out loud, or I may just silently reach, in gratitude for my savior's love. It all means the same.

His Holy Love and Lighte to ALL! Praise God of Israel! Praise His Holy Son!!! Holy high-five to all!!! :)

Rawhide

A happy
puppy
enjoying
a rawhide
treat.

A Bishop's
speech;
Rawhide

not so
sweet.

Handcarts
and rawhides;
challenges
and blessings
of past.

Faith
and truth
a timeless path.

A Forced Accident

Forced Silence

Penalization
turned Paradise.

Data speeds
Slowed by overuse --

Expected video
DENIED
Silence Remains.

Thoughts Expand
Imagination's Playground --
A ponderer's delight.

An accidental
conversation --

with God.

A Different Kind of Happy Father's Day: Temple Work as Therapy

I am a survivor. I didn't realize the extent of the abuse that I had survived, until repressed memories surfaced three years ago. Even before then, I knew that "Father's Day" never conjured up the happiness in me that it seemed it ought to have.

I have experienced years of psychotherapy for the abuse I knew I sustained at both my father's and my stepfather's hands. But the anger and disappointment remained.

Four years ago, Father's Day 2009 marked the violent end to my marriage of 20 years, although we wouldn't actually separate for nine more months, nor was the divorce final until we had been married 22 years. But the marriage was over on Father's Day.
Yet another memory for that seemingly ominous day.

Ronald George Slighte 1967

This year is so different. Having the gift of being more in touch with my Heavenly Father, it was He that led me to a method of forgiveness for my temporal father, Ronald George Slighte.

The Temple.


When I took the information for my father and for his father, both of whoms deaths had been trageties towards our entire family simply by their manner, to the Temple; I was rewarded in abundance.


The freedom that is forgiveness. Something not many people actually achieve, as many have told me that they couldn't imagine forgiving similar abuse. I didn't think I had the capability either. Truth be told, I wouldn't have if I had embraced the restored Gospel.

When I met my best friend in 2010, in him I saw a father. He was a real "Dad" to his kids. Even while fighting a battle with cancer, the true integrity of his motto "family is FOREVER!" shocked and entranced me. It was through him that I started learning more about God.

My path over the last three years has been a varied and confused one for much of the time. But when I was at my weakest, I put everything into God's hands, and I was rewarded abundantly. But when I first had the impression to take my father's name to the temple, I wasn't sure if I was ready.

This year, April 20th was a very special day. I had interviewed with my Bishop, and was deemed worthy to enter the Temple on a provisional recommend to perform baptisms of the dead for my ancestors.

George Ronald Slighte, Margaret Florence Clara Slighte (nee Foley),
Margaret Thornhill Slighte (nee Walsh) & Thomas Slighte
(left to right)

I was baptized in the name of several of my female ancestors on my father's side, including my paternal grandma, Margaret Florence Clara Foley Slighte McGhee King (a mouthful, I know!).
I then requested to be present when the proxy for my father and his father was baptized and confirmed in their names.


The young man who was baptized in my male ancestor's names had no idea the gift he gave me. He looked embarrassed by my tearful reaction upon hearing the names of my father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, being confirmed. The Temple workers were empathetic; passing me a tissue with eyes full of understanding.

That day I was gifted with an intense relief, but it wasn't the end of it. I had a mind to write about it when it happened, but felt that there would be more to write about. I had no idea how much my feelings, and then my life, would change.

By being able to release the anger and pain I felt towards my father, and then the disappointment in him regarding his death; and give him up to God to be taught what he needs to know on the other side, I feel free. I no longer carry the burden on my back of his abuse or his suicide after not having seen or talked to him for over 17 years.

In the past few months since taking their names to the temple, I have been rewarded with the absence of the memories that had come to me after having been repressed most of my life. God has granted me the gift of the ability to remember the happy times. The times that God was there in our lives.

My father is now in God's hands.

My Heavenly Father will take care of it all. To both of them, I say "Happy Father's Day. I love you."

But it is my Heavenly Father, to whom I say, "Thank you, for letting me be a "Daddy's Girl" again!"
His heavenly Love and Lighte to all on Father's Day.

Baptism - a poem

Ironic
A dentist
dressed
in white

My own
jumpsuit
of white

White
underneath
covering
the shame I felt.

My granddaughters
and mother
stand at the font

Backwards
I am dunked
By the dentist

I feel my feet
out from
underneath

I do not panic
I feel secure
in his, and His
support

Up from the
font
I am brought

Clean of my sins
a new life
to begin

I smile at
my granddaughters
and know
it was as much
for me
as it was
for them

Family IS forever,
Amen.

But WHY the "Mormon Church"

I have heard people say that they understand my faith in God, but not my decision to join The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. They don't understand why I chose to be a Mormon.
A Latter-Day Saint.

First, I don't believe it was a choice. Even an ex thought I had already been a confirmed member of The Church six months before I had even read the Book of Mormon!

I have always been on this path. God chose me. It just took me 46 years to open my eyes.

I joke about having been "stalked by Christ", or more appropriately, by His Church. In my journeys across the country, I found myself stopping and pondering God in front of temples I had no clue even existed before happening upon them.

Books about the Mormon Trail fascinated me. A people who displayed their faith. And what faith it was, and is.

There are a few facts that I want to share with others, about some of my beliefs that finally found their home:

• The fact that Jesus Christ and God are separate, immortal beings and the Holy Ghost is a separate spirit entity.  
• That God did not cease communicating with us through prophets in the time of the bible. 
• We have a living prophet that receives revelation for the church in these times; his name is Thomas S. Monson.
• We have the right and the obligation to ask for personal revelation in prayer and to listen to the small still voice that is the Holy Spirit. 

I finished reading the Book of Mormon for the first time (just a read-through, I plan to go back and study it diligently after I finish the rest of the Standard Works) on April 30. I believe it to be another Testament of Jesus Christ. I prayed, and was impressed with the knowledge that it is.


The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is the only church that has ever felt like home. My children and my mother know how long I have searched for the truth. Many of my closest friends have seen my search as well.

I am finally at home.

Faith in the Small, Still, yet Firm, Voice

When the world around me, is saying one thing, yet that small voice inside says another, it sometimes seems difficult to choose the right.  
Even in small things.

I have prayed to my Heavenly Father to illuminate the my path a bit brighter; I acknowledge that it has taken me quite a long time to find the Light that is Christ and my church home, and I feel the need to ask for a bit more enlightenment in regards to the choices He knows are right for me. That doesn't stop me from hearing the world.

So, when the voices of even the most pure at heart conflict with that small, still voice that is that of the Holy Spirit; it is time for me to turn off the world. "Airplane mode" for me, not just my phone. Taking the time to be quiet and ponder. Contemplate. Listen to and for, the Holy Spirit.

I recently watched several General Conference talks about just that: the need to take time to ponder.
Quietly. I find joy and God's touch in the quiet.
My favorite places to ponder, are in the world that He created. The least touched by man's hand, the better. For me, whether they be the Olympics, the Cascades or the Rockies; the mountains of the world are where I feel God's energy to the greatest extent.

My next favorite place to do it, is while driving. Something I am very thankful to have started to do once again. I missed it. I didn't realize how much.
Having seen so much of the country in the past couple of years; for me it is so easy to see God's hand in it all. It is unimaginable for me that some can not see it. I feel sad for them.

The Holy Spirit is there to guide us in EVERYTHING we do.

Holding the hand of our Heavenly Big Brother, Christ; we CAN stand up to any pressure. If we have FAITH. Faith that His hand is and will ALWAYS be there for us to hold.

A friend of mine recently shared with me that for most people, faith is something they strive for, but don't really feel.
My reaction was immediate and profound: Complete and utter sadness. Grief.

But WHY?!?! Don't they see?!

Don't they know that EVERYTHING good is God?! Don't they realize that the atonement is for them?!

I have been guilty of using the euphamism "the Universe" in the past, when I meant God. No matter what words I used, I could see a greater power.

I have been given the blessing of seeing the world through a new set of eyes. I am able to not only look back and see how God has watched over me all my life; but to also see His hand in every moment I am currently living.
When I catch a hold, when I have lost grip; when I put something in a strange place, just where I would need it next; the Holy Spirit is there.
God's own guide.
A gift to me from Him.
How great is His love?!

My journeys these last few years have truly shown me evidence of the Living God. Every time that I "let go" and completely invested my time and my energy "in the moment"; God showed me why I was there.

Nothing is an accident. There are no coincidences. It is ALL part of the plan. Yes, we have our free agency to choose; but that doesn't negate the fact THAT was foretold as well. As were EVERY choice that you and I were and are destine to make. It is this belief that has led me to the faith that I have.

I believe that Jesus Christ is the Only Begotten Son, that God, the Father sent Him here to show us the way and the truth and the light of life.
I believe that the Holy Spirit is the gift I have received through God to guide me in my each and every decision that I make.
I have faith that everything will happen exactly when and where it is meant to happen.

We ALL have our paths. Not one is the same.  That is why God has given us each the posibility of having our own personal guide through the darkness we can find on this side of the veil. Our own personal lighthouse.

I think of the Holy Spirit as my own personal lighthouse that shows me the right where ever I am. When I am not obeying God's commandments, a dark fog surrounds that light, making it difficult to make out. When I follow the commandments and make and keep new covenants with God, the light becomes brighter and brighter. It illuminates my path.

That was my prayer. I prayed to my Heavenly Father that the path that I should take would henceforth be illuminated a bit brighter, since it has been difficult in the past for me to see, or choose the right that I did see. He has answered my prayers in abundance!


I have experienced many trials in my life; I know that my trials won't be over until my time on this side is done. But I have faith that the Holy Spirit is there to guide me.
All I have to do, is what I am told. Keep God's commandments. Pray for guidance when I lack the knowledge. Keep reading The Gospels of Christ daily. Remember where the true light comes from.

Have FAITH; He is there to guide and direct us.

Minding Our Words and Dress

Tears filled my eyes as I pondered the condition of my remaining mismatched compression stockings, combined with my current temporal situation. I wondered if the lady member in the Family History Center had any idea the effect that she had upon me.

I am so incredibly thankful for the divinely-inspired friendships of my own ward family. None of the women in my ward have EVER caused me to feel the way I felt that day.

I was once again accompanying my friend on her volunteering day at the FHC to use that opportunity to research my own family; when as an answer to a prayer I had just started, brought me to assist this Lady on the computer. While we awaited the computer's piece of the task at hand (populating her family tree after I entered her information), she shared with me her views on the current state of the dress of the women of the church.

Most of her words went in one ear and out the other; since there have been a few occasions even in my own ward, where my eyebrows have been raised.
When she started in on bare legs, she got my attention. Even with the longest of skirts, she stated, there is NO reason they cant go to the effort of at least putting on knee high nylon stockings to come to church.

My skirt was long, and there were members in the FHC that day even wearing jeans; but my bare legs felt conspicuous, and I tucked them further under the chair. It hurt my heart that she thought I didn't care how I presented myself.

In the past two months since my baptism, I have not shared my temporal situation with many people other than very close friends and members assisting me with the practicalities of becoming one of the "covenant people". I have had generous Sisters hand down skirts when I owned none. I have been on the receiving end of much generosity within my ward.

On Saturday night as I laid out my church clothes, as I pondered what she had shared with me the state of my own remaining support hose had me in tears. Then I came to a realization.

If my faith was less than it is, and I had not been gifted with divine friendships within my WONDERFUL ward family; I could EASILY been intimidated into a point that I didn't feel my dressing abilities were worthy of being included in Sacrament Service.

Twice now I have attended the Seattle Temple to perform baptisms for the dead of my family. With her words ringing in my ears, I humbly remembered that I had worn nylons neither time. My clumsiness due to my disabilities causes the practicalities of putting them on in a stall, nearly impossible. Having a broken thumb makes dressing difficult enough without adding the complication of attempting not to snag a nylon.

I am VERY cognizant of presenting myself in the appropriate manner. To this end, I have hand-printed a piece of paper above the mirror I use. When I have my own home, I will put a mirror by the door with this on a wooden sign above it saying:

"If you were to meet Jesus Christ on the street today, would you feel happy with how you look?

NO? Turn around and change! :)"

God is the ONLY one I need to please. Never once have I been told in answer to a prayer that I need to put nylons on for Him to love me!

I do know that "we are all human". I know The Church and the restored gospel are true. Personally, I will make sure from now on that I mind how I approach others, mindful that we are ALL God's children, lest ANYONE be caused to feel by MY words, how I felt after HER words.

Author's note: I was compelled to read this in my Relief Society meeting shortly after I had posted it. To my surprise, after the meeting was concluded, when I walked out of the meeting room, I noticed the Lady who had made those comments, awaiting her ward's service which is held in the same building as mine, at a different time.
We have exchanged many pleasant conversations about family history, and I doubt she even remembers the comments about clothing. The important lesson for me, was that I did, and it causes me to be mindful about what I say to others, daily.
I wasn't wearing nylons that day either. :)

A Testimony of Tithing

Personally, I didn't think I NEEDED a "testimony of tithing". After all, EVERY time I have ever given away my last dime, I have been rewarded with abundance.

It happened that I had waited until I was in an interview with my Bishop and he got to the tithing question. I excitedly grabbed the envelope that I had almost forgotten was in my bible case, handed it over to him, and said, "yes, I am a full tithe payer!"

I was excited to pay my first tithe. I was a member of the church!

Less than 40 hours later, I received a text on my phone informing me of a deposit into my account. Not expecting my Social Security until a day later, I was confused.

It was a refund that I expected. But it was about a month early AND it was more than I expected!

I quickly calculated out ten percent of my windfall, and put it into the envelope for the next month.

Post General Conference Ramblings

I find it funny that some people have said that the Latter-Day Saints are like a cult. I find humor because of the fact that although when i had the change of heart, I had a desire to judge others and isolate myself more from those not in the church.
I was counseled by the Lord, and lead to scripture and church teachings that taught me that is against the church's teachings.

In fact; to love ALL is the mandate.

To strive to become Christ-like in ALL actions, but especially to love thy neighbor as He loves us. We are ALL children of God. We are ALL Christ's siblings.

Christ is the ONLY perfect child. The rest of us are sinners. We are imperfect. We are mortals. But we can strive to be worthy of the title of "saint." We can ALWAYS listen to that small, quiet voice, the guidance we are granted by our keeping our covenants. We can choose the right, walk in the light and bring that light to EACH and EVERY being that we touch in our lives.

I love having the opportunity to show God with every choice I make; that I am proud to be His daughter.  Nothing else, really matters.

This weekend, as I listened to President Monson, The Prophet, speak at the General Conference; I was moved to tears on many occasions.
I know that he is the living prophet. Not that I doubted, but I know every time that I have seen him. He has the connection. The "force" is with him.

The women of the church move me with their words. The story of the carpet scripture, touched my heart in many more ways than I can express.
The talks about virtue and redemption hit home.
As I spoke with friends who watched it, we shared how we each felt the answers to our prayers, as if those talking were answering each of our questions; no matter how different the questions. That is the magic of the Lord. He knows. He KNOWS how to touch each and every one of us.

Full of the white light of the holy spirit tonight. It was a glorious general conference.
I wish His holy love and light to all. It is a blessing to be alive and full of God's glory.

Adult-converted Mormon older "mid-single" Woman AKA: just me

Adult converted older "mid-single" Mormon woman. What a mouthful, what a phrase. Stereotypes, anyone?

From the point of view of WEARING that particular label, as it were, I can ONLY tell you what it means, from MY point. The willing label-wearer.

I came from the background of a person who had a personal relationship with God, and had asked for Christ's assistance on MANY occasions. I also have been answered in one way or another, all my life.

When I desired to come closer to Christ; I asked in prayer how to achieve that goal. I was answered in a personal revelation.

Due to the fact that I sought out the church, rather than the church seeking me out (although some would argue this fact due to the simple truth that the church and it's fallen members seemed to haunt my life this past decade) I may have a different experience than many adult converts. I am only writing about what I personally know. This is MY take on MY conversion.

One of my biggest frustrations, currently, is etiquette.
WHERE is the handbook??? I feel like I am missing a required manual!!
I watch the Relief Society Presidency messages on MormonChannel.org. That helps, SOME. But not all.

What do I talk about, when?? With whom??? 
What is okay, what is going to get me looked at like I have purple spots and a green horn?!

Being a single adult older woman just entering a society that is so centered on family presents a set of awkwardness all it's own. It helps having my granddaughters in the church with the other side of their family being members.

Even before I joined, from fallen as well as current members, I heard the phrase, "the church is true, but the flock are human" or MANY variations such as "the Book of Mormon is true, but the flock have strayed".

Even as a new member, I STILL get the "flock are human" phrase ... sigh. I know we are all human. But, as a "flock", now that I am part of it, I think we need a new "tag line."

Can't we at least ATTEMPT to live up to being a "covenant people?"
I am doing my best. That, to me, is the most important part of my conversion: the COMMITMENT to LIVING the covenants I have made with the Lord!

I STRONGLY desire to live EACH one of the commandments; from here on out.

In that end, I desire to be around people with the same goals. To live up to the promises we made when we were baptized.

The commandments are very simple and well-laid out. In black and white. One thing I have been pretty good at, most of my life, is doing as I am told.

I rallied against it, yes. Sometimes rather loudly. God knows me well, He knows I have an opinion. So He gave me the gift of articulate communication.  It all comes out in the end. I do what I am told, then I either celebrate or complain; either way, I have an opinion about it. Some things never change.

Now, to the things that DO change.

For the last few years, especially since I have not been working at a state job (on disability since 2002); I have not worn a lot of dresses. The skirts that I HAVE worn, could barely be considered belts. 

This is something that not many of my church friends understand about me. Modesty has NEVER before now, been an attribute of my dressing.

Therefor, I first had to eliminate items from my wardrobe that I would no longer need. Halter tops and miniskirts and miniskorts went first. THEN came the underwear that is ONLY required for non-modest apparel (strapless bras, etc.).

Then, to purchase clothes. I was very blessed to have been gifted a few skirts by generous new church friends. Then came the issue that I would have to find something to wear UNDER them. Since I was unaccustomed to wearing skirts, I also owned no slips.

God answered my prayers with cooler weather: I could layer the skirts, since they were similar colors, and wait until my Social Security came in to buy a few slips at a thrift store. It worked wonderfully.

The silly practicalities of becoming the person that I want to be. God has filled my heart so completely with this change; that seeing people running around the streets not even close to how scantily dressed that I know I have been, embarresses me and humiliates me. I feel sorry that they don't honor just how special their bodies are.

This is so different for me. Many people will never understand. I hope some do. The "change of heart" that is spoken about by so many, including in the Book of Mormon; is SO true, and so wonderful.

In the end, I believe that those of us who CHOSE to come to the church as adults, have a LOT to offer the church. We bring with us an enthusiasm for the scripture and for a virtuous life. Many of us have tasted all we ever wanted and more of sin; we LONG for what many born into the church take for granted: righteousness.

We came to the church to fill that hunger, that longing, that had been there since we were born. We have come home.

Going Forth in Virtue with Shame

I FEEL different.

I feel ashamed when I think of my past behavior.
It's not how I want to remember myself. How do I reconcile this? All of these feelings?
I know God forgave me when I was baptized; but SERIOUSLY, the VERY thought of doing any of those things, ever, APPALLS me!

I believe that it is a mercy, that the Holy Spirit has filled me so completely that I feel PHYSICALLY REPULSED at the ideas of certain things that I know I did not that long ago. It's an awful feeling, remembering certain memories.  I feel ashamed. Full of shame. It's something I am having a hard time putting into words.

It was LITERALLY a complete change of heart. It happened quickly. VERY quickly. The moment God told me that I must seek the church and baptism or I would loose that small quiet voice, forever. Only then did I realize how little I had REALLY bothered to listen to it for most of my adult life. I took it for granted that it would always be there, when I needed it.
The thought of loosing it horrified me completely.

At that time, I began changing my behaviors, gradually.

I have since changed: 

• My manner of dress (many items of clothing were removed from my wardrobe completely   - not even layering would work). I RESPECT my body as a child of God. I am a sister to Christ. My big brother wouldn't want me showing my body in disrespectful ways.
• My way of speaking (no more vulgarities)... and it is difficult at times, I will admit. I have had that habit since I was a small child. I am using it as an opportunity to strengthen my vocabulary as well as evaluate the reason behind using expletives in the first place.
• I strive to be a calmer and gentler person.
• The music I listen to: I no longer listen to a lot of heavy metal. Quieter music with a positive message is my preference right now. Especially no drama-filled music (this is VERY difficult for a girl who likes her country!).
• The way I spend my time: I am spending my time between doing my best to help others each day as well as learn more about the scriptures every. I read or listen to scripture at least an hour every day. I have been walking every day. Taking time to play with Athena and get outside. Even on the bad days.

These are changes that have made my spirit SHINE! I have felt BETTER and BETTER inside and out with each progressive change.

Heavenly Father filled me with the desire to only do what I had put my intention behind: Start on a virtuous path. Leave sin behind and walk forward into the LIGHTE!!!

I thank God for His hand in my life. He reached out and grabbed me by the nap of the neck and said "WAKE UP!!!"  LITERALLY. That is how it feels.



A changed heart indeed. A FULL heart. Full to bursting.
I love my Lord.

Heavenly Father, Thank you for all Your heavenly blessings. In Jesus' name I say this. amen.

Slightely Maggie: George Ronald Slighte

Slightely Maggie: George Ronald Slighte: While I was pregnant with my first child, in 1983, at the Golden Gate National Cemetary, I first saw his name in stone: Slighte, George Ro...

What an Incredible Week

Wow. I can't believe that it's the night before Easter. One week ago I was baptized. One week ago tomorrow, I was confirmed as a member of the church.

I FEEL the spirit of resurrection SO deeply tonight. Filled with the Holy Spirit, I feel blessed beyond measure.

It has been less that a month since I contacted a sister so that she might assist me in getting in contact with a missionary. The rest, as they say, is history.

THEN I was BAPTIZED!!!

And life BEGAN anew!!

In no small way, my life began to be FLOODED with BLESSINGS!!!!

Tuesday, in the Family History Center with a Sister's guidance, I was able to make contact with a distant cousin who had a treasure trove of photos of a grandfather who's face I had never seen before. This followed a miraculous story of his heroism in World War II that I was able to uncover in the FHC and a grainy newspaper photo's discovery that day.

Subsequent messages exchanged with my cousin have proved very cathartic and healing for me and my family. Learning about the inequities visited upon my ancestors due to misunderstandings and judgements, and having been given the opportunity to set the record straight for my descendants is an INCREDIBLE blessing.

Then, on Wednesday, I was graced with the gift of my words and creativity. During my period of contrition and repentance before my baptism, I was told in prayer that my words would come back after I made that covenant; I had NO IDEA how much that would be true!
My poor fingers have gone to sleep tired each night since!

My words and questions and opinions have flowed incessantly, it seems. Within that time, I have posted several pieces on my personal "random thoughts" blog: Slightely Maggie.
I also designed this blog and have written and posted several pieces.

When I decided that perhaps some people may read this, and desire to give me feedback, but not necessarily publicly; I could not find a pre-designed button that worked. So, I encoded a bit of HTML.
The first code I have written in over ten years. I just hadn't felt inspired to do so; UNTIL NOW!

I had a wonderful time visiting with sisters I had known from my ward as well as others when my dear friend took me to my first singles dance on Friday. It was great to dance while maintaining my righteousness and celebrate new friendships. So many new friendships! Wonderful!

I cannot begin to thank God enough for the WONDERFUL women he has brought into my life in the past few weeks. Generous and kind with their words and deeds, I am so grateful to have them in my life.

Another blessing has been the GORGEOUS weather this week. I couldn't have imagined a more beautiful weekend to be celebrating Christ's Resurrection as a newly baptized woman! A daughter of God, a sister of Christ.

I thank God for all the many blessings of this week; both that I have mentioned and for every moment since last weekend. I am so incredibly grateful for everything.

It is AMAZING.
I pray that the blessings continue, in YOUR life as well as mine! Happy Easter!!!!

How Did I Get Here: My Journey to the Church

I first visited a Mormon Church in Shelton when I was a small child. One of my mom's friends was Mormon, and was watching my brother and me on a weekend and we attended church with her and her family.

What do I remember about it? Not much, only that I had to have a long dress (I wore my Easter dress) and I ended up committing a horrid sin later that day on the way home (I used profanity) and my bottom got a beating. I was about 7 or 8 years old.

The next time the Latter Day Saints crossed my path, it was in the form of my best friend. I met him a bit over three years ago. His family had been in the church for many generations. He, himself had held many positions within the church, but his immediate family had drifted away from the church for various reasons.

When I met my twin granddaughters in July of 2010, just days before their second birthday, I was also given the information that their maternal grandmother, Mary, and their mother were members of the church.

My granddaughters were born into the church. It was a realization of an obligation on my part, but it took me another two and a half years to really recognize it. Their father, my son, had never been a part of their life, and it was for the best.  However, I intended to be a part of their life as much as I possibly could.

 

As I traveled across the country and back, visiting friends and learning about myself and my country as well as the people in this world; the church reminded me it was waiting for me. A "wrong turn" put me in front of the Twin Falls, Idaho Temple on such a gorgeous day while I was beginning a trip across the country in 2011, that I felt compelled to take numerous postcard-quality photos of it.



Then, on my way back to Washington in 2012, during a rather difficult part of a depressive state, I saw the Angel Moroni peaking above a hill next to the northbound freeway just north of Independence, Missouri and I pulled over and cried, having known the stories about the Mormon persecution in Missouri. It felt like a redeeming; that they made it back, and were NOT hiding. It was a wonderful feeling.

When I began reading about women motorcycle riders (riding is one of my great loves), I read a book called "Riding in the Shadows of Saints: A Woman's Story of Motorcycling the Mormon Trail" by Jana Richman and in it I learned about much of the history of the Mormon Trail as well as her journey away from the church.

I ended up renting a room from my best friend's sister's family after a horrid event in my life early this year, and I was interested in going to church with them. They were attending an LDS church. They invited me to go along, but every time I was getting ready to join them, the house ended up in upheaval and I shrunk back from the chaos, submitting to the unseen forces that were attempting to keep me away from the church.

When I ended up in a place by myself. I was gifted with time to pray and consider. I began researching the life of Emma Hale Smith, Joseph Smith's wife. Being a woman; I am drawn to the women. Especially the righteous and reverent moms. Their struggles pull at my heart. When I heard that she buried her sixth child on a February 7th, I cried tears upon tears; that is my daughter's birthday.

After considering her story, as well as the copy of of the Book of Mormon that I had downloaded, I prayed about which church is the true church. I knew that Emma had left the LDS Church and had been part of another church altogether.

I investigated, and found that the church that she spun off of the Mormon church, did, in fact, have a branch nearby. And they used the Book of Mormon still, as well. This confused the matter, for me. So, I was left to pray on the matter.

And pray I did. I called out to our Lord on my cold wooden floor of the attic room I was camping in. Lord PLEASE show me the way and the TRUTH!!!

I was answered. VERY directly.

You belong in the True Church. The True Church is that which your granddaughters are already a part of. Follow them so that you may one day lead them. Their very salvation depends on your choices.

Although I have felt the hand of the Holy Spirit in my life all my days, NEVER have I been directed and led so loudly.

I received another message that morning in that cold attic, as I knelt on the wooden floor:
If you do not convert and repent, you will no longer have the gracious guidance that the Holy Spirit has granted you thus far.

WHAT?!?!?!  NO more quiet voice to guide me?!?!?! I was terrified to loose my connection to Christ.

When I got up from my prayers; I immediately called Mary (my granddaughter's other grandma) and asked her if she could have missionaries from her church get me into contact with the right people so that I could learn more about the church that I was being called to, by the Holy Ghost, Himself.

You see, I had been calling every number that I could find on the Internet in my area for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, but there was no answer and no machine to leave a message; every number I called just kept ringing. UNTIL I prayed, and called Mary. I wasn't meant to make this change alone.

Mary was overjoyed at learning about my personal revelation. I felt a bond with her that I had never previously felt. Sisters in Christ, we were to become very soon.

That afternoon, I was visited by two wonderful and joy-filled sister missionaries. They brought me my own Book of Mormon, my first. Within a week, they had me on the path to baptism. My lessons became more frequent as my baptism neared, and with each lesson I became more excited.

It is almost embarrassing how much joy I have gotten from reading the scriptures. I literally feel euphoric when studying scriptures, both ancient and modern.

I keep a very detailed journal of my personal experiences, and soon I will share more from my spiritual journey as well, but for brevity's sake, I will say that the ENTIRE experience has been more enlightening that I EVER imagined!!!

My baptism was on March 23rd, and I was so thrilled to be confirmed as a member of my ward on the 24th.

The photo I am attaching is the Sister Missionaries with me at my baptism. I will always love these wonderful young women who have given me the most loving welcome to the true church that I could EVER imagine.
Not only did they begin my learning of the scriptures, with the Lord's guidance, they introduced me to one of the most wonderful friends I could ever imagine having.

Thanks to all of my new church family, as well as my friends and family who have been by my side during this confusing part of my transformation (I have keep many things "close to my vest" during this time).

Sending the white lighte of the Holy Spirit to all, so that perhaps some may also read, and know for themselves that The Book of Mormon is another Testament of Jesus Christ. I have prayed to know the truth, and I was told that I am on the true path of righteousness. I invite all to join me on that path. 

Baptism of the Dead

So, here is a confession: I was hesitant to share this particular blog on my Facebook pages due to the fact that I know that the "Baptism of the Dead" practice in my church has been known to be a controversial topic amongst those not of the church.

So, in true "ME" fashion, I decided to pray and write about my feelings on the matter. So, without further adieu:

What are "Baptisms of the Dead" to me?

The way my little brain understands it....it's as if Christ, himself would walk into the waiting room of hell and point at your ancestor and say, "Hey, you there, one of your descendants put in a good word for you, would you like to come with me?"

They still have FREE use of their agency (freedom of choice). But Christ is giving them a "second chance" via a descendant who has baptized them in the Temple.

Here are a couple of personal examples for me:

1. My grandfather: He was a Christian but who after a severe head injury succumbed to suicide.

I feel his mother and wife, two Margaret Slightes, begging him to come to heaven.
Why wouldn't I do anything and everything in MY power to help him?

2. My father: a loud atheist all of my life.

He succumbed to evil in the form of taking his own life, after having lived a life so sinful that some would call him a demon himself.

His mother and grandparents know his soul was tragically injured by his father's untimely death and all of the circumstances surrounding it. He was also profoundly effected as a child by the abuse by a step-father.
His abuse of me and my brother has left me in a position where forgiveness is difficult.

In his case, IF I were to submit his name to the Temple for baptism of the dead, to me it would be a signal that *I* have forgiven him for his horrendous sins against me, and I am asking God to do the same.

Past that; if Jesus allows him a second chance to change on the other side of the veil, who am I to say no?

Just sayin.

My Spiritual Journey

(originally posted on Slightely Maggie on 13 Mar 2013)

This is about me. Well, many things I write, and have written, have been about me. About my journey though this life. This is probably the most intimate glimpse I have ever given anyone.

I am giving it to anyone who wants to know.

For those who want to know why, Margaret Ellen Slighte, came to the decision to embrace The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints as her "church home."

I'm forty six years old.

I have tasted of any sin I may have desired, and many I never thought I could even stomach.

I am done. Done with sin. Done with living in any manner that is disrespectful to myself, my relationship with Jesus Christ, or that of God, the Father.

I desire to begin to live in a righteous manner. In a manner which is respectful of the relationship of my soul with the Godhead. With Christ, God, and the Holy Spirit, which I pray that I will be able to acknowledge how each have touched my life in every moment.

When do I remember my relationship with God, and Christ, beginning? What is my first "spiritual memory?" (What is YOURS? What do YOU remember?)

When I lived in Shelton (the first time), after my parent's divorce, my mother sent me to Sunday School against my father's wishes (he was an atheist, a LOUD one). I believe I was six or seven years old when this happened.
 

Margaret Ellen Slighte
1974

During one of the Sunday School lessons, we were singing the song "This Little Light of Mine" ( LIGHTE :) ) and I immediately felt a warm sunny feeling, but much brighter, around my "soul". It was my first conscious feeling of having a "soul". I knew there was a Christ. I also knew there were two other separate energies I felt: One of God, the Father as well as The Holy Spirit.

I have always known that we were all connected. I have always known that "good" or "holy" deeds brought more reward to my soul, than did "selfish" or "hedonistic" deeds.

During these nearly four years since the explosive destruction of my family, and my marriage on Father's Day 2009, I continued my disastrous and self-destructive behavior in a manner that was not only disrespectful to myself, it was also extremely public.

I have had times that the Lord has given me a glimpse of His comfort and glory. My travels across the country have been blessed with not only support of my friends, but also my Savior. My prayers have not gone unanswered. I have been given many gifts. I received them not with the grace I could, and should have.

Having displayed my sins so publicly, and with less than shameful appearances; I prayed whether, as part of my transformation, I should let go of any public exposure (social media). My prayers were answered that my contrition and apologies; my guilt and repentance be as public as I was with my sinful behavior.
Once my period of contrition is over, I will pray and re-evaluate which sites and accounts to retain, and which to discontinue.

When I speak of my sins, I learned the hard way that there is an adversary.

Evilhas worked it's way into my family since I was a very small child.

I have had agents of evil, and when I say evil, I mean the darkest of the dark, at work within my family for generations.

From the time my father's father submitted to the demons that haunted him, and ended his own life; our family has been haunted by evil.

My own father committed suicide around my birthday in 1999, 15 years after I last saw him. The abuse I sustained at his hands, as a small child can only be termed as evil. Then, as a young teenager, he made certain he instilled his lack of morality into my ideas. His constant guidance was down the wrong path. When I was becoming a mother, I KNEW I needed to distance myself from him.  I knew enough to keep my children from that piece of evil in my life. Unfortunately, I did not give them the gift of a righteous home to be raised in. For this I am very sorry.

In the last year, I discovered that the adversary will tempt us with that which we THINK we desire the most when we are at our lowest.

My teenage nephew committed suicide last summer, shortly thereafter I again went astray from a righteous path. I sought love and comfort from the evil that danced in front of me and begged me to join it.

I was to receive what I thought I desired, and instead of joy and elation that would be with truth and love, I felt instead the true stink and disgust of the sin, as a layer of scum, upon my soul.

Hedonism: self-love. I believe that we are divine. In the way that our Creator would not create anything LESS than divine. How I have treated myself and others around me has been so much less than divine.

The commandments are CLEAR, however, thou shall not worship anyone or anything except the one TRUE God. It may feel good for a little while, but the scum upon my soul is deep now.
I am in need of a baptism, a TRUE baptism and to exercise my own agency to choose righteous behavior which is respectful of myself and my relationship with Christ, and His Father, our Creator 

Throughout my life, whatever evils that I endured, and enjoyed; I KNEW right from wrong. 
I felt shame and disgust at some of my own behavior. What I DIDN'T understand, was how to change. I didn't respect myself enough, I didn't honor that I was a daughter of God.
Most of my life I allowed myself to be used in any way that the males around me desired to use me. I was disposable, right? WRONG.
I am a daughter of God. I deserve to begin to honor that.

My daughter, and my sons and my granddaughters and grandson deserve to be honored by me being a person who respects herself and who does her best to be righteous and respectful of our Father in Heaven.

I will continue to grow, and to learn, on my spiritual journey. I will expand and expound upon this, my journal of my relationship with my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. 

I invite anyone interested to do as I did, and look up the Book of Mormon, another Testament of Jesus Christ. It's online. Read it. Pray. Decide for yourself. I did.

Taking Maggie to the Temple

In the very few days since my baptism and gift of the Holy Ghost (it's only Wednesday, and this was last weekend) I have been covered in blessings.

During a visit to the Family History Center on Tuesday, I was blessed beyond measure, and those blessings have continued.

My paternal grandmother:
Margaret Florence Clara Foley Slighte McGhee King

I had intended to take "the three Margarets" to the temple with me (both of my grandmothers and my paternal great-grandmother, my Nana, are named Margaret) when I heard about the "newbie temple trip" coming up towards the end of April.

It was as if Nana stepped out of the veil, and said, don't forget my George. He loves God as much as I do!

Now I know why I heard that. I had contacted a distant cousin by email who had some information about our branch of the family listed on her own family tree. When she returned my email, she brought with her stories that I never imagined.

1915 the Slighte boys
Thomas, Ray & baby George

Including the stories of after my grandfather, George's death, how his brothers and others in the family and in their community were extremely mean spirited to both his mother and widow (the Margarets) who continued to love and mourn for George.


George was the baby of the family. Margaret Thornhill Slighte (nee Walsh)'s baby boy. The youngest of three living boys, four in total. One having been lost in infancy to illness.

Margaret Thornhill Slighte (nee Walsh)
and George Ronald Slighte
1915

On April 1st is Nana's birthday. She was born in 1879. She lived until 1972. While in my mother's attic, I have come across many many note cards that were sent by "Nana Slighte" (I NOW understand she was known as Maggie Slighte), to me and my parents while I was a baby. She was very very anxious to see and meet me when I was born.

Stories are coming to me now, from a distant cousin through emails. I will soon know more about Maggie Slighte (1879-1974). She loved my grandfather. She loved her family. And I know she loved me.  Her faith in our Lord was deep.

Unknown to me, I began going by the same nickname she used, in 2010. Pretty cool.  However, recently, due to me hearing that my mother, who named me Margaret Ellen after her mother (who went by "Ellen"), that she hates the nickname "Maggie", I reneged and began introducing myself as Margaret.

The funny part? Even my mother has a difficult time calling me the name she named me. I have also had a difficulty "renaming" my "self-talk"... falling into calling myself "Maggie" on many occasions.

This time, it is intentional:  Maggie Slighte will take Maggie Slighte to the temple.
I will be taking George's name to the Temple as well. Don't worry, Nana, I won't forget your baby boy. 

George R. Slighte, Margaret F.C. Slighte (nee Foley), Margaret T. Slighte (nee Walsh), and Thomas A. Slighte
(from left to right)