"Nope."
I said, "Why not?"
"Too boring."
I lifted her off and said, "Next."
I didn't think that we ought to air that family secret.
I talked to two or three other children, and finally the door opened and a little toddler came in, cute as a button, in a freshly ironed dress. You know what her mother must have put her through to get her ready to come down to the studio. What an innocent face. I picked her up and said, "Well, who are you?"
She said, "Cory."
I said, "How old are you, Cory?"
She raised three fingers. "Three."
By now I was out of questions, so I said, "Do you know how to sing?"
"Uh-huh."
"Would you like to sing for me?"
"Uh-huh."
Without any prompting she commenced to sing a medley of Primary songs, ending with "I Am a Child of God." I don't know what that does to you, but I'm kind of tender. I looked through the window and the engineer was even pushing back a tear or two himself.
Then I said, "Well Cory, you sing like you know God."
"Uh-huh."
I said, "How would a three-year-old know God?"
She looked at me, and I'll never forget the answer. She said, "Because I have a father."
And I thought, "Oh, the power of a father in the home!"
I said, "Do you know Jesus?"
"Uh-huh."
I said, "Who's Jesus?"
She said, "Our Elder Brother."
I said, "Do you love Jesus?"
She said, "Uh-huh."
"Why do you love Jesus?"
She responded, "Because of what he did for us."
I said, "What did Jesus do for us?"
She came right back and said, "He died for us."
I said, "Why would he do that?"
And she looked at me as if to say, "Well, don't you know?"
She said, "So you and I will live again."
(Elder Paul H. Dunn)
