I met Vickie last year while teaching a family history class.  I was impressed with the joy that radiated from her and then a few months later I heard her share a story about her son that really blew me away.  I was again impressed when she was able to pass through a horrible tragedy with a firm faith in the Savior's plan for herself and her family.  Her sweet son is now in the arms of the Savior.  Find out what she learned "Even If It Was…"

"When my precious foster baby, whom we had hoped to adopt, passed away in his sleep, I braced myself for accusations.  I practiced them in my head. Someone would accuse me of being careless or neglectful.  Another would question my ability to parent. The imagined mob was merciless, armed with stones, shouting their self-righteous censure.  Every time I repeated my account of finding him in his cradle, so unnaturally still, to a detective or someone from child protective services, I felt as though the events of the day put me at their mercy to condemn.

They didn’t accuse me.

The detectives took his cradle and all his bedding. They took his remaining medication.  They took his half empty bottle I hadn’t rinsed out yet.  They took the open can of formula.  He was gone and they collected much of the evidence that he had lived. They left silently.  I felt vacant in their wake…" (to read the full story, visit "Practicing Perfection)