Mother had taken down all the crucifixes in our house (as Mormons preferred to focus on the resurrection rather than the crucifixion).

Caitlin was holding her rosary, the last vestige of our former faith; Mother held the attention of the brethren & elders, even as I held David’s.

Sister Wiley was the shark in a sea of smiling faces. We had intruded upon her territory, where she’d reigned as the last of the red hot mamas.

I was told my happiness was the Spirit converting me, but something else told me that my heart was deceitful above all things.

I looked at my hands, which were still, & that was when I realized the trembling was inside.

I was confirmed as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints & given the gift of the Holy Ghost, through the laying on of hands.

When the brethren placed their hands upon my head, giving me the gift of this Holy Ghost, I felt a tingling, perhaps because I was told I would.

As Sister Schafer sang, “I Am a Child of God,” my cheeks became wet. It occurred to me I had never felt like someone’s child before.

I had expected a sprinkling of water on my head–not a total immersion into the one element over which Satan had been given dominion.