Leave it to Mike Stewart

Thirty something years ago, my Dad suddenly passed away. John and I drove up from Utah. Mary and Doug flew in from Seattle with their six month old sold, Mike. Since Mike was a baby, he got to fly for free, but not five year old, Tracina. She stayed behind with family in Portland or friends in Olympia, Washington. Since Mary and her family flew in on the night of Dad’s viewing, I got to drive to Twin Falls, Idaho to pick them up, which was thirty miles from Burley. When we got to Payne Mortuary, Mary sat Mike down and immediately he starts moving and smiling at everyone. Our neighbor and former bishop, Lowell Maughan and his wife, Mary smiled back as did any other visitors who were still there. Laura said on the way from the viewing that no one had smiled before Baby Mike arrived. Using his own innocent charm, he changed the somber mood into a more cheerful countenance.
After the funeral in Paul, Idaho, we drove to Manassa Colorado for another funeral and to bury my Dad where he was born and raised. On the way, we stopped at one of my Tracy cousins to spend the night. The next morning at breakfast, someone gave Baby Mike a dill pickle. To everyone’s surprise, Mike sucked on that pickle like it was one of his bottles. Again, Mike was bringing cheer into a dreary event.
Later that night, we pulled in Uncle Kelland and Aunt Wilma’s house outside, LaJara, Colorado. While I was in bathroom getting dressed after my shower, I could hear the piano playing. Then it got louder. I walked out into the living room to see my nephew sitting on my Mom’s lap at the piano. Mike was banging away at keys like only a six month old could. And he was grinning from ear to ear and his audience was smiling. Little Mike knew when to entertain. I doubt that Mike knew that he was performing acts of service. Thirty two years later, I am glad that he flew free. Thank you, Mike Stewart, for bringing cheer to our family when we needed it the most.