When Melissa Phelps bought her house in Daniel with her former husband in 2001, it was in rough shape. Daylight filtered through the walls of its single bathroom, and the structure wasn’t even sitting on a foundation.
“I remember we came to just look around the property, and my husband’s foot went through the bridge that goes over the stream,” Phelps recalled.
The 1,200-square-foot home was built in the 1890s. Although it was being held together by Band-Aid fixes, it was affordable. So, the Phelps family bought it.
Phelps raised her four children in that home.
The youngest, 11-year-old Verity, was diagnosed with epilepsy in first grade. She regularly has absence seizures, which, from the outside, look as if the person experiencing them is staring off into space.
In January 2024, the attacks worsened. Phelps said Verity was “like a robot,” constantly out of it and giving one-word responses.
A pediatrician explained that Verity was having back-to-back seizures. Prescribed medication worked for a time. But by the start of that summer, Verity’s symptoms worsened again.
In September, Verity was rushed to the emergency room for sepsis, the body’s extreme response to an infection, but just what had caused the infection remained a mystery. Phelps took her daughter to specialist after specialist who couldn’t explain the cause of her health issues.
In July 2025, Phelps noticed that Verity’s symptoms had lessened during a family trip to Florida. She realized Verity’s health problems must have been connected with the house they were living in.
There had been no visible signs of mold in the house. But upon further inspection, Phelps found mold under the floor and in the roof. Phelps moved in with her parents in Midway as she resolved to redo the floor and roof herself with the help of YouTube tutorials.
When Phelps mentioned her problem to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints Bishop Justin Goodrich, he connected her with local plumber J.R. Coleman. Coleman assessed that it would cost more to mitigate the mold than it would to build a new house entirely.
“(Goodrich) said, ‘I don’t want to step on any toes here, but would you let us just tear your house down and build you a new one?’” Phelps recalled. “I’m stubbornly independent, and so I swallowed my pride, and I finally said, ‘You know, if God’s going to try this hard to bless me, I’m not going to stand in his way.’”
Goodrich organized an effort to demolish Phelps’ home and design and build a new one in its place. Fellow church members and the broader community have pitched in labor and funds, including an anonymous donor who will be paying off Phelps’ current mortgage.
Jason Grant, a general contractor who has helped design Phelps’ new home, described his neighbor of over 12 years as “one of the most Christlike people I’ve ever met.”
“She would do anything for you. You would never know if she was in a bad mood because she just seems like the happiest lady in the world,” he said.
Phelps currently works as a teacher at the Heber City location of Sunshine Square Preschool. The series of preschools was founded by Phelps’ mother, Susie Anderson.
When she was younger, Phelps, insisting that she wouldn’t become her mother, graduated with a bachelor’s degree in business from Utah State University. But the teaching itch must have been genetic: Phelps ran the Heber City preschool for over 20 years. She’s currently studying special education at Western Governors University and hopes to teach for the Wasatch County School District.
In 2023, Phelps took a break from the preschool to work at a credit union, but came back running.
“I felt like a part inside of me was dying. I was like, ‘Nobody’s singing songs,’” Phelps joked. “I’ve got to have children in my life. They keep me grounded. They keep me humble.”
Amy Reeves, who taught at the preschool when Phelps was principal, described her as “the kindest and most ethical person I have ever known.”
She said Phelps’ foundation was not only in academics, but in teaching children honesty and responsibility and ensuring each student felt important and loved.
Phelps’ connection with her students is evidenced by a towering, cottonless cottonwood tree on her property. She bought the sapling using a plant nursery gift card given to her by the parents of one of her students almost 20 years ago.
“Every time I look at the tree, I think of the greatness within each child,” Phelps said.
Sadly, the tree will have to be cut down when the Phelps family demolishes their home in the next few weeks. But as Phelps put it, “Change is the only path to something better.”
Although much of the home building costs have been covered through volunteer labor, community members have organized a GoFundMe to fundraise the cost of building materials and the replacement of furniture exposed to mold spores. Donations can be made at gofund.me/30ae49d1f.