Scott

When Scott was about 7 years old, Howard W. Hunter was the President of our church. Not far into his presidency, he announced via a news conference that he had terminal cancer and not long to live.  We talked about it as a family and then continued on with our normal evening activities. Bedtime came and I went up to tuck Scott in as usual. I went to kiss him goodnight and there were tears streaming down his little face. 

"What's wrong?" I asked.
"I'm just so sad about President Hunter.  I love him so much." 

We talked for a while and when I could tell he felt a little better about it, we said a prayer together and then he went to sleep.I learned a lot about Scott that night.  Like his compassion towards others.   His testimony of a living prophet. 

When Scott was 3 years old, all the boys were in the backyard of our home in Sandy happily playing baseball or some other game.  Suddenly, there was Scott, walking very deliberately the length of the yard with a stern look on his face.  It was obvious that one of the boys had done something to make him mad.  When he reached the fence, he stood there and then wanged his head hard against it.  Then walked the same deliberate way back to where the boys were and resumed playing with them.  I learned a lot about Scott that day too.  Like - when enough's enough, you will know it.  Our family calls it the "crap/dang-it" moments.  It's one of his most endearing traits and everyone in the family is very entertained by it.He has been gone 16 1/2 months now.  I miss his compassion, his spirit, his humor, and yes - his "crap/dang-it" moments. 

He's all grown up now and he deserves to be called a man, but he'll always be my dark haired, chubby cheeked little baby boy.