Hello and welcome to not-so-Molly Mormon podcast minisodes.

Today's email comes from listener Kira. Hi, Kira. She writes, I've been listening to your

podcast for a few weeks now, and even though I'm still only a few episodes in, I love what you're doing.

Oh, thank you. I don't know if you've discussed these topics before, but I wanted to share my

experiences. Both stories I am about to share involve the same man from my ward. I don't remember

the first as vividly as the second, but they both happened around the same time when my family

had moved from Idaho to Arizona. But first, some background about me. I grew up in the church

with periods of inactivity during my early childhood. I was never very

interested in it myself, but my mom always pushed us to go. My dad was never active. By the time

I was close to starting in young women's, I had been active for a few years. I was doing all the

things I was supposed to do as a good little Mormon girl. I went to church, prayed, went to Mutual, read my scriptures,

and joined seminary when I started high school. I was almost always in the presidency of my age

group and was even the president of the Maya Maids for a while. Here is my first story. It was during a

meeting of the B.Y.C. So that's, um, oh, sorry, I skipped a little bit ahead.

Let me go back. Um, she writes, at some point during this period of time, I was also part of the

Bishopric Youth Council. That's the B.Y.C. For those who don't know, the B.Y.C is comprised of a

member of each age group of the male and female teenagers, as well as the Bishop of the Church

Board and his counselors. We discuss things like mutual activities, service projects, and stake

business that pertains to the youth groups. Here's my first story. It was during a meeting of the B.C.

We were discussing a couple different topics,

and it would be my job to relate the most important pieces of this discussion

back to the other girls in my age group.

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