America's Choice

I walked into the Bountiful Temple and noted that only one of the two recommend stations was manned. A bit of a line was forming. In front of me was a lovely, tall young woman.

An ordinance worker walked up to the unmanned station and began fiddling with the computer. The young woman moved over beside him presumably to split the growing line into two, but from the computer machinations, it appeared that it would be some time before the station was ready to scan recommends. I motioned to her to resume her place in front of me where she would be next in line.

She held her ground and said, "I'm being taken care of." She smiled. She seemed to smile easily.

My recommend was scanned and handed back to me. Before continuing into the temple, I turned and stared directly at her from the front. She returned the favor with obvious amusement.

"You're Miss Utah!" I said. I hope I didn't point at her, but I'm afraid I probably did. Bad form.

She appeared startled and I assumed that I was mistaken though the resemblance was uncanny.

"I am!" she exclaimed. "I was," she corrected. Then she flashed a dazzling, completely unmistakable smile. "Thank you," she said.

"Hard to miss," I muttered as I turned and continued into the temple.

It's no surprise that I couldn't remember her name, but I wished that I had muttered something like "People's Choice" (actually, should have been "America's Choice") to cement the identity.

A contemplative temple meditation session was out. I hurried home to get onto blogger and clear my brain of Jill Stevens. Yes I remembered her name -- significantly during the endowment.