One. My coworker and I always tried for the same seats on the first level balcony overlooking the stage. Every summer at BYU, the Tuesday Morning devotionals were moved from the large Marriott Center to the much smaller De Jong Concert Hall. And the best part about being a full-time BYU employee is that you get paid to attend. That meant we’d both take a book we were reading and get through a couple pages before the speaker began, or else one of us might take a little nap through the whole thing– which was my preference. One of these Tuesday mornings, when we’d gotten the seats nearest the edge of the balcony, I noticed that one of the men sitting on the stage below was looking up at me. I thought maybe I was wrong at first, but every time I looked down, I’d watch his head move away from the speaker and back up at me. Typical of the girl that I am, I went through various possibilities: was I weird looking? Was I pretty? Did he think he recognized me? Did I know him? I did