That Stereotypical Utah Experience, At Last

So, I moved. I finished my move on a Friday. Because everything went so fast, I wanted to attend my old ward one last time. I wanted the chance to say goodbye to the Young Women. I'd been wanting to bear my testimony on something for a few months, but hadn't been to my ward on a Fast Sunday in a while. So I did. Before Sacrament Meeting began, I went into the clerks' office to give them my new address, and my records were transferred before Church even started. The following weekend was General Conference. Today was my first Sunday in my new ward.

Rewind to that weekend I finished moving. Saturday morning, as I was getting ready to head of for the day, there was a knock at my door. A member of the ward stopped by to welcome me to the neighborhood. Fast forward a few days, my new Relief Society president stopped by with a plate of cookies. I received a note in my door this last week inviting me to a monthly get together the ward does for new members to meet auxiliary members of the ward. And then today, my first Sunday. I got there early so I could introduce myself as a Celiac to someone in the Bishopric. I brought my own rice Chex in a mini Ziploc I'd purchased to use. But guess what? I'm not alone, there is another Celiac in the ward and the ward already has a system in place. [insert sigh of relief here]

And throughout the morning, members introduced themselves to me.

Let's rewind about 6 months. Last March my Daybreak friends moved to another home in Daybreak.  Because of stake conference/ward conference/general conference/their travel schedules for work, the kids hadn't gone to their new ward yet.  When I'd watch them, I'd take them to my ward.  One Sunday, Mrs Daybreak asked if I could take their son to their new ward so he could meet the kids in the neighborhood at Church. Mind you, they had not attended their new ward yet. So little man Daybreak and I went to his new ward. Today was déjà vu of that Sunday. People introducing themselves, welcoming little man Daybreak. I was impressed by the lessons, by the people. I told my friend I was excited for her family to be in this ward.

When I was looking for a place to move, I felt inclined to the apartment building where I now reside. I knew it was close to friends, but beyond that, it's just an apartment. Nothing special. And then I found out I'd be in my friends' ward - the ward I'd attended last March, the ward that made that great impression to me.  Today, they lived up to that impression. 

The reason I say at last I've had the stereotypical experience isn't because I've lived in bad wards. Not even close. I have not always lived in neighborhoods or wards though that immediately welcomed me. Ones where I didn't have that sadness overcome me because I was sitting alone, and no one was paying me a lick of attention... you get the picture.

I do not know how long I'll be here, but for now, I'm happy where I am.