In the second week of June of the year 1965, our parents took us for a trip across the country to Salt Lake City, Utah to the Mormon Temple to be sealed to each other for time and all eternity. For better and for worse. No, I don’t think that was actually said, but it was supposed to be a binding experience and one not to be taken lightly nor forgotten.
There were, at that time, four children in our family.
We drove from Michigan and camped out along the way. When it started to get late they found a spot and set up camp. I have a memory of waking up to a school bus load of kids peeking at us in our sleeping bags as we had slept outside a country school in Illinois my parents thought was no longer in use.
Once we arrived at Salt Lake we were dressed in our best white clothing and taken to the Temple. Our parents had interviews and other things they had to do before we were to be sealed to them, so we were taken to the Temple Nursury for several hours.
I recall the big old baby buggys, lined up against a wall for infants. The older ladies who were in charge were much like our own grandmothers, kind and trying to be fun while keeping a spirit of reverence.
We were used to always having our mother’s cooking so when it can time for lunch we didn’t quite know how to take the, “new” food placed lovingly on the table before us.
When mom made us Tomato soup, it had cream and sugar instead of water and never rice in it. I don’t remember what the exact cause was but another boy was there waiting for his parents too and he and my older sister decided to get into a mess. She was around five and he was close to that age too.
The poor ladies never saw it coming.
Right from the beginning of the food fight it was a mess. These little children, all dressed in their best white clothing, now covered in soup that could stain.
All I remember is they were not happy ladies, the food fight ended and we were cleaned up and separated until our parents arrived.
I do remember our parents arriving at the room and taking us into an elevator and going up to a room where it looked like a place from a fairytale castle and we criss crossed our little hands one on top of the other over the altar and the man in charge said a prayer and declared us an eternal family.
We left that day with a totally different story of our first time at a Temple than most, and I am certain we helped initiate a new menu plan for the Nursury.
My parents were very happy that day, and as we left Salt Lake they took the above photo of the Temple. Decades later, after my own marriage in that edifice, I found myself living almost where the bottom right hand corner of the picture starts.
Everytime I eat Tomato Soup I think of the Temple.
Safety in the Fall 