Last December, right before Christmas, I ran into the Provo Deseret Book to check on a special order. A man rushed through the front doors of the store and walked quickly over to me.
"Sheri Dew!!!!" he exclaimed.
"Sorry, I'm not Sheri Dew." I replied.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"I'm sure." I answered. (trying to make him feel better I added) "But she's one of my favorite speakers/authors/former General Authorities/people in the world. Thanks for confusing me with such a great person."
"So you're not Sheri Dew.?.!" he asked/stated one last time.
"Sorry." I answered.
I guess he thought the CEO of Deseret Book was making spot checks on their stores around the state. Or maybe she was getting in a little Christmas shopping done on her trip to Provo. He seemed truly disappointed that I wasn't Sheri Dew pretending to be someone else. Maybe if he asked enough times I would confess to being Sheri Dew and offer some reason for lying the first four times he asked me my identity.
Don't get me wrong. I love Sheri Dew. She's my hero. I'm honored to be confused with her but I need to explain the similarities between me and Sheri Dew. (1) we're both tall, (2) we have shoulder length hair and (3) we're both Mormons. That's about it.
As I watch my last teenager navigate her way through high school, I am reminded of how critical it is to know who you are and what God's plan is for you.
And, no, I'm not Sheri Dew.
I'm Nancy B.
No apologies needed.
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