After joining the Church in 1970, I took to ministering like a duck to water. I enjoyed meeting Church sisters in their homes. On one occasion we visited an old mill that had been bought by a family group and divided into four homes.
We called on the mother first and found that the water level of the millstream was rising. The younger members of the family were filling sandbags, and my companion went to help them. I stayed with the mother, watching with concern as the stream flowed over its banks and crept up to her front door. Armed with brushes, we attempted to keep the water out.
I was then called on to care for the youngest child, who was 18 months old, located at that time in another of the homes. By now, the water was a foot deep. I found myself being thrown over someone's shoulder in a fireman's lift, to keep me somewhat dry.
I found the little girl sleeping; the rest of the children were at school. She was calm on waking up and seeing me. I told her that her mum and dad were busy downstairs. We looked out the window at the busy adults. Together we played and talked until the rest of the children came home from school. Suddenly I was 'mum’ to thirteen children! I loved every minute of it, and when the brethren came to take me home, I didn't want to go. I got the eldest boy and girl to promise to take care of their brothers and sisters until their parents returned. I had loved being their temporary ‘mum’ and felt so responsible for them. To say the least, it had been a very memorable ministering visit.