I was asked a while ago to write out my conversion story for a friend of mine who just left on his mission. I’ve been thinking about this a lot and how I wanted to make sure I included every major detail. However, there was so much to it that it’s rather difficult to include every event, feeling, emotion, and thought into this story. I can only say that I will try to make the most of it, and to truly bring the spirit to this story as I felt it within time.
I met a boy in school who was definitely different from the rest. I was able to befriend him and get to know him through school events. We were both in the chamber choir, and the choir was a family to one another. This was my junior year of high school, and his senior year. Our choir and school put on a big drama production of Oklahoma! in March 2007. I played in the ensemble, and he played Ali Hakim. I like to joke that he was perfect for the part because it wasn’t a big transition from his real life to the character’s. Little did I know, back then. One Sunday after our final performance, I was invited to a fireside taught my one of the sisters of his ward. At the time, I had no experience with the mormon religion. There were several of us drama kids there; all dolled up in stage make-up. I remember my hair was done; curled and gorgeous. I had on very heavy eye makeup and the foundation was orange, covering my face all the way done to my chest. I didn’t speak much, but attempted to be friendly. I really had no idea of what to expect. I just wanted to spend time with this boy. The lesson was enjoyable, although the topic escapes me. It was a very comfortable atmosphere.
As time went by, the choir prepared for our first road trip/tour together; we were going to San Francisco! The whole choir, about 26 of us, plus our director and chaperones, would take a motor coach to Ashland, then to San Francisco, then all the way back to Scappoose in 5 days. I got to know this boy very well on this trip. This trip was over Memorial Day weekend. Soon after, summer came. I was invited out on his family’s boat, to more mormon events like youth dances, and I got to know his family decently well.
The end of August led me to my first missionary discussion. I took it more for the boy than for myself. I remember wanting to just talk and be casual with everyone. Luckily, one of the missionaries knew what he was doing.
I just was friends with Boy from that point on – attending youth dances, church occasionally, and spending time with new friends. I had found myself a boyfriend from one of the dances as well. He was a member, but never tried to teach me or invite me to events. He was afraid of losing me from “pushing his religion” onto me. That relationship lasted 10 months. Now, this relationship was not with the original boy from choir. He had remained a very good friend and when I needed to vent, he was there. I took a lot of his advice because it made sense to me. I found a lot of my strength in him as time went by.
Headed into town one day, I listened to a voicemail from a number I didn’t recognize – two new elders were in the Scappoose area and wanted to meet up with me. I finally did meet them at a fireside where they actually spoke. One of the elders told a story of his missionary work in a different area, and how this “big, scary man” had a heart of gold. I started taking lessons with them and with original Boy, and before I knew it, we all had become very good friends. There was a point when one of the Elders challenged me to a June baptism. I had turned him down and I remember it being very awkward in the room. I didn’t want to make a promise I couldn’t keep. However, a month later I was seriously thinking about the church. I had been attending Sunday meetings pretty regularly now and my best friends were a part of the church. My favorite was fast and testimony sunday every month. I would watch so many people go up to the stand and just bear to the rest of the ward their lives and experiences. Some were emotional, some weren’t, but all were real. I just knew it. I could relate to it. The more time I spent at church, the more confident I was in myself. I finally had something where I belonged and felt comfortable to be who I wanted to be. Only one thing really stood in my way of deciding to be baptized, and that was my parents. My father had been raised Catholic growing up and had the religion forced down his throat from a very early age. As soon as he hit 18, he was gone and has never been apart of organized religion. My mom has been searching for churches to attend, from the Lutheran church to the New Life church held in the elementary school’s gym. Both of my parents claim to be spiritual, and do not need organized religion or a building to meet. My mother was caught up a lot in the history of the church. She does not feel that it is needed to do all of the things LDS members participate in. She didn’t like how the temple “kept people out”. In my eyes, I feel that she just doesn’t have enough knowledge to truly understand why things are the way there are. She would constantly come to me asking if I was truly serious about this church, but had a tone in her voice that wasn’t very welcoming. This was only because she was scared of the unknown she held onto. It was a hard decision to make to be baptized, at the time, because my family wasn’t for it. With the support of my missionaries and that boy, I decided that I truly did want to become a part of Heavenly Father’s true church and felt that I needed to do so for myself. That was my first big sacrifice for the church. For a while, only the missionaries and Boy knew about my decision. The rumor slowly spread until a couple weeks before my baptism. I had become close with one of the missionaries and wanted him to be able to attend. He felt that he may be transferred at the next meeting, but it was county fair season for me. I was very busy. We found a date 3 days before transfers where I could get away from fair for my baptism. This particular day happened to be a Monday.
Best friend Boy helped me in how to choose what positions were filled by which people for my baptism. I made the decisions myself in the end, and decided that Boy was going to be the one to perform my baptism. It meant a lot to me, and I felt that this boy had gone leaps and bonds to share the gospel with me, and I could tell he was completely sincere in his actions.
The day of my baptism, I actually had cold feet. I arrived to the church an hour before and met the missionaries there along with one of my close girl friends. She had driven 1 ½ hours for me. My heart wouldn’t slow down, and I could feel that I was starting to have second thoughts. However, people started to show up. One by one, they all flashed me a friendly smile and either a handshake or hug. All of my fears had vanished. I felt at home again, and I knew why I was there that day. I had a mission, so to speak.
I was baptized on July 14, 2008 in St. Helens, Oregon. I had virtually all of my best friends there, including my entire family. The fact that they all had come had meant so much to me. I think back to that day a lot and remember how there are people who support me daily, and that deeply care for me. I know I’m not alone in this world.
Ever since July, I have gained a testimony that cannot be shaken by the many cruel happenings in this world. I’ve had my faith tested many times in these short 3 ½ months and I have become one of the strongest people I know. I have learned that I need to be an example, and that anything is possible as long as you keep your faith. I have never believed in something so powerful and with all my heart. This church means the world to me, and all I have now is to endure to the end. Because of that boy, my missionaries, and the many people within the church, I am the happiest I have ever been. I rarely have a down day and I’ve been told that I glow. My mom has even started attending church with me somewhat regularly. I see the early church stages of myself in her right now, and it gives me hope. The thing that breaks my heart the most is that I can’t share this experience with my family entirely. I am trying, little by little everyday to be the light to shine forth onto them.
Thank you, Elder Claridge, for introducing me to this gospel and sticking with me through it all. Thank you, Elder Huppi, for calling me that one spring day and asking to get together with me and your companion, Elder Seppi, and becoming a close friend. Your friendship means the world to me. I hope to see you all soon.
This is my conversion story. May it inspire someone to seek the truth, to strengthen a testimony, or to bring someone joy, as it has done for me. Victoria K. Moore
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