Imagine you are someone's shadow for the day...

He walks to the edge of trees, taking one last glance over his shoulder before he goes. His family's cabin sits on a hill not far away. The leftover smoke from the fire lifts into the sky on a gentle breeze. I can still smell that smoke in the air, on his clothes. The scratchy wool jacket he wears over his threadbare cotton shirt, itches at his skin, making it red. He pulls at the collar.
The dead grasses from last fall pull at his boots as he steps over fallen branches and scrub. They rejoice in the lightness of the air, quite the contrast to the heavy snow that's plagued them all year. Tiny green shoots spring forth at their base, a hope and promise of spring.
Birds fill the forest with song. Each of them dancing to their own tune. Bringing their own personality into the world. Their wings cast shadows through the sunlit branches, still bare. He looks up as if he's admiring the different colored wings. They seem to follow him, as if they know what serious journey he is on.
The place isn't far. Just another stretch or so. But it's been a few weeks since he's visited. The place he's designed to go for some time now. He's been waiting for the right time. For the courage. For the feeling inside his chest to let him know that it's time. And this morning, he knew, with every fiber of his being, he knew that today, he would walk into the forest and ask God a simple question that held the most importance.
He recites the scripture, James 1:5, aloud. "If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him."
Never had any passage of scripture pierced his heart like that scripture. For how to act, he did not know. And as for wisdom, he knew he lacked, as uneducated as he was. So he decided to do as the scripture foretold, that is, ask of God.
Which brings him to this place. This forest, in upstate New York.
His pants are sticking to his legs by the time he reaches his destination. The wet dew has crawled up his legs. He rubs his hands down his arms and lets out a breath. It becomes a white puff with the chill.
The forest is alive with life, but there's a feeling, an energy, like it's holding its breath, waiting for him to kneel and ask his question.
His knees become instantly soaked as they hit the almost frozen ground. He removes his wool cap and twists it in his hands. A restless weight hangs in the air. Taking a moment to collect himself, he closes his eyes and counts to ten. The forest stills, quiets. In the back of my head, I feel a warning. But he must ask the question.
"Dear God," he begins his prayer. His words shake. His voice scratchy. Never before has he prayed vocally, and the moment is recorded in heaven.
I'm crippled. My body being ripped from limb to limb. Torment, unlike any I've known tears through my chest. I've lost my grip on reality. On myself. I can't even recall my name.
His body hits the earth with a thud.
It's a dull recollection compared to the overwhelming dark power I'm feeling inside. Fear deeper than the ocean's valleys. Pain stronger than human can bear. Hate, so bitter I can taste it. Or is that blood from biting my tongue? I struggle to grasp my thoughts. Any thought. But the power  holds me captive, bending my body in on itself. I wrestle with the darkness, trying to see, but even the forest has silenced, darkened beyond sight. What being wields this darkness? This power? How can one so evil exist?
I pry my eyes open and see that he appears to be wrestling the same darkness. For his muscles bulge at his neck. His fingers look like claws. And one hand wraps around his leg like he's trying to still a wild bull.
"Please God," he murmurs. Struggling to get the words to emerge. "Please, help me."
A pillar light so bright that it defies the sun, shatters the darkness.
His body sags in sudden relief.
The pain and anguish, suffering is gone. I'd forgotten what it felt like to feel whole. How good. Blissful, even. My body sighs in relief.
He lifts an arm to shield his eyes, for the light is blinding, then rises to look up.
Standing before him in the air are two personages, dressed in white. Their brightness and glory defy all description.
I squint against the light, trying to focus my eyes. My body is bathed in warmth. Surrounded by a tangible blanket of love and acceptance.
"Joseph," one of the men calls him by name, pointing to the other. "This is My Beloved Son. Hear him."
The boy gathers himself. So astonished by the look on his face, that he has to take a deep breath, but then words tumble out of his mouth.
"Which of the religious sects is right, so that I might know which one to join?"
The Son, gives a perceptible shake of his head before he answers. "You must join none of them."
Both he and I are taken back. His jaw drops, and my mind tumbles to a stop. How can it be? There are so many different religions upon the earth. One of them has to be correct.
The Son is still speaking and I struggle to keep up. "...they draw near to me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me, they teach for doctrines the commandments of men, having a form of godliness, but they deny the power thereof."
Time ceases to exist as The Son continues. So much information, I cannot contain it all.
I find myself standing over the boy, who is lying on his back, looking up into the heavens from whence the two personages came. They appear to have left, the forest alive with life, rejoicing again in the warming day. Do the animals and plants realize the importance of the event that just took place? Do I?
The boy's lips move of their own accord. He looks dazed, as if his spirit has overcome his body. I wait next to him. Wait for him to speak. To jump up and do something. For now that he has his questions answered, from God Himself, what will he do? Where will he go? Will he change the world? Will his words be believed? Will I believe?
I know that God has restored His church upon the earth, including the power to act in His name through the priesthood. It contains the fullness of the gospel. He has called prophets and apostles. He leads and guides His children through them. All we have to do, is listen. We don't need a vision. A heavenly messenger. We only need faith. Then determination to act on that faith. To follow in the Lord's footsteps. And maybe someday, we can change the world, just like this humble, innocent, 14 year old boy. If only I could be a shadow. This is an event I would love to witness.