Youth Conference

Ferron was calling us again for Youth Conference 2017 so we headed back per the kids' request. How grateful I am for parents who willingly lend out their yard. Not just for us, but for groups all the time.

President Davis, first counselor in our stake presidency, is over the safety for the the power plant outside of Ferron and others around the state. He graciously offered to meet us down there and give us a tour of the power plant. I don't know how many countless times I've driven past that plant and have never been inside. I also learned on that tour that our bishop is not a fan of heights.

Some of us hiked to the Indian writings again.

The priests helped haul some hay one morning.

Everyone played in the pond. 

And we offered our services to a lady in need. Here is her story.

This year our youth conference didn't quite get planned until last minute. We had been before so it wasn't too stressful other than figuring out who was in charge of what meal and did we have enough seats for everyone. I called the nursing home to see if we could come and perform a little talent show for them again but nobody got back with me. The Sunday before we were to leave I started to worry a little about finding a project for our group to do when I had a thought to ask Cindy Astill about her sister that lives in Ferron. I knew this sister was a widow and might need some help. Cindy almost immediately responded to my text with a huge YES and gave me her sister Darline's phone number.

Later that night I called Darline to arrange a time for us to come. She was more than ecstatic and wasn't one bit worried about having 40 or so people in her yard. When we showed up in our matching blue shirts, it was an awesome sight to see.

She pulled me aside to tell me that she had just started a new job as a counselor at the high school and somehow their files had been lost and she was spending 12 to 14 hour days trying to get everything up and running before registration the following week.

Sunday night she had pulled into her garage with her daughter in the seat next to her, wondering to herself how she was going to tackle the yard projects that needed to be worked on, when I called. After our little exchange she turned to her daughter and said, "You are not going to believe this. We have 40 people coming on Friday to help us."

I knew then that the reason the nursing home had not gotten back with me was that we were to be helping hands to someone with a greater need. There is no greater feeling of joy than knowing you have been an instrument in God's hands.