By Heather B. Moore
“Don’t you dare step into that Mormon church. You will go to [bleep]!” Carole’s mother had said more than once.

The sentence didn’t need to be finished for my good friend, Carole. She was Catholic and I was Mormon. Yet, we’d become the best of neighbors in a small apartment community in sunny Southern California.

Religion wasn’t our only difference. She was Mexican. I was Caucasian. She was short, I was tall. She was outgoing, I was reserved. We were opposites in many ways, yet our spirits connected.

Our two boys were close in age and played together in the endless warm weather. Then we each had daughters. We swapped babysitting, organized play dates, talked about books and movies, and traded sewing techniques.

But the question hung heavy in my mind—should I talk to her about my religion? We’d had a few casual conversations, but nothing serious or “testimony” worthy. I didn’t make friends easily, so I truly valued her friendship and didn’t want anything to mar it. Yet, I knew that if the roles were reversed, she wouldn’t hesitate to share her testimony with me.

As a member of the Relief Society Presidency in my ward, I had an upcoming Sunday lesson to teach. The topic was on friendship. Of course
I thought of her a lot as I researched and prepared for the lesson. She had taught me many values in friendship, and I felt I’d learned as much from her as from any of my Mormon friends.

But since her mother had been so vocal about the LDS church, I was hesitant. I didn’t want to drive a wedge between them or make her choose on my account. After praying and deciding that the only thing I could do was ask, I invited Carole to my lesson. I explained that it was a lesson on friendship—which made it a perfect lesson for her to attend.
Carole’s mother wasn’t happy. She warned her, but Carole decided to ignore her. Was it defiance of her mother, or curiosity, or both? When Sunday morning arrived, I was nervous. Carole was coming to hear my lesson. I saw everything and everyone at church with new eyes—looking at them with a fresh perspective—wondering what it would be like to be attending for the first time.

My lesson went well even though I was a ball of anxiety. At the end Carole said she enjoyed it. Relief flooded through me. My prayers had been answered. Best of all, and much to her mother’s surprise, Carole came back in one piece, proving to her mother that she’d survived a Mormon church.

Carole started to attend a few “homemaking” nights with me and became friends with other LDS women. She made friends easily; it was just her nature. She was a genuinely compassionate and giving woman. I envied her at times when she could so naturally make friends and express herself.

By Halloween, Carole’s mother’s heart had softened and decided that our friendship didn’t have any ulterior motives on my part. Carole and her family, along with her mother, came to the Ward Halloween activity. I gave her mother a tour of the beautiful stake center. She was impressed with the artwork that adorned the walls and the simple yet graceful appearance of the building.

As Christmas approached, I knew what gift I wanted to give to Carole. I wanted to give her a Book of Mormon and share my testimony. But, the doubts crept back in and I didn’t know if I had the courage to go through with it. I was afraid that it would put pressure on the friendship, or that she’d see it as an ulterior motive and our friendship would slowly dissolve.

Finally, unable to put off the promptings any longer, I wrote her a two page letter, sharing my testimony and my gratitude for our friendship. I put the letter inside a Book of Mormon I’d purchased for her family. Then
I prayed that she would know the pure intent of my heart and that she’d understand she wasn’t on my to-do list to share the gospel.

Christmas morning passed by in a rush, but my heart pounded whenever the phone rang. Was it Carole? What did she think? Finally she called.
With tears she thanked me for the gift. She knew how important it was to me. And by sharing it with her, she knew how important she was. All of the worry and hesitation left me, and I knew that by following the prompting I’d been given, I’d become what she’d been to me all along. A true friend.