WIndsor Castle and an Old Friend
Forty-three years is a long time. I hadn't seen Terry Robertson since then. He was baptized the week before I was transferred. I taught him twice a week for almost six months. It was a miracle when he fasted, prayed, and made the decision to join Christ's church on the earth. But I'd lost contact. I knew he lived on Woodbury Hill in Luton, but that was it. I wasn't sure if he had moved or what had become of him. Talking to elders at Zone Conference I heard that he may be in the bishopric, but they weren't sure. I sent a text to the current bishop of Luton but hadn't heard anything back. I was at the temple, helping support the youth at a regional temple event called "The Temple Takeover." I sat across from another senior couple handing out snacks and water bottles to about 200 overheated youth as they ran around the temple grounds discussing spiritual ideas until it was their turn to go do baptisms. During a lull, I turned to Sister Herriot and told he...
