Jesus Loves Me

  I am writing a book of stories from my life.  It is called "Grandma's Stories."  Following is one of the stories from that book.

Jesus Loves Me

When I was a little girl, we attended church in the old, white church.  It was a large three-story building.  We had Sunday school on Sunday mornings.  The adults attended Sunday school opening exercises in the chapel upstairs; the children met in the Jr. Sunday school room downstairs. 

I vividly remember this experience.  I was sitting with my class in one of the folding chairs.  The Sunday school leader was standing up front, holding a picture of Jesus.  I don’t remember who she was, but I remember what she was wearing: a pencil skirt and a blouse.  As she held the picture, she bore a simple testimony of Jesus Christ.  As she did, a strong feeling (what I now know was the spirit) went through my body.  I knew that what she was saying was true.  Jesus lives.  Jesus loves me.  I was just a little girl, but I knew.  I have never doubted since then.  That testimony rested inside me and has remained in my heart since.

I am so grateful to a dear sister who had a testimony of Jesus Christ and faithfully fulfilled her calling- changing a little girl’s heart forever.  It is a defining moment in my life.

 

This is the picture that she held.  Because of this experience, it is my favorite painting of Jesus Christ.