Olive Vance’s 90th birthday

One of dear ward matriarchs, Olive Vance, turned 90 years old

during COVID. We all wanted to celebrate this momentous

occasion with her but having a traditional party was not an

option.

Instead, at the appointed hour on her special day, Olive sat in

her front yard while a steady stream of cars filled with smiling

well-wishers drove past. She waved to her extensive family,

friends, and neighbors as they waved, honked, and shouted

birthday greetings. The celebration was complete with balloons

and signs.

Sister Vance is now 95 years young, as of this writing (October

2026). She keeps active working in her garden and getting in

touch with her large family — 10 children, 74 grandchildren,

136 great-grandchildren, and a couple of great-great-grandchildren soon to come.

If the Savior Came to Our Sacrament Meeting — Marianne McKnight

August 2026

Yesterday, I had the sweetest experience as I sat in the chapel, waiting for sacrament

meeting to begin. As my husband and I sat in our usual place in the back, I watched our

dear brothers and sisters and their families come in. The thought occurred to me, what if

Jesus was with us today in our sacrament meeting? The thought caught me off guard at

first, but then I began to think about it.

Would He be pleased with our efforts to minister, to do our callings, to greet each other?

If He was here with us, what would He do? I’m sure that He would be mindful of each

person in that chapel . . . and with each of those who weren’t. There would be no

“invisible” people, ones who sit by themselves whom no one acknowledges.

This little experience made such an impact on me that this morning as I went on my

walk along the bike trail at the foot of beautiful Maple Mountain, I continued my

pondering.

When Jesus entered the chapel, where would He sit? Maybe not necessarily up on the

stand. Maybe He would choose to be seated next that someone alone on the pew.

Maybe He would sit in the back, like us, to watch people enter — you can tell so much

about a person as he or she enters the chapel.

What if He chose to dress in a suit and tie, and a modern haircut? Would I still

recognize Him? I feel my spirit would immediately recognize Him when He entered the

room, just as it does when the Prophet enters a room.

Then I wondered what it would be like to have Him greet me. He would take my hand in

both of His and would look intently at me, to my very soul, with unconditional love and

compassion. I’m sure tears would fill my eyes as I bowed my head to look at His hands,

clasped in mine. I would see the wounds in His palms and in His wrists. And I would

drop to my knees in profound reverence.

Might He join the deacons in passing the sacrament, His sacrament? And what would

that be like to partake of His emblems from Him who paid that great Sacrifice? Now,

there’s a thought to ponder during the sacrament!

If Jesus was in attendance at our sacrament meeting, would the meeting be conducted

any differently? Would the speakers have to scurry to rearrange their talks to be

centered on the Savior? What would our reverence be like? Would cell phones remain

out of sight?

And how would we sing?! Wow! I think we sing pretty magnificently as a congregation

now, but if the Savior was present, our voices would surely lift to the heavens in glorious

praise and honor to the King!

And how would the Savior spend the second hour? I’m sure He would be with the

Primary children. He’d probably be sitting on the front row with some of his youngest

disciples. Maybe He’d share one of His parables with the children. And then, He would

invite each child to come to Him, one at a time, and He would embrace that child and

He would minister to the one.

And then assuredly He would spend time with the mighty youth . . . and He would do the

same thing with them. He would teach, He would invite, He would minister, and He

would love

What it would be like to have the Savior of the World attend our Sunday meetings?

Bodhi and his annual bake sale — the Karl and Jayci Allan family

By Jayci Allan

October 12, 2026

Our annual Bodhi bake sale is a way for us to honor our sweet son, remember his life, and help

others through donations to the missionary fund. Bodhi loved to share the gospel and looked

forward to one day serving a mission. What began with the Jolley family’s idea and a few pans

of brownies has become a tradition that means so much to our family.

Our precious Love Bug, Bodhi Crapo Allan, was born on April 13, 2012, in Orem, Utah, and

returned to his Heavenly Father on February 3, 2017. He was four, just a little over two months

away from his fifth birthday.

Bodhi was so gentle, kind, and just so good and well behaved. He was a precocious, witty, wise,

joyful child. Our pediatrician would tell us that talking to Bodhi was like talking to a colleague.

He had the vocabulary of an adult, and it was a joy to listen to his stories. He made friends so

easily and had friends of all ages.

His name, Bodhi, means “awakened” or “enlightenment,” and he truly was a light to everyone.

He brought so much joy and laughter to our lives.

Bodhi would remind us that the Holy Ghost couldn’t be in our home if we were arguing. He

wanted his own temple recommend so badly that we found one online, printed it out, and

laminated it for him. When he was around three, he wanted a saying above his bed that read,

“A missionary is someone who leaves his family for two years so others can be with their

families forever.” One of his favorite lines from a Primary song was, “I want to tell my friends

about the church, and the happiness it brings to me.”

He loved anything electronic or robotic, especially robot vacuums and WowWee robots. He

loved sensors, motherboards, our security system, and anything electrical. He once said, “Mom,

I’m an electronics guy.”

He was a very curious kid and loved to build with his Legos and random parts from anything

electronic that broke. He once hammered apart an old vacuum and was just waiting for our hair

dryer to go out. He even built an air conditioner out of computer parts that we hot glued to the

side of our house. He loved watching videos about pasta makers, fog machines, and especially

robot vacuums. He didn’t care what language the videos were in as long as they were talking

about a vacuum.

He loved robot vacuums so much that we got him a Neato for Christmas when he was three. It

was a pretty expensive purchase, and he knew exactly which one he wanted. Karl decided he

should research it first and realized that Bodhi really knew what he was talking about. He had

picked one of the best ones on the market! We still have it. When he was four, he really wanted

a robot mop, but he also wanted a scooter, and we had such a hard time deciding which to get

him. Do you get a four-year-old a mop for Christmas?

Bodhi loved to cook with me and make his own “cooking inventions.” He would follow Karl

around to help fix anything around the house. He was such a good big brother and was so

loving with Reese. They loved to play, swim, build forts, and dance together.

I was the Primary chorister for the last year or so of Bodhi’s life, which we feel was such a

blessing. One day in Primary, they were talking about trials, and a member of the Primary

presidency asked what was something hard. Bodhi raised his hand and said, “Vacuuming with a

Dyson!”

Bodhi had severe cold-induced asthma. His first severe asthma attack happened when he was

about 16 months old, and his next one was at 18 months. The ER doctors said it was about as

bad as you would ever want to see it. It was very serious and scary. At 18 months, we started

steroid treatments with a mask twice a day. Each treatment took about 15–20 minutes. His

asthma was triggered by colds, so when he got a cold, we had to double his steroid treatments

and add a rescue treatment. Sometimes the treatments would take as long as 40 minutes. We

read to him a whole lot during that time. We were so excited that he seemed to be starting to

grow out of it and was down to one treatment a day when he passed away.

I feel as though I was being prepared through different thoughts and feelings I had throughout

his life. When he was a baby, he was just so good. My mom would say it worried her that he

was so good because she was afraid he would be taken home early. That would make me so

angry, partly because I had already been having those same thoughts and feelings and didn’t

like someone voicing them.

I remember conversations about things we felt we couldn’t handle. I felt like I was almost

pleading with God, telling Him, “I can’t go through that. Please don’t take him.”

We were also trying to decide whether to try for a third child. We have to do fertility

treatments to get pregnant, and going through more treatments seemed so overwhelming. One

day, while sitting in sacrament meeting and thinking about what we should do, I had the

thought, “But if we don’t, Reese will be an only child.” Then I thought, “Wait—why would I

think that? She has Bodhi.”

A week before Bodhi passed away, we attended Karl’s aunt’s funeral. At the graveside, Bodhi

told us he wanted all of us to be buried together. We told him, “Of course we can do that!” We

didn’t think too much about it until a week later. He wasn’t even five yet.

Karl and I were heading to Hawaii for a trip with his work, and Karl’s mom, Nancy, was watching

the kids. Our flight was early, so we dropped them off the night before. We got them settled,

gave hugs and kisses, said our “I love yous,” and then realized we had forgotten Bodhi’s asthma

medicine. We ran home to get it, went back, and did our goodbyes all over again. We were able

to have two big send-offs.

When we were almost to the airport, I had a feeling I couldn’t quite explain. I wondered if we

should turn around or if something bad was going to happen to Karl and me, but that didn’t

seem to be it. The feeling was different, and I didn’t say anything to Karl.

A few days later, on Friday, February 3, we had been at the beach and then headed to an

outdoor restaurant with some friends. While we were waiting for our food, we got a call from

our brother-in-law. He had the horrible task of telling us that our sweet Bodhi had passed away.

Bodhi passed away in the bathtub, but he didn’t drown. His heart simply stopped. They did

everything they could to bring him back, but nothing worked. An autopsy and further testing

couldn’t find a cause of death. Our pediatrician, who is also a family friend, read through

everything and said it was all normal. For us, that has always brought comfort because it

strengthens our belief that it was simply his time.

While we were preparing for the funeral, I was at the mortuary writing Bodhi’s obituary. At the

same time, friends were reaching out, wanting to set up funds to help us with funeral costs. But

that didn’t feel right to us. We felt Bodhi’s sweet spirit around us and felt strongly that, instead

of donations to our family, we wanted people to donate to their local ward missionary fund in

his name. We included that request in his obituary.

So many people reached out to tell us they had donated to their local wards. Several of my

colleagues who weren’t members of the Church still found out how to donate to the missionary

fund.

Bodhi’s funeral was packed, and the Spirit and love were tangible. Our stake president at the

time, who was a family friend and had served with Karl on his mission, had a missionary badge

made for us.

Bodhi’s fifth birthday was just a little over two months after he passed away. We wanted to do

something to honor him, but we were overwhelmed and still so much in the depths of grief.

That is when our wonderful neighbors and dear friends, the Jolley family, started the Bodhi

bake sale. Erin Jolley had even babysat Bodhi and Reese for over a year. The Jolley kids came up

with the idea to have a bake sale and donate everything they made to the missionary fund. Erin

said, “Well, I guess I can make up a few pans of brownies.” And there the tradition started.

The missionary fund has continued to mean so much to us, and we have also seen how Bodhi’s

influence has reached people we love.

Karl’s brother Howard and his wife, Katie (his girlfriend at the time), came from Wisconsin for

Bodhi’s funeral. Howard hadn’t been active in the Church for over 30 years. Katie wasn’t a

member and had never met Bodhi. At the luncheon, she told us the funeral was different from

any other she had attended and that it was so full of hope. She said she was interested in

talking to the missionaries but asked us not to tell Howard.

We were so happy to hear that, but we didn’t do anything with the information at the time.

Howard had strong feelings against the Church, and we didn’t want to upset him or make those

feelings worse. Two years later, Howard and Katie came for a visit. They had been attending

Bible classes and had questions about the Church. We were so happy to sit around our table

and answer their questions.

Katie was baptized on February 1, 2020, almost three years to the day after Bodhi passed away.

She told us that even though she had never met Bodhi, she knew him because he had been by

her side throughout the entire process. Since then, Howard and Katie have gone through the

temple and been sealed together.

When Bodhi passed away, we thought being a missionary on the other side meant teaching

your ancestors and those in spirit prison. We have come to believe that they can also influence

those here on earth in ways we can’t.

We have now held 10 Bodhi bake sales and raised a total of $22,555.10 for the missionary fund.

Our hope it to keep the annual bake sale going as long as possible and to fund as many missions

as possible.

I appreciate all the help the Jolley family continues to offer us and all the help and support from

our ward. Over the years, the bake sale has become a mix of family, old ward friends, and our

Mapleton 26th ward family. It means so much to have everyone come together to remember

Bodhi and help others.

I also love how much Reese and Gage enjoy helping and participating. Reese has started making

bracelets to sell at the bake sale, and this past year, Gage started making bookmarks to sell. I

love seeing them find their own ways to contribute.

We really appreciate everyone’s love and support. We love that we can remember Bodhi in this

way, carry on a tradition that the Jolley family started for us, and help those around us. We

miss our sweet Bodhi dearly and look forward to the sweet reunion we will have with him. We

know our separation is only temporary, and we are so grateful for eternal families.