For those of my readers who are unfamiliar with baptisms for the dead, this site will be helpful information
I was asked to join a group of ward members
to go down to Medford Temple with our newest member. I had gone with the youth a few times but had
never physically been in the font since I had lived in Utah.
I had ridden in the car with our former
RS president and our newest member. On
our way down the car encountered something – though none of us seemed to know what
it was. It felt like a pothole. Our driver continued driving hoping to make
it to the next exit. Unfortunately the
tire lost all air and he didn’t
wish to continue driving on the rim. We
were a quarter of a mile from the rest area.
Fortunately the tire was on the passenger’s side and he managed
to remove the burnt mangled rubber that had once been a tire and replace it
with a donut. That is a few many miles
to be driving on a donut! But we made it
to the temple when all the others arrived.
I hadn’t taken my “Wendy” hair into
consideration as I entered the font. It
wasn’t until I
removed a towel from around me that I saw large orange splotches and was mortified. I had orange on my white clothes. All the while my hair is dripping like carrot
juice all over the floor. Oh, gosh. I remember only one time when my hair bled
after I had colored it. What was
happening? Ahhhhhhhh!
This morning I took a shower and
realized I had never added the conditioner to my hair after it had been
dyed. Perhaps if I had there would have
not been the problem of bleeding out and becoming even more flaming red.
When I exited the car (a different car than the one I had gone down in) Jaime was on the porch laughing. I asked, “It’s my hair, isn’t it?” YUP. I’d take a picture, but the photo really doesn’t do it justice.
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