Bishop Gardner's daughter, Rebecca, died. I don't know how. I went to the funeral, which was held in the lecture hall where I have geography and biology this semester. I sat in between Bishop Gardner and another lady that I didn't recognize, so close that I had to squeeze them apart to fit. They didn't notice me; instead, they leaned forward and talked to each other. Finally the Bishop noticed me and said, "Kristal, I'm so glad you could come," and he started crying. I put my arms around him, concentrated, and pulled some of his sadness away from his spirit and into my own. I believe I was trying to alleviate his pain by taking it onto myself, but I'm not quite sure what my motives were.
