Let me tell you a story about a young 9-year-old girl named Heather.

Heather was born with a rare disease that left her confined to a wheelchair, and unable to speak.  She could communicate only with her eyes.  A direct gaze and a smile meant yes.  A blink meant no.

She was enrolled in a special school where a woman named Jean Ernstrom was assigned to be her teacher and therapist.  Both Heather and Jean were members of the Church.  Jean learned to communicate with Heather by asking yes-or-no questions.

One morning by asking questions, Jean learned that Heather had attended Primary the preceding weekend.  Jean sang for Heather some Primary songs.  She told Heather her favorite song was “I Wonder When He Comes Again” and she sang that song.  Jean then asked Heather if she had a favorite song.  Heather’s wide eyes, focused gaze, and a smile communicated that yes, she did.

By asking more questions, Jean learned that Heather’s song was one she had heard in Primary.  She wasn’t sure which songbook it was in, but it was about Jesus.  Jean tried singing all the songs she could think of but none of them were the right song.  The next day, Jean brought to school her Primary songbooks.  They went through all the books but did not discover Heather’s favorite.  The following day Heather came to school with the green Church hymnbook tucked in her wheelchair.  (I assume her mother had learned about the search.)  I will now continue the story quoting the words of Sister Jean Ernstrom as recorded in the June 1988 Ensign.

“I positioned myself next to [Heather] and, page by page, we made our way through. I sang the first phrase of each song, and each time Heather’s eyes closed in a definite no.  Halfway through the book, I began to sing: “There is sunshine in my soul today …” [Hymn #227]

“As if someone had stuck her with a pin, Heather jumped and smiled. Her bright eyes looked directly at me.  Together we laughed and reveled in the completion of our three-day search.  ‘OK, now we can finally sing your favorite song,’ I said.  She smiled as I sang the first verse, and as I began the chorus she mustered all the effort she could and joined in with occasional sigh-like sounds. . . .  I was so grateful I had found the song!  I asked if she wanted to hear the rest of the verses and she responded with a firm yes. Again I began:

There is music in my soul today,
A carol to my King,
And Jesus listening can hear
The songs I cannot sing …

“Heather’s reaction to that line was so strong that I stopped.  I looked at her as the reality and significance of the moment pressed on my mind. ‘Heather, is that what you like about the song?’  I asked. ‘Is that what you want me to know? That Jesus is listening, and he can hear the songs you cannot sing?’  She lifted her head and looked me straight in the eyes.  The testimony had been borne.

“Feeling guided by the Spirit, I ventured to ask, ‘Heather, does Jesus talk to you in your mind and in your heart?’ Her look was penetrating.

“Knowing her close relationship with the Spirit, there was one more thing I wanted to know.  With reverent anticipation I whispered, ‘Heather, what does he say?’. . . .  I felt that the Lord gave me the right questions to ask as I took a deep breath and proceeded. ‘Does he say “Heather, I love you?”’ Her eyes were radiant as she confirmed that statement. I paused, swallowed, and continued. ‘Does he say “Heather, you’re special”?’ Again, yes. I paused again, with a lump in my throat, and then asked, ‘Does he say, “Heather, be patient; I have great things in store for you’?’

“Heather’s head became erect; every fiber of her being seemed to be electrified as her eyes penetrated my soul. She knew she was loved. She knew she was special. She knew she only needed to be patient because great things were in store for her.

“The moment seemed too sacred for further words. I leaned forward and pressed her cheek against my own.”  (“Jesus, Listening, Can Hear” by Jean Ernstrom, June 1988 Ensign)

That was the end of the story in Sister Ernstrom’s Ensign article.  But, there is more to the story, as recounted in a talk by Elder Merrill J. Bateman of the Seventy based on conversations with the parents of Heather.  I will now quote from Elder Bateman’s talk.

[“Two years later, Heather died because of the ravages of the disease.  Her younger brother Mark also suffers from the disease but not to the extent of his older sisters.  He can talk, although it is not easy.  As the parents discussed Heather’s passing and the funeral that would take place, Mark exclaimed, ‘No go Heather’s funeral!’ Heather was his best friend. As the parents tried to explain death to him, he would not be consoled. He was crushed and did not want to attend the service. For two days he could not be persuaded.

“On the morning of the funeral, the father went to Mark’s room to get him up. As he entered the room, Mark was sitting up in bed with a big smile on his face. His first words were, ‘Dad, go Heather’s funeral!’

“The father responded, ‘Mark, what has changed your mind?’

“‘Dad, had dream.’

“‘What did you dream about, Mark?”

“‘Dad, dreamed about Heather.”

“‘Mark, what was Heather doing?”

‘Oh, Dad, Heather running and jumping and singing, ‘There is sunshine in my soul today.’ Dad, go Heather’s funeral.’” (“The Power of Hymns,” by Elder Merrill J. Bateman, from a talk at the Workshop on Church Music at Brigham Young University on 4 August 1998; also July 2001 Ensign)

This story is a powerful testimony of the resurrection.  Heather bore testimony with her eyes that God had great things in store for her, including a glorious resurrection that would provide her with a perfect, immortal body.  Her brother, Mark, obtained a testimony of the resurrection through his God-bestowed dream of a happy, mobile, and singing-with-joy Heather.