Well over a century ago, my mother's grandparents immigrated from Ireland to California. They brought with them their Catholic religion, which Mother practiced. She marred and they lived on a ranch. It was a distance to town. They had two daughters, both were born there on the ranch. Then a son was born to them, but before he was two months old, he died from an abdominal problem, one which probably could be readily corrected now in our day.
When the Catholic priest talked to Mother, he told her that her infant son would go strait to hell because he hadn't been baptized into the Catholic church.
Mother gave that some consideration and concluded that her sweet, innocent baby could have in no way committed a sin that would send him to hell. Believing that this was a false concept, she left the Catholic church. She and her husband sent their children to the closest Protestant church wherever they lived but never to a Catholic church. In fact, years later when I went with a friend to some event in the Catholic church, Mother was quite displeased.
Later, they had two other daughters. It was Dad who taught us to pray.
The family moved and lived on Route 66. The neighbors up the corner and across the street had kids the same ages as us, so we were good friends. One girl was my age and invited me to go to parties with her and we had a good time. After months of participating in these activities, which were MIA parties and were nice, clean fun, she invited me to go to church with her. I thought I probably should because, after all, I had been going to the parties so I should probably go to church...feeling maybe a bit guilty. My sisters felt the same.
The sacrament meetings were good, I knew all the kids my own age because of going to the parties. The building was nice and clean with a stained glass window of Joseph Smith receiving the revelation of the Godhead. I enjoyed the meetings and stopped going to the Church of God.
When I heard the revelation that Joseph Smith received, it was like a floodlight fell on me! This church was true! It has a real basis for its existence. It was not a unit started by some man, but organized by God himself. The original gospel was restored. What wondrous news!
My sisters and I were baptized in June of 1946. I was 16 years old and had just graduated from high school. The truth of the restoration has remained with me. I am grateful for the church and for my wonderful family.