In the early '70s my then husband and I donated a large sum of money to the "building fund". In those days members raised money for a new building, and Salt Lake matched it.

Later, we divorced.

I came home one day and my antique moon roller grandfather clock was gone. My ex left a note that said, "That's for your share of the building fund."

After his death, his GF said she was going to auction off everything in the house. I said I'd buy the clock. She said someone else wants it.

My son called me, "Mom, the clock is yours! Come down and get it anytime you want!"

I'd rather my ex were still alive, and he could keep my clock.

But, ultimately, the church didn't get it.

Grateful for my son.

My folks couldn't afford their "share" of the building fund for a new chapel. So Dad and I along with several other men from the ward, were conscripted as manual labor.

We dug trenches, poured concrete, Dad layed brick. We moved the benches in and bolted them down.