At Church

Last week at church I was standing in the lobby with Ammon who was a little too fussy for Sacrament Meeting.  I was standing there swaying, observing the people around me.  Ammon was really squirmy, leaning hard to one side, practically jumping out of my arms.  Unsure of why he was so wiggly I finally looked to see what he was leaning towards. I found him seemingly reaching toward a picture of the Savior hanging on the wall.  I was standing almost parallel to the painting and Ammon didn't have a great view, so to test my theory (was he really looking at Christ or was he reaching for the fake flowers on the table below the picture?) I quickly moved right in front of the painting so that Ammon had a better vantage point.  Immediately Ammon's little baby body was still as he looked up at his older brother, smiling, almost conversing with Christ.  He saw a face he knew.  I felt a moment of reverence standing there with my boy, almost pleading with him to share with me what he saw, what he remembered that my mature eyes could no longer see.  For a very active five month old, my sweet boy was still, calm, and smiling at a friend.  It was a sweet experience.  I don't want to forget it.  Since Ammon was born I could feel a mature spirit about him.  I believe that the veil that separates us from our familiar heavenly home is much thinner than we realize.  I believe that veil grows in density as we mature and that fresh little spirits see and feel more than I currently do.  Frequently Ammon stares at the ceiling during sacrament meeting.  So much so that I often look up expecting to see something out of the ordinary.  Every time, the glaring white paint is almost disappointing.  How grateful I am for the plan of salvation, for eternal families, for those little sacred moments that remind me that we really are spiritual beings here having an earthly experience.