Sister Lori Cox was the first and last sister missionary I ever flirted with. We talked on the ride from Baton Rouge to Slidell.
Within a half hour of the delivery of my innocent, generic Valentine’s card to her, the Assistants to the President (APs) knew about it. It turned out Cox's companion called her future husband (an AP) about it.
One night as Elder lvie, Nelson and I came home, a letter with hearts on it was found in the mailbox. A letter addressed to me. It was from Sister Cox, but the return address didn't match the one I used.
I hid it from the others and read it privately. It was a song on a tiny paper.
It seemed too odd to be true. And it was. Elder Nelson had written it, everyone knew that, but I gave them no satisfaction in the joke.
Posted by Michael at April 9, 2004 06:14 PM