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Lindsey, I have a story to tell you.” My mom had a magical story she used to tell me. She would hold me in her arms and start the story the same way every time: “One day in heaven, a long time ago, Heavenly Father led me by the hand into a room filled with children. He told me that today was a special day; it was the day I got to pick out my very own child.” The story made me realize that she loved me more than anything. It taught me that I was special and important just the way I was. It conveyed in a few moments that I was valuable to my mother.
Mom told me about all the different children in heaven that she could have picked. “Some liked playing soccer, and others liked playing with animals. Some were really good at math, and others were good at painting.” She would go on for a long time, telling me about all the children.
The end was always the best part: “Each one was so different and beautiful that I had to walk up and down that line for a long time. I looked at every one of those children. And I chose you.” I never get tired of hearing that story.
After hearing the story for a few birthdays in a row, I realized it did not have to be my birthday for the story to make me feel great. I started asking her to tell me the story anytime I had a bad day at school, or when I was sick, or when I did not get elected to be class vice president, or when I did not make the varsity softball team—anytime I needed to know I was okay just the way I was.
I remember calling her my freshman year at Brigham Young University after I had just failed my first algebra test. Everyone I knew at the university seemed to be a super genius. I called her and said, “Mom, would you please tell me the story again?”
Without hesitation, she launched right into the perfect retelling, which included, “Some of the girls were good at algebra, and some were really good at speaking French.” She always knew just what I needed to hear!
I had a Human Development professor who asked my class of 600 students to share any unusual traditions we had in our families. I told the whole class the story my mom used to tell me. After class crying girls approached me and asked if they could write it down in their journals to tell their children. My professor asked if he could incorporate the story into his “traditions” curriculum from then on. It was then that I realized: maybe more people besides me needed to hear I Chose You.
Now I am twenty-five years old and have published the beautiful story my mother has told me for many years. People often ask me, “So do you tell your children this story?” I am never quite sure how to respond. In 2003, I gave birth to a baby girl who was three months premature.
Jenessa survived only an hour, but she lived, breathed, and was in my arms for one glorious hour. She is now buried near where I work, and from time to time I go down to the cemetery and read her I Chose You. I guess I want her to know that even though she was only mine for an hour, I chose her, and I love her, and I want to be her mom forever.
As I have gone to book signings, I have heard many stories of how my book has helped to alleviate the suffering some families have had to face—young children who have been killed in accidents, mothers who are overwhelmed by the demands of motherhood, children who have learning disabilities, children who have been abandoned by their fathers, children who have life-threatening diseases, mothers who have postpartum depression, fathers who are programmed to be “tough” and never show their children love, teenagers who suffer from all manner of destructive behavior. The list goes on.
The magic of I Chose You is that it works on everyone, whether you have a child, or are a child. Everyone needs to feel love daily. I Chose You is a tool of sharing and conveying love.
This Christmas season, as you find yourself thinking in terms of trinkets, T-shirts, and toys, I challenge you to focus more on the real gifts in your life—your precious children, your courageous parents who gave you life, and all the people who need to hear you say you love them. Make a special effort to spend quality time with your family and friends.
Let the people who count on you know that you are available when they need you. Go out of your way to give compliments and praise. There are more important gifts than those found under the tree. We all have a contribution to make in this world, and sharing of ourselves is the essence of that contribution. Share your gifts with everyone—you have been blessed with many more than you can imagine.
I Chose You is available everywhere books are sold.
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