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VOL. M NO. 1 

Lessons for April 


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Jt I ievp LJears lliessage to 
^JJoubt riot, drear Tiot 

^S 1954 begins its year's span, the general board expresses gratitude for 
the righteousness of the hves of Rehef Society members during the 
past year, and for their accomphshments not only in things of material 
value, but, above all, in the things of the spirit. Through study and faith 
and works encouraged by membership in the divinely inspired Rehef So- 
ciety, Relief Society women, reading the signs of the times, are prayerfully 
strengthening their testimonies so that their faith will sustain them, their 
hope increase and blossom into a charity which will envelop others in 
need of its healing. Known to them is the fulfillment of prophecy. In 
their hearts is a longing for the peace of the millennium; and the words 
of Tennyson, recently studied in Relief Society, find an echoing response: 

Ring out old shapes of foul disease; 
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold; 
Ring out the thousand wars of old; 
Ring in a thousand years of peace. 

Because of wickedness, most men have ceased to anticipate the mil- 
lennium. They ascribe to modern discoveries of nature's secrets, signs of 
the earth's dissolution. They deny the Maker of the worlds and his pur- 
poses, and the mission of his Son, the only name under heaven given 
among men, whereby we must be saved." Though ''heaven and earth shall 
pass away; yet my words shall not pass away, but all shall be fulfilled," the 
Lord has told the inhabitants of this earth. But having ears they hear 
not, and having eyes they see not. 

To the righteous there are comfort and everlasting joy in the words 
of the Lord. As this new year grows old, let Relief Society members 
become safe-folded in the flock of the Master, for he has promised: 'Tear 
not, little flock, do good; let earth and hell combine against you, for if 
ye are built upon my rock, they cannot prevail .... Look unto me in 
every thought; doubt not, fear not." 

This is our prayer for our sisters of Relief Society, 

Qjrora I tear and cfc 


I am deeply impressed with the amount 
of labor you have expended with the Li- 
brary of Congress and other sources to 
secure the pictures and information on 
the framers of the Constitution (October 
1953). It is a very valuable piece of 
work .... I doubt that few schoolrooms 
have, in convenient form, these pictures 
and the accompanying thumbnail sketches. 
— G. Homer Durham 

University of Utah 

Today I especially want to thank you 
for the Magazine, and for the article "The 
Renovating and Dressing of Dolls" (by 
Thelma Standering, November 1953). 
Recently I had given my four-year-old 
daughter a doll that had been mine when 
I was a small child. Well, she left it out 
in the rain last night and the doll just 
looks awful — the whole body is all bumpy. 
Well, after reading that article, I have 
hopes for this doll and two others that 
I want to fix up. So, instead of feeling 
like crying, I feel like singing. I'm not 
artistic, but I do have hopes. 

— June W. Rob ertson 
San Mateo, California 

I know that thousands of sisters must 
feel about our wonderful Magazine as I 
do. What care and good taste and dis- 
crimination you do exercise in its compila- 
tion. I am so proud to let my friends 
and sisters know how important it is to 
me. Let me call attention to page 752 
in the November issue. That little four- 
line poem by Cynthia A. Scott is well 
worth headline publication in my esti- 
mation. How carefully it is written and 
how true the message! 

— Clara Home Park 
San Mateo, California 

Roxana Famsworth Hase, long-time con- 
tributor to The Relief Society Magazine, 
has recently had her poems collected in a 
delightful anthology Delicious Lumps, 
published by Vantage Press, New York 
City. The poems are entertaining read- 
ing for the family and many of them have 
been used in plays, programs, and pag- 

Page 2 

It certainly was a thrill to the Box 
Elder Chapter of the American Associa- 
tion of Penwomen to have three of their 
five poets appear together in the Novem- 
ber Relief Society Magazine (Eleanor W. 
Schow, Maude O. Cook, and Renie H. 
Littlewood) .... Of course the poetry 
is the first thing we look for in the Maga- 
zine, but, as most of us are Relief Society 
members, we are also interested in other 
features of the Magazine and enjoy every 
bit of it. 

— Renie H. Littlewood 

Brigham City, Utah 

I am glad you editors enjoyed my poem 
"Suds" (November 1953). I tried to 
think of the most unlovely thing to me 
and write a poem about it. 

— Ivy Houtz Woolley 

Ogden, Utah 


Here's something we all love so well 
Our Magazine, dear Magazine; 

The help it gives each tongue can tell 
Our Magazine, dear Magazine. 

Wherever L. D. S. are known 
We want to find in every home 

A sister who is proud to own 
Our Magazine, dear Magazine. 

— ^Annie M. Ellsworth, President 
Central States Mission Relief Society 

(Verses may be sung to the tune "MIA, 
Our MIA") 

I should like to take this opportunity 
to tell you how much I enjoy The Reliei 
Society Magazine, especially since it is im- 
possible for me to attend Relief Society 
meetings, as we live nearly fifty miles from 
the nearest branch of the Church. The 
Magazine keeps me in touch with what 
the sisters are doing, and when we are 
in a location where I can attend the meet- 
ings, I am sure I shall feel at home. I 
enjoy all the stories in the Magazine, and 
the articles and poetry immensely. 
— Maurine B. Hansen 

Rocky Boy Agency 
Box Elder, Montana 


Monthly Publication of the Relief Society of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints 

Belle S. Spafford ------ President 

Marianne C. Sharp _____ First Counselor 

Velma N. Simonsen _ _ _ _ _ Second Counselor 

Margaret C. Pickering - _ - - - Secretary-Treasurer 

Mary G. Judd Evon W. Peterson Christine H. Robinson Charlotte A. Larsen 

Anna B. Hart Leone O. lacobs Alberta H. Christensen Edith P. Backman 

Edith S. Elhott Mary J. Wilson Nellie W. Neal Winniefred S. 

Florence J. Madsen Louise W. Madsen Mildred B. Eyring Manwaring 

Leone G. Layton Aleine M. Young Helen W. Anderson Elna P. Haymond 

Blanche B. Stoddard Josie B. Bav Gladys S. Boyer 


Editor ---_-___--- Marianne C. Sharp 

Associate Editor _____._-- Vesta P. Crawford 

General Manager _________ Belle S. Spafford 

Vol. 41 JANUARY 1954 NO. 1 



A New Year's Message to "Doubt Not, Fear Not" _ 1 

Individual Welfare in a Time of Plenty Carl W. Buehner 4 

Award Winners Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest 10 

Wings Over the West — First Prize Poem „ Lizabeth Wall Madsen 11 

A Stone in the Wilderness — Second Prize Poem Dorothy J. Roberts 12 

To Shield a King— Third Prize Poem _ Alice Morrey Bailey 13 

Biographical Sketches of Award Winners in the Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest 15 

Award Winners — Annual Relief Society Short Story Contest - 16 

One Wild Rose — First Prize Story Dorothy Clapp Robinson 17 

First Ladies of Our Land— Part III -• • Elsie C. Carroll 23 

Support the March of Dimes Basil O'Connor 31 

My Calendar „ Elsie Sim Hansen 41 

Winter Is for Mothers Lucille Waters Mattson 71 


New Year's Choice Dorothy Boys Kilian 32 

Moon Music - Louise Morris Kelley 38 

The Deeper Melody— Chapter 4 Alice Morrey Bailey 42 


From Near and Far - - 2 

Sixty Years Ago - 34 

Woman's Sphere Ramona W. Cannon 35 

Editorial: A Happier Life in the New Year Marianne C. Sharp 36 

Notes to the Field: Relief Society Assigned Evening Meeting of Fast Sunday in March 37 

Bound Volumes of 1953 Relief Society Magazines 37 

Award Subscriptions Presented in April „ _ _ 37 

Notes From the Field: Relief Society Activities - Margaret C. Pickering 48 


Melvina Bennett Clark Makes Braided Rugs _ - 47 


Theology: Righteousness and Good Government Leland H. Monson 54 

Visiting Teacher Messages: "But There Is a Resurrection, Therefore the Grave Hath 

No Victory" _ Leone O. Jacobs 58 

Work Meeting: Spending Your Home Furnishings Dollar — Soft Floor Coverings 

_ _ _ _ _ Rhea H. Gardner 59 

Literature: Robert Browning "Poet of Personality" Briant S. Jacobs 61 

Social Science: The Philadelphia Convention _ Albert R. Bowen 66 


Amateur Gardener's Reward vv^,"^,^®t Stuart Hager 22 

Uttle Girl Before the Piano - Mabel Jones Gabbott 33 

I Would Not Have You Weep ^^/\^^^®> M"^ tP?. ^ ah 

Love's Destiny _ ---Ada Mane Patten 47 

Winter Night Beatrice K. Ekman 53 

Old Year Grace Sayre bO 

Swift Sketch " 3"™"......... - — Thelma J. Lund 72 

Color Notes of Daw""""" Elsie McKinnon Strachan 72 


Editorial and Business Offices: 40 North Main, Salt Lake City 1, Utah. Phone 4-2511; Sub- 
scriptions 246; Editorial Dept. 245. Subscription Price: $1.50 a year; foreign, $2.00 a year; 
payable in advance. Single copy, 15c. The Magazine is not sent after subscription expires. No 
back numbers can be supplied. Renew promptly so that no copies will be missed. Report change 
of address at once, giving old and new address. 

Entered as second-class matter February 18, 1914, at the Post Office, Salt Lake City, Utah, under 
the Act of March 3, 1879. Acceptance for mailing at special rate of postage provided for in 
section 1103, Act of October 8, 1917, authorized June 29, 1918. Manuscripts will not be returned 
unless return postage is enclosed. Rejected manuscripts will be retained for six months only. 
The Magazine is not responsible for unsolicited manuscripts. 

Individual Welfare in a 
Time of Plenty 

Bishop Cad W. Buehnei 
Of the Presiding Bishopric 

[Address Delivered at the Annual General Relief Society Conference, 

September 30, 1953] 

IT is a most inspiring experience 
to be here this morning with 
the leaders of the great Rehef 
Society organization from all over 
the Church. If my arithmetic is 
correct, over ninety-nine per cent 
of all the stakes are represented 
here this morning, and I think I 
saw one sister stand up who is here 
from New Zealand. I have a great 
love for New Zealand after the two 
weeks I spent there. This is mar- 
velous. I have learned to love your 
Relief Society presidency more than 
I will ever be able to tell you. They 
are great leaders, very inspiring lead- 
ers, and I am sure that the affairs 
of the Relief Society are in wonder- 
ful hands. 

If I am a little nervous this 
morning, it is because I am not 
accustomed to speaking to such a 
large conference of women. You 
look like a beautiful flower gar- 
den. I feel like the counselor 
recently conducting a quarterly 
conference. The stake president, we 
learned, was in the hospital with a 
very serious operation, and the 
counselor was a little nervous, too. 
During the course of the meeting 
he said, ''Our choir will now sing 
'Let the Mountains Shake for Joy.' " 
You understand what I mean. 

It was wonderful to hear Sister 
Spafford's report of the accomplish- 
ments of this great organization— 
to witness the roll call this morn- 
ing. It is tremendously interesting 
Page 4 

to sit on the stand, and observe sis- 
ters standing up in large groups, 
representing the stakes from all over 
the Church. I enjoyed the wonder- 
ful report of Sister Wright, Sister 
Stoddard's very excellent talk, and 
the beautiful music. It is just a 
real thrill to be with you in con- 
ference this morning. 

I have been assigned a welfare 
subject to discuss with you. This 
may bring you out of the clouds 
and back down to earth, but I know 
of no subject more interesting to 
all of us than our security. I have 
a great love for the Welfare Pro- 
gram, and have heard some out- 
standing testimonies of its applica- 
tion to members of the Church. I 
am sold on it all the way. Inside 
the covers of the little blue Wel- 
fare handbook, we have, in my 
opinion, the greatest security pro- 
gram that man has ever seen. It 
should be so, for it is the Lord's 
program of taking care of his chil- 
dren. I sincerely hope we appreci- 
ate it and do something about it. 

The subject I am to discuss this 
morning is "Individual Welfare in 
a Time of Plenty." This indicates 
we may not have taken advantage 
of the good years we have enjoyed 
to prepare ourselves for the time of 
need. I would like to make one or 
two observations relative to the 
program that may present a little 
different approach from the man- 
ner in which it has been presented 


to US in the past. That which will 
be discussed, I am sure, will not 
reveal anything new, but I trust will 
be helpful in seeing our problem. 

'^UMBER one is that Hterally we 
are all welfare cases. I assume 
we have not thought of the prob- 
lem in this way, but most of our 
time, our energy, and our money 
is spent to take care of the physical 
comforts of the body. This does 
not infer that we must ask anyone 
for assistance, but certainly, all we 
work for, and the result of our la- 
bor are largely required to take care 
of our physical comforts. I have 
often thought of the many things 
we could do with the money we 
could have were it not all required 
for this purpose. Think of our 
physical condition for a moment. 
If we are sick, we want to get well. 
If we are hungry, we want to eat. 
When we get too warm, we want 
to get cool. When we are too cold, 
we want to get warm. Besides this, 
we need clothing, shelter, and the 
many other comforts our body re- 
quires. This is what commands a 
great deal of our effort, our energy, 
our time, and our finances. 

The second observation I should 
like to make is that there is little 
difference between those of us who 
seem to have all we need and those 
in need of assistance. So many 
things can happen so swiftly to 
change our situation from one of 
comparative comfort to one of dis- 
tress. I am thinking of drouth, 
frost, floods, famine, fires, strikes, 
illness, and other circumstances 
that come quickly to cause us dis- 
tress, and prevent us from earning 
our normal livelihood. As an ex- 
ample, just recently I was in a stake 
where the major income in the 

community is derived from the pro- 
duction of fruit. While there, we 
inspected the bishop's storehouse, 
and discovered no fruit for distribu- 
tion. This was in the peak of the 
fruit season, and some people were 
complaining because of the absence 
of fruit in the storehouse. After a 
little investigation, we said, 'Took 
at all the orchards here and the im- 
mense production of fruit in this 
area. Certainly this is one thing 
the storehouse ought to be filled 
with." "Ah," but they said, "we had 
a very severe frost this spring, and 
we have little or no fruit in our en- 
tire area." This has caused a hard- 
ship on this community, and many 
individuals depending on their fruit 
crop for their income and to make 
payments on their farms will be in 
difficulty this year. Besides this, 
many will not have fruit in their 
cellars or canned fruit on their 
shelves because of the loss of the 
fruit crop. It might even be pos- 
sible that some might have property 
in jeopardy because of the loss of 
income through this severe frost. 

In some other areas, crops have 
dried up for lack of moisture. The 
land has been unable to produce 
because water has been so scarce. 
Then we have the extreme where 
there is too much water, where 
floods have raised havoc with farms 
and homes. It is not an uncommon 
thing to pick up a newspaper and 
to see where the ravage of fire has 
destroyed the possessions of a fam- 
ily or a group of families. Usually 
you see members of the family 
standing at the side of the ruins, 
and read that everything they pos- 
sessed has been destroyed. In many 
of these cases, some agency of the 
Welfare Program has come to their 
rescue to assist them in getting back 


on their feet. This might be the 
Priesthood quorum, a ward organ- 
ization, or friends or relatives of the 
family. We cannot hide the fact 
that the desire of all of us is secur- 
ity, and so we want to be healthy, 
we want to be employed, and we 
should like to be able to take care 
of ourselves and our families. It, 
therefore, becomes a very important 
part of the Welfare Program to fol- 
low the counsel of the leaders of 
the Church, and to prepare in a 
time of plenty for a time of need 
which may overtake us sooner than 
we had planned. To do this insures 
us of a carry-over in any critical pe- 
riod that might confront us. 

COME of us heard the President 
of the Church a few days ago 
say that we are living in the most 
critical period in the history of the 
world. This being true, we had bet- 
ter take stock of ourselves, our re- 
sources, and check the year's supply 
we have been asked to acquire, and 
see if we are prepared should trag- 
edy strike. Certainly, as we are con- 
fronted by these critical times, we 
should listen to the voice of warn- 
ing that has come from our proph- 
et, and prepare ourselves against 
any emergency that might arise. We 
are blessed above all other people 
in that we have a prophet to point 
the way before us. 

Some time ago I had the experi- 
ence of presiding over the Salt Lake 
Region, known to most of us as 
Welfare Square in Salt Lake City. 
We had many experiences which 
indicated the need for preparation. 
I recall a strike being called in one 
of the large industries west of Salt 
Lake City, which placed 6,000 men 
out of employment. The strike con- 
tinued for a period of six months. 

and during its course, it became 
necessary for our region to take care 
of thousands of families whose in- 
come had been stopped as a result 
of this strike. Had these families 
listened to the counsel given 
through the Welfare Program, they 
would have been able to provide 
for themselves during this emergen- 
cy, but like most of us, there is a 
general feeling that when times are 
good there is no need to prepare 
for a day in the future. I am sure 
many of those caught in this situa- 
tion have come to realize the im- 
portance of following the instruc- 
tions of the Welfare Program. Pres- 
ently, some people in other indus- 
tries are having some difficulty. The 
livestock industry has had some de- 
cline in prices. I am acquainted 
with a man who a short time ago 
was worth at least half a million 
dollars, and who in the last thirty 
days has lost all, even his own 
home. There are many others in 

I have observed that many prob- 
lems are coming to the attention 
of the General Welfare Committee, 
problems concerning the saving of 
the business of some brother. It 
is not the purpose of the Welfare 
Program to rescue men who are 
failing in business, but to see that 
those who are in distress are sup- 
plied with food, clothing, shelter, 
and the everyday necessities of life. 
So, we emphasize again the import- 
ance of listening to the counsel of 
our leaders, that we provide as far 
as possible enough of the necessi- 
ties of life to provide for ourselves 
in an emergency. 

npHE question is often asked, 

"What shall we store?" Because 

of our scattered situation, and the 


varied climate that we represent, it 
is difficult to indicate item by item 
what should be stored; but here 
are some suggestions that might be 
helpful to all of us. Think back 
to the days of rationing during 
World War 11. What were the 
difficult items to secure on your ra- 
tion cards? I remember shoes were 
difficult to obtain. Soap was a very 
difficult item. Persons receiving 
welfare assistance had more soap 
than those not on the Welfare Pro- 
gram because we had a soap factory, 
and were producing soap for our 
own storehouses. Sugar was a very 
scarce item, and that is easy to 
store. Fats are always very diffi- 
cult to get in time of emergency. 
Meat was in very short supply. It 
may be well to get a few cans of 
meat or fish, and it might be pos- 
sible for you to can some of your 
own that you might have some in 
reserve. Some items of clothing 
were very difficult to obtain. Styles 
may change, but we can always ac- 
quire some cloth, and have it in our 
homes from which to make items of 
clothing necessary to keep the fam- 
ily warm. Paper products were 
very scarce, and many other items, 
such as bread. One of the easiest 
commodities to store and one which 
has the greatest value for all of us, 
"Wheat for Man," the Word of 
Wisdom says. Through the coun- 
sel of your county agricultural 
agents, you can secure the right type 
of wheat, place it in a tight con- 
tainer, and keep it for a long period 
of time. I am also thinking of re- 
pairs and maintenance to your 
home. Do you remember how 
many items were almost impossible 
to secure during the period of the 
war, such as plumbing fittings, 

valves, and items with which to fix 
leaky pipes? It was difficult even to 
secure nails to repair a roof and a 
part of the barn. All metal items 
were very critical. I think I would 
keep my home in good repair. 

You women exercise a great in- 
fluence on your husbands. I have 
learned long ago that if we want a 
good work done in the Welfare 
Program, the assistance of women 
usually spells success for the pro- 
gram. Talking these problems over 
with your husbands usually will 
bring results and avoid serious dif- 

If members of a ward become en- 
thusiastic about the possibilities of 
providing against a rainy day, it can 
become very contagious, and oth- 
ers, through example, will desire to 
do the same thing. 

I recall buying thirty cans of 
wheat in 1944, and placing them in 
my garage. My neighbor, a high 
councilman who lived across the 
street, came over daily to look at my 
stock of wheat. He eventually al- 
most made my life miserable be- 
cause he wanted to acquire part of 
my wheat storage supply. In order 
to have peace, I finally sold him 
part of my wheat. Even though I 
am engaged in the wheat business, 
and we have thousands of bushels 
of grain in our elevators all the 
time, I still feel very secure to have 
wheat of my own in my own cans 
at my own home. I look at it once 
in a while, and from all appear- 
ances, it is just as good as when I 
bought it in 1944. So I say again, 
wheat can be kept for a long time. 

I recently attended a quarterly 
conference with Brother Walter 
Stover, who you remember was the 
president of the East German Mis- 


sion during very difficult times fol- 
lowing the war. We sent large 
quantities of welfare commodities 
to him, and he indicated the great 
blessing that came to those people 
through this help from the Welfare 
at the headquarters of the Church. 
He was particularly overjoyed at the 
wheat that was sent. He discovered 
how these people ground it, how 
they cooked it for cereal, and baked 
it for bread. He indicated they 
could eat it in the morning, they 
could eat it for dinner, and they 
could eat it in the evening because 
it had the elements to sustain life. 
He suggested that you would be 
surprised what wonderful hamburg- 
ers you can make from ground 
wheat and what a substantial item 
wheat is, around which you can pro- 
vide a nourishing food diet. 

OESIDES the items mentioned, 
we can always have fruit and 
vegetables. Wherever possible, we 
should have a garden. Let's plant 
and produce that which we can, 
and then let's conserve the surplus. 
Continuing his talk in this same 
conference, Brother Stover said, 
''We have a lovely garden in our 
back yard. My wife does all the 
gardening. She raises the entire 
crop, and because it cannot all be 
consumed at the time it is ready, 
she urged me to build a little root 
cellar. I said to her, 'Mama, we 
don't need a root cellar for just you 
and me— we don't eat that much,' 
but my wife is very conservative. 
She just won't waste anything. If 
she cooks a little stew for dinner, 
we have stew every meal until that 
stew is eaten up. She won't waste 
any good food, and neither did she 
wish to waste any of the vegetables 
in this garden. I protested the 

building of a root cellar, but one 
night when I came home, lo and 
behold, right in the middle of my 
garden she had dug a large hole. 
She secured a few boards, and im- 
provised a roof over this opening, 
and about that time I decided I had 
better wake up to what was going 
on, so I got Mama some bricks to 
line the root cellar, and I helped her 
finish the job. I feel much more 
secure with a root cellar full of fine 
vegetables than I did to have them 
on top of the ground where some 
of them might be frozen, some 
might decay, and where we certain- 
ly would lose the value we had from 
raising this garden." 

I should like to read you a few 
excerpts from a talk given by Presi- 
dent J. Reuben Clark, Jr., in April 
1937. As I have read this talk, and 
realized the condition in which we 
find ourselves, I have thought many 
times how true the scripture is that 
says, "We have ears, but we hear 
not." We have enjoyed the train- 
ing of this program for a long time. 
President Clark was referring to the 
difficult situation confronting us in 
the United States. This is what he 
had to say: 

What may we as a people and as in- 
dividuals do for ourselves to prepare to 
meet this oncoming disaster, which God 
in his wisdom may not turn aside from 

First, and above and beyond everything 
else, let us live righteously, fearing God 
and keeping His commandments, that we 
may in part claim His blessings as of 
right, and not as of mercy only. Along 
this way only lies happiness and salvation. 
For the Lord has said: "Wherefore, fear 
not even unto death; for in this world 
your joy is not full . . . Therefore care 
not for the body, neither the life of the 
body; but care for the soul, and for the 
life of the soul. 

"And seek the face of the Lord always, 
that in patience ye may possess your souls, 


and ye shall have eternal life" (Doc. & 
Gov. 101:36-38). 

Let us avoid debt as we would avoid 
a plague; where we are now in debt let 
us get out of debt; if not today, then to- 

Let us straitly and strictly liv£ within 
our incomes, and save a little. 

Let every head of every household see 
to it that he has on hand enough food 
and clothing and, where possible, fuel al- 
so, for at least a year ahead. You of small 
means put your money in foodstuffs and 
wearing apparel, not in stocks and bonds; 
you of large means will think you know 
how to care for yourselves, but I may 
venture to suggest that you do not specu- 
late. Let every head of every household 
aim to own his own home, free from 
mortgage. Let every man who has a 
garden spot, garden it; every man who 
owns a farm, farm it. 

Let us again clothe ourselves with these 
proved and sterling virtues — honesty, 
truthfulness, chastity, sobriety, temper- 
ance, industry and thrift; let us discard 
all covetousness and greed. 

TpHE past ten or twelve years have 
been very fruitful years. I guess 
we have lived on borrowed money, 
but we have all had some of that 
money. I don't know how we are 
going to pay it back, but when 
that day comes, it is not going to 
be so easy to have the things we 
have enjoyed during this period of 
prosperity. I remember so well the 
story of Joseph. There is not time 
to relate it in full. You read it in 
Genesis. You remember how that 
great leader was sent by the Pharaoh 
into Egypt during the seven good 
years to fill granaries with grain, 
and then you remember the story 
of the lean years, and how the east 
wind blew and dried up the coun- 
try. As you read the story, you can 
just feel the wind drying up the 
parched earth and consuming every- 
thing on it. It was the preparation 
in the seven good years that kept 

the people from starvation in the 
seven lean years that followed. 

Now I hope since we have a 
prophet at our head who has told 
us, instructed us, encouraged us, 
and advised us how to avoid any 
calamity of that kind, that we will 
listen to him, that we will prepare 
ourselves, not with luxuries, not 
with items that are going to spoil 
because we have an over-abundance 
of them, but with those necessities 
that will bring us over an emer- 
gency that might overcome us. If 
we do those things, the Latter-day 
Saints will have a program that will 
prove a great blessing and a pro- 
gram the like of which the rest of 
the world would like very much to 
know about and to have. Since it 
is ours and belongs to the Lord's 
people, I hope we will appreciate 
it and do all we can to prepare our- 
selves with the necessities that will 
assist us in any period of emergency 
that might arise. We can then also 
be a blessing and help to those who 
have not listened to the voice of 
our leaders. 

I bear you my testimony that I 
love this great Welfare Program 
with all my heart. I have heard 
many testimonies of how it has 
come to the rescue of the people, 
the great blessing it has been to 
them. I promise you that in the 
future there will even be greater 
blessings, if we live closer to the in- 
structions that have come to us to 
prepare ourselves. 

May the Lord help us to ap- 
preciate these great things and the 
other great programs in the Church 
for our benefit and our blessing, 
and may this great Relief Society 
organization prosper and grow, I 
humbly pray in the name of Jesus 
Christ. Amen. 

.yiward vi/inners 

ibliza ui. 0/20W [Poem (contest 

npHE Relief Society general board 
is pleased to announce the 
names of the three prize winners in 
the 1953 Ehza R. Snow Poem Con- 
test. This contest was announced 
in the June 1953 issue of the Maga- 
zine, and closed September 15, 


The first prize of twenty-five dol- 
lars is awarded to Lizabeth Wall 
Madsen, Salt Lake City, Utah, for 
her poem ''Wings Over the West." 
The second prize of twenty dollars 
is awarded to Dorothy J. Roberts, 
Salt Lake City, for her poem ''A 
Stone in the Wilderness." The 
third prize of fifteen dollars is 
awarded to Alice Morrey Bailey, 
Salt Lake City, for her poem 'To 
Shield a King." 

This poem contest has been con- 
ducted annually by the Relief So- 
ciety general board since 1924, in 
honor of Eliza R. Snow, second 
general president of Relief Society, 
a gifted poet and beloved leader. 

The contest is open to all Latter- 
day Saint women, and is designed to 
encourage poetry writing, and to in- 
crease appreciation for creative 
writing and the beauty and value of 

Prize-winning poems are the prop- 
erty of the Relief Society general 
board, and may not be used for 
publication by others except upon 
written permission of the general 
board. The general board also re- 
serves the right to publish any of 
the poems submitted, paying for 
them at the time of publication at 

Page 10 

the regular Magazine rate. A writer 
who has received the first prize for 
two consecutive years must wait two 
years before she is again eligible to 
enter the contest. 

There were one hundred ten 
poems submitted in this year's con- 
test. Many of the poems revealed 
careful technique and lovely imag- 
ery, as well as profound thought de- 

Twenty-two states were represent- 
ed in the contest entries, the larg- 
est number of entries came in or- 
der from Utah, California, Idaho, 
Kansas, Oklahoma, Wyoming, and 
Arizona. Three entries came from 
England, one from Scotland, and 
one from Argentina. 

The winner of the first prize this 
year, Mrs. Lizabeth Wall Madsen, 
was awarded second prize in the 
Ehza R. Snow Poem Contest in 
1946. Mrs. Roberts and Mrs. 
Bailey have won prizes in several 
previous contests. 

The general board congratulates 
the prize winners and expresses ap- 
preciation to all entrants for their 
interest in the contest. The gen- 
eral board wishes, also, to thank the 
judges for their care and diligence 
in selecting the prize-winning 
poems. The services of the poetry 
committee of the general board are 
very much appreciated. 

The prize-winning poems, togeth- 
er with photographs and biograph- 
ical sketches of the prize-winning 
contestants, are published herewith. 

irrize- Vi/inrnnq LPoems 

(biiza Uioxeu Snow /Jiemorml iPoem Contest 



First Prize Poem 

Vi/ings Gyve/* the V(/est 

Lizabeth Wall Madsen 

The wheeling arcs of gulls have etched the storm 
With slender, silver patterns of their flying. 
Curved to the wind and strangers to the warm 
Far earth, they seek a new horizon, crying. 
Theirs is a spiraled search, and there is more 
To weld them to the clouds than fragile feather; 
Other than bone and sinew lets them soar. 
Freed to the free sky and its ragged weather. 
Beyond the windless acre where I stand. 
Shuttered from rain in one protected hollow. 
They are but little space above the land. 
From chrysalis to flight where I might follow. 
How loosely tethered to the world am I 
When gulls are calling from a storm-wild sky! 

Page 1 1 


Second Prize Poem 

Jt Stone in the vi/ilaerness 
Dorothy J. Roheits 

Not toward your perfections my still steps yearn 

Nor after lofty-browed nobilities 

And altars where I watched your fat rams burn; 

Not to these am I tender, not to these, 

Nor to the swinging crane of your mind's power, 

But toward the small and wan perversities 

Of personality, the weeds in flower; 

Toward fractured bones of strength a near one sees, 

Fallen-sparrow failures mated to my own; 

To the deviations setting you apart, 

The frailties which were not yours alone, 

But were parroted upon my secret heart. 

A thousand wounds my tongue's blade would atone 

Gould it smite with the staff of honesty 

And release the crystal waters from the stone 

Of pride and let you drink their truth with me. 

Poge 12 

Third Prize Poem 

c/o Smeia a Jxing 

Alice Morrey Bailey 

He held you in the secret of his heart, 
Oh, httle Bethlehem, oh, House of Bread, 
And with his hugging hills set you apart, 
And poured his shining promise on your head. 
Here Ruth and Boaz found love's steady rock. 
Here Rachel's tomb was washed with Jacob's tears; 
Here clear-eyed David watched his trusting flock 
And sent his sweet songs winging down the years. 

Though small among earth's cities, short of street- 
Where shepherds followed out their lowly ways. 
And gleaners reaped the barren fields of wheat 
With humble faith and peace along their days- 
Obedient to his laws, you were the one 
He chose to be the cradle of his Son. 

Page 13 


He watched them on the roads and led them thence 
From Nazareth, past Herod's well, by Nain; 
He saw the faithful Joseph growing tense 
With fear for Mary, seeking rest in vain 
Within your bulging walls, his earnest face 
Reflecting hght from door to hopeless door. 
Until, at last, he found the sheltered place. 
And rest for Mary on a stable floor. 

He hid them from the wicked in your crowd. 
And ears that might have heard a newborn cry 
Were deaf with sound, the tinkling coins too loud 
For some to hear hosannahs in the sky. 
He saw the shepherds quake; he saw afar 
The wise men searching out the moving star. 

He holds you yet, oh, little, blessed town. 
Although that night, and many years, are gone 
While aliens thread your hills of camel brown. 
To changing captors you have been a pawn. 
Unsought, uncherished, and unchanged as then. 
Untouched by gold within the fertile ring 
Of commerce, simple in your ways, as when 
He needed you to shield a newborn King. 

A million cities, proud and rich and great. 
Give homage to your memory tonight, 
And what was whispered once along your street 
Is sung from housetops, blazed in rainbow light. 
Though conquered many times, yours yet shall be 
The final conquest and the victory! 

\Biographical Sketches of M.^>:>ard Winners 
in the ibliza [R. Snoss? iPoem Contest 

Lizabeth Wall Madsen, who was born in Mt. Pleasant, Utah, and lived there until 
1941, has contributed many poems to The Relief Society Magazine. Her poem ''I Shall 
Be Late" was awarded second prize in the Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest in 1946. 
She devotes most of her time to being a secretary in Salt Lake City, and being both 
mother and father to a teen-age daughter, Diane. Whatever few moments are left 
are used in writing, mostly poetry. Mrs. Madsen's poems have appeared in Ladies 
Home Journal, Pictorial Review, the Improvement Era, and many other publications. 
She has won both the Christmas story and poem contests annually sponsored by The 
Deseret News. She is also represented in the new volume of Utah Sings and other 
anthologies. A member of the Art Barn Poets, she is a serious student of poetry and 
poetry writing; her work is characterized by excellent technique, as well as thoughtful 
content, reflecting a keen observation of nature and a deep understanding of emotions 
and ideals, which she presents with a discriminating choice of words set in the ca- 
dences of music. 

^ 'it V 

Dorothy Jensen Roberts, Salt Lake City, Utah, is well known to the readers of 
the Magazine who have enjoyed her lovely poems, many of them frontispieces, since 
1941. In describing her interests, Mrs. Roberts writes: "I was born in Sweet, Idaho, and 
spent a few years in the rich fruit country around Boise. Later, I had a few years in 
the town of Ephraim, Utah, and a storybook adolescence and youth in Cottonwood 
and Holladay. I attended the University of Utah for three years and have taken ex- 
tension courses and special classes in hterature. For three years I was a schoolteacher. 
I have been active in all the auxiliaries of the Church, and have especially enjoyed my 
work in Relief Society. I have two daughters, two precious grandchildren, and a fine 
husband. As hobbies, my strongest affinity is poetry, and next, playing the violin, 
with art and sewing following. Tv/ice before I have been awarded a prize in the 
Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest, as well as many other awards and prizes. My poetry 
and prose have appeared in the Church publications and other newspapers and maga- 
zines. I am a member of the Utah Sonneteers, Utah Poetry Society, and the League 
of Utah Writers." 

^ 'J* ^ 

Alice Morrey Bailey, musician, composer, sculptor, artist, and writer, is a remark- 
ably gifted woman. Readers of The Relief Society Magazine are familiar with her 
poems, short stories, and serials. Her story "The Wilderness" placed first in the 1941 
Rehef Society Short Story Contest, and "The Ring of Strength" placed second in 
1945. In the 1948 Relief Society contests, Mrs. Bailey was awarded first prize in the 
short story and second prize in poetry. Her poem "Lot's Wife" won first prize in 
the Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest in 1951. Her serial "The Deeper Melody" is cur- 
rently running in the Magazine. Mrs. Bailey's poems have appeared in many antholo- 
gies, and in many magazines and newspapers of national circulation. Since girlhood, 
Mrs. Bailey has been active in Church work. She is now president of the M. I. A. in 
the Eleventh Ward, Salt Lake City. Ahce and her husband DeWitt Bailey are the 
parents of three children and they have one grandchild. Mrs. Bailey is a member 
of the Utah Sonneteers, the League of Utah Writers, the Associated Utah Artists, and 
at present is acting as compositor of technical reports. College of Mines and Mineral 
Industries, University of Utah, Salt Lake City. 

Page 15 

J^sK^ard Vi/i' 


Annual Lrieuef Society Short Story (contest 

npHE Relief Society general board 
is pleased to announce the 
award winners in the Annual Re- 
lief Society Short Story Contest 
which was announced in the June 
1953 issue of the Magazine, and 
which closed September 15, 1953. 

The first prize of fifty dollars is 
awarded to Dorothy Clapp Robin- 
son, Boise, Idaho, for her story 
"One Wild Rose." The second 
prize of forty dollars is awarded to 
Mary Ek Knowles, Ogden, Utah, 
for her story "Beside the Still 
Waters." The third prize of thirty 
dollars is awarded to Ruth MacKay, 
Lethbridge, Alberta, Canada, for 
her story "One Sweetly Solemn 

The winners of the first and sec- 
ond prizes have previously placed 
in the Relief Society Short Story 
Contest, but the third prize winner, 
Ruth MacKay, appears for the first 
time as a contest winner. 

This contest, first conducted by 
the Relief Society general board in 
1941, as a feature of the Relief So- 
ciety centennial observance, was 
made an annual contest in 1942. 
The contest is open only to Latter- 
day Saint women who have had at 
least one literary composition pub- 
lished or accepted for publication 
by a periodical of recognized merit. 

The three prize-winning stories 
will be published consecutively in 
the first three issues of The Relief 
Society Magazine for 1954. 

Thirty-seven stories were entered 
in the contest for 1953. Most of 
these stories were well plotted and 
well written, and featured realistic 

Page 16 

character presentation and develop- 

The contest was initiated to en- 
courage Latter-day Saint women to 
express themselves in the field of 
fiction. The general board feels that 
the response to this opportunity 
continues to increase the literary 
quality of The ReUei Society Maga- 
zine, and will aid the women of the 
Church in the development of 
their gifts in creative writing. 

Prize-winning stories are the 
property of the Relief Society gen- 
eral board, and may not be used for 
publication by others except on 
written permission of the general 
board. The general board also re- 
serves the right to publish any of 
the stories submitted, paying for 
them at the time of publication at 
the regular Magazine rate. A writer 
who has received the first prize for 
two consecutive years must wait 
two years before she is again eligi- 
ble to enter the contest. 

The Rehei Society Magazine now 
has subscribers in every State in the 
Union, and in Alaska, Hawaii, Can- 
ada, Mexico, Australia, England, 
France, Germany, South America, 
South Africa, and other countries. 

The general board congratulates 
the prize-winning contestants, and 
expresses appreciation for all those 
who submitted stories. Sincere 
gratitude is extended to the judges 
for their discernment and skill in 
selecting the prize-winning stories. 
The general board also acknowl- 
edges, with appreciation, the work 
of the short story committee in su- 
pervising the contest. 

[Prize- yi/inning Story 

Jinnual Uielief Society Short Story^ Contest 

First Prize Story 

One Wild Rose 

DoTothy Giapp Rohinson 

Gwen swallowed, trying to dis- 
lodge the hardness in her throat. 
She knew she was not deceiving 
her mother. She knew her loss was 
her parents' loss. She knew her 
every moment of loneliness and her 
every heartache were echoed in their 
hearts; but tonight she must be 

After her mother's car had passed 
from sight, Gwen stood motionless 
in the driveway. For long minutes 
she waited. ''Why," she whispered, 
''oh, Donald, why?" 

A petulant cry came from the 
house. "Muv-ver." Gwen went 
quickly to the room where her chil- 
dren slept. 

"I wanted you." Donny was sit- 
ting upright, his chubby fist beating 
restlessly on the pillow. "Why did 
not you come?" 

Gwen sat on the bed beside him. 
"S-s-sh. Must not wake baby sis- 

Donny glanced at his sister's crib. 
"She is dead as the world," he an- 
nounced scornfully. 

The baby was sleeping "dead as 
the world." Dark curls clung damp- 
ly about her gamin face. Her rose- 
bud mouth was irresistible, but 
even as Gwen bent to kiss it, she 
drew back abruptly. 

"You don't like her," Donny ac- 

"Lie down and go to sleep." She 
hadn't intended her tone to be so 

Page V 


GWEN met her mother's eyes 
with forced unconcern, but 
her fingers were cramped. "I 
don't need you any longer. Mother. 
Really, I am all right. I do ap- 
preciate your staying with the chil- 
dren while I was at church." 

"Donny isn't asleep yet. I could 
stay . . . ." 

"I'll speak to him." Gwen hoped 
her mouth was not actually as tight 
as it felt. Te relieve her hands she 
began gathering the Sunday papers. 
"I can't lean on you and Dad for- 
ever. You have been so kind." 

"Kind!" With a sigh Mrs. Owens 
reached for her handbag. 



harsh. To counteract it she laid 
the boy back on his pillow. 

'Toil sing and I sleep/' Donny 

"Darling, Mother can't sing to 
night. Please be a good boy and 
go to sleep." 

''I heard you once," he persisted. 

She could not do it. Never again 
would her heart and throat respond 
to melody. She tried to pat the 
boy gently, but her hand moved in 
jerks. Bewildered by his mother's 
unaccustomed actions, the boy lay 
quiet. He blinked hard trying to 
keep awake. 

Gwen dropped to the floor and 
buried her face in the bedding. She 
tried to pray, but could only suffer. 
Donny's hand reached and grasped 
one of her fingers. When, finally, it 
relaxed, she rose stiffly and went in- 
to the living room. She turned on 
the radio, but snapped it off im- 
mediately. Seeing the unoffending 
papers, she snatched at them and 
tore them to shreds. She stared un- 
seeing at the litter they made on 
the floor. Automatically, she 
stooped and gathered the pieces one 
by one. She went outside to dis- 
pose of them. 

A LONG the newly surfaced street 
lights were snapping on and un- 
blinded windows gave glimpses of 
family life. Don had bought in 
this new addition thinking there 
would be more room for a play yard 
and that the hazards of town would 
be at a minimum. He hadn't 
guessed. How could he have 
guessed how alone she was going 
to be! 

She went back inside, but paced 
restlessly back and forth, from room 
to room, picking up this, setting 

down that. Inevitably she came 
again to look out upon the coming 

Twilight had deepened into a 
soft purple curtain through which 
a few stars were peeping. The tang 
and pull of spring lay sweet and 
challenging on the air. The song 
that had refused to be put aside 
came silently to her lips 

''. . . unknown waves before me 
roll " 

Somewhere angry waves were 
rolling over Don. Perhaps they had 
flung him on some barren shore. 
Perhaps— but she must not think. 
She must not. She closed the door. 

Thayne and Lila were new in the 
ward. Tonight they had sung, 
''Jesus, Savior, Pilot Me." That had 
been hard to take, but the love, the 
possessiveness that radiated from 
them had been the one thing too 
much. Of all songs that one had 
meant most to her in her life with 
Don. They had been singing it 
when they met. It was the song 
Donny had wanted her to sing, and 
now through it she had lost Don. 

She had been told she must re- 
member—what was it she must re- 
member? She looked about the 
room and tried to focus her 
thoughts. Oh, yes, she must re- 
member life is but a prelude. 
Somewhere Don was still Don, the 
man she knew so well and loved so 
desperately. That was what she 
had been taught. That was what 
she always believed, but tonight 
belief was not enough. She must 
know or go mad with despair and 

It would not help to talk to any- 
one, not even Dad. All had been 
said that could be said— had been 
said so many times the words had 



lost their meaning. (Son6' w€t6 the 
compass and chart that had directed 
her hfe. The walls of the room 
seemed to close in about her, suf- 
focating her with their rigidity. 
She snatched at the back door and 
flung it open. The stars were 
brighter now, though in the direc- 
tion of town they were dimmed by 
the street lights. For a moment the 
heavens fascinated her. How far 
was a star? How far from faith to 
knowledge, and who knew the way? 
In quick decision she went back to 
the children. Both were sleeping 
soundly. She glanced from the 
window. Leah, her neighbor, was 
looking at her children. Gwen 
rapped on the pane. 

''Will you hsten for them?" she 

''Surely. Run along." It was 
characteristic of Leah that she 
asked no questions. 

Gwen tried to smile her thanks. 
She offered no explanation as to 
where she was going. She did not 
know where she was going. She did 
not care except that the way must 
lead to peace. Throwing a stole 
over her shoulders, she went out 
into the night. She started walk- 
ing, but with no sense of direction. 

TT had been just such an evening 
as this when she and Don had 
met. The M Men and Gleaners 
from her home ward had gone up 
the river for a picnic. They had rid- 
den in an open truck, and, leaning 
against the high body, she had no- 
ticed his black head, just noticed 
because it was darker and could be 
seen above the others. They had 
sung all the way, popular songs, 
sentimental songs, and then some- 
one had started "Jesus, Savior, Pilot 

Me." Perhaps it had teeii prompt- 
ed by the nearness of the road to 
the river, or perhaps it had been for 
no reason at all. Gwen had caught 
Don's clear rich notes through the 
chorus of voices, and they brought 
a sweetness and fulness to her heart 
not experienced before. Around 
the campfire while they were toast- 
ing weiners she had noticed him 
again. She had thought he was with 
Ruby Denman. 

And then, suddenly, evening had 
laid a gauzy blanket over the scene. 
She was standing on the brink of 
the river reaching for a wild rose. 

"Let me." He was at her side. 
"You might fall." 

Getting the rose had been easy 
for him. He held it so she could 
inhale the fragrance. Later, they had 
laughed as he had tried to pin it in 
her hair— hair, he reminded, that 
was bright and golden beside the 
dark sheen of his. 

"A wild rose for everlasting love," 
he said. 

"Are you sure?" she challenged. 

"I am sure of one thing. I shall 
never see a wild rose again, but I 
shall see you and this— this heavenly 

Stumbling alone in the darkness, 
Gwen remembered how sure his 
words had been. Don had always 
been sure. 

They had walked back to the 
group hand in hand, that is, her 
hand was resting lightly in his, but 
she was keenly aware of the 
strength of the fingers that had 
fumbled with the bobby pin. From 
that moment there had been no 
doubt. Don was her other, her 
stronger self. With him life was a 
dream materialized. With him she 
was strong and capable. Without 



him she fumbled in a sea of alone- 
ness. But the aloneness she felt to- 
night was light years removed from 
that which she had experienced 
then. Her life had been torn from 
its moorings; the song, the stars, the 
spring breeze cried it from every 

npHEY had not waited long. Don 
had known the horror and 
spiritual desolation of the South 
Pacific. He was eager for home and 
family. When she knelt at the altar 
and became his for time and eter- 
nity, Gwen had been sure, so very 
sure. There was an eternity, and 
she and Don would share it togeth- 

Everything that had helped to 
bring about the marriage had been 
motivated by love and a sense of 
unity, and everything about the 
marriage had been charged with the 
same calm unison of spirit she had 
experienced the night they had met. 
The coming of the babies had lift- 
ed their ecstasy to the higher plane 
of parenthood. 

Walking, walking in the dark- 
ness, Gwen lived again those bright 
years. She recalled the first time 
they had sung together in church. 
They had chosen ''J^^^^, Savior, 
Pilot Me" because of its special 
meaning for them. She loved the 
poetry of its words, the haunting 
melody of its notes. 

She had smiled smugly that 
night. A kindly fate had chartered 
their course and spared them the 
rolling of boisterous waves. She was 
Gwen and he was Don, and the 
babies were both of them. They 
were a unit. They would always be 
a unit. Death was something that 
came to people, but when two were 

joined, as she and Don, there could 
be no real separation. 

Gwen suddenly became conscious 
that all the while she had been re- 
living those happy years her feet 
had chosen their own path. Where 
the path led did not enter her 
mind. The way of going was imma- 
terial. Tonight one relived moment 
of intimacy had jerked her from her 
comforting bed of faith. Gone also 
was her future, her assurance of re- 
union with Don. She must find 
these things again, or there was no 
meaning to life— there could be no 
life. She could endure the endless 
days, the interminable nights, the 
excruciating loneliness of body and 
spirit, if only she knew. Physically 
exhausted, she sank to the earth. 
She looked about as one struggling 
from a coma. 

All about her trees elbowed each 
other and their leaves stirred sleep- 
ily. The moon had risen and its 
reflected light glistened from water. 
The river! Shock struck the fuzzi- 
ness from her mind. She had come 
back. Back to where she had met 
Don. Here they had come most 
frequently for their picnics, and it 
had been the scene of their last one. 
Once Donny, venturing too near, 
had fallen into the water. She had 
screamed with fright and run for 
him, but Don was already holding 

''He might have drowned," she 

Don laughed. "He might, if the 
water had been a little deeper right 
here, but he didn't. I was here." 
He gave the boy a gentle spat. 
''Now, young man, don't get so 
close next time." 

'Til never come here again." 

"Why? Donny is a boy. He 


will seek adventure and must learn emotions. She ran her hands 

to handle himself. We can't avoid through her hair and her fingers 

life by running." caught. Her elbows dropped to her 

So simple, so safe, when Don was knees. ''Don," she whispered, 

here. It was absurd to worry the wordlessly, ''Don, come back. I 

tiniest bit. They were a unit, com- need you so." 

plete, irrevocable. just when the fragrance first 

_„ 111 r touched Gwen she did not know, 

JT had been too perfect, or per- ^^^ gradually it was there, so deli- 

haps she had been too sure, ^ate, so all-enveloping, so rich in 

A call had come and Don had gone memories and promises. She raised 

seekmg-no, not seeking, but meet- ^er head. The moon was behind 

ing adventure. She was happy, for ^^e trees and she could see little 

he was still with her, though his through the filtered light. Guided 

letters were often weeks apart and ^y the fragrance her fingers groped 

came from rem.ote outposts. His ^^d found the blossom. One wild 

time m service nearly finished, she j-ose! She broke it from the stem 

had hastened to prepare their home ^^d lifted it to her cheek. For a 

for his coming. Then his plane had i^^g moment she caressed it. The 

gone into the water, and there had fragrance grew and grew until it 

been no one to pull him out as he reached the farthest tip of each 

had Donny. nerve. Then, like a dehcate spring. 

What followed had been night- it released the tension that had 
mare from which she had struggled j^eld her rigid for so long. Long- 
to awaken, but back of the night- smothered sobs twisted her body 
mare, mellowing her heartache, had ^^th their violence, 
been Don as always Until tonight ^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^ j ^^^ -^ 
they had been a unit. Abruptly she ^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^^ O^^ ^^^^^^ 
had become a lone lone y widow. ^^^^ ^^^ .^^^^.^ ^-^^ ^^^^^-^ 
Her childreri were fatherless. She ^^^ ^^^ ^ J ^^^ ^^^^ -^^^ -^^ 
had been told so many things, she ^.^^ ^ ^ .^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^-^^ 
had been promised so much, but ^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^j^^ sublime. Her starved 
all of it was as nothing against her ^^^^ ^^^^^ .^ ^^^ sweetness, the 
lack of knowledge. How could she ^^^^^^^ p^^er of it. Don was 
be certain? ^ , , back, for only he could give this 

The answer to that was that she ^^rength, this sense of togetherness, 
could not know. All the truths she ^ ^ . i . ^ j r 
had been taught, all the principles Sometime later the mood of ex- 
she had lived by were but beliefs, citation passed, and Gwen was 
balm for grieving hearts. She didn't f^\^ff^ ^^J^ !^^ ^^^ TlSe 
want them. She wanted Don. She She had found Don and now she 

wanted to know. "^^'^ g^ ^^ ^^^'' ^^^'^'■ 

Time, maliciously, refused to pass. As she opened her front door 

For eons, it seemed, she sat suffer- Gwen turned for a last look at the 

ing. She tried to think. She tried night. Dawn was a brush of deli- 

to pray, but as before, nothing cate pink above the dark hills, 

could penetrate the cloud of her Night was gone, and it was a new 



day. It was a new day for never 
again would she experience the 
complete desolation of spirit she 
had known this night. Now she 

The thought startled her. How 
did she know? Did she know? She 
knew in a positive physical sense 
that the rose was there before she 
touched it. She knew because of 
its fragrance. In just as positive, 
but less tangible way, she knew 
Don was still Don. There could be 
no mistake about the sweet tran- 
quility only he could bring. Like 
the fragrance, the evidence was 

there if the substance was not. Was 
this then knowledge, or was it faith? 

One bright star lingered in the 
sky, and she studied it. Again she 
asked, how far is a star? How far 
between faith and knowledge? 
Knowledge, perhaps, was as far as 
a star, and the path to it as inexplic- 
able as faith. Perhaps, but it no 
longer mattered. The question had 
lost its importance. Closing the 
door she turned toward the bed- 
room and words came melodiously 
to her lips: 

''. . . I hear thee say to me, fear 
not: I will pilot thee." 

^ 'Jc ^ 

Dorothy Chpp Robinson, Boise, Idaho, is well known to readers of The Relief 
Society Magazine. Her stories have pleased a wide audience for many years, and she 
is adept at writing serials as well as shorter fiction. She was awarded third prize in 
the Relief Society Short Story Contest in 1945, and first prize in 1950. "Writing has 
been a source of joy to me," she tells us, "for through it I have formed some of the 
most satisfying friendships of my life. I have served five times as chapter president 
and State president of The Idaho Writers League, of which I am a charter member. 
Relief Society, of course, has been the big work of my life. However, I have served 
in ward and stake capacities in all the auxiliaries, except Primary. At present I am 
working on the Sunday School stake board. I was bom in Colorado, but came to 
Idaho as a small child. I am mother of five children and grandmother to eighteen — 
all under ten years of age. The eighteen include one pair of twins born to one of 
my twins. I am a twin, as was my father. So my material for juvenile stories comes 

J/imateur (gardeners uieward 

Sudie Stuart Hager 

When summer left, the weeds stood high 

In every vegetable row. 

And clover blossomed in the grass 

That I had failed to mow; 

Each dead bloom-stalk was mummified. 

The unpruned bushes sprawled. 

So that I viewed my yard with shame 

When green-thumbed neighbors called. 

But winter with his tinseling-brush 

Has made each drab thing shine; 

And there's no other garden-spot 

As glorious as mine! 

First Ladies of Our Land 

Wives of the Presidents 

Part III 

Elsie C. Carroll 

JANE Appleton Pierce (1806- 
1863) daughter of a college 
president, loved reading, music, 
and quiet, studious pursuits. She 
felt alone in chattering, laughing 
crowds, and was a sensitive, loving 
woman, of delicate and fragile con- 
stitution. At twenty-eight (in 1834) 
she was married to the handsome 
and charming Franklin Pierce, 
then a member of Congress. 

During the eight years she spent 
in Washington while her husband 
was a Senator, she constantly 
dreamed of the time they could re- 
turn to their home in Concord, 
New Hampshire, and live quietly 
with their sons. In a social way she 
did only what was necessary. It was 
largely because of her unhappiness 
that her husband did not even fin- 
ish his last term as Senator. After 
his resignation he refused to accept 
a place in the cabinet offered him 
by President Polk. He declared he 
resigned so he could be with his 
family and he did not intend to 
leave them for any length of time 
unless his country called in time of 

Soon the war with Mexico be- 
gan, and he volunteered as a pri- 
vate but was soon a brigadier gen- 
eral. He became a hero when, 
after being wounded, he insisted 
on being lifted to his horse and 
leading his men into battle. 

When the war was over he re- 
turned to his law practice, fully in- 



tending to keep his promise to 
Jane to keep out of public life. In 
1848 he refused a nomination for 
Governor. But four years later 
there was such a clamor for him to 
run for President that he consent- 
ed, and almost against his will he 
was voted into office, and served 
one term (1853-1857). He was the 
youngest man up to that time to 
be President— only forty-nine. 

A short time before his inaugura- 
tion their oldest son was killed in 
an accident. They had already lost 
their two younger children, both 
boys. Jane never recovered from this 

Page 23 



final shock. The people of Wash- 
ington loved her as she stood duti- 
fully beside her husband at all cere- 
monies where she was expected to 
appear. She had the valor neces- 
sary to make her do graciously the 
tasks she dreaded, but which she 
performed only for her husband's 
sake and from a sense of duty. 

After their retirement from the 
White House in 1857, the Pierces 
traveled in Madeira and in Europe. 
Jane died in 1863, and was followed 
in 1869 by her sorrowing and de- 
voted husband. 

James Buchanan (1857-1861), 
fifteenth President, was a bachelor, 
the first President to enter the 
White House unmarried and the 
only one to depart still a bachelor. 
He brought to the White House to 
serve as official hostess, his niece 
Harriet Lane Johnston, who had 
chosen him among all her relatives 
to be her guardian when, at the age 
of nine she was left an orphan. 
She made a charming First Lady 
when her uncle went to the White 

Mary Todd Lincoln (1818-1882) 
was the daughter of a prominent 
and influential Kentucky family. 
She was ambitious for her husband, 
the young Springfield lawyer whom 
she married in 1842. 

Her years in the White House 
(1861-1865) were far from happy, 
far from her dreams of what they 
would be. She was watched and 
gossiped about and laughed at by 
some who thought it ridiculous to 
have the wife of a prairie lawyer as 
First Lady. 

Willie (William Wallace) the 
third son, died during Mary's ten- 
ure in the White House, and she 



never again entered the Blue Room, 
where his body had lain. 

However, Mary had a good 
knowledge of political affairs, a fine 
education, and the ability to make 
correct, even though often impul- 
sive, judgments. At times she was 
extravagant in her dress and ran in 
debt for clothes and jewelry at most 
of the Washington stores. Over 
eager to fulfill the requirements of 
her social position, she was not 
always at ease and often found her- 
self in embarrasing situations. 

Mary suffered over her unpopu- 
larity. On one occasion, after she 
had spent hours preparing to go 
down to a public reception, she 
stopped at the head of the stairs 
and said to her husband, 'They do 
not want me. They say I am a 



rebel sympathizer because I was 
born in Kentucky, and that I give 
information to the Confederates, 
and that I am not loyal to you or 
the Union/' 

The patient Abe agreed that they 
had a hard position, but reminded 
her that they had some very loyal 
friends, and that they were there 
in the reception rooms waiting for 
them. So, with head up, Mary 
went down to their guests. 

Some of their loyal friends, such 
as Sumner and Douglas, wanted her 
to stop the vicious gossip about her- 
self by publishing the facts that she 
spent much time in Union hospitals 
helping the staffs with organizing 
details and cheering Union veterans 
with her keen wit, and that when 
she was seen riding unattended 
down Pennsylvania Avenue she was 
going to some relief work, not as 
the gossips rumored, to meet some 


(1808 (?) - 1876) 

In spite of her sharp tongue and 
changeable disposition, Mary loved 
her husband and worried about his 
heavy responsibilities and grave 

At last the war was over, and it 
seemed to her that things would 
be easier. Lincoln had been re- 
elected and was being hailed as the 
savior of his country. Mary insist- 
ed on his going to the theatre for 
relaxation. Then came the tragedy 
of his assassination, April 15, 1865. 

Sad years for Mary followed. Her 
health was impaired, and the trag- 
edies of her years in the White 
House had resulted in recurrent 
emotional and mental instability. 
After several years of traveling, and 
periods of treatment in various hos- 
pitals, she went to live with her 
sister, Mrs. Ninian Edwards in the 
old home town— Springfield, Illi- 
nois. After a time Sumner suc- 
ceeded in getting a pension for her, 
but she continued to grieve until 
her death, seventeen years after 
Lincoln's death, in the same room 
in which she had been courted. 

The next First Lady, Eh'za Mc- 
CardJe /ohnson, married Andrew be- 
fore his nineteenth birthday. He 
owned a tailoring shop and she was 
the daughter of a shoemaker. How- 
ever, Eliza was able to assist her 
husband in learning to write, and 
she read to him while he plied his 
needle. They lived in the back 
room of the tailoring shop, but 
young Andrew was ambitious for 
learning. He joined a debating so- 
ciety and became known as ''the 
village Demosthenes." 

During his struggle upward, Eliza 
took care of their home and helped 
to make a living for the family. 
After three terms as Mayor of 



Greenville, Andrew was elected to 
Congress, and later served two 
terms as Governor of Tennessee. 
Then he was elected to represent 
Tennessee as a Senator. 

He fought the growing tide of 
secession, and it was as a Southern 
Unionist that he was elected Vice- 
President on Lincoln's ticket. The 
assassination of President Lincoln 
in 1865, brought Andrew Johnson 
to the Presidency and Eliza became 
First Lady (1865-1869). 

Eliza, however, was an invalid by 
the time she went into the White 
House, but she still gave comfort 
and encouragement to her hus- 
band during the hard years of the 
reconstruction, while her daughter 
Martha, wife of Senator David Pat- 
terson, performed the duties of of- 
ficial hostess in a very satisfactory 

Martha won the respect of 
Washington when the family ar- 
rived and she said to a news re- 
porter: ''We are plain people from 
the mountains of Tennessee, and 
we do not propose to put on airs 
because we have the fortune to oc- 
cupy this place for a little while." 

People respected Martha and ad- 
mired her integrity. They did not 
even gossip when it was known 
that she brought two cows to the 
Capital, which she milked herself. 
Her teas and other socials were 
popular, even when her father was 
threatened with impeachment. 

Eliza helped to superintend and 
organize the first White House 
Easter party for children, and she 
was a kind and wise advisor to her 
children and a friend of all who 
came to the Executive Mansion. 
Although her health became in- 

creasingly precarious, Eliza outlived 
her husband six months. She died 
in January 1876. 

Julia Dent Giant (1826-1902), 
who was married August 22, 1848, 
spent the first years of her married 
life in one army camp after anoth- 
er. When her husband resigned 



from the army, they lived for a time 
on a farm near St. Louis, Missouri, 
belonging to Julia. But Grant be- 
came disabled because of illness and 
they left the farm. He tried several 
kinds of work with little success. 
Then came the Civil War, and it 
was not long before he was the gen- 
eral who Lincoln declared was in- 
dispensable because he won battles. 
During the war Julia had some 
dangerous experiences. Once she 
escaped from a garrison that was 
about to be taken by hiding herself 
and her four-year-old son in a box- 



car on a railroad track and waiting 
there until a train finally picked 
up the car and she was carried to 

Her husband came out of the 
war as the hero who had saved the 
Union and was chosen President of 
the United States at the election in 
1869, and served two terms in the 
White House. 

Julia enjoyed good health and 
was vivacious and energetic, and of 
a happy disposition; though she did 
not enjoy social life to a great ex- 
tent, she performed her duties as 
First Lady with grace and charm. 
Nellie, the only daughter, was mar- 
ried in the White House in 1874, 
being the seventh "daughter of a 
President" to be married during her 
father's term of office. The wedding 
was a social event long remembered 
in the capital. Julia was adored by 
her husband, who, in the years fol- 
lowing his retirement from political 
life, and during the time of his 
fatal illness, wrote his personal his- 
tory of the war years to provide an 
income for Julia after his death. 
With her at his side he wrote 
until he could no longer move 
a pencil, then whispered dictation 
of the last chapters, thus winning 
his last battle for the woman he 
loved. Ulysses Grant died in 1885, 
and Julia survived him seventeen 

Lucy Webb Hayes (1831-1889), 
the next First Lady, who was mar- 
ried in 1852, celebrated her silver 
wedding anniversary in the White 
House. Friends said that she 
looked more attractive on that oc- 
casion even than she had at her 
wedding, a sweet and unassuming 
bride just out of college. They 
recognized, however, that the years 



had given her an inner depth and 
poise and faith in herself which 
well fitted her to be mistress of the 
White House. 

There she inaugurated regular 
Sunday circles which she made at- 
tractive, as she did all her social 
functions, for which she herself 
superintended the decorations, the 
music, and the catering. It was said 
that she always seemed as fresh and 
charming at the end, even of a big 
reception, as at the beginning. 

Her husband always talked over 
his problems with her and respected 
her opinions and decisions. He up- 
held her in her decision not to serve 
liquor in the White House. There 
was a loud protest to this edict at 
first, but she challenged her critics 
with the question: "Cannot people 
be as interesting and witty without 
wine as with it?" And they soon ac- 
cepted her wish good humoredly. 

She tried to have a family hour 



as often as possible when she and 
the President would devote them- 
selves entirely to their children, 
helping them with their homework, 
playing, and reading with them. 
They had eight children, five of 
whom grew to maturity. The chil- 
dren had many friends, one of 
whom declared after a visit to the 
White House, ''I will never be satis- 
fied with a husband who is not 
President." She had been impressed 
by the idyllic happiness of President 
and Mrs. Hayes. This friend later 
married William Howard Taft, and 
thus fulfilled her wish. 

Lucy was adored by the employ- 
ees of the Executive Mansion. She 
entertained them and their children 
on special occasions. On Christmas 
each child received a gift selected 
by the First Lady herself. The slo- 
gan of her life seemed to be: /'Noth- 
ing is too much trouble if it brings 
happiness to someone." 

Once an older soldier of the War 
of 1812 was brought to the White 
House to be photographed for 
some special purpose. The new uni- 
form sent for him to wear lacked 
the stripes to show he was a serge- 
ant. Seeing his disappointment, 
Mrs. Hayes procured needle and 
thread and was busy sewing the 
stripes on the uniform, sitting on 
the floor, it is said, when a British 
ambassador came into the room 
with a group of tourists he was 
showing around the Mansion. 

President and Mrs. Hayes left the 
White House in 1881. She was long 
remembered in Washington for her 
visits to hospitals with armfuls of 
flowers, and for her championship 
of woman suffrage. When she died, 
in i88g, flags were lowered at half 
mast in cities all over the land. 

Lucretia Rudolph GariieJd (1832- 
1918) was a Campbellite. She met 
James Abram when they were both 
studying to be teachers. He was 
janitor for the Eclectic Institute 
while he was studying. After a long 
courtship, they were married, No- 
vember 11, 1858. James was then 
principal of Hiram College, in 
Ohio, delivered lectures and ser- 
mons, and studied law in addition. 
Later he became president of the 
college. They lived on the campus 
until he entered the army when the 
Civil War broke out. 

He was called the praying colonel 
and had a great influence over men 
in the army. Once he enlisted sixty 
men at a ball by telling them of the 
merrymaking in Brussels on the eve 
of the Battle of Waterloo. 

After the war, Mr. Garfield arose 
rapidly in the political world and 
was nominated for President in 
1880. Lucretia was very reticent 
and retiring in character, but had 
the best of judgment. Her husband 
often remarked that he never had to 
excuse any of her words. She dis- 
liked publicity, but made a pleasing 
impression during the short time she 
resided in the White House. The 
five Garfield children and the 
President's aged mother, Eliza Bal- 
low Garfield, accompanied James 
and Lucretia to the WTiite House. 

When Lucretia contracted ty- 
phoid fever, her husband was 
crushed by her illness. As one writ- 
er says, 'This small, unobtrusive 
woman had given Garfield mental 
consolation and support since the 
ripening of their youthful friend- 
ship. He sat by her bed day and 
night, devoting himself personally 
to her care." 





She finally was well enough to 
be taken to a health resort and was 
about ready to return to the Ex- 
ecutive Mansion when she received 
word that James had been shot by 
a disappointed office seeker. She 
arrived in Washington in time to 
bring comfort to him in his hour of 
death, as she had done through his 
hfe. He died in September 1881, 
less than a year after his inaugura- 
tion. After many years of widow- 
hood, Lucretia died in 1918. 

EJJen Herndon Arthur, wife of 
Chester A. Arthur, who was 
married in 1859, died just be- 
fore he became president in 1881, 
but her influance which had 
been great during her lifetime, con- 
tinued with him after she was gone. 
He cherished her memory to the 
day of his death. All the time he 
was in the White House he placed 
fresh flowers under her picture each 

morning before he left for his of- 
fice. He had a memorial window 
placed in the church where he 
worshiped, and in the home they 
had shared, her room and all her 
personal belongings were kept just 
as she had left them, even to the 
needle in some sewing she had been 
doing when she became ill. 

President Arthur's sister, Mrs. 
John McElroy, acted as his official 
hostess, though he himself gave the 
geniality and friendliness to social 
functions he knew his wife would 
have given. 

Frances FoJsom Cleveland (1864- 
1947), the next mistress of the 
White House, 1886-1889 and 1893- 
1897, captured the nation's cap- 
ital at once. It was said that no 
one could meet her even with a 
handclasp at a public reception 
without sensing her splendid friend- 







She had the distinction of being 
married (June 2, 1886) in the Ex- 
ecutive Mansion, a bride of twenty- 
two, standing under a bell of red 
roses in the Blue Room. She had 
been a ward of Grover Cleveland 
following the death of her father, 
Grover's law partner. The second 
bachelor to be inaugurated Presi- 
dent was then forty-nine. He had 
known Frances since she was a 

Frances entertained with ease and 
graciousness at all functions. Some- 
times the crowds were so large at 
the evening receptions that officers 
would halt the guests a few mo- 
ments, at intervals, to give Mrs. 
Cleveland a moment's rest. 

People felt so much at home that 
they wandered all through the 
White House, except through the 
few rooms on the second floor re- 
served for the President's family, 
making themselves, as one writer 
says, ''democratically at home." 

For three years Frances enjoyed 
being mistress of the White House. 
Then Benjamin Harrison became 
President. However, four years lat- 
er the Clevelands returned. But 
now times had changed. People 
criticized and found fault. They 
blamed the President for the busi- 
ness panic of that time. They gos- 
siped about the private lives in the 
White House, accusing Frances of. 
snobbishness because she refused tc 
let the public caress her baby, and! 
rumoring that there was domestic 
trouble if she ever went to a con- 
cert or theatre without her husband. 

Through all this she remained her 
friendly, gracious self and won back 
some of the popularity of former 
years before the end of the term. 
The second daughter of the Cleve- 
lands was born in the White House 
during the President's second term. 
In all, four children were born to 
them. Grover Cleveland died in 
1908, and Frances, who was twenty- 
seven years younger than her hus- 
band, died in 1947. 

Caroline Scott Harrison (1832- 
1892) and her husband Benjamin 
were both interested in social serv- 
ice while they were students, and 
this interest continued after their 
marriage. In fact, the day her hus- 
band was elected President, Caro- 
line spent the early evening in an 
orphan asylum, and said she was 
tired as she prepared early to go to 
bed. When her husband said he 
would go with her, their son-in-law 
asked if they were not going to re- 
main up to hear the election re- 
turns. Harrison answered, ''What 
good will that do? Should I be de- 
feated, my staying up all night 
would do no good. Should I win, 



it is better that I be rested and fresh 
for the activities of tomorrow." 

Carohne was used to Washing- 
ton society, for she had hved there 
six years while her husband was 
Senator. She performed her duties 
as First Lady (1889-1892) with 
poise and cheerfulness, though she 
regretted the restrictions the eti- 
quette of her position placed upon 
her, as she must always be ready to 
receive callers and so could not 
spend an entire day doing charity 

A joy to both her and her hus- 
band was their little grandson, the 
son of Mary Harrison McKee, who 
received almost as much publicity 
during the administration as did 
the President and First Lady. 

Caroline Scott Harrison died in 
the White House, October 25, 1892, 
a little more than a year before the 
end of her husband's term of of- 
fice. Benjamin Harrison died in 
1901, two years after he had served 
as President McKinley's representa- 
tive to the Hague Peace Confer- 

» ♦ » 

Support the iTlarcn of Q)imes 

Basil O'Connor 
President, the National Foundation for Infantile Paralysis 


N sixteen short years, the March of Dimes research has broken through 
tremendous barriers that once stood between man and the conquest of 
polio. Step by step, scientists have advanced from the depths of the un- 
known to the threshold of victory. In opening up a fourth front against 
infantile paralysis, the National Foundation now strikes directly at the 
heart of the polio problem. Its objective is to extend protection against 
this paralytic disease to the greatest number of people— eventually to 
all people. 

A polio prevention program is possible today because, through March 
of Dimes research, science for the first time has in its hands both a limited, 
temporary preventive agent and a trial vaccine which may provide the 
final answer to infantile paralysis. Today, plans are being made for what 
may be the final assault— the practical use of laboratory knowledge to meet 
the needs of human beings. 

The March of Dimes, already financing patient aid, scientific research, 
and professional education, soon will leave the laboratories to fight polio 
by prevention in the families of the nation. 

To do this, an additional $7,500,000 will be needed during 1954 alone 
for the mass production of a trial vaccine, and for the staging of the 
largest validity test involving human beings in the history of the world. 

So you see we have reached a crucial point. Scientists may be on the 
brink of success. The polio fight is entering its most important and ex- 
pensive phase. 

These are some of the reasons why we need support so urgently. We 
must reach all the people with the message of hope and determination 
during our January drive. 

New Year's Choice 

Dorothy Boys Kilian 

THE recreation hall was dec- 
orated just as gaily as in oth- 
er years, with balloons and 
crepe paper streamers and Japanese 
lanterns; the orchestra, imported 
from St. Louis, sounded like a regu- 
lar name band, the same old friends 
were there, whirling around the 
dance floor calling out holiday 
greetings to everyone. In fact, every- 
thing about the New Year's Eve 
party was truly festive, except the 
mood of Dick and Sally. 

They were sitting out a number, 
and Dick said earnestly, ''Gee, Sally, 
if you could give me the right an- 
swer tonight, it would be the hap- 
piest New Year's Eve of my life." 

''I know," Sally answered serious- 
ly. ''But, Dick, you wouldn't want 
me to promise if I weren't absolute- 
ly sure, would you?" 

"No, I guess not," he said slowly. 
"But, couldn't you possibly manage 
to make up your mind? After all, 
it isn't exactly a new problem .... 
I've been proposing to you at least 
once a week for three months." 
Dick smiled ruefully. 

"Fm very fond of you, Dick, you 
know that," Sally answered. "It 
isn't that, it's just that I've always 
wanted so badly to . . . ." She broke 
off and looked down towards the 
orchestra platform. 

Dick's glance followed hers and 
he frowned. "It's that singer," he 
groaned. "I knew the minute the 
Clarks introduced you to her 
there'd be a kick-back. Why on 
earth they had to have a career girl 
for a house guest, I don't know. 

Page 32 

And then to drag her to the party 
and have her show off . . . ." 

"Dick!" Sally protested laugh- 
ingly, "you can't blame Ellen 
Clark for being proud of her friend 
Madeleine. And it isn't just hear- 
ing her that makes me hesitate. All 
through high school I was crazy 
about singing, you know that. And 
then when Uncle Ed wrote this 
Christmas that he'd pay for lessons 
if I wanted to go to New York to 
live with them for a few 
months . . . ." 

"But, Sally, if you go way off 
there, it might not be for just a 
few months. That's what makes 
me afraid. And I'm interested in 
your voice, too. There are good 
teachers in St. Louis, and, if we 
married, I'm sure we could soon 
juggle the budget around enough 
to let you go over there once a 
week or so for lessons." 

^^Y^^'^^ sweet, Dick." Sally 
laid a hand over his. "It's a 
great temptation to say yes, but I 
keep wondering if I wouldn't always 
regret having passed up this offer 
of Uncle Ed's. That wouldn't be 
good for either of us." 

"I'd be willing to take the chance, 
darling," Dick said quietly. "I have 
confidence that we could work 
things out all right." 

"Let's dance," Sally said sudden- 
ly, standing up and gently pulling 
Dick up beside her. "It's almost 
midnight, and time is wasting." 

"All right, Sally," Dick agreed, 
"if that's the way you want it." 


It was a dreamy waltz the orch- Even as Sally watched with a 

estra was playing, but Dick and Sal- sympathetic lump in her throat, 

ly couldn't quite fall under the spell the orchestra leader noticed her, 

of it. In unhappy silence they be- too, and hurriedly walked over to 

came one with the jostling crowd give her a perfunctory kiss on the 

of dancers. cheek. Madeleine smiled at him 

Suddenly, the musicians broke off gratefully and then began to sing, 

in the middle of a bar, and then perhaps a little too loudly, "Should 

swung into the strains of ''Auld auld acquaintance be forgot . . . ." 

Lang Syne." Then her voice wavered. She 

''Happy New Year, everybody," stopped singing, and Sally saw her 

the leader shouted above the croon turn swiftly, and walk alone to her 

of the saxophones. dressing room. 

The couples on the floor The couples on the dance floor 

stopped dancing, and there was continued to move rhythmically, 

some hasty reshuffling of partners forgetful of the singer and the song, 

so that everyone could greet the It had only been a moment of 

New Year with his own date. time up there on the platform, and 

Sally felt Dick's arm tighten probably most of the crowd had 

around her. ''Happy New Year, not even seen it, but Sally had seen 

darling," he said, "no matter what and that was enough. She had seen 

your answer is." the face of loneliness. 

"The same to you, Dick," she From outside came the sound of 

answered, squeezing his hand tight, whistles blowing, cars honking, bells 

Then, as she laid her head against ringing to add to the din of the 

his shoulder, she saw Madeleine, the music and laughter within, 

guest star, Madeleine the rising Sally had almost to shout, to be 

young singer, who stood all alone sure Dick heard. "I know the an- 

in front of the orchestra, staring swer now, darling," she said, "and 

out into space with a fixed smile it's the one that will make a very 

on her pretty face. happy New Year for both of us." 

JCittle QiV/ [Before the [Piano 

Mabel /ones Gahhoit 

She sits forlorn before the keys, 

Such tiny fingers for melodies; 

Idly she plucks an ivory tone, 

Who wants to be here all alone? 

Outside the sun is round and high, 

A bright blue day in a gold-filled sky; 

Down by the brook in the cool green clover, 

The girls are telling their secrets over; 

Her shoulders droop, one two, one two, 

Walking the scales, as she should not do; 

An hour's practice is dreadful long 

When the world is calling its wild sweet song. 

Sixtyi Ljears Kyigo 

Excerpts From the Woman's Exponent, January i, and January 15, 1894 

"For the Rights of the Women of Zion and the Rights of the 
Women of All Nations" 

A HAPPY NEW YEAR is the salutation that greets old and young at the pres- 
ent time, and it is pleasant to hear the cheerful tones repeating the hopeful words 
that never grow old, but each year brings them back fresh and crisp as ever. The 
new year comes full of hopefulness from all for better days, and yet the last dear old 
year brought with it many blessings .... If we as a people should enumerate the 
blessings of the year that is now numbered with the past, we should find much to 
rejoice over .... If some extra exertion is necessary that the poor and unfortunate 
may have food and raiment during the winter, it will bring into active exercise the 
kindly and generous feelings and sentiments of those who minister to the needy, and 
every blessing bestowed will enrich the giver. — E.B.W. 

HOLIDAYS: It is good to observe these days set apart for love and friendship, 
for this age is so eminently practical that without some such observances, social and 
family hfe would lose much of its tenderness and sweetness. The reunion around the 
festive board, and better still the gatherings at eventide by the hearthstone at home, 
awaken the most affectionate recollections, or call forth the simple tales one loves to 
hear repeated of the former days, of the daily labor, or of adventure by land and sea, 
or the old songs, pleasant games, or work, or pastime. — Selected 


(Containing news of the bill bestowing full suffrage upon women passed by both 
houses of Legislature and signed by the Governor.) 

I was down on the beach this morning. 

Walked alone by the sounding sea. 
And from the wild waves in their sobbing, 

A message was wafted to me ... . 

Oh glorious message! most welcome; 

A forecast of vision sublime. 
Of a full free emancipation 

At last of all nations and climes. 

— L. M. Hewlings, Chicago, October 1893 

PARTY AT SANDY: A very pleasant party met at the Wardhouse, in honor of 
our President of the Relief Society Mrs. W. Olsen, before her leaving to visit rela- 
tives in Grantsville .... A purse was presented to her with a sum over $20.00 given 
by the society members. She felt very happy for the honor bestowed upon her. The 
evening was well spent in speeches and dancing. Refreshments consisting of many 
delicacies were served . . . and a general good feeling animated all. 

— Hilda Larsen, Secretary. 

A MAP MADE OF SILK: The historical silk map of the United States which 
was made by Kate D. Barron Buck of this City (Salt Lake City) which received 
merited praise and took a medal, when exhibited in the Woman's Building at the 
World's Fair, has been photographed and we have received a complimentary copy .... 
The map is made of silk from the dresses of the wives of the respective Governors of 
the several States and Territories. The District of Columbia is a piece presented by 
the late Mrs. Harrison of the White House. — Editorial notes. 

Page 34 

Woman's Sphere 

Ramona W. Cannon 

JTING PAUL and Queen Frede- 
rika of Greece aroused the high- 
est enthusiasm during their brief 
visit to America. Both glamorous 
in appearance, they are still ro- 
mantically in love. Their warmth, 
informality, and personal charm cap- 
tivated people, but underneath all 
this Queen Frederika is one of the 
most admired and respected women 
in the world today. German by 
birth, cosmopolitan by education, 
speaking English with an American 
accent, because she attended an 
American school in Italy, she has 
given a love and intelligence to her 
adopted people that rarely have 
been seen in royalty. In Greece 
she has visited almost inaccessible 
mountain communities where no 
monarch ever ventured before, to 
see and know the many heartbreak- 
ing problems of the people, and 
then to act with unremitting labor 
to help them. She sets a personal 
example of thrift and self-sacrifice. 

pVERY year about 28,000 fatal 
accidents occur in United States 

npHE young are constantly surpris- 
ing us. Last spring thirteen- 
year-old Manya Baumbacher, from 
Utah, skied into seventh place in 
the national women's giant slalom. 
(Rhona Wurteli Gillis, of Boise, 
won the championship.) Mary Ann 
Mitchell, fourteen, of San Leandro, 
California, has won sixty-five im- 

portant trophies in tennis matches 
and is considered a real threat to 
Little Mo (Maureen Connolly) 
who, at sixteen, won the national 
women's championship in 1951. At 
present Mary Ann is ahead of Little 
Mo's timetable. She is an ac- 
complished pianist and makes many 
of her own dresses. Judy Marks, of 
Chicago, only thirteen, ranks as one 
of America's top horsewomen. She 
has won 128 first prizes at Ameri- 
can horse shows and one interna- 
tional award. 

r\R. BULA WILLIAMS, psychol- 
ogist and counselor, and mother 
of cinema and swimming star 
Esther Williams, lived in Salt Lake 
City for ten years after marriage. 
Since turning sixty, she has received 
her Master's Degree, Ph.D., and 

"IITE extend best wishes and birth- 
day congratulations to Mrs. 
Isaac (Mary M.) Jacob of Los An- 
geles, California, formerly of Utah, 
ninety-five; Mrs. Janet McMurrin 
Evans, ninety-one. Salt Lake City; 
and Mrs. Matthew T. (Mary J.) 
Bell, ninety. Salt Lake City. 

AT the Jacob's Pillow Dance 
Festival in the Berkshires, Mass- 
achusetts (where Virginia Tanner's 
young L.D.S. group thrilled audi- 
ences last September), Ruth St. 
Dennis gave a remarkable perform- 
ance. At seventy-three, she repeat- 
ed some of the most difficult danc- 
es of her career with remarkable 
grace and spirit. 

Page 35 


VOL. 41 


NO. 1 

Jx uiappier JLife in the flew L/i 

npHE advent of a new year turns 
one's mind to his mistakes of 
the past year, and seems to nourish 
in the heart a resolution to fill the 
days that lie ahead with thoughts 
and actions which will conform in 
a closer pattern to that set by the 
Master in mortality. 

As one sits alone in review, reflec- 
tion, and judgment over his faults 
and failings, there comes, as each 
succeeding year passes, a deeper 
realization and a firmer conviction 
that only as one keeps the two great 
commandments, to love the Lord 
with all one's might, mind, and 
strength, and one's neighbor as 
oneself, can one become perfect as 
his Father in heaven is perfect. 

Because the whole world is made 
up of neighbors— of individual fami- 
lies—the commandment to love 
one's neighbor has universal applica- 
tion. To love one's neighbor, how- 
ever, does not mean to love the un- 
fortunate neighbor residing miles 
or thousands of miles away, and 
ignoring or disliking the next-door 

Means of fostering love for one's 
next-door neighbor is found in the 
ward unit which the Lord has set 
up. So long as there are poor, dis- 
tressed, discouraged, and sorrowful 


members within the confines of 
one's own ward, there is a responsi- 
bility to show love of neighbor to 
them. Then, after having thus 
shown forth love for one's near 
neighbor, a general love expressed 
for mankind has real meaning. 

Of first importance in obeying 
and living the second command- 
ment is love of one's own family. 
"Charity begins at home" is in line 
with the assertion of Timothy: 
''But if any provide not for his own, 
and specially for those of his own 
house, he hath denied the faith and 
is worse than an infidel" (I Tim- 
othy 5:8). It is imperative that con- 
sideration, appreciation, understand- 
ing, helpfulness, and love flow 
around the family circle which will 
endure for time and eternity. A 
woman who pours forth devotion 
and care on neighbors, while ne- 
glecting her own sister, is desregard- 
ing a vital part of the second com- 

The person who would overcome 
envy, greed, jealousy, selfishness, in- 
sincerity or more serious sins, will 
find their cure and a happier life in 
the new year through learning bet- 
ter to love his neighbors as himself. 
So the Master commanded all men, 
so may men become perfect. 


Page 36 


iKelief Society Assigned (bvening llieeting of 
Q/ast Sunday in lliarch 

'T'HE Sunday night meeting to be held on Fast Day, March 7, 1954, has 
again been assigned by the First Presidency for use by the Rehef So- 

Suggestive plans for this evening meeting have been prepared by the 
general board and sent to the stakes in bulletin form. 

It is suggested that ward Relief Society presidents confer with their 
bishops immediately to arrange for this meeting. Music for the Singing 
Mothers should be ordered at once. 

iuouna Volumes of ig^S irielief Society 1 1 Lagazines 

OELIEF Society officers and members who wish to have their 1953 issues 
of The ReJiei Society Magazine bound may do so through the office of 
the general board, 40 North Main Street, Salt Lake City 1, Utah. The cost 
for binding the twelve issues in a permanent cloth binding is $2.50, includ- 
ing the index. If the leather binding is preferred the cost is $3.50. 
If bound volumes are requested and the Magazines for binding are not 
supplied by the person making the request, the charge for furnishing the 
Magazine will be $1.50, which will be added to the cost of binding, thus 
making the total cost for cloth-bound volumes $4.00, and for leather- 
bound volumes $5.00. Only a limited number of Magazines are available 
for binding. 

It is suggested that wards and stakes have one volume of the 1953 
Magazines bound for preservation in ward and stake Relief Society libraries. 

Jxwara Suvscriptions [Presented in J/ipril 

nPHE award subscriptions presented to Magazine representatives for hav- 
ing obtained 75 per cent or more subscriptions to the Magazine in re- 
lation to their enrolled Relief Society members, are not awarded until after 
the stake Magazine representatives' annual reports have been audited. 
Award cards for these subscriptions for the year 1953 will be mailed to 
ward and stake Magazine representatives about April 1, 1954. 

Page 37 

Moon Music 

Louise Morris KeJIey 

For it must needs be, that there is an opposition in all things. If not so, my 
first-born in the wilderness, righteousness could not be brought to pass, neither wicked- 
ness, neither holiness nor misery, neither good nor bad. Wherefore, all things must 
needs be a compound in one ... (2 Nephi 2:11). 

FRANKIE was five years old, 
and he was not happy. We 
had hoped he was beginning 
to be, now that the lonely years 
were past . . . the days and years of 
moving from one temporary home 
to another— with his father in the 
service and his mother worried and 

Now his family was complete 
and solid, like a jigsaw puzzle with 
the center piece found. Now he be- 
longed to a family, and Frankie had 
a kindergarten class of two dozen 
potential friends. Now surely, he 
should be happy. 

"Mrs. Brown, we're so pleased 
with the progress Frankie is mak- 
ing,'' I told his teacher when she 
called me in for a conference. ''He 
seems to be much better adjusted 

''He seems to be," replied the 
teacher. "What, especially, have 
you noticed?" 

"Well, his friends at school," I 
answered, puzzled by her reserve. 
"He comes home nearly every day 
with a story to tell about his little 
friends— how Barry chose him first 
in a game, or Mickey shared his 
licorice. The day he brought home 
an airplane Brian gave him he was 
simply bubbling." 

She studied her pencil for a mo- 
ment. "I'm sorry, truly sorry. He 
is still hanging back, still on the 

Page 38 

fringe— or farther out. Brian lost 
his plane on the playground last 

I was stunned. "What more can 
we do?" I pleaded. 

"If he had one friend, a real, true 
friend in the group, that friend 
could draw him in." Mrs. Brown 
shut her desk drawer and picked up 
her handbag. "I'm doing what I 
can, but no combination has taken 
yet. Perhaps you can find the one 

How was it that Jimmy became 
the one? Perhaps because the first 
day I visited school, he was the 
only boy besides Frankie who was 
wearing bib overalls. (I made a 
mental memo: Buy jeans and cords 
like the others wear.) Perhaps be- 
cause he lived just around the cor- 
ner. (Another memo: Make cookies 
tomorrow and invite Jimmy in on 
his way home from school.) 

We brought Jimmy in slowly, 
subtly, patiently, as a fisherman 
lures a wary trout. Some of our 
casts snagged. When the movie 
"Destination Moon" came to town, 
we invited Jimmy to accompany us. 
We hoped for popcorn passed back 
and forth, exchange of comments, 
and delighted nudgings. Jimmy co- 
operated, but Frankie sat transfixed. 
Friend and family were forgotten in 
the wonder of the rocket's flight 
through uncharted space. His ears 



were deaf to everything but the dia- 
logue and the crescendo-diminuen- 
do of the background music. We 
chalked up an '*S" in science and 
a ''U" in social relations and forgot 

CEVERAL weeks later I was 
spending the early afternoon de- 
vising ways to make my little coiled 
spring unwind enough for a nap. 
I tuned in on a radio classics hour, 
hoping for some soft music. They 
were playing a favorite symphony, 
sometimes soft, of course, but often 
triple fortissimo. It became too 
loud for a lullaby, and Frankie 
called to me from his bedroom. 

'Is that 'trip to the moon' mu- 

''It's called symphony music— a 
form of classical music," I ex- 
plained. "Now, how about that 

Ignoring my question, he said, 
"It sounds like 'trip to the moon.' " 

"All right, we'll call it 'trip to the 
moon' music." 

"Do you like it, Mommy?" 

"Very much." 

"Then why do you keep turning 
it off?" 

"I haven't turned it off," I said. 
"Sometimes it's very loud and some- 
times it is soft and whispery. Then 
it gets loud again." 

"Why is it that way?" 

I replied, "Because it sounds bet- 
ter if it's not all the same." 

"Why does it sound better?" 

"Well, it's more interesting. You 
like ice cream, but if all the food 
that you ate tasted like ice cream 
you'd get tired of eating. Your taste- 
buds like a little food that's spicy, 
or sour, and a little that's smooth, 

or sweet, or syrupy, and lots of food 
that's in-between. But all different. 
The best music often has some 
parts thunder-loud and some parts 
mist-soft and some parts in-be- 
tween. Now you're just trying to 
postpone your nap. No more ques- 

But there came a knock at the 
door— Jimmy. So, after spending 
nearly an hour getting Frankie 
down for a nap, I let him get up to 
play after all. The friendship proj- 
ect was more important. 

I waited through supper for him 
to make some comment about Jim- 
my, so we could tell how it was 
coming, but he hardly said a word 
about anything. He was watching 
every mouthful of food his father 
ate— as if eating were some strange 

Finally he said, looking earnestly 
into Daddy's face, "It's not good if 
it's all the same." 

"Huh?" was the surprised re- 

"It's not good if it's all the same. 
Daddy," he repeated. 

Puzzled, Daddy turned to me for 
an explanation, then searched 
Frankie's face for a clue of what 
this might be about. Finding none, 
he agreed absent-mindedly, "All 
right. It's not good if it's all the 
same" and resumed his meal. 

I explained later. 

"I wish I understood that boy 
better," Daddy said. "I feel like I'm 
failing him when he needs me 

"I know. We've lost the most 
precious, the most plastic years. 
Now we have to hurry. There's so 
little time to help him before it's 
too late." 



''And yet we musn't do the wrong 

"No/' I agreed. "If only we 
could help him not to be unhappy 
about so many things, then, maybe, 
after that he could learn how to be 

''He has security now," my hus- 
band said. "He knows we both love 

"But he still doesn't have within 
himself whatever it takes to meet 
disappointments and keep going." 

"Maybe after awhile," Daddy 
said hopefully. 

AFTER awhile the stories of 
school pals stopped, and Frank- 
ie hated to go to school. The kin- 
dergarten was a modern wonder- 
land, with floor-to-ceiling windows, 
a playhouse, carpenter's bench, slip- 
pery slide, a jungle gym, fireplace, 
aquarium, painting easels, and cup- 
boards full of toys. Yet he hung 
back as if he were a frontier youth 
on his way to "Master Hickory." 

Then one night it all came out. 
I was checking to see if the "bair- 
nies were a'cuddled doon." Frankie 
was asleep, with his face in the pil- 
low. As I tiptoed out I caught a 
stifled sound— a sob. His pillow 
was sponge-wet with tears. His lit- 
tle shoulders were shaking now in 
an effort to keep the sobs from my 

Instantly he was in my arms, ab- 
sorbing that remedy known to 
mothers before medicine existed. 
Finally the sobs quieted, but still 
he clung to me, trembling. 

"Is it school?" I inquired. 

He nodded. 

"But you have a friend at school 
now. Doesn't Jimmy help you play 

with toys, and paint and build?" 

"Jimmy isn't my friend at school. 
When he comes here he acts like 
a friend," he continued, "but at 
school he doesn't even like me. He's 
on Bill's gang, and they don't want 
me on their gang, and if Bill says 
to Jimmy to beat me up then Jim- 
my does it." Then wistfully, "But 
Jimmy likes me some when Bill 
isn't there." 

He waited for help, watching my 

As I struggled to find the com- 
forting advice, the soothing words, 
he stared intently at me, trying to 
read them in my eyes. Failing, he 
restated his problem: "Only some- 
times he's my friend, and sometimes 
he hits me." 

The words echoed and re-echoed. 
What can a mother say when she 
has not for herself the answer? 

And so I prayed, silently, holding 
Frankie's hand, but encompassed by 
silence, "Oh, give me wisdom. 
Please, Father, let me know what 
to say." 

I waited then, feeling comforted, 
watching the dusk deepen in the 
room, feeling fully a mother's love, 
a mother's responsibility. 

But it was the child who said it, 
almost shouted it, in surprised dis- 
covery. "It's like the music/" 

Even then I was lost, groping. 

"What music, son?" 

" Trip to the moon' music! Loud 
and then soft. Sometimes friends 
like you and sometimes they hit 
you. It can't be all the same." His 
face brightened. "It's that way with 
everything, isn't it. Mommy?" 

Thus wisdom had come . . . and 
understanding and comfort. Frank- 


ie's own thoughts had been guided, 
directed. They had found a clear 

Nestling down in his bed again 
and smiling now, he said, 'It's bet- 
ter that way, I guess." 

'Tes, it's better. Soon you'll have 
good friends, and you'll enjoy them 
all the more because you'll remem- 
ber how unhappy you were to- 


''And if I'm unhappy again," he 
said sleepily, "I'll know it will get 
different. Like the music. That 
'trip ... to the . . . moon' . . . mu- 
sic .. . ." 

He was asleep. I sat by his bed 
remembering words of inspiration 
and understanding, seeing a light 
in the dusk-shadowed room, "For 
it needs must be, that there is an 
opposition in all things . . . ." 

///i/ (^aiendar 

Elsie Sim Hansen 

'Today is the beginning of a new month, Mother, please may I turn the page 
on the calendar?" my young daughter asked as she climbed up on the kitchen stool to 
reach the calendar hanging on the wall. 

The eagerness in her young voice startled me for a moment as I said in sur- 
prise, "Of course you may, dear, but why get so excited about it?" 

She stood poised on the top of the stool like a young bird ready for flight, watch- 
ing me place the last tray of a batch of cookies in the oven before she replied, and 
then she said, "It's lots of fun. Mother. See, if I shut my eyes tight while I turn over 
the page, when I open them again the old month is gone, and there is a new pretty 
picture to look at, and the page is all covered with clean, shiny new days." 

A few minutes later Shirley went outside to play, but what she had said con- 
tinued to linger in my thoughts. Then I asked myself this question: What kind of 
picture did I see as I turned the pages each month? Was the picture before me 
all I had hoped it would be? Was it full of faith, hope, and enthusiasm for a happy 
future, like the smiling face of the lovely young girl that Shirley had seen as she 
opened her eyes? Was the new page in front of me to be full of shiny new days, 
each one regarded as a precious piece of clay to be moulded by my hands, thoughts, 
and actions into years filled with joy and satisfaction? If not, then perhaps it was 
time that I accepted the challenge that was before me. 

True, I could not expect to shut my eyes completely to the past, as Shirley had 
done. I wouldn't even want to, for I would need the strength and wisdom I had 
gained from traveling the hills and paths in the picture of my past to broaden my 
future vision. 

There might be many times in the years ahead when I might falter, when it 
would take more courage than I would think I possessed to close my eyes to the 
thorns of regrets and the weeds of mistakes that would try to grow into my picture 
and hover like dark clouds to dim the days and blot out my view temporarily, but 
only temporarily, if I willed it so. For always before me to lend a helping hand would 
be the tools my Heavenly Father had so generously provided for me, the tools of 
prayer, faith, and an unselfish desire to be of service to others, which, if used properly, 
would give me new strength, new ambition, and new opportunities, each day, each 
month, each year, until my calendar of life would be completed. 

The Deeper Melody 

Chapter 4 
Alice Money Bailey 

Synopsis: Steven Thorpe, a widower 
with three small children, is grateful to 
Margaret Grain, a registered nurse, for 
taking care of his baby during an attack 
of pneumonia. Margaret's mother is act- 
ing temporarily as Steven's housekeeper, 
while making plans for her daughter's ap- 
proaching marriage to Dr. Rex Harmon. 
In the meantime, Steven wins back the 
Kettle Creek contract and is reinstated in 
his job. 

4 4-|VTONSENSE!" said Steve. 
^ 'Tou're just hysterical, J. 
T., on getting this con- 
tract. You don't have to leave me 
the business to get me back into 
the company. Fd come under any 

"Fm not hysterical, and this is no 
snap decision. Fve been watching 
you for years, as well as a dozen 
other young men. Kettle Creek has 
been a sort of testing ground with 
me ever since I failed to sell them 
ten years ago. I knew then that the 
man who could would be a better 
man than L Nobody has succeeded, 
but I was most disappointed when 
you failed." 

''Don't give me too much credit 
for getting back up there and sell- 
ing the contract. I was thinking 
about it, Fll admit, but it seemed 
too crazy until Phyllis' nurse got the 
same idea. She's a pretty level sort 
of person, and . . . ." 

"Phyllis' nurse? You think she's 
wonderful don't you? Is she 
young? Is she pretty? Is she 

"All three," laughed Steve. 
Page 42 

"You'd better marry that girl. 
Don't let her get away from you." 

"She's engaged. She's wearing a 
diamond as big as your fist." 

"Buy her a bigger one. Go to, 
and cut him out." 

"You surely must want me mar- 
ried, J. T. You've never seen the 
girl. You don't know anything 
about her." 

"I know what you've told me 
about her— she got your baby well. 
She gave you the right kind of ad- 
vice and support. I told you Fve 
been watching you for years." He 
broke off to go to his files and get 
a brochure. 

To Steve's astonishment, it con- 
tained nothing but information 
about him, his sales record, his mar- 
riage, the birth of his babies, Ellen's 
death, the letters he had written the 
company when he was sales man- 
ager of a district near Craig— all of 
it was there. 

"I was pretty sure about you a 
long time ago, Steve. I took a lik- 
ing to you the first time I saw you, 
when you were the greenest sales- 
man I had, just fresh out of col- 
lege with a degree in business. It 
intrigued me that a fellow with 
your marks didn't hit for at least a 
managership in some department 
store. Why did you do it, boy? 
I've always been curious." 

"It's a long story, and it wasn't 
snap judgment. I'm crazy about 
machinery. I worked in a mill when 
I went to college, and I was ap- 
palled at the waste of inefficient 


machinery— the world's treasures 
spread out in sand dumps all over 
the world. That's where Pikes 
Peak came in. Your machinery has 
the most perfect recovery of any. 
You have always been a hero to me, 
J. T., a sort of Horatio Alger of the 
machine world. Take a machine 
job that was impossible to anyone 
else and you could do it. Selling 
your machmery was more than a 
job with me. It was a crusade." 

'Then you wonder why I want 
you in this with me, Steve. It was 
inevitable that we should get to- 
gether. But I want you to get mar- 
ried—to the right girl. Your wife 
was the right kind. I had the right 
kind of wife, or there would be no 
PPMM today, however, I never 
found the right one to take her 
place, so now I have no sons to 
carry on the business. And it is 
still a baby business. I want our 
own foundries, our own supply 
sources. I won't live to see it, 
Steve, but it is something for you 
to shoot at." 

'T^HE partnership papers were be- 
ing drawn up when Steve went 
home. He was alternately giddy 
with the thought of his new posi- 
tion and sobered by his sense of in- 
adequacy for the responsibilities it 
would bring. It was a wonderful 
homecoming— the first in a long 
time not accompanied by fear and 
dread of what he would find. Davey 
and Ilene squealed their delight, 
both chattering all their day's do- 
ings at once, and trotted after him 
to Phyllis' room. Even Mrs. Grain 
left her biscuit making and brought 
up the rear. One glance at Phyllis 
crowned his day. She looked per- 
fectly well. 


When it came to Margaret he 
found it difficult to meet her eyes, 
in the light of his recent thoughts 
and J. T's forthright conversation. 
When, at length, he did, she was 
searching his face with question. 

''Was it a good trip?" she asked. 

"I feel like a conquering hero," 
he confirmed. 

She nodded. "You look like one. 
Kettle Creek came through all right, 
I take it." 

"Yes, and you are now gazing on 
a brand new PPMMC vice-presi- 

His own flesh and blood could 
not have been more delighted. Mrs. 
Grain bustled to the kitchen to put 
party trimmings on an already su- 
perb dinner. Later he found oppor- 
tunity to talk to Margaret. 

"I haven't the foggiest notion 
how to thank you," he told her. 
"You are certainly my good angel. 
Except for you none of these mir- 
acles would have happened— Phyl- 
lis well, your mother making my 
home a delight, and now this— for 
you must know that one sentence 
of yours marked the turning point 
of my life." 

"What sentence was that?" 

"The one about me getting back 
that Kettle Creek contract." 

"Nonsense! You were already 
thinking about it." 

"Yes," admitted Steve, "but you 
motivated me to action." 

"It took more than that really to 
do it. I can see by your face how 
hard you've worked." 

Ah! That was what it took to put 
the crown on a victory! A few words 
of praise from the woman a man 
.... But this was absurd! Steve 
had almost said— in his mind, to be 
sure— the word loves. 



CTEVE took a firm grip on him- 
self and looked the possibility 
squarely in the face. Grant that he 
could and did fall in love again, as 
everyone seemed to wish. Grant 
that he might fall in love with Miss 
Grain, what then? Gertainly any 
man could love such a superb wom- 
an, but she wasn't for just any man. 
She wasn't for Steve, being, as she 
was, practically married to another 
man— a man from her own profes- 
sional world, one who could under- 
stand and properly appreciate her, 
one who was entering marriage for 
the first time, to whom she would 
be first, to whom her children 
would be first. No! Whatever he 
felt it was certainly to be killed in 
the root. Steve knew that. 

Killing it was another matter, 
with her in the house every minute 
he was home, across the table for 
breakfast and dinner, her translu- 
cent white cap winged above her 
fine blue eyes, her immaculate uni- 
formed slimness moving about the 
room, trailed by the adoring Davey 
and Ilene, her arms lifting and 
cradling his little Phyllis. She was 
just through the wall when he slept, 
and wherever she was, night or day, 
he was increasingly aware of her 

It was a miracle to watch her 
with the other children, for she as- 
sumed the responsibility of them, 
as well as Phyllis. Small as they 
were, she regarded each as a per- 
son in his own right. She quickly 
established a health routine with 
them, showing them how to brush 
their teeth, and making a game of 
everything from naps to vitamins. 
She settled their baby arguments 
with a clear logic which satisfied 

them. It was interesting to watch 
her technique for keeping Phyllis 
in bed, for she was almost recov- 

''She's not out of danger yet," 
Steve would insist, and he really 
meant it. ''Weak as she is, she 
could catch cold and start the whole 
thing over." 

At last, however, the inevitable 
could not be longer postponed. 
Phyllis was completely well, and 
there was no possible excuse for a 
registered nurse to stay on. The 
dreaded day arrived when the nurse 
and her mother were to take their 
leave. They tried in every way to 
prepare the little ones for the event, 
and every preparation was a failure. 

"Davey's going, too," Davey an- 
nounced, going to get his little suit- 
case, with Ilene following suit. 
Phyllis watched her nurse with 
mingled fear and apprehension 
dawning in her baby eyes, and 
clutched Margaret whenever she 
moved so much as a foot. 

"You'll have to pack for us both, 
Mother," the nurse said. "Mr. 
Thorpe, this is going to be the hard- 
est thing I ever tried to do." 

"I know," said Steve over the 
lump in his throat, unable to say 
more. A woman was coming in the 
morning to take over— a woman 
Steve had employed because she 
seemed the best of those few he 
had to choose from. She was mid- 
dle-aged and looked strong and had 
been coming to help for a day or so. 

'pHE Grains stood with their coats 
on, their luggage all ready. Steve 
was going to take the children along 
to drive them home. Just as they 
were going out the front door, the 
telephone rang. 



It was for Miss Grain, the nurse's 
registry calling. The conversation 
was quite long, and she was grave, 
listening, answering with a mono- 
syllable or two. Once she said: 
''Well, you know I am getting mar- 
ried in June," and later, "Dr. Har- 
mon suggested you call me? Oh, 
then, of course Fll come." 

Dr. Harmon, Margaret's fiance, 
the object of Steve's burning and 
jealous curiosity! 

'They want me to be temporary 
night superintendent of the hos- 
pital," she said. "Mother, what do 
you think of that?" 

"It would give you shopping time 
in the day. There are some ad- 
vantages, Margaret." 

"It isn't exactly night work. It 
is three to eleven. I told them I'd 
take it. Rex suggested they call me, 
so it must fit his plans." 

Three to eleven/ The only time 
Steve had free was in the evenings. 
There would not even be a possi- 
bility he could see Margaret again 
before her wedding. Steve's heart 
plunged, but he recognized it was 
probably the best thing for him— 
hurt as it might to have her go. 

"So Dr. Harmon is back?" he 
asked conversationally. 

"Back?" queried Margaret. "Dr. 
Harmon hasn't been away." 

"Oh," said Steve, and stopped in 
confusion. "I thought— well he 
hasn't called you— to my knowledge 
—or come to see you." 

"It isn't proper to see me on a 
case. Anyhow, he is a very busy 
man, and only sees me twice a week. 
A doctor has a very tight schedule, 
and must have his rest." 

Steve was silent, remembering his 
own courtship days. This Rex must 

indeed be a cold fish. Steve found 
he disliked him already, without 
having seen the paragon. And a girl 
like Margaret! What was the man 
made of? Margaret was calm about 
it, and seemed thoroughly awed by 
him. Except for that, Steve would 
certainly do as J. T. had suggested: 
"Try to cut the man out." 

Yes, it was better all round that 
Steve wouldn't see her again. 

"Daddy! Let's go!" Davy shout- 

Steve jumped. 

"The bad feature is that you will 
be alone all the time. Mother," 
Margaret was saying. "They expect 
me to live in, but there is no pro- 
vision for you." 

"That's not a problem," boomed 
Steve. "She can stay on here. I'll 
have Mrs. Hall come in to do the 
heavy work, and she can concen- 
trate on the children. How about 
it Mrs. Grain?" 

"I don't see why not. I'm relieved 
at not having to leave these pre- 
cious babies." 

« « « * * 

CO it was arranged. Mrs. Grain 
promptly became "Mama" to 
the children, and Margaret was 
"Other Mama." As such she was 
still the final authority, for she 
called nearly every day. Steve could 
detect evidences of her in the con- 
versation. "Other Mama says no!" 
from Ilene, or "Other Mama 
bought my shoes," from Davey. 

"Margaret says those cowboy 
boots you bought for Davey would 
ruin his feet in ten days. She bought 
him these special children's shoes, 
and some gauntlet gloves to win the 



'Tell her Fm grateful. Fll reim- 
burse her." 

'That- will be fine. She doesn't 
expect you to, but she does need all 
her money just now. Dr. Harmon 
offered her money to help buy the 
trousseau, but of course she re- 

''Nobody ever needs to be 
ashamed of Margaret," Steve said 

"That's what I think," agreed 
Mrs. Grain. 

Yes, it was good she was gone. 
Yet her absence sharpened, rather 
than lessened, the aching longing 
Steve had for her. Why couldn't 
his emotions fasten onto someone 
more within reason of his reaching? 
Miss Tate, for instance? Steve felt 
sure she was inclined toward him, 
if only by the small, nervous ges- 
tures she made whenever he was 
near, the flustered patting of her 
hair that annoyed him so much. 
Was there anything wrong with 
her? She was probably a very nice 
girl, Steve thought, and she irritat- 
ed him only because he was so sure 
that if he should say to her: "Miss 
Tate, will you marry me?" she 
would comply instantly. 

All this, thought Steve, was just 

one more demonstration of his sud- 
den aberration, brought on, no 
doubt, by the unaccustomed ease 
the Grains had brought to his 
household, the release from so 
much responsibility of the little 
ones, and influenced by the desire 
of so many people that he get mar- 
ried—first his mother— then J. T.— 
and even Margaret herself. 

Steve pulled himself up short. No 
doubt even Miss Tate would be 
derisive at his thoughts. He put his 
mind to more productive work, but 
the next day Miss Tate herself con- 
firmed his opinion, at least in part. 
She had brought some letters in for 
him to sign, and waited unneces- 
sarily long. When he looked up, 
she seemed to be frightened. 

He was about to ask if she were 
ill, when she stammered that she 
had two tickets to the symphony, 
but no partner, and wondered if he 
would care to go with her. He 
didn't care to, most definitely, but 
he could see his refusal would be 
embarrassingly painful to her. Be- 
sides, his curiosity had been roused 
by his musings. 

"Why, that is very thoughtful of 
you. Miss Tate. Thank you." 
{To be continued) 

S/ Vl/ouid I lot (Have LJou Vl/eep 

Christie Lund Coles 

I would not have you weep when I am gone, 
Nor say, "We should have done it thus or so," 
I shall have risen to a fairer dawn, 
Than you have ever seen, and I shall know 

Too much of peace to countenance regret. 
Too much of joy to want your sorrow's breath. 
I only ask that you will not forget, 
Will love me in the interim called death. 

fUelvina yoennett Lylark 1 1 Lakes [Braided LKugs 

Melvina Bennett Clark, seventy-two, of Orem, Utah, still enjoys her life-long 
hobby — making braided rugs. She has made hundreds of rugs in round and oval shapes, 
and has e\en tried to make braided rugs in the form of a square. Her favorite rug is 
one which she worked out in color tones of blue and gold. At present she is working 
on a rug which will cover the floor of a ten by twelve-foot room. The only real ability 
required for making braided rugs, Mrs. Clark says, is to be sure to braid them and sew 
them together in such a way that there will be no pulling or bulging, and the rug will 
lie flat. 

The homes of Mrs. Clark's four children and those of many other relatives and 
friends have been made beautiful and comfortable by the lovely braided rugs, the "Hap- 
piness Hobby" of this industrious woman. 

Mrs. Clark loves Relief Society and the Magazine and was for many years a devoted 
visiting teacher. 

cLove s iOesUn^ 

Ada Marie Patten 

I used to think that love, however true. 
With all things mortal, had its temporal day. 
As sunset colors blazon evening skies 
Eventually to turn to cheerless gray. 

But now I know love passes as a seed — 
Dies only to awaken in rebirth. 
With new and brighter growth that reaches far 
And leaves a richer legacy to earth. 

Page 47 


Margaret C. Pickeiing, General Secretary-Treasurer 

All material submitted for publication in this department should be sent through 
stake and mission Relief Society presidents. See regulations governing the submittal 
of material for "Notes From the Field" in the Magazine for April 1950, page 278, and 
the Hnndhook of InstiuctionSy page 123. 


Photograph submitted by Lenore G. Merrill 


October 10, 1953 

Left to right: Esther Holder, work meeting leader; Oma Beaver, Work Director 
Counselor; Donna Powers, Education Counselor; Winnie M. Harmon, President. 

Special features of this unusually successful bazaar were the beautiful quilt, pil- 
low cases, cobbler aprons, and children's wear. A fashion show, with Relief Society 
women and their children acting as models, was a high point of interest in the even- 
ing's entertainment. 

Lenore G. Merrill is president of Long Beach Stake Relief Society. 

Page 48 



Photograph submitted by Pearle U. Winkler 





Front row, seated, left to right: Burdella Terry of Milburn Ward Relief Society; 
lone Rigby, Fairview South Ward; Sarah Rigby, Fairview South Ward; Nellie Neilson, 
Fairview North Ward; Elizabeth Anderson, Fairview South Ward; Elnora Jenkins, 
Milburn Ward. 

Back row, standing, left to right: Alice Nelson, Clear Creek Ward Relief Society; 
Marcella Graham, Fairview South Ward; Emma Evans, Fairview South Ward; Valera 
Cheney, Fairview South Ward; Helen Bohne, Fairview South Ward; Lucy Tucker, 
President of Fairview South Ward Relief Society. 

Pearle U. Winkler is president of North Sanpete Stake Relief Society. 

Photograph sul by Elizabeth B. Reiser 


Left to right: Sister Grimshaw; Sister Loveland, from Utah; Sister Jackson, Second 
Counselor; Sister Boothroyd; Sister Woodruff, President; Sister Townsend, First Coun- 
selor; Sister Alsop, Secretary; Sister Page. 

These women worked diligently to complete the quilt, under the direction of 

Sister Loveland. 

Elizabeth B. Reiser is president of the British Mission Relief Society. 



Photograph submitted by Mabel M. Nalder 


August 30, 1953 

Front row, left to right: Irene Rowland; Edith Rowland; Lena Woods; Gladys 
Robinson; Nora Manspile; Julia Rowland; Ivy Christley; Marie Mullins; Dora Ramsey. 

Second row, left to right: Mamie Johnson, District Relief Society President; 
Beulah Riley; Vernie Clark; Flora Friend, chorister; Dessie Robertson; Edith Henson; 
Tillie Smith; Ethel Coleman; Ava Trent; Maie Henderson; Ruth Blunck. 

Back row, left to right: Hattie Clark; Jane Coleman; Sadie Parr; Camilla Row- 
land; Christine DeBusk, pianist; Eula Angel; Fannie Lilly; Thora Christley; Virginia 
Summers; Janie Crosby. 

Mabel M. Nalder is president of the Central Atlantic States Mission Relief So- 

Photograph submitted by Lanola C. Driggs 


The Harvard Ward Relief Society has made a record of which they can well be 
proud. Since March 1952, they have made a one hundred per cent record of visiting 
teaching. Every district has been covered every month. The teachers are very con- 
scientious and willing, and have many times expressed their love for this work. The 
Relief Society presidency: Marelda Gottfredson, President, and her Counselors Verna 
Hunter and Adele Ernstsen, feel that a great deal of missionary work and the spreading 
of the gospel have been done by this valiant group of workers, 

LaNola C. Driggs is former president of Liberty Stake Relief Society. The new 
president is Verna A. Hunter. 



Photograph submitted by Mavil A. McMurrin 



Front row, seated, left to right: Minnie Carroll; Bernice Black; Second Counselor 
Mardella Coil; President Blanche Abbott; Secretary Helen Bates; First Counselor Opal 

Second row, standing, left to right: Loa Maxwell; Lena Clark; Arvilla Clayton; 
Charlotte Virgin; LaPriel Clayton. 

Third row, standing, left to right: Alma Irwin; Donna Carroll; Leah Edgel; Char- 
lotte Taylor. 

Not present when picture was taken: Alene Anderson, Merlene Anderson, Alice 
Hollist, Dores Osguthorpe, and Arlene Reese. 

President Blanche Abbott, in reporting the activities of this enthusiastic group, 
outlines some of their major projects over the last few years: "We gave dinners and 
had basket socials .... Our first major undertaking was presenting a concert given by 
Estaleah H. Baker, wife of the then Commanding General of Ladd Air Force Base. 
She is a concert singer and donated all the proceeds ... to the building fund. We 
had the concert at the Empress Theater .... We decided each sister would sew one 
article a month for the bazaar. We had twelve sisters .... We held all our meet- 
ings, even when it got to be fifty-six degrees below zero. The sisters from College, 
five miles from Fairbanks, came in on the bus. We had an average of nine present 
.... President and Sister McMurrin visited us to bring words of wisdom and love 
.... In the fall of 1951 we had our bazaar. We invited the people of the city to 
come and we had a wonderful bazaar. Everyone was interested in what the 'Mormons' 
could do .... In March 1952, we gave a branch dinner and had 105 present, and 
the number at that time on the roll of the branch .... In July 1952 President and 
Sister McMurrin returned North, bringing with them Brother and Sister Joseph Field- 
ing Smith. We had our building completed and ready for dedication and it was indeed 
a wonderful service when Brother Smith gave the dedicatoy prayer and presented our 
building to our Heavenly Father for his acceptance. God had indeed blessed the saints 
in this branch .... No task is too large or too small for any sister in this branch .... 
We send our love and pray God's richest blessings on all the sisters and their families 
in this great organization, the Relief Society." 

Mavil A. McMurrin is president of the Northwestern States Mission Relief Society. 



Photograph submitted by Virginia R. Vaterlaus 




Cathrine Mumford, stake music director, who invited this group to sing for stake 
quarterly conference, is seated at the left on the first row of the left section. Seated 
in the third row, in the left section, are stake Relief Society officers: Drucilla Winters, 
Second Counselor; Virginia R. Vaterlaus, President; Martha Sorenson, First Counselor. 
Delilah Loveday, chorister, is seated in the center of the first row in the right-hand 
section; Hazel Jacobsen, organist, is seated at the right in the same section. 

Photograph submitted by Lena W. Glaus 


September 1953 

All of the beautiful aprons, dresses, accessories, and miscellaneous items were 
made from old clothing and materials by the faithful and enthusiastic sisters of 

Lena W. Glaus is former president of the East German Mission Relief Society. 
The new president is Ethel E. Gregory. 



Photograph submitted by Ada S. VanDam 

CONVENTION IN HAARLEM, September 24, 1953 

This photograph shows the Rehef Society sisters singing under the leadership of 
chorister Renstje Vanderlinden. Ada S. VanDam, President, Netherlands Mission 
Relief Society, reports that every district in the mission was represented on the pro- 
gram at this convention. "This convention, planned and directed by Sister Ada S. 
VanDam, with the capable help of Sister Charlotte Green . . . and Sister Renstje Van- 
derlinden and Sister Maria Schippers . . . laid the foundation for a highly successful 
1953-54 season of activity, education, and work .... After opening the meeting with 
appropriate song and prayer and a word of welcome by Sister VanDam, an introduc- 
tion as to the purpose of the meeting . . . was given by Sister Vanderlinden. This 
was followed by a talk on the slogan by Sister Soerilje Koopal from Harlingen; the 
theology lessons by Sister Clasina Bredewoud from Utrecht; work meeting by Sister 
Siementje Groen from Apeldoornl; the Hterature lessons by Sister Mina Hailing, Am- 
sterdam; social science lessons by Sister Alida Eijgelaar, Rotterdam. Various musical 
selections and a demonstrated 'Song practice were included between these splendid 
talks. Then the outlined programs for the March and November Sunday evening 
meetings were ably discussed by Sister Johanna Asscheman from The Hague, who ap- 
peared in a beautiful native Dutch costume, carrying out the November message that 
the Relief Society is a world-wide sisterhood. Sister S. VanDerWal from Hilversum 
appeared in a pioneer costume and discussed the Rehef Society birthday — March 17th. 
Thereafter Sister Green ably discussed record keeping, minute books, and other im- 
portant business and administrative matters .... Attractive gold and blue programs 
listing all the activities for the convention were created in the shape of a Dutch tulip 
and were distributed to all present." 

» ♦ ■ 

Vi/ifiter lugnt 

Beatrice K. Ekman 

Unsullied ice-blades rim the kitchen eaves 
And lend prismatic flame to candlelight. 
Through raveling clouds, a round moon weaves 
A path of gold across the silver night. 


cJkeologyi — Characters and Teachings 
of The Book of Mormon 

Lesson 23— Righteousness and Good Government 

(Text: The Book of Mormon: Mosiah 27-29) 
For Tuesday, April 6, 1954 
Objective: To explain how spirituality undergirds good government. 


The Just Rule of King Mosiah 
ING Mosiah, like his father Ben- 
jamin, worked dihgently to have 
his people attain eternal life. They 
esteemed Mosiah more than any 
other man, for they felt the influ- 
ence of his great and good person- 
ality. He had taught them the 
commandments of God, had la- 
bored assiduously to establish peace 
in the land, and had tried to eradi- 
cate contentions, stealing, plunder- 
ing, murder, and all other types of 
iniquity. He punished according to 
the law whosoever committed in- 

Under divine guidance. King Mo- 
siah had endeavored to govern the 
people in such a manner that his 
acts would be conducive to their 
eternal welfare. Recognizing Alma 
as a great spiritual leader, he had 
given him charge of the ecclesiasti- 
cal affairs in the kingdom. 

Page 54 

Leadeiship of Alma 

Alma, you will recall, was early 
in his life one of the wicked priests 
of King Noah in the land of Nephi. 
Sincerely repenting, he had grown 
to the full stature of a great religious 
leader. Having had to plead with 
God for a forgiveness of his own 
sins, he had learned the need of for- 
giving other repentant sinners. He 
could throw the mantle of charity 
about the sins of others and usher 
them back into the fold of God. 
He knew the joy that is attached to 
repentance and forgiveness. He 
spent his life trying to induce all 
men to experience those joys. 

These two great men, workers in 
a common cause to elevate the 
ideals, aspirations, and actions of 
the people in and around Zarahem- 
la, found many difficulties to over- 



Unbelief of Leaders' Sons 

Chief among the obstacles to 
righteous hving was the fact that 
Alma's son, named Alma, and four 
of Mosiah's sons, Ammon, Aaron, 
Omner, and Himni were numbered 
among the disbelievers. As a mat- 
ter of fact, they were leaders in a 
movement to crush the work their 
fathers so zealously labored to ac- 

Young ''Alma was a very wicked 
and an idolatrous man." He was 
gifted with a smooth tongue and 
could use the language with a high 
degree of facility. He flattered the 
people and led them into all kinds 
of iniquities. He stole away the 
hearts of the people from his father 
and King Mosiah. 

The sons of Mosiah were ''the 
very vilest of sinners." They also 
worked, to the maximum of their 
ability, to destroy the righteous un- 
dertakings of their father and Alma 
the elder. These five recalcitrant 
sons were busily engaged in their 
work of destruction. 

Miraculous Conversion 

One day as the five young men 
were "going about rebelling against 
God," an angel of the Lord ap- 
peared unto them. The angel spoke 
to them in a voice of thunder which 
made the earth shake. He com- 
manded Alma to rise, for he had 
fallen to the earth, and then asked 

Why persecutest thou the church of 
God? For the Lord hath said: This is my 
church, and I will establish it; and noth- 
ing shall overthrow it, save it is the trans- 
gression of my people .... the Lord hath 
heard the prayers of his people, and also 
the prayers of his servant. Alma, who is 
thy father; for he has prayed with much 

faith concerning thee that thou mightest 
be brought to the knowledge of the truth; 
therefore, for this purpose have I come to 
convince thee of the power and authority 
of God, that the prayers of his servants 
might be answered according to their 
faith. . . . And now I say unto thee, Al- 
ma, go thy way, and seek to destroy the 
church no more, that their prayers may 
be answered, and this even if thou wilt of 
thyself be cast off (Mosiah 27:13 ff.). 

Shocked by the appearance of the 
angel and by the words he had 
spoken. Alma the younger and the 
sons of Mosiah fell to the ground. 
They knew of a surety that it was 
the power of God which had made 
the earth tremble. The astonish- 
ment of Alma was so great he be- 
came dumb and could not open 
his mouth. He also became weak 
so he could not move his hands. He 
was carried in a helpless condition 
to his father. 

His father, Alma, rejoiced, for he 
knew that the power of God had 
wrought upon his son. Alma called 
the priests and the people to as- 
semble to witness what had hap- 
pened. The priests fasted and 
prayed to the Lord, petitioning him 
to open the mouth of Alma the son 
and to bring strength to his fimbs 
"that the eyes of the people might 
be opened to see and know of the 
goodness and glory of God" (Mo- 
siah 27:22). 

After two days and nights of fast- 
ing and prayer, strength came into 
the limbs of Alma, and he began to 
speak saying, "I have repented of 
my sins, and have been redeemed 
of the Lord; behold I am born of 
the Spirit. . . . My soul hath been 
redeemed from the gall of bitterness 
and bonds of iniquity. I was in the 
darkest abyss; but now I behold the 



marvelous light of God" (Mosiah 


The Five Sons Become Preachers 
oi Righteousness 

From this time forth Alma and 
the four sons of Mosiah traveled 
throughout all the land confessing 
their sins and telling the people 
how God in his mercy had sent an 
angel from heaven to call them to 
repentance. They were greatly per- 
secuted by unbelievers, being smit- 
ten by many of them; but amidst 
persecution they brought much con- 
solation to the Church, confirming 
the people in their faith and ex- 
horting them to diligence in keep- 
ing the commandments. Zealously, 
they worked to repair the damage 
which they had done to the Church. 
They became powerful instruments 
in the hands of God in bringing 
many people to a knowledge of their 

The Sons of Mosiah Take a 
Mission to the Lamanites 

So impressed with the power of 
the gospel were the sons of Mosiah, 
that they asked their father, the 
King, for the privilege of taking the 
gospel to the Lamanites in the land 
of Nephi. They told him that they 
wanted to convince the Lamanites 
of the iniquity of their fathers and 
thus cure them of their hatred to- 
wards the Nephites and establish an 
era of peace between these two peo- 
ples, and also that they wanted the 
Lamanites to receive the gospel. It 
hurt them to think that any human 
soul should perish. 

They had feared, at times, that 
they would be cast off forever, and 
they desired to make amends for 

their wrongdoings. Mosiah submit- 
ted to the Lord the problem of 
sending his sons to the Lamanites 
and received in answer the follow- 
ing revelation 

Let them go up, for many shall beheve 
on their words, and they shall have eternal 
life; and I will deliver thy sons out of the 
hands of the Lamanites (Mosiah 28:7). 

And these sons went on the mis- 
sion to the land of Nephi. 

Mosiah Proposes to EstahUsh a 
Democratic Government 

Mosiah had no one to confer the 
kingdom upon for there was not any 
of his sons who would accept the 
kingdom. They had renounced the 
kingdom to become humble mis- 
sionaries to the Lamanites. 

Mosiah determined, therefore, to 
give the plates of brass, the plates 
of Nephi, and all the things which 
he had kept and preserved accord- 
ing to the commandments of God, 
with the twenty-four gold plates, to 
Alma, the son of Alma. Mosiah 
had translated these plates of gold 
[Book of Ether, see Ether 1:2] de- 
livered to him by Limhi by means 
of the two stones fastened into the 
two rims of the bow, called inter- 
preters. The people of Mosiah re- 
joiced in the knowledge that they 
thus gained of those people who 
formerly had dwelt upon the land 
and who had been destroyed be- 
cause of their wickedness. 

Mosiah wrote to his people rec- 
ommending that they should not 
have a king but should establish a 
form of government where ''the bur- 
den should come upon all the peo- 
ple, that every man might bear his 
part" (Mosiah 29:34). 



Elder James E. Talmage, in his 
Vitality of Mormonism, copyright 
1919, page 200, gives us an interest- 
ing summary of the pohtical 
achievements of Mosiah: 

In a stirring proclamation he set 
forth the potential dangers of kingly rnle 
and admonished the nation to guard its 
liberty as a sacred possession, and to dele- 
gate the governing powers to officers of its 
own choosing, whom he called judges, who 
should be elected by popular vote, and 
who could be impeached if charged with 
iniquitous exercises of power and be re- 
moved if found unworthy. King Mosiah 
summarized in a masterful way the funda- 
mentals of true democracy. 

His reasons for discouraging the 
selection of a king were, in sub- 
stance, as follows: (1) Aaron, his 
son, whose right it was to be king 
had refused the call. If the king- 
dom was conferred upon another, 
Aaron might regret his decision and 
seek through war to gain his right- 
ful crown; (2) It is better to be 
judged by God than by man; (3) 
Sometimes people suffer under the 
rule of a wicked king, like King 
Noah in the land of Nephi, and are 
taken into bondage; (4) The wick- 
edness of a king leads the people 
astray, and finally, it should be a 
land of liberty where justice and 
equality exist. 

For these reasons Mosiah suggest- 
ed to them that they establish an- 
other form of government, a demo- 
cratic form where the people would 
elect judges and have the power to 
recall them in case they did not 
judge righteous judgments. The 
higher judges could be tried by a 
select group of lower judges, and 
the lower judges could be tried by 
the higher judges. 

Alma the Son Becomes the 
First Chief Judge 

The people, acclaiming the wis- 
dom and foresight of Mosiah, ac- 
cepted his recommendations. Alma 
the son was appointed to be the first 
Chief Judge. Alma now had a dual 
mission, to serve as Chief Judge to 
the people, and to act as their re- 
ligious leader, as High Priest, an of- 
fice that had been conferred on him 
by his father. 

The reign of the judges through- 
out all the land of Zarahemla, 
among all the people who were 
called the Nephites, commenced in 
91 B.C., with Alma the son as 
first Chief Judge. Mosiah died in 
the thirty-third year of his reign at 
the age of sixty-three. Alma the fa- 
ther, the founder of the Church, 
died about the same time, having 
lived eighty-two years. 

Mosiah had lived to shape condi- 
tions in such a manner that he 
established a sound pattern of rep- 
resentative government in America 
at a very early period. He taught the 
people that America was to be a 
land of equality, a land of liberty, 
and that equality and liberty were 
products of a deep and abiding 
spirituality among both leaders and 

Questions for Discussion 

1 . What effect did the conversion of the 
four sons of Mosiah have upon Nephite 

2. Why did Mosiah condemn the king- 
ly form of government? 

3. What values did he see in a repre- 
sentative democracy? 

4. How much did Mosiah value liberty 
among the people? 

5. What lesson can we learn concern- 
ing our representative democracy? 

Visiting cJeacher 1 1 iessages 

Book of Mormon Gems of Truth 

Lesson 23— ''But There Is a Resurrection, Therefore the Grave Hath No 
Victory, and the Sting of Death Is Swallowed Up in Christ'' (Mosiah 16:8). 

Leone O. Jacobs 

For Tuesday, April 6, 1954 

Objective: To give assurance of life after death. 

"IITE shall live again! This is the 
glorious promise of the resur- 
rection! Down through the ages, 
many great and noble souls have 
echoed the words of Job, "I know 
that my Redeemer liveth" (Job 
19:25). History also affirms the 
truth of the resurrection. 

To Latter-day Saints the resur- 
rection is not a fantastic story, not 
a dim hope, but a reah'ty. It is a 
logical sequence to mortality. We 
accept it as an important part of 
the plan of salvation. Latter-day 
Saints have evidence of the resur- 
rection which is not known to the 
world generally. In answer to the 
sincere prayer of Joseph Smith, the 
Father, and the risen Redeemer ap- 
peared to him in person. Later, Jo- 
seph Smith and Sidney Rigdon be- 
held the Savior and heard his voice. 
This is their solemn declaration: 

And now, after the many testimonies 
which have been given of him, this is the 
testimony, last of all, which we give of 
him: That he lives! For we saw him, even 
on the right hand of God; and we heard 
the voice bearing record that he is the 
Only Begotten of the Father — That by 
him, and through him, and of him, the 
worlds are and were created, and the in- 
habitants thereof are begotten sons and 
daughters unto God (D. & C. 76:22-24). 

Latter-day Saints accept birth and 
death as necessary steps to the ad- 
vancement of mankind. We came 

Poge 58 

to this earth to prove ourselves in 
mortality. From here we will go on 
to another stage of development to 
continue eternally. It has been said, 
'To live is to go on a journey. To 
die is but to come back home.'' 

A perfect faith in the resurrection 
tempers the parting with loved 
ones. It brings comfort and tran- 
quility to the hearts of the be- 
reaved, for they are assured that the 
separation is for a relatively short 
period, and is but preliminary to a 
happier state. 

We might say that death itself 
gives credence to the resurrection 
for were there no resurrection, an 
immense waste of time and strug- 
gle and achievement would result. 
Such waste is not consistent with 
the works of God. Surely the plan 
of the Creator which brings planets 
into being, and which creates the 
human body, would not permit 
countless millions of people to 
spend a few years in this troubled 
life, if it were not to be followed 
by something of great consequence. 

" 'I know that my Redeemer liv- 
eth.' He who can thus testify of 
the living Redeemer,'' said Presi- 
dent David O. McKay, "has his soul 
anchored in eternal truth" (Deseret 
NewSy "Church Section," April 16, 

Vi/ork nleeting — Family Money Management 

(A Course Recommended for Use by Wards and Branches at Work Meeting) 

Lesson 7-Spending Your Home Furnishings Dollar-Soft Floor Coverings 

For Tuesday, April 13, 1954 

Rhea H. Gardner 

TN no other field of home furnish- carpet yarn, and blended with wool, 

ings have there been so many new Blends now make up about seventy 

innovations in such a short time as per cent of rug production. In 1952, 

in soft floor coverings. Weave rayon was used in forty-one per cent 

names, such as Wilton and Axmin- of all carpets made; thirty per cent 

ster, are becoming more and more of the entire output of soft floor 

unimportant. Today, there is an coverings was of cotton. One no 

ever-widening choice of new weaves, longer needs to feel that wool is 

fibers, and methods of construction, the only carpet fiber that can be re- 

The kind that is best for you will lied upon. A test was made by 

depend upon your personal needs, sewing strips of fifty per cent wool 

There is a ''best buy" for every need and fifty per cent rayon-blend car- 

and for every room. peting with strips of all wool. After 

No longer can one say that one two years of heavy use, no one was 

fiber produces a better appearing or able to see any difference in the 

better wearing rug than another, wearing qualities of the two weaves. 

Factors other than kind of fiber J^ead the Label. If it says "wool 

must be considered. Generally and rayon/' at least fifty per cent of 

speaking, a dense pile will mean the rug must be made of wool, 

longer wear. The type of construe- There could be as much as ninety- 

tion is not as important as the thick- ^ive per cent. If the label reads 

ness of the pile, according to tests "rayon (or acetate) and wool," the 

made by the National Bureau of ^ug will contain at least fifty per 

Standards. Loop pile construction cent rayon and could go as high as 

repels soil and crushing more than ninety-five per cent, 

does cut pile. The number of rows Some advantages of rayon carpet 

of tufts per inch is no longer the ^iber over wool are: 

only measuring guide to quality. Of i- Carpet rayon has a much greater 

two carpets, each with the same tensile strength than wool 

^ ' . . . , 2. It costs much less than good wool, 

number of rows of tufts per mch, ^ j^ has better surface coverage than 

one might be far superior. all wool. 

Wool will likely forever remain a 4- Jt does not stain easily, and stains 

. . . <-i J M. '1. I,' -u niay be easily removed, because or low 

favorite carpet fiber, due to its high j^^isture absorption of fiber, 

resistance to crushing, resistance to ^^^^ disadvantages are 

soil, ease of cleaning, and good wear- r-, • 1 . 

Ti.- T^ ^4-^ « ol,^^t-«rr« ^f 1- Rayon fiber is weak when wet. 

mg qualities. Due to a shortage of ^ ^J^^^^^ ^^^^^ .^ ^^^^.^^ ^^^^^^^.^^ ^^.^ 

carpet-type wool, however, man- ^o it. (Manufacturers are working to elim- 

made fibers are being woven into inate this.) 

Page 59 



3. It has low resistance to crushing, and 
as it crushes, the color appears to change. 

4. It fades more readily than all wool. 

With the increasing use of cot- 
ton fibers in rugmaking, one cannot 
aflFord to desregard cotton-face car- 
peting, when considering the pur- 
chase of a soft floor covering. 

Some advantages of cotton car- 
peting are: 

1. Prices are lower than for most other 

2. It is mothproof. 

3. Some types are reversible. 

4. Cleaning is simple, if the rug can 
be taken up and sent to a commercial 

5. It wears well. 

Some disadvantages are: 

1. Stains are not easily removed. 

2. It sheds lint. 

3. Cut pile mats down when stepped 

4. All colors are not yet fast to sun- 

5. Cotton has an affinity for soil. 

6. Loose carpeting kicks up easily, if 
not treated. 

7. Cotton carpet stretches. It is par- 
ticularly noticeable in wall-to-fall cotton 
carpeting. Manufacturers are trying to 
find a method of preventing stretching. 

Saron, Fiber E, and nylon are 
other man-made fibers that are be- 

ing tested for carpet use, but it is 
not expected that any of them will 
be available in abundance for some 
time, due either to shortage of sup- 
ply or high cost of production. 

Qualities essential to all soft floor 
coverings that receive any great 
amount of use are: Easy to care for; 
easy to stand and walk on; beauti- 
ful, yet simple, so they will provide 
a quiet background for other room 
furnishings; and practical. 

In order to get the best buy, 
consider what your room will be 
used for, the price you can afford 
to pay, the type of rug— weave, fiber, 
and color— needed to stand the wear 
it will get, and the length of serv- 
ice you will want from it. 

Do read the labels. Deal with a 
reliable merchant. Keep informed 
on developments in the field, in- 
cluding comparative prices. Be 
ready to take advantage of ''best 
buys" when you need to buy. 

Thought ioT Discussion 

Price of carpet is determined by the 
kind and amount of materials used, plus 
cost of man-hours in setting up loom and 
weaving. Some carpets cost less because 
fewer man-hours are required in the man- 
ufacturing process, not because materials 
are inferior. 

GU year 

Giace Sayre 

The last day of the year has wound the clock, 
The last faint ember on the hearth burns low, 
December, pausing, opens up the door; 
He turns to go. 

But as he turns, a joyous peal of bells 
Rings gaily out, beginning a New Year. 
But old December, weary, goes his way. 
He doesn't even hear! 

cLiterature—Jht Literature of England 

Lesson 39-Robert Browning, ''Poet of Personality" (1812-1889) 

Elder Briant S. /acobs 
Textbook: The Liteiatuie of England, II, Woods, Watt, Anderson, pp. 655-709 

For Tuesday, April 20, 1954 

Objective: To study Browning's lite and works, that we might come to see more 
fully the unifying values they contribute to each other. 

Biowning's Love for Mankind creation. Then, too, Browning be- 

JN our last lesson the boy David lieved that, since this life is largely 

led King Saul to inner peace by a testing ground, it would not ful- 

revealing anew to him the love and fill its purpose were evil non-exist- 

sympathy Christ has for men. In- ent. Finally, the presence of evil 

deed we might say that Browning's in a person did not make him less 

concept of God is centered about than human. Despite our weak- 

the word Jove; in similar manner nesses. Browning believed we should 

Browning's own attitude toward regard each other with understand- 

man and woman, is based upon the ing and sympathy, 

same key word. Love for mankind, then, enabled 

Like Shakespeare, Browning saw Browning to depict all types of 

the world as a stage, whose players characters. Browning's more typical 

are brought to life through the use of love, however, was to elevate 

craftsmanship of a Master Artist, the beauty, the worth of married 

Like Shakespeare, Browning created love; here the truth of human love 

all types of humanity, motivated by becomes the very keystone of his 

all the human passions: selfishness, view of life. 

cruelty, fleshly and intellectual lust, Browning's love poems are nu- 
hate, jealousy, sloth, loyalty, love, merous, and saturated with his burn- 
faith, spirituality. He seeks neither ing testimony that love between 
to judge humanity nor to analyze the sexes is the highest good on 
and explain it, but only to condense earth. In "The Last Ride Togeth- 
the reality of a character into a few er" (not in our text), the poem 
lines of poetry. concludes: 

Immediately the question pre- ^^^ -^ ^^ ^^U ^de on, we two 

sents itself: How can Brownmg, with hfe forever old yet new, 

who never qualifies his ringing belief Changed not in kind but in degree, 

in the essential goodness of both The instant made eternity,— 

man and God, admit that evil is al- ^^^^^^US^Z^^^ 
so an mherent part of man s nature? 

Browning was fascinated by the Others of his love poems are, 'Tn 

workings of evil in man, because a Gondola" (text, page 660); 

wherever there is evil there must "Meeting at Night" (text, page 

also be inner conflict and struggle— 666); 'Two on the Campagna," 

a complexity of motives which chal- ''Love Among the Ruins," and "My 

lenge his powers of perception and Star" (text, page 681), all acknowl- 

Poge 61 



edging the power of mortal love, 
yet all tending to spiritualize this 
relationship into something divine. 
As long as English is spoken, 
Elizabeth Barrett Brov^ning's Son- 
nets From the Portuguese will never 
be forgotten by a world which loves 
a lover. Particularly memorable is 
"How do I love thee? Let me count 
the ways . . ." (text, page 714) 
which might well be read in present- 
ing this lesson. Robert answered 
his lover in kind, notably in 
"My Star" (text, page 681) and 
the poem to The Ring and the 
Book which was dedicated to his 

O lyric Love, half angel and half bird, 
And all a wonder and a wild desire — 
Boldest of hearts that ever braved the sun, 
Took sanctuary within the holier blue, 
And sang a kindred soul out to his face — 
Yet human at the red-ripe of the heart — 
(text, page 707, lines 1-5) 

Here indeed is a great love unit- 
ing two great hearts. 

However, Robert Browning's 
greatest writings are not his love 
poems. To serious students of 
Browning, probably some of his 
best-loved poems are "My Last 
Duchess" (text, page 659); "The 
Bishop Orders His Tomb at St. 
Praxed's Church" (text, page 670); 
and "Rabbi Ben Ezra" (text, page 


The Dramatic Monologue 

Browning is one of the most mod- 
ern of Victorian poets. So much 
did he expect of readers that, for the 
most part, they were bewildered 
and could make nothing of him. 
Two sources of his difficulty should 
be mentioned. First, Browning had 
saturated himself so completely 
with his historical and imaginary 

materials that, to an extent, he freed 
himself from details in his intense 
concern for creating the whole. This 
goal of condensing into a few con- 
centrated lines a living, unified 
character was so strong that Brown- 
ing sometimes neglected relation- 
ship between the parts, and his 
readers became confused. 

A second cause, producing similar 
difficulties, was that Browning chose 
the spoken monologue as his med- 
ium, and with his goal of bringing 
the reader immediately and inti- 
mately into a dramatic, crucial mo- 
ment in the life of the speaker, the 
monologue wanders loosely from 
one idea to another, and supplies 
little connection between widely 
scattered subjects. 

My Last Duchess 
Note to Chss Leaders: 

In presenting 'The Last Duchess" it 
would be advantageous for copies of the 
poem to be in the hands of class mem- 

Surely, for many readers, if they 
have loved one poem in English 
literature it has been "My Last 
Duchess" (text, page 659). And 
justly so, for where else in fifty-six 
lines is condensed an entire way of 
life as exemplified by two charac- 
ters whom we come to know as 
well as these? The great delight in 
the poem comes when it ends 
abruptly and we begin to realize 
how far we have come in so short 
a distance. Then a few casual com- 
ments on a portrait are recognized 
for the masterpiece they are, in 
which every brush stroke reveals to 
us far more than the Duke of Fer- 
rara intended. 


The scene of the poem is an up- the artist. Seeing the astonished 

per hallway or gallery in the palace look on the envoy's face, indeed 

of the Italian Duke. The time is the from past experience expecting it, 

sixteenth century, when Italian the Duke *'by design" points out 

royalty was at the height of its that the artist was a celibate monk, 

wealth, power, and love of culture. The Duke's ''design," is to justify 

The Duke has slipped away from all the evident precautions he was 

the main company of guests to dis- forced to take to prevent his lady 

cuss with a Count's envoy his re- from starting a flirtation or a love 

quest for the Count's daughter as a affair. He might well label as ' pre- 

bride. Previous to the opening of cautions" his choosing a celibate 

the poem, the two men have prob- monk as artist, and allowing the 

ably been strolling about, discussing artist to be near his Duchess, but 

practical details for the marriage one fleet day; but when he points 

contract, interspersed with proud out that he alone uncurtains the 

explanatory comments by the Duke painting— that even now, when she 

on his various art treasures as the is either dead or imprisoned, she 

two men pass them by. They ap- is his and his only, then the raging 

proach a curtained portrait; the jealousy of the Duke becomes more 

Duke draws back the curtain, and evident. 

the poem begins as the two men Her great fault then stands re- 
stand admiring the painting. vealed: she could not save her love- 
in contrast to ''My Future Duch- hness and "spot of joy" for him 
ess" just being discussed, here is my alone. While he approved of 
last one, but said so impersonally courtesy in her, a mark of good 
that she might have been but one of breeding, his pride suffered unbear- 
many, even as the new one may be, ably when he received from her 
should she prove herself unworthy, merely the same dazzling smile that 
In the next two lines the Duke she freely gave to the sunset, to the 
evaluates the painting as a work of mule, to anybody, even to "no- 
art (not at all as a person, let alone bodies." 

someone he has loved), thus dis- Nor could the Duke lower him- 

playing both his discriminating self to so vulgar a level as to point 

critical powers and his pride of out to his lovely, innocent wife her 

ownership. After telling the en- weakness. Then, says the Duke, 

voy that the picture was painted in whether she accepted my comment 

one day by an artist-monk, the or fought it, I would be lowered by 

Duke invites him to sit beside him the mere mention of the matter 

while they discuss the painting. ''and I choose never to stoop." 

"I said 'Fra Pondolf by design," Next the Duke says, "She smiled, 

says the Duke. But what is his de- no doubt, whene'er I passed her." 

sign? Like all others who had not We must ask why the Duke says 

known the Duchess personally, the "no doubt"? Because, in the later 

envoy was struck at once with the stages of their strained relationship, 

"depth and passion of its earnest he could not even bear looking at 

glance," as if she were enamored of her as he strode by. Then, true to 



A Perry Picture 



his concept of aristocracy, the Duke 
mentions her demise in the proper, 
vague, genteel language which such 
unpleasant subjects merit, as if to 
say, ''Of course you, an underling, 
dare not ask for more details con- 
cerning her end, and, really, I have 
already said more than is necessary. 
But don't forget how violently an 
ill-bred woman upsets any true 
gentleman, and don't forget, when 
you return, to whisper a few proper 
words of wisdom into proper ears." 
Then, as if to conceal his true in- 
tent of mentioning so delicate a 
matter to a representative of his fi- 
ancee, he ends the discussion of his 
last Duchess by again discussing her 
portrait as an artistic achievement 
(lines 46-47). 
The interview is ended. As they 

rise to rejoin the company, the dis- 
cussion of dowry is resumed. Nor 
does the Duke want to be misunder- 
stood: he is marrying the Count's 
daughter for her own charms, not 
for the sizable fortune he now in- 
sists she brings when he accepts her 
as worthy of his name. 

As is fitting, the menial falls be- 
hind the royal Duke as they ap- 
proach the stairs, but the Duke in- 
sists she brings when he accepts her 
heard such intimate outpourings can 
well be treated for a moment as an 
equal. The poem ends on a note 
exactly corresponding to its open- 
ing: the objective discussion of 
works of art as such, interpreted by 
their lord and master. 

This poem can be appreciated 
from three different points of view. 
How would you evaluate it were you 
a fellow nobleman of the Italian 
Renaissance? How if you were 
Browning himself? How, if you were 
an Englishman either Victorian or 
modern? While it becomes almost 
inevitable for us to cast the Duch- 
ess as heroine, the Duke as villain, 
it should be pointed out that 
Browning himself blames or con- 
demns neither. Possibly, then, in de- 
ference to Browning's discussed at- 
titude toward his fellows, we should 
at least present the possibility that 
the Duke, living in the time and 
place he did, was not all bad, and 
the Duchess possibly was not all 

R^bhi Ben Ezra 

It is fitting that we conclude our 
study of Browning, ''the poet of 
personality," by discussing "Rabbi 
Ben Ezra" (text, page 698), since 
it gives us Browning's own beliefs 



in poetic form. In a reading of this 
poem it is impossible to conjure in 
one's inner eye any portrait of the 
Rabbi which does not have the 
face, the voice, and the ringing af- 
firmations of Browning himself. In- 
deed, so completely has the poet re- 
vealed himself in his poem that it 
has come to be Browning; therefore, 
for Rahbi substitute Robeit; for Ben 
substitute Browning, and let the E 
in Ezra stand for Esquire. Thus the 
poem is truly titled. 

In approaching ''Rabbi Ben Ezra'' 
we should remind ourselves that 
Browning was never a systematic 
philosopher; therefore let us be 
grateful for whatever random mor- 
sels of his truth and beauty we find 
herein. We should also remember 
that, while Browning was never in- 
tentionally obscure, sometimes his 
lines are nonetheless twisted, cryp- 
tic, and difficult. 

Published in 1864, three years 
after the death of Browning's wife, 
this poem states the religious and 
moral credo of the mature Brown- 
ing. Since unity with his beloved 
Elizabeth was now possible in mem- 
ory only, Browning here seems to 
inventory whatever powers and be- 
liefs remain to sustain him. 

Primarily the poem is a statement 
of unities: youth and age form a 
completeness; so do doubt and 
faith, flesh and soul, joy and pain, 
man and God, mortality and im- 
mortality, life and death. The tone 
of the poem is one of vigorous re- 
assurance, of gratitude for the rich, 
full life which God grants to mor- 
tals, with its crowning glory of old 
age and, finally, immortality. 

Perhaps the first stanza is the 

most famous one, and is widely 

Grow old along with me! 

The best is yet to be, 

The last of life, for which the first was 

Our times are in his hand 
Who saith, "A whole I planned, 
Youth shows but half. Trust God; see all, 

nor be afraid!" 

( text, page 698, lines 1-6) 

Browning's main intent is to af- 
firm his trust in a God who, having 
created man and placed him on 
earth, proves his love for man and 
the perfection of his plan, by giving 
man life and joy (lines 55-60). But 
before man can know his joy, says 
Browning, he should come to know 
the doubt which lower forms of life 
cannot possess, but a doubt which 
is the necessary preliminary to a 
sustaining faith (lines 16-21 ) . These 
noble doubts are vanquished when 
we realize that God has first or- 
dained pain for man, that finally he 
might come to know pleasure and 

Then, welcome each rebuff 

That turns earth's smoothness rough, 

Eacn sting that bids nor sit nor stand 

but go! 
Be our joys three-parts pain! 
Strive, and hold cheap the strain; 
Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never 

grudge the throe! 

(text, page 698, lines 31-37) 

After listing misunderstandings 
and conflicts which have pained 
him, Browning uses the imagery of 
Isaiah and Jeremiah in comparing 
man to a cup made on the potter's 
wheel of God. God's work is good; 
all his materials and achievements 
in forming man are eternal (lines 
157-162), and, knowing this, man 



should "look up" and shape him- 
self into the perfect vessel God in- 
tended him to be: 

My times be in Thy hand! 
Perfect the cup as planned! 
Let age approve of youth, and 
death complete the same! 

(text, page 700, lines 190-192) 

Questions for Discussion 

1. What was Browning's attitude to- 
ward love? 

2. Why is the dramatic monologue the 
tool ideally shaped to fulfill Browning's 
intent as a poet? 

3. Justify the description of Browning 
as the "poet of personality." 

Social Science — The Constitution 
of the United States 

Lesson 6— The Philadelphia Convention 

Elder Albert R. Bowen 

For Tuesday, April 27, 1954 

Objective: To study the environment in which the Constitution was written; to 
observe the methods employed by the convention in considering its provisions; and to 
detennine the reasons why the Constitutional Convention was a success. 

Importance of Convention of 1787 

"PARRAND, the historian, says 
that the Federal Constitutional 
Convention of 1787 was the most 
important convention that ever sat 
in the United States. Considering 
its great importance and the tre- 
mendous consequences which were 
to flow from it, it is not an an over- 
statement to assert that the Con- 
stitutional Convention of 1787 was 
one of the fateful assemblies of his- 
tory. So far as political history is 
concerned, no assembly ever held 
was of greater significance to man- 
kind. Out of it was to emerge, in 
a remarkably brief period of time, 
the greatest political document of 
all time. 

Some of the members of the 
Convention sensed the significance 
of the task before them. James 
Madison (Virginia) said the Con- 
vention was ''now to decide forever 
the fate of Republican govern- 

ment.'' Gouverneur Morris (Penn- 
sylvania) declared: ''The whole hu- 
man race will be affected by the pro- 
ceedings of this Convention." James 
Wilson (Pennsylvania), with equal 
seriousness, stated: "After the lapse 
of six thousand years since the cre- 
ation of the world, America now 
presents the first instance of a peo- 
ple assembled to weigh deliberately 
and calmly and to decide leisurely 
and peaceably upon the form of gov- 
ernment by which they will bind 
themselves and their posterity." 
James Wilson was absolutely correct 
in this statement. Never before in 
all history had there been a com- 
parable gathering called together by 
the will of a sovereign people to de- 
termine their form of government. 

Attendance oi Delegates 

The Convention was called to 
meet at Philadelphia on the second 
Monday of May in 1787. The first 
meeting could not be held, however, 



until May 25th. It was not until 
then that a majority of the states 
were represented by delegates. This 
was due, in part, to difficulties at- 
tendant upon travel in those early 
days, and to a reluctance upon the 
part of some of the delegates even 
to attend. Indeed, some of them 
never attended. As we view the tre- 
mendous significance of the events 
which were about to be enacted up- 
on the stage of history, it is difficult 
for us to comprehend the lack of 
foresight and sense of history-in-the- 
making, which kept twenty-one of 
the delegates named from ever at- 

In all, seventy-four delegates were 
named by twelve of the states. 
Rhode Island refused to name dele- 
gates and was never represented at 
the Convention. Of the seventy- 
four delegates named, only fifty-five 
ever attended. Some only attended 
part of the time, and average at- 
tendance was from thirty to thirty- 
five. The Constitution, therefore, 
was the product of a relatively small 
group of men. It is eloquent testi- 
mony of the sagacity and political 
wisdom of those who did the actual 

George Washington, 
the Piesiding OSicei 

The Convention met in the old 
State House in Philadelphia. Wash- 
ington was the unanimous choice to 
preside. While his occupancy of 
the chair prevented him from tak- 
ing active part in the debates, his 
influence was great. He was always 
available for advice and encourage- 
ment of the work of the Conven- 
tion. It is certain that no delegate 
exerted a greater influence than he 

in bringing the Convention to a 
successful conclusion. 

It was soon to become apparent 
that great powers of persuasion and 
conciliation would be required to 
hold the Convention together and 
to bring about the great compro- 
mises (to be studied in lesson 7), 
which were reflected in the final 
draft which was signed some three 
months later. Washington was to 
provide the diplomacy, tact, and 
persuasiveness necessary to the ac- 
complishment of the work. He was, 
by all odds, the greatest American 
of his day. He was universally re- 
spected and trusted. Any cause 
which enjoyed his sponsorship was 
already half assured of success. 

Much of the progress made was 
accomplished in informal sessions 
between regular meetings of the 
Convention. It was in these inform- 
al discussions that Washington was 
to prove the tremendous power of 
his influence. The debates upon 
the proposals and counter-proposals 
were often heated and, at times, 
were bitter. The weather was very 
hot during most of the time the 
Convention was in session. The 
long and arduous work necessary to 
adjust and compromise very funda- 
mental disagreements, threatened to 
disrupt the Convention entirely and 
to make its efforts a failure. 

It was during this period that 
Franklin made the proposal that 
"prayers imploring the assistance of 
Heaven ... be held in this Assembly 
every morning." This proposal was 
never put to a vote. Had it been, 
perhaps many of the difficulties en- 
countered might have been much 
more easily surmounted. To both 
Franklin and Washington belongs 



the credit for reconciling the great 
differences and disputes among the 
delegates and in bringing about ac- 
ceptable compromise solutions. 

Procedure of the Convention 

The Convention had full power 
to make its own rules, and very 
early in its discussions it was decided 
that voting should be by states, each 
state having one vote, and that 
meetings would be held in executive 
session in order that the delegates 
would be in a position to speak 
freely. Nothing was to be made 
public until the work of the Con- 
vention was finished. The delegates, 
to a remarkable degree, respected 
the decision to keep the work of the 
Convention confidential. Sentries 
were even posted at the doors of the 
Convention hall to keep anyone 
from finding out what was going 

To illustrate how little news of 
the business of the Convention 
leaked out to the public, after the 
sessions had ended, a woman ac- 
quaintance of Franklin asked him, 
''Well, Doctor, what have we got, 
a republic or a monarchy?" He re- 
plied, *'A republic, if you can keep 
it." This incident occurred in Phil- 
adelphia in the city where the Con- 
vention held all of its meetings. 

A secretary was appointed and a 
daily journal was kept. The Con- 
vention Journal was, in reality, only 
a record of the motions put and 
votes taken thereon. It shed little 
light upon the actual proceedings 
and debates. It is to James Madi- 
son that we are indebted for by far 
the most illuminating and compre- 
hensive record of what went on in 
the debates. 

Preparedness oi Virginia Delegation 
The Virginia delegation was ex- 
pected to play a prominent role in 
the Convention. It fully lived up 
to all prior expectations. Besides 
Washington, it was made up of 
James Madison, Governor Edmund 
Randolph, nominal head of the del- 
egation, George White, and George 
Mason, who were prominent law- 
yers, and others. James Madison 
was to prove to be the political ex- 
pert of the Convention and was 
destined to play a dominating role 
in the framing of the Constitution. 
In importance he stood next to 
Washington. This delegation, fur- 
thermore, represented what might 
be termed the large state faction of 
the Convention, which was de- 
termined to create a strong national 
government to cure the weakness 
and impotence of the Confedera- 
tion. The members of the Virginia 
delegation were prepared. After the 
Convention was organized they 
came forward with fifteen proposals 
in the form of resolutions to be con- 
sidered by the Convention. 

Work by Committees 

The actual work of the Conven- 
tion (to be studied in lesson 7) was 
done by committees. The Virginia 
proposals were placed before the 
Convention and were immediately 
referred to the Committee of the 
Whole where they were taken up 
one by one. The Committee of the 
Whole studied and debated these 
resolutions for two weeks, and then 
reported back to the Convention in 
the form of nineteen resolutions. 
The nineteen resolutions were like- 
wise taken up and debated one by 



one. Other proposals, some from 
the outside, were also considered. 

The work of the Convention pro- 
ceeded in this way until July 26, 
1787. As yet not one line of the 
Constitution had been written, but, 
with agreement reached upon each 
proposal considered, the Conven- 
tion referred to the Committee of 
Detail the actual draftsmanship of 
the accepted proposals. It was the 
duty of this committee to reduce 
the abstract proposals which had 
been approved into concrete form. 

Making the Draft of the 

The Committee of Detail worked 
with tireless energy and industry, 
and, on August 6, 1787, reported to 
the Convention and furnished every 
member with a proposed draft. 
Then the work of consideration be- 
gan over again. Section by section 
and Hne by line the delegates con- 
sidered this draft from beginning 
to end. Matters of disagreement 
were again referred to special com- 
mittees. Changes were made and 
incorporated until, finally, on Sep- 
tember 8, 1787, the work of con- 
struction was complete. 

With this accomplished, the 
work still went on, and the Consti- 
tution was placed in the hands of 
the Committee of Style to revise 
the style and arrange the articles 
which had been agreed to. The 
Committee of Style was composed 
of Gouverneur Morris and James 
Wilson, delegates of Pennsylvania. 
Morris wrote out the Constitution 
in his own hand and in a style 
which has ever since made it famous 
as an example of lucid English ex- 
pression. For its language, alone, the 

Constitution stands among the great 
documents of history. 

The Constitution as a document 
is relatively simple in form. Its 
language is noted for its clarity, di- 
rectness of expression, and con- 
ciseness. It contains about six thou- 
sand words and is, therefore, brief, 
as such documents go. It contains 
no surplus verbiage of any kind. 

The Committee of Style reported 
its work to the Convention on 
September 12, 1787. There were still 
further revisions until, finally, the 
completed work was finished on 
September 17, 1787. On that day 
the Constitution of the United 
States was signed by thirty-nine del- 
egates of the twelve states repre- 
sented in the Convention. 

Franklin's Statements 

In his final words to the Conven- 
tion, Benjamin Franklin said, "It 
astonishes me, sir, to find the sys- 
tem approaching so near to perfec- 
tion as it does." Franklin was past 
his eightieth year when named as 
a member of the Pennsylvania dele- 
gation. He was feeble (Farrand, 
Fathers of the Constitution, page 
113) and made his greatest contri- 
bution by wise suggestions and con- 
ciliation. During the signing of 
the Constitution he made the re- 
mark that during the Convention 
''often and often" he had looked at 
the sun which was painted on the 
president's chair, not knowing 
whether it represented a rising or a 
setting sun. He then said: ''Now, 
at length, I have the happiness to 
know that it is a rising and not a 
setting sun." 

Completion of the Constitution 
The writing of the Constitution 






I Walked Today Where Jesus 

Walked— O'Hara -.- .22 

King of Glory— Parks 20 

Let the Mountains Shout for 

Joy — Stephens 15 

Lord Bless You and Keep You — 

Lutkin 20 

Oh, May I Know the Lord As 

Friend — Madsen 20 

Teach Me to Pray — Jewitt 15 

That Sweet Story of Old— West 20 

Thanks Be to God — Dickson 16 

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was indeed a memorable accom- 
plishment. The work and proceed- 
ings of the Convention provide a 
guide and a pattern that all bodies 
who seek to enact laws or create 
systems of government to govern 
men ought to follow. The approach 
to this great and important task was 
influenced in no small degree by 
the admonition of Washington, 
who said: "Let us raise a standard 
to which the wise and the honest 
can repair; the event is in the hands 
of God/' 

Who would cavil at the state- 
ment of Washington? Certainly not 
a Latter-day Saint. The event was 
indeed in the hands of God, and 
through wise men raised up for that 
very purpose the Constitution had 
become an accomplished reality. 


Farrand, Max: ThQ Fathers oi the Con- 
stitution, Yale University Press, 1921 (if 

Smith, Joseph Fielding: The Piogress oi 
Man, pp. 293-294. 

Questions for Discussion 

1. What was the number of delegates 
appointed and how many actually attend- 
ed the convention? What was the aver- 
age attendance? 

2. What was the method by which the 
convention did its work in writing the 
Constitution? Was this a good method? 

3. How long was the convention in 

4. Who actually wrote the document? 

5. Did the members of the convention 
have any conception of the importance 
of their work? 

6. Name some of the most important 
men of the convention. Did Thomas 
Jefferson take part? Why not? 

7. Discuss the difference between the 
Declaration of Independence and the 

Xi/inter its for // Comers 

Lucille Waters Mattson 

Spring may be for romance, summer for children, autumn for thanksgiving, but 
winter is for mothers. The first snowfall should touch the spring of anticipation in a 
mother's heart as it does in a child's. Romps in the snow with the children, snowball 
fights, or making snowmen are delightful experiences. 

A young mother once said to me, "All I do all winter is put on little overshoes 
and snowsuits and take them off again." I thought, what a lovely opportunity to kiss 
a rosy face, as it looks up for help with strings and buttons. What better time to 
teach orderhness and care of clothes? 

Days too wet or cold for outside play are jewels of love set in memory by such 
simple things as making cookies together, or painting a page in a color book, or letting 
imaginations run wild in make-believe. 

Summer widens the world for children, trails beckon, friends call, and many in- 
fluences and interests exclude mother a little, but winter is mother's own time. Time 
to correct a word of slang picked up outside the home, time to teach righteousness, 
and honesty and generosity. A time when mother is the center of the small child's 
interests, winter is a golden opportunity for weaving memories. Stories by the fire, 
stories from scripture, fine music, and poetry will long be remembered. Long evenings 
are for confidences from little lips, while popping corn or pulling candy. 

A warm, bright home in a world of cold, gray skies is the loom upon which 
mothers may weave the perfect pattern of the gospel. Not by preaching, but by 



Three 1954 Conducted 





The Hisforic Train includes: 
shrines o f t h e Church, the 
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and many large eastern cities 
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For complete details write or phone: 


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Page ''2 

Swift S Re ten 

Thelma ]. Lund 

There in the alpine meadow 
The purple winter glow 
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Shale ice ledges the stream banks, 
Deep water glitters clear, 
Where a coyote bends with caution 
To drink at the fringes of fear. 

Wind whines down from the gullies. 
Its blade edged sharp with avowal; 
As darkness weaves, shadows together 
And the coyote haunches to howl. 

Co/or f iotes of 'Jjawn 

Elsie McKinnon Shachan 

Dawn is in the orchestra pit 
Rendering the prelude of day 
In color notes across the sky; 
While mists, night-curtain gray. 
Slowly rise; and the mind detects 
Music beyond word — 
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PERMIT No. 690 


NOV 54 



David O. McKay, Pres. 


Salt Lake City - Utah 


[L '*^-- 


iissons, for May 



(glacier 1 1 iountain 

Hazel Loomis 

Ye peaks that wait in chaste white robes! 

Ye patriarchs of stone and star! 

Ye guardians of the stark white heights! 

Who knows the depth of shadows in your walls? 

Out of thy silence, 



From out thy miles of lofty silence, 

No song of bird, no whisper note. 

No sound of earth-weight groaning, 

No shifting of cold-washed stone. 

And yet with earth's most ancient words 

A glacier 


Thy voice, oh, mountain, like mist rises; 

And soft, it falls, as snow upon the fawn. 

No sound of torrents, no waves dashing, 

No rocks breaking on thy shores. Only peace .... 

And I, a prodigal, come home ... to hear 
in tones of silence 

A glacier 


The Cover: Rushmore National Memorial, Black Hills, South Dakota 
Photograph by Josef Muench 

Frontispiece: Yosemite Valley, California 

Photograph by David Gardner 

Cover Design by Evan Jensen 

Qjrora I Lear and Qjc 


I consider it an honor to appear in 
such a fine Magazine. I enjoy so much 
the material in its pages. Many of the 
stories are excellent, and I consider the 
poetry of the finest, I am enjoying the 
articles "First Ladies of Our Land/' by 
Elsie C. Carroll, and the fine articles on 
the life of President David O. McKay 
by Jeanette McKay Morrell. 

— Myrtle M. Dean 

Provo, Utah 

I feel I should write saying how thrilled 
I am getting The Relief Society Magazine. 
I love to read the stories in it and the 
lessons, and it seems to me that in every 
way it is a publication worthy of a 
Relief Society organized by the true 
Prophet of God. 

— Maude H. Begay 

Kaibeto Store 
Tonalea, Arizona 

The lovely poetry in our Magazine al- 
ways gives me a great deal of pleasure. 
I usually read "Woman's Sphere" and a 
few of the poems before I settle myself to 
reading the rest of the articles. 

— Mrs. Bertha F. Cozzens 
Powell, Wyoming 

I would like to take this opportunity to 
express my appreciation for The Relief 
Society Magazine. When I was residing in 
the "States" I was always interested in 
the contributions from the lands across 
the seas, never dreaming that one day I, 
too, would be in the "From Near and 
Far" department. It is a wonderful feel- 
ing to walk into a group of strange people, 
miles from home, and know that you are 
one with them, for that is the reception 
I received from the good sisters in the 
Liverpool Branch. I had read of their 
activities in the Magazine, now they are 
my activities, also. The Magazine is a 
link with home. I enjoy every page and 
certainly don't want to miss a copy. 
— Mrs. Virginia Gott 

Burtonwood, Lancashire, 

As a past Rehef Society president and 
literature leader, I have the deepest love 
and respect for the organization's Maga- 
zine. We have recently moved from Salt 
Lake City to Baldwin Park, California. 
It has been an inspiration and a testimony 
to us to be welcomed and accepted 
among the Latter-day Saints here in such 
a short time. It makes us realize that 
the work we are engaged in is truly all 

— Margaret B. Coombs 
Baldwin Park, California 

I enjoy reading the wonderful stories 
and articles in the Magazine, also the 
poetry, I enjoy Relief Society work very 
much and one day decided to try to write 
a few lines in appreciation: 

"Charity never faileth" 
Has ever been your creed. 
You comfort the sad and lonely 
And provide for those in need. 

Seek knowledge, honor womanhood, 
Love beauty, truth, and light — 
These and other virtues 
You have taught with all your might. 

Now, as we view your accomplishments 
Of all the years gone by. 
We know you were inspired 
By him who dwells on high. 

So may God guard, protect, and guide you 
And all your daughters fine; 
May the glorious work continue 
Until the end of time. 
— Maud Hyer 

Lewiston, Utah 

I just received the July issue of The Re- 
lief Society Magazine, and, as always, have 
enjoyed it thoroughly. May I take this 
opportunity to tell you how much the 
Magazine has meant to me here in Cen- 
tral America. For two years it has been 
my only link with Relief Society. The 
beautiful poems, stories, messages from 
the Authorities, and the lessons are truly 
soul inspiring, and I am very grateful for 
each issue. 

— Rachel Greenland 

Sucursal, Salvador 

Page 74 


Monthly Publication of the Relief Society of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints 


Mary G. Judd 
Anna B. Hart 
Edith S. Elliott 
Florence J. Madsen 
Leone G. Layton 
Blanche B. Stoddard 

Editor - 
Associate Editor 
General Manager 

Belle S. Spaflord 
Marianne C. Sharp 
Velma N. Simonsen 
Margaret C. Pickering 

Evon W. Peterson 
Leone O. Jacobs 
Mary J. Wilson 
Louise W. Madsen 
Aieine M. Young 
Josie B. Bay 


First Counselor 

Second Counselor 

- Secretary-Treasurer 

Christine H. Robinson Charlotte A. Larsen 

Alberta H. Christensen 

Nellie W. Neal 

Mildred B. Eyring 
Helen W. Anderson 
Gladys S. Boyer 

Edith P. Backmon 
Winniefred S. 
Elna P. Haymond 


Marianne C. Sharp 

Vesta P. Crawford 

Belle S. Spafford 

Vol. 41 


NO. 2 



'Teast Upon the Words of Christ" Louise W. Madsen 76 

In Memonam — Matthew Cowley — or the Man of Many Friends Spencer W. Kimball 78 

bocial Activities in Relief Society Blanche B. Stoddard 83 

To Washington Lucille Waters Mattson 107 


■'Beside the Still Waters" — Second Prize Story Mary Ek Knowles 81 

Valentine for Susan Dorothy Oakley Rea 92 

The Right Touch Cecil Pugmire 101 

Ihe Deeper Melody— Chapter 5 Alice Morrey Bailey 112 


From Near and Far . 74 

Sixty Years Ago % 

Woman's Sphere Ramona'W." Cannon 97 

Editorial: "Forgetting Self" Vesta P. Crawford 98 

Birthday Greetings to Former President Amy Brown Lyman 99 

Notes From the Field: Relief Society Activities Margaret C. Pickering 117 


Hobbies Help to Keep Her Young (Lillie Walker) 106 

From Cedar Chest to Dressing Table Clara Laster 108 

The Finest Career of All Pauline M. Henderson 110 

Lost Mittens? Elizabeth Williamson 1 1 1 


Theology: Alma, Son of Alma Leiand H. Monson 124 

Visiting Teacher Messages: "Seek Not to Counsel the Lord, But to Take Counsel From 

His Hand" Leone O. Jacobs 128 

Literature: Charlotte Bronte Briant S. Jacobs 132 


Glacier Mountain — Frontispiece Hazel Loomis 73 

In Tune Anna H. Michie 80 

Heart Tones Ida Isaacson 91 

For Such As This Pansye H. Powell 100 

Valentine for Rosemary Ethel Jacobson 105 

Forever the Dream Mary Gustafson 105 

Frost Lucy Woolley Brown 106 

Bread „ Christie Lund Coles 107 

Late Blizzard Maryhale Woolsey 107 

Day's End Gertrude T. Kovan 109 

Because of Me Bertha A. Kleinman 123 

Cycle Louise Morris Kelley 131 


Editorial and Business Offices: 40 North Main, Salt Lake City 1, Utah, Phone 4-2511; Sub- 
scriptions 246; Editorial Dept. 245. Subscription Price: $1.50 a year; foreign, $2.00 a year; 
payable in advance. Single copy, 15c. The Magazine is not sent after subscription expires. No 
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Entered as second-class matter February 18, 1914, at the Post Office, Salt Lake City, Utah, under 
the Act of March 3, 1879. Acceptance for mailing at special rate of postage provided for in 
section 1103, Act of October 8, 1917, authorized June 29, 1918. Manuscripts will not be returned 
unless return postage is enclosed. Rejected manuscripts will be retained for six months only. 
The Magazine is not responsible for unsolicited manuscripts. 

"Feast Upon the Words of Christ'-' 

Louise W. Madsen 
Member, General Board of Relief Society 

[Address Delivered at the Annual General Relief Society Conference, 

October i, 1953] 

Wherefore, I said unto you, feast upon the words of Christ; for behold, the words 
of Christ will tell you all things what ye should do (2 Nephi 32:3). 

HOW plain, how simple, yet 
how wonderful are those few 
words, and how great is the 
promise contained therein. How 
satisfying is the security of knowing 
exactly where to find guidance for 
all that we do. ''Let not your heart 
be troubled, neither let it be afraid/' 
for ''the words of Christ will tell 
you all things what ye should do." 

Now, the words of Christ are 
many, and are found in several vol- 
umes of scripture, but if we search 
diligently, always, we will find the 
answer to that which we seek. It 
is there in plainness, but, if per- 
chance, we do not fully compre- 
hend, the Lord "giveth light unto 
the understanding" of those who 
ask him for it. 

Nephi places squarely on our 
shoulders the responsibility of 
knowing what the "words of Christ" 

Wherefore, now after I have spoken 
these words, if ye cannot understand 
them it will be because ye ask not, neith- 
er do ye knock; wherefore, ye are not 
brought into the light, but must perish 
in the dark (2 Nephi 32:4). 

And James says it this way: "If 
any of you lack wisdom, let him ask 
of God, that giveth to all men lib- 
erally, and upbraideth not; and it 
shall be given him" (James 1:5)- 
We, of all people, know that this 
procedure brings results, assuming, 
of course, that we prayerfully and 
worthily ask of God. Nephi, hav- 

Page 76 

ing had the same experience as the 
Prophet Joseph Smith, in asking for 
and receiving information, says: 
"Yea, I know that God will give 
liberally to him that asketh. Yea, 
my God will give me, if I ask not 

Concerning the word of God, one 
of the most beautiful and meaning- 
ful visions ever vouchsafed to man 
was given to Lehi. He stood by a 
tree, the fruit of which he found 
"desirable to make one happy," for, 
as he ate of it, his soul was filled 
with peace and joy unspeakable. 
Near the tree, a great river, muddy 
and filthy, rolled turbulently along. 
The head of the river could be seen 
in the distance, and from it to the 
tree was a straight, narrow path, 
bordered by a rod of iron to which 
one could hold and thus avoid fall- 
ing into the river. Across the riv- 
er was a great concourse of people 
"many of whom were pressing for- 
ward, that they might obtain the 
path which led unto the tree." And 
as they gained the path, great mists 
of darkness arose, insomuch that 
many who had found the path 
were lost and wandered away in 
the darkness. But those who came 
forth and caught hold of the rod of 
iron, and clung to it through the 
mists, and followed it tenaciously, 
were able to reach and partake of 
the fruit of the tree. 

The explanation of the vision 
was given through inspiration. The 


tree shown to the prophet was commission . . . "to him that know- 

the tree of hfe, and its fruit the eth to do good, and doeth it not, 

salvation of the soul. Of the rod to him it is sin" (James 4:17). 

of iron it is written: Our Father in heaven helps us 

That it was the word of God; and extensively when we try to do 

whoso would hearken unto the word of right. 

God, and would hold fast unto it, they a j r .. ^ .1. . .x, v.-ij c 

would never perish; neither could the ^"1 '^ \''' ^^ ^^^^ }^^ children of 

temptations and the fiery darts of the ad- ^^^^ ^^^ • ^^^T'^^'^'^^f' ^^ God 

versary overpower them unto blindness, }^ ^^^^ "°""'^ ^^^"^' ^"\ strengthen 

to lead them away to destruction (I Ne- ^^^"^^ ^"^ fTl^ "1".""' ^^.T^^ ^^^^ 

phi 11: -^4) ^^" accomphsh the thmg which he has 

commanded them (I Nephi 17:3). 

The river of foul waters typified ^-l ,. 
the great gulf separatmg ''the wicked , Obedience, then, may be said to 
from the tree of life, and also from \^ the first law of heaven. It is 
the saints of God." The mists of *^^* obedience that the Lord re- 
darkness were the temptations of 2;^^'^.' ^^ ^'^ "P°" ^,^^^J^, ^l ^"^ 
53|-3j^ blessings are predicated. Obedience 

is a source of power, enabling us to 

T*HE present is an age character- do the will of God, much as is 

ized by great mists of darkness prayer a source of power. In obedi- 

and evil, and we need to be con- ence lies happiness. We remember 

cerned with clinging to the rod of that at one period the Nephites 

iron, and the word of God. We were living in great righteousness 

must hold fast to the rod, for the and obeying the commandments, 

mists of darkness are dense and con- and the historian stated that the 

fusing; and it is easy to let go, and people ''lived after the manner of 

slip and slide and fall. happiness" (2 Nephi 5:27). 

Not only must we feast upon The world needs to be taught 

the words of Christ and keep a firm righteousness, and is best taught 

hand on the rod of iron, but we, by the word and example of those 

as mothers and members of Re- who know the words of Christ and 

lief Society, must be "doers of the do the will of the Father. Surely 

word" (James 1.22). The purpose the more than 140,000 women, 

of the Lord in placing us on this members of Relief Society, living 

earth is to see if we will do all with this in mind, can influence 

things he has commanded us to the lives and actions of many! 

do. When we have done these things. 

It is not enough to read and then we may truly pray with Nephi, 

study about the gospel of Jesus ''O Lord, wilt thou encircle me 

Christ, but we must actually live around in the robe of thy right- 

and do his word and his work, eousness!" (2 Nephi 4:33). 

Obedience to Christ's words must That we may all be so encircled 

often be in the form of action, in the robe of righteouness because 

There are many things that we must we have feasted upon the words 

do for him, for our fellow men, and of Christ and thereby know all 

for ourselves; as there are sins of things what we should do, is my 

omission fully as wrong as sins of prayer. 

tfn m 


Matthew Cowley, or The Man of 

Many Friends 

(August 2, 1897— December ^3? ^953) 

EJder Spencer W. Kimball 
Of the Council of the Twelve 


were coining a descriptive name 
for Elder Matthew Cowley as is 
the custom, he might likely call 
him The Man of Many Friends. 

The Tabernacle full of loving 
folks at his funeral spoke silent but 
eloquent testimony to the love 

Page 78 

which this great apostle drew from 
his many friends who came long dis- 
tances to pay tribute. 

Brother Cowley had a pattern all 
his own. No other was like him. 
With a meeting finished he often 
picked up his hat and coat and 
wandered down the block. He 
stopped at the small cleaning shop, 
the candy counter, at the elevator, 
or paused on the sidewalk to talk to 
people who were not often touched 
by others, and when he left them 
they who had been discouraged 
were smiling, and they who had 
been groping in darkness at midday 
had taken a firmer hand-hold. 

The Lord exhorted his people to 
extend invitations to dinner, not to 
friends, kinsmen, and rich neigh- 
bors who could return the favor, 
but to invite the "poor, the 
maimed, the lame, and the blind," 
and those who were less able to 
recompense. This admonition, our 
brother Matthew took seriously to 
heart. The humor of his stories, 
the twinkle in his eye, the sincere 
interest and concern he manifested, 
all warmed the heart and stirred 
the resolve. The man who had 
lost his way now had firmer grip; 
the estranged one forgave and de- 
served forgiveness; the lonesome 


one now had a friend; and the with the Hawaiians, sat shoe-less on 

foreign born now felt he had a the floor with the Japanese, climbed 

countryman. the ladder to the top of the stone 

The Savior's parable of the ninety house of the Hopi, fraternized with 

and nine was a part of Elder Cow- the Navajo in his hogan, and sat 

ley's philosophy. He found that cross-legged in the thatched roof 

the ratio was not one but many home of the Maori. In the islands 

to a hundred, and every day his the people near worship him. They 

footsteps led him to the stumbling met the plane or boat with smiling 

one whose walk became stable by faces, and they sang their farewell 

the lift given. He gave vision; he songs with tearful hearts as he left 

stiffened backbones and strength- their shores. Peace had settled 

ened determinations. down upon them and they would 

Elder Cowley was eloquent, live closer to their Maker now that 

Someone had urged him years ago their loved leader had stirred their 

to perfect his speech, and with de- thoughts and warmed their souls 

termined effort, he had mastered a again. 

vocabulary of rich and expressive Tumauki Cowley, the Maoris 

yet unostentatious words. His voice called him. This meant, great 

was strong and penetrating, his die- leader, big chief, or president. This 

tion impressive, and people listened was his title favored by him, and 

and absorbed his messages. He he glowed when they referred to 

commended righteousness and at- him thusly, and as they saw the 

tacked abuses. blind seeing, the lame walking, and 

The missionaries who came under the sick recovered through the 

his leadership in New Zealand re- power of the Lord under his 

turned home inspired and set. Al- hand of faith, they regarded their 

most without exception they have Tumauki as the Polynesian prophet, 

remained true to the faith and con- To them he spoke ''as one having 

tinned active in the Church. If a authority." 

member of this close-knit society The apostle had real prestige in 
met sorrow, misfortune, or tragedy New Zealand not only among the 
the entire group was at his side Church members but among the 
with their former president in the natives generally and the Euro- 
center. There were groceries as peans, the politicians, and even the 
well as prayers. clerics of other faiths. With sec- 
tarian ministers and priests and 
ROTHER COWLEY loved and others, he was invited to participate 
was loved by the Lehites in in a national meeting to consider 
both the Americas and on all the the welfare of the native people, 
islands. He was their champion. Elder Cowley was called upon to 
They felt in a very real sense that speak first in the initial meeting, 
he accepted them as friend and and he was requested to speak in 
brother. He spoke their language, the Maori language as the leaders 
ate their food, sang their songs, wished to show how perfectly a 
and dreamed their dreams. He non-native could master the Ian- 
walked lei-covered in flower gardens guage when he was sufficiently in- 



terested in them. He spoke flu- dieted: 'Tumauki Cowley will be 

ently and eloquently in Maori, then the next apostle." At the next 

in English. Then, on the last day general conference, October 1945, 

of the conference, he was the only Matthew Cowley was called to the 

speaker. His clear and sensible apostleship. 

plan of vvelfare and individual initia- ^hen I think of Matt (as we af- 

tive for his adopted people brought fectionately called him) I thing of 
hearty approval and he was asked ' j,^^ ^^^j Samaritan at rescue work 

by Parhament officials to use their ^„ t,,^ ^^^^ ^^ j^^i^j^^ j remember 

tacilities and dratt a program m 1.1 ^ 1,4. • • 1,0. 

,. .,1 1 ■ .^ wg ci 11 |.j^^ woman caught m sm subiect 

line with his suggestions. In a ^^ ^^^^^ concerning whom the 

couple of days he had drawn up Redeemer said, "Let him who is 

a document which Parhament ^jj^out sin cast the first stone"; 

adopted and made law. j ^^^-^-^^ ^^^ jj^^j^ ^^^-^^ ^,^,, 

He urged the people to retain j^^n being blessed in the arms of 

their language and all that was good t],^ faster; and I think of the vi- 

of their traditions arts, crafts, cus- ^-^^ ^^ p^te^ extending the gospel 

toms, and to perpetuate their wood ^^ g,, j^j ^f the earth, 
carvmg and weavmg for future 

generations. Though I had never met Brother 

The death of their friend and Cowley when he was made a mem- 
advocate President Rufus K. Hardy t)er of our council, I needed only 
brought sorrow to the islanders who ^"^ ^^ip ^^ Hawaii with him to 
said in their loneliness that they develop a deep admiration for his 
were without 'a friend in court," great but simple faith and a sin- 
when Rahiri Harris, a prominent cere affection which I am sure will 
Maori, stopped them short and pre- last through eternities. 

S/n oft 


Anna H. Michie 

Awake, oh, my soul, awake! 

Cast off the lowly sod; 

Knowest thou not that thou art conic 

From a wise and gracious God? 

Attune, oh, my soul, attune! 

Receive of eternal light. 

Walk thou with wisdom, faith, and truth 

Through the darkness of earthly night. 

Arise, oh, my soul, arise! 

Cast off the shackles of earth. 

Dwell thou in the infinite love 

Of thy God who gave thy spirit birth. 

Second LPrize Stor^ 

.A.nnuai [Relief Society Short Storif Contest 

4 4 

Beside the Still Waters" 

Marv Ek Knowles 


NATHANIAL Wellman wak- 
ened slowly that morning, 
and for a short, wonderful 
time he thought he was home in 
the big bed in the east bedroom. 
Any moment now, Sultan would 
crow that the day had begun, and 
the sun would spread a coat of pale 
gold on the window sill. 

He lay there, eyes closed, and he 
smelled the lusty spring of newly 
plowed fields, the smells of horses 
and hay and the barnyard. He 
thought, got to get up now. Have 
to plow today. He opened his 
eyes then. He saw the five white 

iron beds in the ward, the thin 
old men who occupied them, and 
disappointment hit him like a blow. 

His farm was gone. Ruby Paul, 
Amy's husband, had stolen it from 
him. He was in a six-bed ward in 
a charity home for aged men. He, 
Nathanial Wellman, who had 
owned the finest farm in the state, 
who had always paid his debts and 
been a respected figure in the com- 

If only he could use his hands 
he'd be out of here and making 
his own way! Eighty wasn't old 
for a Wellman! Nathanial held 
his hands up and looked at them. 
They were large hands, but the 
fingers were twisted out of shape 
\^ith rheumatism. He tried to rub 
them together, hoping to get the 
blood circulating, but after a few 
desperate attempts he let them 
drop onto the coverlet. 

He lay there thinking of Ruby 
Paul and hating him. He thought 
angrily, Couldn't you see what 
Ruby was like inside. Amy? And 
then anger towards his daughter 
drained out of him. Poor fittle 
Amy! So trusting that she couldn't 
believe anyone she loved could be 
dishonest, and she had been blind- 
ly in love with Ruby. 

Nathanial took a letter from the 
drawer of his bedside table. He sat 
there holding it in his big, twisted 

Page 81 


hands, but he didn't read it. He tell your gratitude to God/' That 
knew what it said. ''Forgive me, was what John Lincoln who was 
Father ... I didn't realize . . . ." past ninety and had the room down- 
Yes, he had forgiven long ago, stairs was always telHng him. "Be 
but not soon enough, he thought grateful for a roof over your head 
with regret. For a time he had re- and food and clean clothes and 
turned all her letters unopened, shoes on your feet. Be grateful for 
This letter with an Illinois address a bed at the end of the ward with 
had come six years later. By then a window you can open or close as 
he was no longer angry, he only you please. 

wanted to see her, to learn how Nathanial bowed his head. He 

Ruby was treating her, and he had prayed silently, "Oh, God, I am 

eagerly opened the letter. grateful this day for my many bless- 

It was a short, pitiful little let- ^"|^ * i* ' i* i ^ ^ • j tt 

ter, and he could tell she was not He looked out he window. He 

well, not happy. He had answered ^^^ ^he brick wall of the laundry 

T 4. 1 i 4- t-u^ ^^^-^-^^ ^.^A and the stcaiTi comiug out the vcut. 
immediately, but the letter had & . , 

been returned unopened with Fhere was nothing of spring here, 

deceased written across the en- I* '^^d come to him through the 

1 open window trom twenty miles 
velope. ^ -^ 

^ away. 

If only he hadn't put the deed ^j^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^ ^^H ^^^^^ 

to the farm in her name that time ^^.|| ^^-^^ ^^^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^^ 

when he thought he was dying of ^^^^^j^ ^^^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ |.^^^ 

pneumonia! If only he hadn t tak- ^-^ driveway. By force of will he 

en that trip east and left Amy home ^^.^^ ^^ j-^^ ^-^ --^^ ^^ ^^^1^ 

attending college. When he came ^^^^^ ^^^ ^^^ -^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^^ 

back Amy had eloped with Ruby, b.^akfast. There was a patch of 

and the farm was sold! No doubt ^^^^ -^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^^ 

Ruby had told her, We 11 sell the ^^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^ ^.^^ ^-^ ^^^ 

farm and put the money in an ^^^^^ ^^ ^^^j^ m^imge the hose if 

equity for your father, so when he s ^^j^^eone would turn on the tap. 
old he won't have to work! There pj^ .^^^ ^^^ j^.^ trousers. He 

had been nothmg he could do. Her ^^^^^^ ^ ^^^^j^ jj^ ^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^ 

signature was legal and binding! knowing what would follow. It 

came. "The same kettle of soup!" 
TIE replaced the letter in a Nathanial turned his head. Ed- 
drawer. He believed there had die Stringer was watching from the 
been a child. Ruby's child! he bed across the room. His black 
thought. No kin of mine! Yes, eyes were alive with malice and 
he forgave, but oh, if he could mischief, his curly hair still blue 
have only one more spring on the black, but there was evil in his 
farm, even one more day to spend lined face and nothing in the thin, 
in the sunshine! emaciated body to suggest the hand- 
His spirits drooped. Why wish some, dashing man whose boast 
for the impossible. "Count your had been that he could dance and 
blessings, Nathanial. Every day drink all night and never show it. 



''Saint and sinner both in the same 
pot of stew!'' Eddie laughed. 

Nathanial thought wryly that 
here was the supreme irony of life. 
That of all the people he had 
known in his life, Eddie Stringer 
should be the one with whom he 
had to spend his last days! He hur- 
ried into his shirt, his gnarled hands 
more clumsy than ever in his haste, 
anxious to be away from Eddie and 
the things he would say. 

''Remember when we were kids, 
Nat!" Eddie laughed. " 'You'd bet- 
ter straighten out, Eddie,' you said. 
'Or you'll end up in jail!' You, 
working like a horse in the fields!" 
Eddie sat up. "Listen, all of 
you . . . ." 

"Ah, shut up!" Cries came from 
the other occupants of the ward. 

But Eddie paid no attention. 
"Nathanial lived the way the Good 
Book said he should, and we're 
both in the same kettle of soup 

Nathanial walked out of the 
ward, his shoelaces dangling. But 
he did not get out in time. The 
bitterness was in his heart. He 
stepped into the linen closet in the 
hall. He leaned his head against a 
shelf of towels that smelled of 
strong lye and soap. 

"Why?" he asked himself. "Why 
have I come to this end along with 
Eddie? He never did an honest 
day's work in his life. He ruined 
the lives of all he touched. I was 
not perfect, but oh, I did try to live 
right and yet now .... It isn't 

It was all he could do not to cry. 
But he held back the tears. I shall 
try to go to the end with dignity, 
he thought. 

Who was he to question the 

Lord? He would go out and 
he would forget Eddie. But first 
there were his shoelaces to be tied. 
Tom Ford in the next bed always 
tied them, but Nathanial would 
not go back into the ward. 

He saw the new nurse. Miss 
Bandy, coming down the hallway 
carrying a washbasin. She was tall 
and thin and she looked unhappy. 
He stood there waiting patiently. 
She said, "You are up and around 

"I thought I would water the 
lawn. But my shoes . . . ." 

CHE looked down. "Here, let me 
lace and tie them for you." She 
laced his shoes, and he looked at 
the back of her neck. A few ten- 
drils of hair had escaped from the 
hard, tight knot, giving her neck a 
young look. Miss Bandy was new 
here, and Nathanial had not had a 
chance to get acquainted with her, 
but he had met her type before. 
Lonesome women who had given 
up hope of love and romance. 

Miss Bandy straightened. 
"There!" Her cheeks were flushed, 
and she was smihng. 

He said, "Thank you. You have 
a very pretty mouth. Miss Bandy. 
And when you smile like that your 
whole face lights up." 

"Why, thank you, Mr. Well- 
man." She flushed with pleasure. 
Nathanial knew, you make a wom- 
an feel beautiful and she becomes 
beautiful. She picked up the wash- 
basin and walked away, and there 
was a spring in her step now. 

Nathanial went into the wash- 
room. His daily toilet took a long 
time. Sometimes he was tempted 
to forget it, and then hc would re- 


member that his wife, Lucy, had ried back into the home and down 

always praised him for his neatness, the hall to Mrs. Handmacher's of- 

Once he had done everything fice. But she was very busy, going 

quickly, and it had not been easy through papers, answering the tele- 

to learn patience. But now he slow- phone, telephoning the doctor. He 

ly and painfully washed his face knew then he had been selfish, 

and combed his thick white hair. There were those in the home who 

The part was very crooked, but it were ill, and needed more than a 

was the best he could manage. He drive in the country, 
brushed his teeth. He still had all 

his own teeth without decay in OE turned and walked slowly 

them and he could enjoy his food. down the lower hall. ''Nathan- 

''Oh, God, for my blessings I am ial!" He heard his name spoken 

grateful . . . ." in a deep, gentle voice. ''Good 

He looked at his face then. What morning, Nathanial." 

did it matter that people told him He realized then he was opposite 

he had a good, kind face. Eddie the door to John Lincoln's room, 

Stringer had an evil face, and yet but he did not answer the greeting. 

both of them had come to the He stood there and looked at John, 

same end. The old man was sitting in a chair, 

Nathanial walked slowly down facing the window, his profile 

the stairs to the first floor, holding against the light like the head of 

onto the banister. A moment he an old coin Nathanial had once 

hesitated in the archway of the owned. It was a noble head, a 

parlor. He had never had a visitor, noble face, the sightless eyes seem- 

He told himself he didn't care, but ing to see into eternity, 

deep, deep down inside he kept Every day Nathanial read to John 

hoping. Someday the matron, from the Bible. John said, ''When 

Mrs. Handmacher, would say, "Mr. you read to me, Nathanial, I can 

Wellman, there is a visitor in the feel the still waters and see the 

parlor for you." Good Shepherd." 

He turned and walked down the But today Nathanial didn't feel 
long hall to the front door. Who like reading about still waters and 
would ever visit him? Amy had good shepherds. He turned and 
been the last of his family. He walked quietly away. It was break- 
went outside and walked towards fast time then, but he could not 
the hose and the patch of lawn, and choke down the food. He got up 
knew at once it was a mistake, com- and went into the hall and slowly 
ing outdoors. Because again spring walked up the stairs. He knew, 
came to him, a lusty spring from then, he could not stand another 
miles away, and his heart yearned day in the home, 
after the country, and it was not He would go to bed, turn his 
enough— a small patch of lawn. face to the wall and die. He reached 

Maybe someone could drive him the second floor, and the dbor to 

out in the country. For only an his ward and stopped. He could 

hour! He had to go! He was not face Eddie again. He thought 

filled with excitement, and he hur- of the storage closet at the end of 



the hall. It was quiet and dark, 
and there was in it an old rocking 
chair with a broken arm. 

He closed the door and sat in 
the chair. He closed his eyes and 
gave a great sigh, and after awhile 
he sank into oblivion. When he 
awakened he heard the rattle of 
dishes on trays and knew it was 
lunch time. 

He had not died then, he 
thought with wry amusement. And 
who are you, Nathanial Wellman, 
to say when you shall die? He 
stood up. And so God willed that 
he should live awhile longer, then 
he would try and go to the end 
with dignity and purpose. He would 
try to make the home his place 
''beside the still v/aters." 

He would read to John every day. 
He would tell Miss Bandy how 
pretty she was. He would tell her 
every day, and finally she would be- 
lieve him, and she would be beau- 
tiful and some man would see it 
and marry her. 

He washed his face, and the cold 
water made his skin tingle. He 
ate his lunch with appetite and 
then he went to John's room. 
"Hello, John," he said. 

''Are you all right, Nathanial?" 
John sounded anxious. 

'I'm all right now, John." Na- 
thanial could not say why, but he 
felt happy, as if he had a great deal 
to look forward to. He picked up 
the big Bible with its worn leather 
cover and its large type. "And what 
shall it be today, John?" 

John smiled, 'The Sermon on 
the Mount, please, Nathanial. Be- 
gin with, 'And seeing the multi- 
tude, he went up into a moun- 
tain ....'" John folded his hands 
and waited. 

So Nathanial read, and he had 
reached, "Rejoice, and be exceed- 
ing glad for great is your reward in 
heaven," when Miss Bandy ap- 
peared in the doorway. "A visitor 
for you, Mr. Wellman." 

"For me?" Nathanial asked. And 
after a pause. "Who?" 

She shook her head and smiled, 
and he saw that she was wearing 
lipstick and had loosened her hair 
a bit and already she looked hap- 
pier. "I don't know. Mrs. Hand- 
macher just said to find you and 
tell you there is a visitor in the 

Nathanial closed the Bible and 
put it down. John held out his 
hand, and Nathanial took it, felt 
the warm pressure of friendship. 
Then, wondering, he went to the 

TUST inside the archway he 
^ stopped. His young brother, 
Charles, was standing there, smil- 
ing at him. Charles as he had been 
at twenty. But Charles had been 
thrown from a horse and killed 
when he was a young man! 

He said a bit shortly because he 
felt shaken, "I am Nathanial Well- 
man. You wanted to see me? Who 
are you?" 

"I am Michael Paul, Sir." 

Amy's son! With nothing of 
Ruby Paul about him. But all Well- 
man! He sank down weakly on a 
chair. The boy pulled up a chair 
and sat opposite him, and Nathan- 
ial saw that the boy sat as he sat, 
on the edge of the chair, with feet 
braced wide apart as if to get up 
quickly and go about his business. 

He saw the hands resting on the 
knees, as his hands were resting, 
and they were broad, strong, power- 



ful hands. Nathanial asked, "Where 
did you come from, lad?" 

''Chicago, Grandfather. You 
don't mind if I call you that?" he 
asked anxiously. 

Grandfather . . . the first shock 
had passed now and realization was 
deepening. He thought, this boy 
is my own flesh and blood. And 
all at once the room seemed filled 
with light and hope and the fresh 
clean smell of youth. He wanted 
to reach out and touch the firm, 
tanned flesh, feel the hardness and 
reality of him. "Yd like you to 
call me Grandfather," he said sin- 

''I had a hard time finding you, 
Grandfather. I was afraid you 
might be dead." 

Nathanial had meant it to be 
that way. He had worked as long 
as he could, and then when his 
hands became crippled he had lived 
on his savings. When that was gone 
he had applied for help, but with 
the plea that none of his old friends 
know about it. 

'This was my last hope," Mike 
was saying, "and I had to find you, 

But not for this brief visit, Na- 
thanial wanted to cry. It would 
have been better if you had never 
come. He asked almost fearfully, 
"And so now you have found me?" 

"There are only you and me left 
of all the family. Grandfather." 

Hope flickered. That didn't 
sound as if he meant to go striding 
out of Nathanial's life. He wanted 
to say, "It is good not to be alone 
anymore, Michael." But he held 
back the words. Youth didn't want 
to feel obligated and trapped. If 
only the boy would just come and 
see him once in awhile! 


^''^' ^'AH 84/07 

He asked, "Where is your fa- 
ther, Michael?" 

"He died in January. I . . ." 
Mike hesitated and then went on, 
bitterness in his young voice. "I'm 
trying not to hate him. After all 
he's dead, but ... he deserted me 
a month after mother died. He 
left me with neighbors and never 
came back." 

Very characteristic of him, Na- 
thanial thought angrily. "What did 
vou do then?" 

"I was put in a home, and I 
lived there until I was eighteen. 
Then I joined the Navy. I've only 
just gotten out of service, and you 
know something. Grandfather?" he 

"No, lad," Nathanial said gently, 

"Mother used to talk about you 
a lot. She told me how Dad had 
cheated you. I was only six when 
she died, but I never forgot. And 
all the time I was in the home and 
then in the service I thought, I have 
a grandfather somewhere and some- 
day I'll find him and I'll buy a 
farm. But I couldn't remember the 
name of the town where you lived, 
only the state." He grinned happily. 
"But now I have found you! Will 
you help me pick out a farm and 
live with me? I need you. Say 
you'll come!" 

^/'T need you ... say you'll come." 
. . . Nathanial was afraid he was 
going to cry like a weak old man 
before his grandson. It was a mo- 
ment before he had control of 
himself enough to speak, and then 
he held up his crippled hands. 
"My hands, see! I'd be no good 
to you on a farm." 



'*It isn't your hands I want, 
Grandfather. Fm strong enough 
for the both of us. It's your ex- 
perience and advice I want." 

Nathanial could not beheve it 
yet. He had learned not to get 
his hopes too high. ''A good farm 
takes money. There's no such 
thing as cheap land." 

''Oh, I've saved my money, and 
when Dad died his estate went to 
me. I'll use the money from that." 

All at once Nathanial wanted to 
stand and shout, ''Hear that, Ed- 
die Stringer! Ruby took my farm, 
and now he gives it back to me!" 
He wanted to take this beautiful 
boy through the wards and show 
him off, saying, "Look at the size 
of him, the width of those should- 
ers, the bigness of his hands. See 
how tall and fine he is! My grand- 
son, Eddie Stringer, come all the 
way from Chicago to find his old 
grandfather! And Fm going to 
live with him, I'll spend my last 
days on the land!" 

Then he was ashamed of him- 
self. He thought, my cup run- 
neth over! I could not be so mean 
and small as to flaunt my sudden 
good fortune in the faces of those 

who have nothing. Not even to 
Eddie could he do that. 

"There's enough money for a big 
down payment," Mike was saying. 
"Of course we'd have a struggle at 
first. Maybe you wouldn't . . . ." 

"A man can only eat one meal 
at a time, Mike," Nathanial said 
eagerly, "and wear one suit of 

"Then you will come, Grand- 
father? I've spoken to the matron. 
I'll sign the necessary papers." 

Nathanial stood up, holding his 
shoulders back. He must not trem- 
ble now. He said evenly, "I will 
be happy to go with you. We will 
find the finest farm in the State. 
I'll pack my things now." He knew 
he was going to cry then. That he 
could no longer hold back the 
tears. He had to turn and go quick- 
ly out of the parlor. 

He held the tears back until he 
reached the foot of the stairs. He 
let them come then, let them roll 
unchecked down his cheeks. That 
was permitted, surely, without loss 
of dignity, tears of happiness. Then 
he brushed them away and hurried 
up the stairs, his heart singing, "Oh, 
kind God, I am grateful this day." 

Mary EI: Knowles, Ogden, Utah, has written many excellent stories for The Relief 
Society Magazine. Her story "The Gold Watch," was awarded third prize in the Re- 
hef Society Short Story Contest in 1943, and her story "Spring Festival" received the 
first prize in 1946. 

Mary was born in Ely, Nevada, lived for many years in Salt Lake City, and for 
a short time in Reno, Nevada. Her family and her writing are her chief interests. 
"I have three children," she tells us, "a wonderful husband, and a very interesting 
mechanical engineer father, Alma Ek, who hves in Merced, Cahfornia. I am hterature 
teacher for the Ogden Twenty-Third Ward Rehef Society. Writing is my hobby, my 
husband and children my profession. I am a member of the Blue Quill, Ogden Writ- 
ers Club, and the League of Utah Writers, and I would suggest to any ambitious 
young writer that she have a family, the larger the better, because a family, especially 
the teen-agers, are a constant source of story material." 

In addition to the Church magazines, the work of Mrs, Knowles has appeared in 
Woman's Day, Today's Woman, The American Magazine, Extension, and many other 

Social Activities in Relief Society 

Blanche B. Stoddard 
Member, General Board of Relief Society 

[Address Delivered at the Annual General Relief Society Conference, 

September 30, 1953] 

IT was my privilege this summer 
to visit in the mission field and 
attend Relief Society meetings 
and socials there. I asked one sis- 
ter who had recently been baptized 
what had caused her to come into 
the Church. She said she had 
moved into the community a total 
stranger. One day her neighbor 
invited her to go to a Relief Society 
work meeting. She met so many 
splendid women, learned so much, 
and had such a good time, she asked 
to go again to some of the other 
meetings. She became a Relief So- 
ciety member, then a member of 
the Church. Her mother-in-law, 
who is not a member, said to her, 
''I don't see why you didn't join 
the group to which I belong." The 
daughter answered, 'They did not 
invite me." I hope you and I are 
not passing up some good oppor- 
tunities with our neighbors because 
we do not give that little invita- 

The past months, as we have held 
conventions in your stakes, we have 
emphasized compassionate service, 
visiting teaching, and the education- 
al part of the Relief Society pro- 
gram. For a few moments now, I 
should like to speak of another very 
important part, an integral part of 
the program— the social activities. 
You and I can sit together in 
regular Relief Society meetings 
week after week and not know each 
other. But let us sit side by side 
making a quilt, enjoying a social af- 

Page 88 

ternoon, or serving together on the 
luncheon committee at work meet- 
ing, and it isn't long until we know 
first names, how many children 
each of us has, what business our 
husbands are in, and all the things 
that make us know each other bet- 
ter. And isn't it true, as a rule, 
that the better we know each other 
the better we love each other? I 
heard a Relief Society president, as 
she bore her testimony, say, 'There 
are only two kinds of people in my 
ward, those I love and those I do 
not know." 

Relief Society activities provide 
such an opportunity to make last- 
ing friendships. Recently, after a 
visiting teachers convention which 
I attended, two sisters came up 
holding hands. One said, ''We 
have been visiting teaching com- 
panions for a year and we just love 
each other." 

I asked, "If it had not been for 
Relief Society, would you ever have 

They would not, in all probabil- 
ity. We have a unique social oppor- 
tunity. We play, sing, work, and 
pray together, welding ties of last- 
ing friendships based on deep un- 
derstanding of each other. I am 
sure you can say with me, that some 
of your most precious friendships 
began in Relief Society. 

Recognizing that friendly social 
relationships are important to an 
abundant life. Relief Society has in- 
cluded delightful social occasions 



as a part of its program. Through 
its social activities, members have 
been brought into closer relation- 
ship and sisterly love has been 
fostered. The social spirit has par- 
ticularly characterized the work 
meeting. It is recommended that 
this day be made a happy social 
day in which it is almost impos- 
sible for formality and stiffness to 
prevail. It is a wonderful time to 
invite strangers and newcomers in 
the ward to Relief Society. Make 
them welcome and give them a 
definite part in the day's program. 

A S my companion and I went vis- 
iting teaching this last week, 
we were in a district of lovely new 
homes where many of the wives 
were young women. Many of them 
were entirely indifferent, and had 
not been to any of the ward func- 
tions. One young mother said she 
would not be able to go to Relief 
Society because she was so busy 
decorating her home, making 
lamps and drapes, planting her 
flowers, and making her budget 
stretch. Her home came first. 

What a splendid opportunity for 
us! We explained in detail our 
wonderful course in homemaking 
and home-management and the so- 
cial activities of the work meeting. 
Immediately, she was eager to come 
on the day that would give her 
these opportunities. Now, if we 
meet her and make her welcome, 
introduce her to other young moth- 
ers, and even ask her to exhibit 
some of the lovely things she has 
made for her own home and let 
her partake of the social spirit of 
the day, I am sure we will have an- 
other enthusiastic member of Re- 
lief Society. 

Many young women have been 
career girls and now find a lot of 
time on their hands. They are go- 
ing to seek social outlets by join- 
ing clubs and other organizations 
which, in our estimation, cannot 
begin to give them the fine associa- 
tion and companionship that Relief 
Society has to offer. I remember 
one such sister. We tried for years 
to get her to come to Relief Society. 
Finally, someone remembered that 
she loved parties, loved to entertain 
and prepare unusual meals and set 
beautiful tables. So we asked her 
to be chairman of the work meet- 
ing luncheon committee for the 
year. She was delighted. She found 
an outlet for her talents. Relief So- 
ciety was benefited, and she became 
a loyal member. 

As I said, work meeting is prob- 
ably the best time for enjoyable so- 
cial activity. On vacation this sum- 
mer I visited a work meeting in one 
of the Idaho wards. There were 
fifty-eight women present. I knew 
only three of them at first, but be- 
fore the day was over I felt I knew 
each one, a Httle of her background 
and her home life. As we quilted 
and chatted I learned many inter- 
esting short cuts to homemaking 
and came home with some choice 
recipes. It was a delightful day. 

Not long ago I visited another 
work meeting. I knew they had 
a quilt to do and I love to 
quilt. We had a pleasant and prof- 
itable morning, but when we went 
in to lunch I was amazed to find 
they were charging seventy-five 
cents for it, Not only amazed, but 
embarrassed, because I had not 
brought my purse with me, not an- 
ticipating any need for it. I was 
also a little annoyed. I was put- 



ting in a good five hours on their 
]:)azaar quilt, having fun Fll admit, 
l:)ut I sort of felt I was entitled to 
my lunch. Don't you think I was? 
Of course they let me charge it on 
promise to pay later, but it rather 
spoiled the day for me. I hope no 
sister in that ward stayed away from 
work meeting that day because she 
could not spare seventy-five cents 
for lunch. 

We feel that sisters who come to 
render service should not be ex- 
pected also to pay for their lunch. 
Permission is given to use Relief 
Society funds for the purpose of 
meeting the expense of simple 
luncheons. We feel that the lunch- 
eons are a delightful part of the 
day and provide the sisters with 
opportunity to display talents in 

women to project the program of 
Relief Society. 

The seventeenth of March, our 
birthday, is another splendid oppor- 
tunity to show our gratitude and 
appreciation for this great organ- 
ization. Many sisters may par- 
ticipate in the program on that day, 
which should be such as to promote 
sociability and a feeling of sister- 

ANOTHER wonderful source of 
social activity is through our 
Singing Mothers organizations. 
What if all the mothers in the 
world were singing mothers! 
Wouldn't this be a different old 
world? I am sure nowhere else 
could we go to see and hear what 
we will tomorrow, as we listen to 

table decorations and low-cost, but ^^'^^^ Madsen's Singing Mothers 

nutritious menus. 

We hope that Relief Society 
sisters will never have to pay to go to 
the regular meetings other than the 

chorus. There will be daughters, 
mothers, grandmothers, and great- 
grandmothers singing together, 
bearing testimony together in 
music. There will be no age nor 

mitial dues of fifty cents. I heard social barriers in this group. We 
of an openmg social for which each hope every ward will have a Sing- 
sister was charged one dollar at the jng Mothers chorus comprised of 
door, fifty cents to go as her dues, every sister who desires to sing, 
and fifty cents to swell the funds Sister Madsen says that if you have 
of Relief Society. The entire pur- two women who can sing a duet 
pose of the day was defeated, in my together, it is a nucleus for a Sing- 
estimation. The opening social is ^ig Mothers chorus. As we go 

about the Church we are thrilled 
with your singing groups. What 
good times they have, how they 
learn to love each other! 

We feel, sisters, that you stake of- 
ficers have a great responsibility in 
directing and maintaining the high 

one of great importance. There 
are wonderful opportunities for this 
occasion. Every woman in the 
ward, whether she belongs to Relief 
Society or not, should receive a 
special invitation. She should meet 
the officers and the other members 
and should learn on that day what standards of the social activities 

Relief Society has to offer her and 
the part she has to play in its suc- 
cess. It should be a day of dignity 
and beauty, an outlet for talented 


Relief Society. See that they are 
proper and dignified and in keep- 
ing with the policies and aims of 
the organization. Inspiration has 



guided the destiny of Relief Society, 
and intrinsic worth has character- 
ized its activities. It was organized 
by a Prophet of God after the pat- 
tern of the Priesthood. When an 
organization has such a birth, such 
a history as ours, we must be care- 
ful to maintain its activities on a 
high plane. I once heard Sister 
Layton say that when a woman 
reaches a certain age, probably the 
greatest possession left to her is her 
dignity. After all, Relief Society 
is over a hundred years old, let us 
help her to stay dignified. 

COMETIMES, because of lack of 
experience in Relief Society, a 
lack of understanding and apprecia- 
tion, or because of a desire to catch 
interest by introducing something 
new and different, activities are con- 
ducted which are not in harmony 
with Relief Society. Extreme and 
offensive costumes are not becom- 
ing to women. When programs re- 
quire men, it is more appropriate 
to use men than to have women 
impersonate them. It is unbecom- 
ing in Relief Society gatherings to 
burlesque things for which we 
should have respect and reverence. 
Let us remember we are the moth- 
ers of Israel and representatives of 
the greatest woman's organization 
in the world. 

Relief Society programs and en- 
tertainment need not be somber 

and formal. Under certain cir- 
cumstances, they may be light and 
highly entertaining. However, they 
should be more than time-wasters, 
which contribute nothing to the ad- 
vancement of Relief Society wom- 
en. All activities should be worthv 
of the time of Latter-day Saint 
women and reflect the ideals and 
standards of our organization. Of 
course we want to have fun, we 
want to laugh and have a good 
time. In this time of stress and 
sorrow and foreboding, we welcome 
fun. But we want to go home from 
every Relief Society function with 
something so good that we will be 
lifted up, and with something so 
fine it will carry over into our 
homes. Our sisters, especially many 
of our older sisters, have a great 
need for social life under the super- 
vision of Relief Society. 

We have such good Relief So- 
cieties all over the Church, and 
much good is being done with the 
sisters who attend. But let us lend 
every effort this coming year in 
reaching out after the inactive ones, 
the indifferent, those with heavy 
hearts and slipping testimonies. 
The Prophet's mother said we 
must cherish one another. We are 
indeed our sister's keeper. Probably 
there is no better way first to reach 
her than through our social acti\'i- 
ties in Relief Societv. 

cKeart cJones 

Ida Isaacson 

There is a time when speech is cleft; 
When breath is silent, sound bereft — 
When only heart tones climb into the mind 
And tell all that can be told, or left behind. 
Such moments as these bare themselves to love 
And no one hears but two — and God above. 

Valentine for Susan 

Doiothy Oakley Rea 

4 4 /^ RANDMA, do you think served through thin hps, as she bit 

I -IT Fm pretty?" the thread from the dress she was 

^-^ Susan Gray didn't turn hemming, 

to look at her grandmother as she She tried to sound unconcerned, 

asked the question. She continued but she had hurried with the new 

to stare into the mirror at the wide velvet in case Fred should ask Su- 

mouth, the smooth, high forehead, san for the prom. A heart-shaped 

and the deep-set, blue eyes that corsage of violets and roses would 

stared back at her. have been so pretty at the shoulder. 

''Of course I think you're pretty." Cordelia Gray had wanted the. 

Grandma Cordelia Gray squinted best of everything for her grand- 

to thread her needle. ''All grand- daughter. It wasn't exactly selfish 

mothers think their granddaughters to want it that way, she felt. It was 

are pretty. Susan, do you think you more like wanting to make up for 

are pretty?" the ways in which Susan had been 

"No," Susan said flatly, and forced to take short measure, 

plopped into the big chair in front As when Susan's mother had 

of the old fireplace. She looked died after Steve, Susan's father, had 

into the fire, remembering that in spent all he could earn or borrow 

her seventeen years she had lighted trying to fight the ravages of her 

many pine wood fires and loved leukemia. 

each one a little more than the Steve had procured a good engi- 

last. neering job in South America after 

"It's not that I mind not being his wife had died. He couldn't 

as pretty as Marie Woods. She is take the baby daughter with him, 

put together perfect as a Dresden so he had left her with his mother, 

doll. It's the Valentine I really who had felt so inadequate when 

care about. Grandma." she had looked at the tiny fluff of 

"The Valentine? I thought you a girl, delicate as a pink shell, 

put Valentine notions away with Cordelia hadn't had a daughter, 

your last doll a few years ago." She was widowed when Steve, her 

"I don't mean those silly Valen- only son, was ten years old. She 

tines we liked in grade school. I had sold the farm, keeping only the 

mean like those heart-shaped cor- family garden and the house that 

sages of roses and violets at the her husband had built on the lower 

corner florists. I saw Fred Miller acre. 

go in there, and while I was sort of They had planned for a big fam- 

standing by the door, I heard him ily. The house had three bedrooms 

order one for Marie." huddled under the sloping roof up- 

"I guess that means he will be stairs, and there was the big bed- 
taking Marie to the Valentine room next to the parlor, 
prom," Grandma Cordelia • ob- Cordelia had taught in the vil- 

Page 92 



lage schoolhouse in those years 
when she had saved enough to 
send Steve to engineering school. 
She had baked bread, cakes, and 
pies for ten famihes in Newfield, 
and with Dan's insurance, she and 
Steve had been able to take a prop- 
er place in their community. They 
had always been offering the big 
house for fireside meetings or 

CTEVE'S boyhood had been hap- 
py here, and when he went away 
to college, he had had as much 
money as most young men, and just 
as many of the belongings that col- 
lege youths considered important 
in those depression years of the 

It was quite different now that 
Susan was growing up. There 
weren't any savings, and Grandma 
was past the time of teaching in 
the school, which by now was a 
sprawling structure on the avenue, 
complete with modern teachers, 
perfect lighting, and adjustable 

Students at the high school drove 
their own cars— some even had con- 
vertibles, Susan said. There were 
television sets in most homes, as 
well as the deep-freeze, which sure- 
ly would have been a boon in the 
days when Cordelia had done cook- 
ing for other families. 

Cordelia and Susan didn't own 
a car, a television set, or a deep- 
freeze. Steve was able to send 
plenty to live on, but not enough 
for extras. 

Even so, the Gray house had 
been a joyous place. Susan col- 
lected friends hke a flower collects 
bees. They had invaded the house 
from bread-and-jelly kindergarten 

days, right up to now, when they 
gathered around the old dining- 
room table with their lessons or 
popped pop corn and listened to 
name bands on the radio. 

Susan had her share of boy 
friends, but she could see only 
Fred Miller. Cordelia wasn't sure 
just what Susan saw in the boy. 
She thought he talked in a strange 

Often when he and Susan were 
listening to the radio, he would say, 
''Dig that crazy tune." 

What was that supposed to 
mean? Cordelia wondered. 

His hair was another thing that 
was puzzling. A year ago he had 
worn it long behind with a wave 
at each temple. Now, when he 
came over in the evening, Cordelia 
noticed it was barely an inch long 
and stood up on his head like a 

'That's a butch haircut. Grand- 
ma. All the boys have them," 
Susan explained. "It's a fad like 
when I wore my hair in a pony 

Cordelia put the last stitch in 
the facing at the neckline of the 
new velvet dress. 

"You needn't have hurried with 
the dress. Grandma. I won't be 
going to the Valentine prom. It's 
tomorrow night, you know, and I 
haven't been asked." There was 
the slightest quiver in the young 
voice that tried to sound noncha- 

"Harry Daniels would take you 
if you would even look his way," 
Grandma ventured. 

"It isn't honest to be nice to a 
boy just to get a date when you 
don't especially enjoy his com- 
pany. You said that. Grandma." 



Cordelia smiled. She had tried 
to teach this lovely granddaughter 
some of the social graces. Now she 
found herself forgetting them in 
her anxiety for Susan's happiness. 

npHE next day was Saturday and 
Valentine's. If Susan was griev- 
ing about the prom, she gave no 
sign. She arose early, put on a 
plain blouse and flowered skirt, and 
gave the house a real cleaning. She 
put a fresh bowl of apples on the 
dining-room table and pine nuts 
in the brass bowl on the mantle. 

In the early afternoon she light- 
ed a fire and sagged into the big 
chair with a magazine, while Cor- 
delia got ready and went market- 

There was a high blue sky on the 
afternoon of St. Valentine's Day. 
Melting snows clung to the shady 
places, but the sidewalks were dry. 
Cordelia brushed away some leaves 
as she passed the garden fence. The 
violets were coming up, she no- 

Seeing the violets push up their 
green leaves made her think again 
of the corsage Susan had men- 

''It seems to me that I love Su- 
san as much as anyone loves her. 
Why shouldn't I send her a Valen- 
tine?" Cordelia was thinking. 

She walked a little faster with a 
little more color in her cheeks. 

There was the corsage in the 
florist's window— heart-shaped, with 
violets and roses. 

''Will you deliver one of those 
to Susan at my house?" she asked 
the florist. 

"Sure will, Mrs. Gray. We've 
delivered lots of them to the high 
school girls today." 

Cordeha paid for the flowers and 
hurried out onto the street. She 
shouldn't have bought the flowers, 
she thought. Now the florist will 
be wondering why some young man 
didn't order flowers for Susan. 

The girl was gone when Cor- 
delia returned home. A note in 
her young scrawl was on the kitch- 
en table. "Grandma, I've gone bike 
riding with Fred." 

"The nerve of him," Cordelia 
muttered. "Susan is all right to 
take bicycle riding in the afternoon, 
but he takes another girl to the 

Cordelia was glad the florist came 
with the flowers before Susan came 
home. It would be a shame to 
have Susan answer the door think- 
ing the flowers might be from some- 
one else. 

TT was almost dusk. Cordelia laid 
out the pretty new velvet across 
the big chair. At the shoulder she 
fastened the fragrant heart of flow- 
ers. On the small white card she 
wrote, "Happy Valentine to Su- 

Susan didn't go into the parlor 
when she came home. She ran 
straight upstairs, but not before 
Cordelia saw that her cheeks were 
as red as the sweater she wore. 

Notes of a popular tune drifted 
down the stairway and into the 
kitchen where Cordelia was trim- 
ming some Valentine cookies for 

"Seems like that's the song Fred 
thinks is real crazy," Cordelia was 

When Susan came down in her 
old bathrobe and shaggy slippers, 
Cordelia knew for sure there was 


no date for the prom, but Susan 
looked surprisingly happy. 

When she finally stepped into 
the parlor she saw the dress and 
the corsage. She flung both arms 
around her grandmother. "What a 
wonderful Valentine surprise! I'll 
tell you whai let's do, Grandma. 
You get all dressed up and so will 
I, then we'll sit by the fireplace and 
have a \^alentine party for two." 

A little later Cordelia and Susan 
were settled in front of the fire. A 
waltz was being played on the radio, 
and the soft aroma of the corsage 
filled the room. 

Suddenly Cordelia arose and 
walked to the mirror. She peered 
at the gray hair and the aging face. 
"Susan, do you think I'm pretty?" 
She turned smiling. 

"Oh, yes. Grandma. Fve always 
thought so. You are beautiful in 
that dress. Fve never seen you 
wear it before, yet I'm sure it's not 
new . . . because of the style." 

"It is very old and I am very 
old," Cordelia sighed. "When we 
were both much younger, I wore 
this dress on a Valentine's night. 
Your grandfather said I was pretty. 
We were married before the next 
Valentine's Day." 

For the next few hours, grand- 
mother and granddaughter traveled 
back through the years. They 
looked through the album, and they 
went upstairs to the room where 
the trunks were stored. They 
looked at pictures of Cordelia in 
other days, pictures of Grandpa 
and Steve and Susan's mother. 


They found an old Valentine 
with two angels holding a pink lace 
heart. Inside the heart it said, 
"Accept my undying love and de- 
votion. To Cordelia from Dan." 

Back in the parlor, Susan sat on 
the arm of her grandmother's chair. 

"You lived in such a nice time 
when you were young," she said 

"Any time is nice when you're 
young." Cordelia put her arm 
around Susan. 

"But Grandma, boys don't say 
things to girls now like Grandpa 
said about his undying love and de- 

As if to emphasize what she had 
said, Susan smiled and produced 
a crumpled piece of paper from her 

"This, in case you're wondering, 
is my Valentine from Fred. It 

Dear Susan, I hope you have a nice 
time even if we are not going to the 
prom together. I think you are real sharp 
and would like you to go with me to all 
the rest of the dances this year. The 
reason why I didn't ask you to go to the 
prom is that Marie asked me to take her, 
and because I work in her father's garage 
could I very well say no? Please ask 
Grandma to expect me for Sunday din- 
ner. Yours truly, Fred. 

"I see what you mean," Cordelia 
smiled. "It is different from Grand- 
pa's Valentine, but I guess it means 
practically the same thing. You 
see, I just remembered. Grandpa 
told me that night that he would 
like to come over to our house for 
Sunday dinner." 

Sixty Ljears Kyigo 

Excerpts From the Woman's Exponent, February i, and February 15, 1894 

"For the Rights of the Women of Zion and the Rights of the 
Women of All Nations" 

UTAH SILK AT THE WORLD'S FAIR: The ladies of Davis County con- 
tributed a set of furniture (seven pieces) to the ladies reception room in the Utah 
Building, upholstered in home-raised silk, it was a sage green brocaded with a spray 
of wild sage, the color harmonizing with the other furnishings in the room .... The 
raising of the worm is a labor which is extremely interesting, and to the womanly heart 
brings out a loving care and interest which makes it more than mere labor. 

— Margaret A. Caine 

SOUVENIRS OF LILAC TIME: I have the courage to declare myself a devoted 
admirer, not only of the beautiful and fantastic, but the weird in nature. It is part 
of my composition .... Lilacs are one of my especial weaknesses, for they are as- 
sociated with the earliest recollections of my child-life and school-girl history. I never 
see a lilac but it calls up tender memories connected with the past .... And, if I 
may tell it, the lilac bush oft holds many a precious secret. 

— ^Aunt Em 


Thou call'st from out the deep recesses of my soul 

sweet sympathy .... 
And all the while I feel a magic touch 
That brings such harmony of sight and sound 
And charity and love my bosom swell, 
With such intensity no tongue can tell 
And thy bright presence vivifies the spell; 
And I am treading on enchanted ground .... 

— E. B. W. 

MUSIC IN UTAH: In the growth of civihzation and the unfoldment of social 
development, music and her twin sister poetry take precedence of all the arts, and 
present an unmistakable index to national character. The pioneer settlers who crossed 
the Rocky Mountains to make homes in the valley of the Great Salt Lake were cer- 
tain in the early stage of their peculiar civilization to manifest the genius of music, 
and the hosts of Israel beguiled many an hour of their weary march across the conti- 
nent by singing the songs of Zion. The first musical organization formed in Utah 
was a brass band . . . under the leadership of Captain William Pitt .... In 1857 
Dominico Ballo, an Italian, highly endowed with the musical genius of his race, came 
to Salt Lake City and electrified the people with his performances on the clarinet 
. ... In 1853 David O. Calder, the pioneer teacher of vocal music, came to Salt Lake 
City, and settled over Jordan where he taught the first singing school in the Terri- 
tory .... In 1862 Professor Charles J. Thomas, who had for years been associated 
with some of the principal theatre orchestras in London, came to Salt Lake City, and 
at once took charge of the orchestra at the new Salt Lake Theater .... — Selected 

BRIGHAM YOUNG AND THE DRAMA: Brigham Young, the leader of mod- 
ern Israel in its exodus to these mountains, with his profound knowledge of human 
nature, typed with his New England sagacity, evinced consummate wisdom in sup- 
plying his people with the means of social and physical revivification. The weariness 
of travel, and the labor of making new homes, were enlivened by joyous music, fa- 
miliar songs, with the merry dance and social ball .... The projects of organizing a 
company with the combination of the musical and dramatic elements, received the 
hearty sanction of Brigham Young. — Selected 

Page 96 

Woman's Sphere 

Ramona W. Cannon 

^^'pHE Women of the Year 1953/' 
as nominated by Major Gen- 
eral Wilham F. Dean of the United 
States Army, are the heroic army 
nurses who served in the Korean 
War. Among those who received 
particular mention were: Captain 
Iris Craig, Lieutenant Dorothy De- 
vers, Lieutenant Lorna Wilson, and 
nurse Nancy Jones. 

QUEEN Elizabeth II, during her 
^ tour of the Commonwealth na- 
tions in December 1953, was royal- 
ly entertained by fifty-three-year-old 
Queen Salote Tupou of Tonga, 
who, last June, attended the coro- 
nation of Queen Elizabeth in Lon- 
don. As the visiting Queen stepped 
ashore at Nukualofa, it began to 
rain once more, as it had rained at 
their previous meeting. Both queens 
smiled broadly as Salote opened a 
large green umbrella and raised it 
above both their heads. Salote's 
48,000 subjects had been busy for 
many weeks painting the royal pal- 
ace, rehearsing the entertainment 
program, making arches and ban- 
ners, picking pineapples, preparing 
pigs to be roasted, and drilling the 
Royal Tongan MiHtary Band. 

AT the thirty-second National 

4-H Congress, held in Chicago 

in November, Margaret Ann Ash- 

ton of Provo, nineteen years old, 
was one of eight to win $300 schol- 
arships from Sears Roebuck Foun- 
dation. Her national prize was for 
home improvement — making a 
basement storeroom into an attrac- 
tive playroom. Among many im- 
provements, she upholstered furni- 
ture, made plywood walls, refinished 
a piano, made bookcases, tables, a 
radio case, and a lamp shade. Wan- 
da Lee Peacock of Price received a 
United States Savings Bond from 
the Kellogg Company, Battle Creek, 
Michigan, as a health-improvement 

lyfRS. Helen Werner Slocum be- 
gan a business with $2.50, 
which now grosses $250,000 a year. 
With her only resources a second- 
hand trailer, she began hauling 
boats in it from one state to an- 
other, near and far. Now she has 
many employees and handles a fair 
share of the nearly 5,000,000 small 
boats in this country, when they 
require dry-land transportation. 

"I\7^E extend birthday congratula- 
tions to Mrs. Clara Fisher 
Samuels, ninety, formerly of Ver- 
nal, Uintah County, Utah, now a 
resident of San Leandro, California; 
and Mrs. Isabella R. Crafts of Salt 
Lake City, Utah, ninety-three years 

Page 97 


VOL. 41 


NO. 2 

oforgetting Self 

High on the rocky battlements of 
a ridge in the Black Hills of South 
Dakota, four faces have been carved 
in lasting stone as a memorial 
to four great Americans whose 
strength, discipline, and foresight 
directed the building and the ex- 
tension of American constitutional 
government. They laid the struc- 
tural steel of freedom and built the 
shining towers of liberty. Of them 
it may be said that ''more than self 
their country loved . . . and mercy 
more than life." 

The faces carved in stone on that 
high wall are the faces of Washing- 
ton, Jefferson, Lincoln, and Theo- 
dore Roosevelt. The lines and the 
lineaments of the faces reveal in- 
tegrity and vision, courage and con- 
templation — qualities which have 
made the thoughts and the actions 
of these men live each day in 
America, and in the thoughts and 
dreams of many statesmen through- 
out the world. 

Let it be said of Washington, as 
we think of him in this month of 
February, that he evidenced in his 
own life that high integrity of pur- 
pose which places the self as the 
servant of others, as a builder for a 
more lasting monument than per- 
sonal pleasure or satisfaction. He 
dearly loved his home — the broad 
acres of Mount Vernon, the great 
river, and the columns of his house, 
the association of his family. But 
he endured the long struggle, the 
bitter cold of embattled winters, 

Page 98 

the despair of many failures — en- 
during that which he believed was 
temporary in the hope of establish- 
ing that which would be of lasting 
worth. 'Tet us raise a standard to 
which the wise and honest can re- 
pair," Washington said. 'The event 
is in the hand of God." 

And what of Thomas Jefferson, 
who had written the Declaration of 
Independence, and who wielded the 
tools of a master in building the 
structures which preceded the fram- 
ing of the Constitution? Jefferson 
was acting as minister to France 
during the drafting and the signing 
of that document. However, the 
lasting wisdom and breadth of his 
views, and the uncompromising 
honesty of his personality made a 
deep imprint upon the design of 
government. Although he wished 
to grant the fullest liberty which 
they might be capable of exercising 
to all people, still he was deter- 
mined to safeguard the written law 
and to uphold the legally estab- 
lished codes. "In questions of pow- 
er," Jefferson wrote, "let no more 
be said of confidence in man, but 
bind him down from mischief . . . 
by the Constitution." 

Well known and well loved, the 
introspective face of Lincoln is 
sober and brooding, yet kindly and 
even magnificent in its expression 
of love and tenderness. Through an 
era of crisis and tragedy, Lincoln 
moved as one dedicated to a great 
cause. Forgetting the disappoint- 


ments and despair of his own life, the extension of American influ- 
he visioned the ideal of freedom ence. It was he who saw a greater 
extended throughout the land. For- use for the waterways, reclamation 
getting self, by the very splendor of of arid lands, the building of rail- 
his leadership, he shaped the forces roads, and the wider use of the sea 
which 'a thoroughfare for freedom lanes for the commerce of the 
beat across the wilderness . . . ," world. Although he championed 
It has been said by modern leaders of industrial growth in the nation and 
great integrity that the face and the development of the resources of the 
life of Lincoln have been guides to territories, still Theodore Roosevelt 
them in times of fateful decisions, never lost sight of the roof of lib- 
and that the tenacity of his faith erty— the Constitution, and he was 
has imparted to them a beacon in ever alert to detect and deter any en- 
times of spiritual darkness. The croachment upon the firm pillars of 
great man sees beyond the restric- government. He was one who 
tions of his own needs and desires, helped to make possible a country 
He sees the fundamental concepts ''beautiful ... for amber waves of 
which are ageless and forever im- grain ... for purple mountain ma- 
perative. "Let every man remem- jesties above the fruited plain." 
ber," said Lincoln, ''that to violate ^^e faces of these four Ameri- 
the law IS to trample on the blood ^^^ statesmen carved upon the 
of his father, and to tear the char- monument in the hills of South 
ter of his own and his children's j^^^^^^^ 3,^ p^^t of our heritage, as 

5^ y* r ^ r are their thoughts and deeds which 

Most recent or the four great . j •, .1 • .i ^ «.4.^-kivi ^^*- 

^, , r A • aided so greatly in the establishment 

statesmen upon the stage of Amen- , ? l- r jr r 

can life, Theodore Roosevelt (1858- ^^^ protection of our edifice of 

1919) has become a symbol of the constitutional government, 

vigorous growth of the country and —V. P. C. 

« ♦ ■ 

UJirtnaai/ greetings to oformer LPresiaent 

KyLmii Ujrown JL^man 

Relief Society women throughout the Church are happy to extend 
birthday congratulations to our beloved former president Amy Brown 
Lyman, who has devotedly served the organization in many capacities, and 
who became general president in 1940, serving as president until April 
1945. In October 1953, as she stood with our present leaders, at the 
ground-breaking ceremony for the new Relief Society Building, many 
sisters remembered with gratitude the inspirational service which Sister 
Lyman has so willingly and so graciously given. Her activities have ex- 
emplified the numerous fields to which a charitable and highly gifted 
woman may extend her interest and her effort. At this time we wish her 
contentment and joy and many more years with her family and friends 
and the thousands of Relief Society women who love her and who have 
served under her leadership. 

Minor White 



QJor Such J/is cJhis 

Pansy e H. ToweYl 

One life is not enough, for I could spend 

Ten thousand years beside a mountain brook 

To hear its quiet murmuring and look 

Upon its pearl-fringed ripples. I could bend 

In daily reverence where aspens send 

Their whispered prayers to heaven, where the book 

Of nature lies wide open, though it took 

A thousand lifetimes, read it to the end; 

For who can see the winter sunlight cast 

Its purple shadows on the mountain snow 

Nor want this scene again? Or feel the kiss 

Of tender rain nor wish to hold it fast? 

Life is too urgent in the time we know 

Eternity must be for such as this! 

Page 100 

The Right Touch 

Cecil Pugmiie 

4 4 TUST the right touch on the 
I bodice, Mother, and it will 
^ be perfect!" cried Sue. 

The light touch! rebelliously 
thought Sarah. The very words her 
sister-in-law Alice had so glibly used 
yesterday, when she had knocked 
Sarah's plans for the trip right into 

Standing with arms akimbo on 
two plump hips, Sarah's usually 
snapping brown eyes, now red- 
rimmed from long hours of sewing 
tiny stitches, carried a stubborn, 
hurt expression as they surveyed 
her pretty daughter. Golden-haired 
Sue, a vision of loveliness, whirled 
before her mother in the creamy 
wedding gown, as unmindful of her 
mother's rebellious thought as she 
was of the cluttered dining room 
strewn with scraps of sewing on the 
table and every available chair. 

''Right touch, right touch!" sing- 
songed through Sarah's mind. 

''We're bringing Dad to your 
house directly from the hospital," 
Alice had unceremoniously an- 
nounced yesterday over the tele- 
phone. The words had stunned 
Sarah into silence. There had been 
a long pause, and then, "You're the 
only one with a spare bedroom, and 
besides, you have the right touch." 

Just like that— the right touch 
and a spare bedroom, and Sarah's 
long-planned trip dissolved like 
cubes of warmed ice. 

Any other time Sarah would 
gladly have accepted the responsi- 
bility of caring for Father Wood 

and his broken leg. But now of all 
times! It meant giving up the trip 
to Canada to see Margo. Little sis- 
ter Margo! Ten years ago Sarah had 
kissed the young bride goodbye, 
and now Margo's husband had been 
coming through town to take Sarah 
to Canada. This had seemed a 
chance of a lifetime. 

Now everything had been 
changed with a few words over the 

Last evening when Jim had ar- 
rived home and found his father 
ensconced in the spare bedroom, 
the room resembling a small hos- 
pital, he hadn't said a word about 
Sarah's trip. He had seemed sort 
of lost and puzzled. 

"Right touch! Spare bedroom!" 
Why Alice could have given up her 
own bedroom for her father. Sa- 
rah's mind was a beehive of sting- 
ing thoughts. 

Just because I'm a Relief Society 
president, they think I'm a Rock of 
Gibraltar. Just a strong old robot, 
with no plans or feelings of my own. 
Well, I've got feelings enough that 
I don't want to hear light touch 
again. Her thoughts clashed on 
and on, as she critically eyed each 
fold and tuck of the shimmering 
satin gown. There was something 
definitely lacking in the dress, but, 
so far, that sought-for touch had 
been elusive. 

A breath of summer breeze blew 
the white ruffled kitchen curtains 
inward, wafting its coolness through 
the warm bungalow, carrying along 

Page 101 


the aroma of boiling beans, remind- bye. She had felt hurt and disap- 

ing Sarah that Jim and the boys pointed when mother had taken the 

would soon be home for supper. dainty scarf, wrapped it in tissue 

''We'll have to clear up this mess, paper, and placed it in the old 

Sue. It's suppertime." trunk, with the words, ''Until you 

Reluctant to take off the shin- grow up to be a lady." 

ing gown Sue surveyed herself j j ^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^^ ^ ^. 

thoughtfully m the miprovised mir- g^^^j^ ^^^^^^^ ^^ j^^^^^j^ j ^^^^^ ^-^1 

ror propped upon two dinmg-room g^^ to wear the scarf. After mama 

chairs. She turned and twisted, ^-^^^ j .^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^^ ^^ 

this way and that. A definite fling 

of her head indicated that she had =;^ * « ♦ 

made a valuable discovery. MEXT morning, Sarah had Sister 

"Mother, I know! I know just Dixon come in and sit with Fa- 

what it needs! I saw it m Mailon's ther Wood. Ten o'clock found her 

window today. I guess you would in front of Mailon's admiring the 

call it a stole— a short stole. It was dainty stole draped across the shoul- 

draped over the bodice of a wed- ders of the wedding gown. The 

ding gown. It was as dainty as cob- single model posed against an elab- 

webs and was caught together in orate background of tinselled silver 

front by a cluster of tiny pearls." trees aburst with pink apple blos- 

Momentarily caught by Sue's en- soms. Sue was right! It was won- 

thusiasm, Sarah brushed aside some derful! Her mind's eye saw it draped 

patterns and sank into the nearest above the bodice of Sue's gown. It 

chair. As she listened to Sue's de- was the perfect answer to complete 

scription, from long ago came the the wedding gown. After finding 

memory of another scarf and the the right department, a saleslady 

hurting remembrance of a disap- brought the scarf from the window 

pointed little girl. and carefully spread it before 

Sarah on the glass counter. Close 

CHE had been only six! Such a up, it was more beautiful than in 

^ tomboyish, sunburned and freck- the window. Shadowy roses on the 

led - spattered - across-the-nose little trellis of clinging leaves were woven 

^ girl, whom Uncle Felix had sought i^^to a mesh of dainty filigree. It 

out as she sat dangling her dirty was scalloped with tiny rosebuds, 

foot in the old headgate, trying to Sarah felt a great relief. Making 

wash away the prickly-pear thistle the wedding gown had been more 

sticking in the sole of her left foot, of a strain than she had realized. 

He had brought her a present! and this would complete the dress. 

Dear, fascinating, globe-trotting, Mindful that her roughened fing- 

story-telling Uncle Felix. And such ers must not pull a single thread 

a present! A gossamer, lacy scarf, in the delicate fabric, Sarah stood 

a fascinator, even prettier than the spellbound in a dream all her own, 

one she had watched Miss Lang visualizing golden-haired Sue in the 

drape over her shoulders before complete ensemble. Suddenly, she 

telling all the school children good- was jarred from her muse by the 



words, ''Siicli a Ixirgain, too! Only 

Sarah's mind clicked back to the 
clarity of a calculating machine. 

"Whew/' she gulped. "Why, 
that's more than my daughter's 
whole outfit cost!" 

She thanked the saleslady as 
gracefully as possible, trying not to 
show her amazement at the price 
of the scarf. 

Feeling as disappointed as a child 
who has had a beautiful toy 
snatched away, Sarah stood upon 
the sun-beaten pavement to collect 
her thoughts. Opening her purse, 
she fingered some bills for Jim's in- 
surance premium, then pursing her 
lips she shoved the bills down deep 
into the corner of her bag. 

Then all of a sudden she chuck- 
led. Of course, she could have 
made the scarf herself. Her feet 
acquired new spring as she squared 
her shoulders and made for the 
nearest department store. She re- 
membered the manv times she had 
seen bolts of beautiful lace dis- 
played in the yardage departments. 

''Laces? Yes, Ma'am, we have 
that \'ery piece. I saw the scarf 
myself in Mailon's. It is identical," 
assured the clear-skinned girl behind 
the counter. Reaching beneath the 
counter, she felt for the bolt of lace, 
and then called, ''Mrs. Ames, where 
is the roll of lace No. 259?" 

"Sorry, Miss Hale. I sold the last 
bit ten minutes ago." 

The morning wore on, noon 
came, and late afternoon found 
Sarah still hunting the lace. Her 
quest had acquired the pattern of 
a tiresome game. 

"Sorry, just out." 

CARAH went the rounds of the 
stores before giving up. Fmally, 
with tired and aching feet, and feel- 
ing defeated and discouraged, she 
returned home. 

She was surprised to find Sister 
Dixon m the kitchen. Sarah had 
not expected to find her dinner all 
cooked, waiting to be served. Grate- 
ful for this unexpected respite, Sar- 
ah went to Father Wood. In spite 
of Sister Dixon's efforts to catch 
each little breeze by opening both 
windows, the room was warm and 
uncomfortable. Father Wood 
looked tired and wear\, but Sarah 
had never heard him complain of 
anything or anybody. He managed 
a cheerful greeting. For the first 
time Sarah began to realize that 
maybe it was painful for him to be 
confined and dependent upon her. 
She felt so tired and defeated, her- 
self, after tramping hot pavements 
all day that her feelings aligned 
themselves with the man lying help- 
less and dependent in the hot bed- 

Life has a strange way of taking" 
hold of us and managing us, she 
thought. Certainly, Father Wood 
would not be lying here dependent 
upon her if he could manage other- 
wise. He certainly did not ask for 
a broken leg. She remembered the 
time he had stood up for her 
against Jim in trivial things, making 
her feel she was something rather 
special and not just an accepted 
daughter-in-law. She remembered 
the times he had turned to her in- 
stead of Alice, his own daughter. 
It had long been sort of a familv 
joke that Alice was the family but- 
terfly, gay, pretty, and carefree, but 



irresponsible and not one to turn 
to in time of trouble. Jim's broth- 
ers and father usually turned to- 
ward Sarah in moments of need, 
since Jim's mother had died three 
years ago. 

Sarah fluffed his pillow and threw 
wide the door so that he could see 
what was going on in the kitchen. 
She brought a bookstand and placed 
a favorite magazine within easy 
reach and then went to prepare a 
tray for him. 

Sarah felt a deep satisfaction in 
seeing Father Wood eat with relish. 
Sister Dixon seemed in no hurry 
to go home, and it was rather nice 
having her bustle about the kitchen. 
For the first time, during the hur- 
ried day, Sarah felt a sense of re- 
laxation. She pulled a chair up by 
the bedside and began to laugh 
with Father Wood about chasing 
an elusive bit of lace all over town. 

''Sarah, I didn't know about the 
trip, or I would have stayed on at 
the hospital," apologized Father 

Supper over, Jim went to sit with 
his father. Sue had not returned 
from school, and the problem of 
the unfinished wedding dress began 
to rankle in Sarah's mind. She 
knew Sue would be disappointed 
about the scarf. Strange! Disap- 
pointment in two lives over a small 
thing like a whiff of lace, such a 
tiny thing, yet so important at the 
moment, mused Sarah. 

She climbed the stairs to the at- 
tic. While she was remembering 
she would take a look at the scarf 
which had waited so long for her 
to become a lady. I guess I sort of 
disappointed it, thought Sarah. 

npHE old trunk stood as sturdy in 
its four-square-cornered way as it 
had when her mother used it as a 
chest for her most cherished pos- 
sessions. Sarah blew the dust from 
its top as she pulled down the fast- 
eners. She raised the heavy lid, lift- 
ed the top till from its place, and 
put it on the floor. Searching in 
the bottom recess, she found the 
small package wrapped in yellowed 
tissue paper. As she untied its en- 
circling string, a silken web slipped 
from the wrapper and cascaded over 
her brown arm. Sarah gasped. She 
had forgotten how lovely it was. 
Creamy white lace! Real lace! No 
imitation, this. It was the most 
beautiful piece of lace she had ever 
seen. A tiny label stitched in one 
corner said, ''Made in Venice." 
Dainty orange blossoms were intri- 
cately woven on a gossamer network 
as sheer as butterfly wings. It 
seemed fashioned for a queen. 

Sarah draped the web of trans- 
parent beauty over her brown arm, 
but quickly removed it. It seemed 
out of place, just as much today as 
it would have been out of place 
years ago on the freckled-faced lit- 
tle girl. Mindful lest one cobwebby 
thread be pulled by her needle- 
pricked fingers, Sarah held the scarf 
away and in front of her, be- 
witched by its sheer loveliness. 

A squeak of the rusty hinge on 
the attic door jarred her back to 

"Mother! Oh, Mother! Where 
did you get it? Why, it's far lovelier 
than the one at Mailon's. It will 
just make the dress perfect. It's just 
the right touch." 

"Right touch!" Sarah smiled as 
she turned to the blue-eyed girl, 


sparkling with admiration and hap- 'Tve wanted to do this for a 

piness. long time, Sarah. Just haven't got- 

Carefully gathering together the ten around to it at the right mo- 
silken ends of the scarf, she placed ment," said Father Wood. '1 want 
the bit of beauty into the young it worn by a great little lady." 
girl's outstretched hand. Even in the dark, Sarah knew 

'Take it, child. It's a bridal gift, that the hard, irregular object was 
reserved by your grandmother, from Mother Wood's emerald engage- 
Uncle Felix." ment ring. 

Jim emerged from a chair in the 

Sarah tiptoed into Father Wood's shadows of the room and Sarah felt 
room to see that he was comfort- his arms go around her. 
able for the night. He appeared to 'Taking this from any other man 
be sleeping. Quietly, she pulled the in the world and I'd have grounds 
shade and tiptoed back again past for divorce," laughed Jim. 'Imag- 
the bed. A strong hand reached ine, a woman wearing an engage- 
out and she felt something pressed ment ring on each hand. Sure must 
into her hand. have the right touch." 

■ ♦ ■ 

Valentine for iriosemarii 

Ethel Jacohson 

Rosemary, Rosemary, Rosemary, named for 

Who's so delectable? The fairest of roses. 

If you've one faihng How well you know that 

It's quite undetectable. It's man who proposes! 

Listing your charms With suitable suitors 

Is a job insurmountable. Pursuing you frantically, 

You have so many Make me the one that 

They're simply uncountable! You smile on romantically! 

cyorever the 'Jjream 

Mary Gustafson 

Have you ever sat by a fireplace 
And dreamed as the dancing flame 
Held visions of faces forgotten 
Till you almost called a name? 

If you have you can answer clearly 

That you have seen, as I, 

And have known that the flame that quickens 

Will swiftly ash and die. 

But the dream drifts on forever. 
Eddying on through space 
Until it can find a welcome 
In the smile of an upturned face. 



aioovies uieip to Jxeeo crier c/< 



Lillie Walker, Wellsville, Utah, Has Made Two Hundred Sixty Quilts and 

Many Beautiful Hooked Rugs 

Lillie Walker, seventy-five years old, has been a widow for twenty-two years, but 
she has made her own living by doing home nursing and making and selling her beau- 
tiful hooked rugs and other items of handwork. Without assistance, she has made and 
quilted two hundred sixty quilts, and has designed and completed many hooked rugs 
which have given her a reputation for her original patterns and beautiful blending of 
colors, as well as expert workmanship. 

Mrs. Walker loves to work in the temples and has performed ordinance work in 
the Logan, Salt Lake, Manti, St. George, Idaho Falls, and Cardston temples. She 
has been a Relief Society visiting teacher for thirty-five years. She seldom misses at- 
tendance at Relief Society and Sunday School and often walks a mile to attend these 
meetings. Of her twelve children, nine are still living, and she has forty grandchildren 
and thirty-seven great-grandchildren. Her life is busy, useful, and happy. 


Lucy WooIJey Brown 

Only the shadows made by trees 
Are patches of frost this dawn. 
The sun kissed other white dust away; 
And left diamonds on the lawn. 

Page 106 

c/o vi/ashington 

Lucille Waters Mattson 

"It WASHINGTON walked among his men at Valley Forge during the "hard winter," 
■ ■ from which time was reckoned for seventy-five years in the backwoods, and 
instilled in them courage and endurance to drill and starve and die for freedom. It 
was miraculous that they did not capitulate — those men whose ancestors had come up 
from the dark ages knowing little but oppression, lack of opportunity, and autocratic rule. 
But the spark of freedom was firmly imbedded, and the blood of Ephraim was among 
them; they were fighting upon a promised land for a righteous cause. Though none 
could fully understand the purposes as yet, the passion for freedom which burned 
in Washington's breast, was fanned to flame by his strength, his courage, the de- 
termination of this inspired leader. 

We, as Latter-day Saints, accord to him all the greatness, all the personal at- 
tributes of character, all the genius of leadership given by the world, and, in addition, 
we acclaim him as inspired of God, fulfilling his holy purposes, chosen to free a 
favored land for a Prophet to bring upon the earth again the true and everlasting 


Christie Lund Coles 

How much the modern child has lost, 
Not coming home to the good, warm crust 

Of homemade bread with butter, sweet. 
Spread thickly for a special treat .... 

Windows were steamed, the house oven-warm. 
When, pink-cheeked, we entered from the storm. 

And found the fragrance, unequaled still. 
Of brown-baked loaves. Words cannot tell 

How the world became suddenly sunny 
With a slice of bread golden with honey. 

oCate (Buzzard 

MaryhaJe Woolsey 

Wind-driven in ghostly hordes, down city streets 
And up small country lanes, the snowflakes play 
At hectic games — well knowing how brief their time; 
Knowing how close behind, spring comes this way. 

Page 107 

QJrom L^edar L^hest to LDressing cJable 

Chia Laster 

TN small houses and apartments, space economy is the vital keynote today. Many 
•*• families have growing pains, and the problem of where to put winter clothes in 
summer and summer clothes in winter, and still have a well-balanced bedroom, has 
been something we have all faced at some time or other. 

Suppose you have an older cedar chest that you cannot do without, and, at 
the same time, do not have space for that much-desired dressing table. If this happens 
to be the problem in your home, here is a simple solution. Make the chest into an 
attractive dressing table! It can be done at very Httle expense and without any ex- 
perience at all. 


Materials Needed 

The material you choose for your dressing table skirt will depend, of course, upon 
the material of your drapes and spread and the other furniture and colors in the room. 
But let us suppose that the fabric is rayon taffeta. This makes a lovely dressing table 
skirt. You will need about 2 Yi yards, 54 inches wide. Also, you will need one roll 
of cotton batting, the width of the chest top. Be sure to buy two boxes of upholstering 
tacks, one box of carpet tacks, and have handy a hammer and scissors. 

Have a piece of clear glass cut to fit the top of dressing table, which is the top 
of the cedar chest. Now, for the cedar chest base, buy these materials and have them 
cut in this manner: plywood, /4" thick, cut the same size as the bottom of your 
cedar chest. Have legs cut to height desired, using 4" by 4". For leg supports, have 
two pieces of 1" by 4" boards cut the same length as the baseboard. Have two pieces 
1" by 4" cut the same width as the baseboard. See illustrations A-B-C-D. 

Page 108 




General Directions 

The cedar chest sits upon this box-Hke base, in order to be high enough for a dress- 
ing table, so your first step is to make the base. Take your Yz" plywood baseboard 
(No. A) and your two i" by 4" end boards (No. C). Nail together as shown in 
illustration. Next, nail on the two 1" by 4" lengthwise boards (No. B) in illustra- 
tion. Now, the legs are placed in each corner and nailed securely. When this is 
completed, set the cedar chest upon the dressing table base. 

Take the cotton batting and cover the cedar chest top to a one-inch thickness. The 
cotton is kept in place with the carpet tacks which are placed here and there. Cut 
material long enough and wide enough to fit top of cedar chest and stretch over sides 
of hd on three sides and back of lid on the fourth side. 

Next, pad six inches of the front and sides with cotton and tack in place. Now, 
cover with a seven-inch strip of the taffeta material. Use the upholstering tacks and 
make a design, as shown in the picture. If you like, a different design can be used. 
But leave the bottom row undone until you have gathered your dressing table skirt 
and tucked under the edge of strip. The raw edge of the strip is folded under and 
placed over gathered skirt. Then the last row of upholstering tacks is hammered in 

When this is completed, place clear glass over padded top. It is now completed 
and you can place mirror and lamps or whatever you desire on top. But the main 
idea is your storage space underneath the dressing table top. 

QOays {bad 

Gertrude T. Kovan 

I look toward the setting sun 
And view the night almost begun — 
The shadows gathering in the dusk, 
A solemn quiet and the hush 
Of birds in treetops, hovering there 
Within their nests; the evening air 
Filled with all memories of the day. 
While you, my love, are far away. 

cJhe CJinest (career of ^/LU 

Pauline M. Henderson 

^ ^ /'^^^ ^'^ i^st ^ housewife." seems to me that homemaking Hves 

If I was hstening to a radio up to this definition very well. 

program the other day, A successful wife and mother 

and heard a woman make this reply combines many skills and talents in 

to a question concerning her occu- the fulfillment of her role in life, 

pation. The words were accom- any one of which, if followed ex- 

panied by an apologetic little laugh, clusively, would command a good 

as though the speaker were a bit salary and a fair amount of respect 

ashamed of her calling. in the world of business. 

I thought, suddenly, how often She is a nutritionist, having a 

I had heard those same words! working knowledge of all the vari- 

Why! I had said the same thing ous food elements necessary to the 

myself, many times— and in that health of her family, and she knows 

same self-deprecatory tone! how to skillfully combine them to 

Perhaps I was in an unusually in- make appetizing meals, three times 
trospective mood that morning, but a day, every day in the year, 
the incident started me thinking. Starting with four walls, some 
Why, I wondered, should we— the furniture, and other inanimate ob- 
homemakers of the world— be jects, she becomes an interior dec- 
ashamed of this most rewarding of orator, as she creates a home that 
all positions in life? is a haven of peace and rest for 

I have heard complaints from those she loves, 

many women, that simply being a Should one of her family become 

housewife does not provide a wom- ill, she is a nurse— so far as possible 

an with sufficient opportunity for making up in loving care what she 

self-expression, or a large enough may lack in professional skill, 

scope in which to develop her tal- As she manipulates the family 

ents to the fullest extent. Indeed, finances, she becomes an economist 

I have, on occasion, added my voice of no mean ability, stretching the 

to this lament. We are prone to budget to cover all her family's 

look upon our work as drudgery, present needs, as well as providing 

and to dwell enviously upon the a reserve for the future, 

lives of our sisters who have made The mother of a family is also 

careers for themselves in the busi- a teacher, as she helps her children 

ness and professional world. But, through their school years, adding 

after giving the matter some seri- much to their education that they 

ous thought, I, for one, have re- cannot learn from formal instruc- 

vised my opinion. tion. 

The dictionary defines "career'' And, in addition to all of this, 

as '*a profession or other calling de- the homemaker performs what is 

manding special preparation and her most important function— that 

undertaken as a life's work." It of spiritual counselor. To her, God 

Page 110 


has intrusted the molding of the 
characters of her children. To dis- 
charge this trust is her duty and also 
her privilege. 

What triumphs in the business or 
professional world— however great 


they may be— can compare in im- 
portance and lasting satisfaction to 
the shaping of human lives? 

So, let us wear our aprons proud- 
ly as a banner— a symbol of a truly 
exalted profession! 

JLost ffiittens? 

Elizabeth Williamson 

The children will never misplace their mittens or gloves if they have their names 
firmly attached. The most decorative method is embroidering their names on gloves 
and mittens. 

If the names are lengthy, use initials. Embroider with wool to match the mittens 
or use a bright contrasting color to attract attention. 

The Deeper Melody 

Chapter 5 
Alice Money Bailey 

Synopsis: Steven Thorpe, a widower 
with three small children, becomes inter- 
ested in Margaret Grain, a registered 
nurse, who has taken care of his baby 
during an attack of pneumonia. Mar- 
garet's mother, a widow, who has been 
acting as Steven's housekeeper temporari- 
ly, decides to continue in this position 
until Margaret's marriage to Dr. Rex 
Harmon. In the meantime, Margaret has 
accepted the position of night superin- 
tendent in the hospital, and Steven finds 
it impossible to see her. He has been 
made vice-president of the Pikes Peak 
Machinery Company, when his secretary, 
Miss Tate, invites him to the symphony. 

4 4 /^ H, thank you/' Miss Tate 
I I murmured and hurried 
^^ into an explanation of 
how she had come to have the tick- 
ets, quite by accident, she assured 
him fervently. 

Steve was sorry he had been led 
into it, later, when it came to the 
actual going, but only a cad would 
wriggle out of it, and Steve did not 
look upon himself as a cad. Miss 
Tate looked smart and was taste- 
fully dressed, when he picked her 
up. She talked quite intelligently. 
She asked about the children, 
especially Phyllis. She knew a sur- 
prising amount of the details of 
his life. She must have been the 
one to type J. T.'s notes, Steve 
thought. She encouraged him to 
talk about himself and the children, 
saying she adored babies, and that 
sometime she would like to bring 
some gifts for his children. 

He felt on edge with her, stiff 
and cool, but tried not to show it. 
After all, this was a situation large- 
Page 112 

ly of his own making. He had 
had no business considering her on 
familiar terms, even in his own 
mind. Thoughts were uncanny; 
they had a way of becoming reali- 
ties. In this case, they had certain- 
ly been the edge of balance be- 
tween saying no to Miss Tate and 
accepting her invitation. 

The music was superb; it quick- 
ened a deadness in him, its flowing 
streams pouring into his emptiness. 
His life had been too busy and 
too complicated of late to include 
such things as a symphony. Even 
so, he did not remember its having 
had such an effect on him in the 
old days, an effect beyond enjoy- 
ment. Now, it seemed a new 
language, plumbing the depths of 
his emotions, the color, movement, 
and sound exploring his emotions 
—the sadness, the loneliness, and 
the pathos, ravelling out tired mys- 
teries and answering old questions. 
It voiced his triumph and spoke 
his resolve. It was as if Margaret 
sat beside him— that all he had to 
do was to reach and touch her hand, 
as if the music were a language be- 
tween them, a bond, a sesame, a 
key. It was in this hour that his 
love for her became full and real 
and undeniable. 

''Do you know I'm here?" Miss 
Tate was asking, and her voice 
jarred him violently. 

He came reluctantly back to re- 
ality—the reality of her, instead of 
Margaret, here beside him, the 
knowledge that Margaret would 



never share such an experience with 
him. There was a bitter taste in his 
mouth as they moved down the 

lyi ISS Tate was chattering along— 
the maestro's timing had been 
a little ragged. Didn't he think the 
flute wasn't quite up to standard? 
Her voice sounded like tinkling 
brass beside the deeper melody of 
his love for Margaret. It stopped 
only when one of her friends, 
whom Steve recognized dimly and 
with dismay as one of the office 
force, rushed up to them. 

"Oh, Miss Tate! Fm so glad 
you made it. Were the seats all 
right? I couldn't get the ones you 
asked for, but I thought . . . ." 

Steve looked sharply at Miss 
Tate and caught her frantically 
signalling the girl to silence, her 
face a study in violence. He was 
so shocked by her expression that 
he didn't remember for hours that 
she had said the tickets came to 
her by accident. At first it angered 
him, then amused him. 

He told Mrs. Grain about it. 

''Sounds like a trap to me," was 
her summation. 

''So long as it caught the right 
victim," Steve laughed. 

"It won't be the last trap," pre- 
dicted Mrs. Grain. "A handsome 
young man like you is a natural 
prey for lonesome girls. If you 
don't choose one yourself, one will 
choose you." 

"I'll choose my own wife, 
thank you," said Steve shortly. 

A few nights later, when Steve 
had kissed the children good night, 
put on his slippers, and was settled 
with his paper, the doorbell rang, 
and there stood Miss Tate, her eyes 

sparkling, her arms laden with 

"I just brought some little things 
for the children— the gifts I men- 
tioned—you didn't say I couldn't— 
it is such fun— and I do hope they 
aren't asleep!" she managed all in 
one breath. 

Steve's first reaction was of an- 
noyance and distaste at having the 
children excited at their bedtime- 
having his secretary bringing gifts 
for them, but she was so excited 
there was nothing else to do but 
have Mrs. Grain bring them in. 

The children clung to their fa- 
ther and eyed Miss Tate with 
round, unfriendly eyes until she 
lured them with her gifts, letting 
each one undo his own parcel. 
There were dresses of pink and blue 
crisp silk for the girls, a doll for 
each, with matching dresses. Davey 
had a toy train and some new cow- 
boy boots. The latter he eyed 
solemnly, clutching the train. 

"Other Mama doesn't want me 
to wear those," he pronounced, but 
fell to his knees and became a toot- 
ing, chugging train immediately. 

CTEVE didn't explain when Miss 
Tate was momentarily set back. 
The children were so ecstatic over 
the gifts that they quite forgot their 
diffidence of the strange lady and 
gathered around her, all chattering 
at once in their treble voices. She 
was on the floor with them, alter- 
nately showing Davey how to wind 
his train and pulling the little 
dresses of the girls into place. Steve 
had to admit she was charming, 
even pretty, with her hair shaken 
loose and the flush on her face. He 
was always misjudging the girl. 
"Pretty dress," said Ilene, her 



blue eyes shining, and Phyllis 
echoed, "Oh, pitty/' 

Steve's heart smote him, seeing 
their pleasure in the pretty dresses. 
He had seen to it that they had 
the necessary clothes for comfort, 
but it had been a long time, in fact 
never, that he had bought things 
for beauty for the little ones. 

'Tm afraid you've opened my 
eyes to a new duty. Miss Tate. I 
had no idea they were old enough 
to know a pretty dress from a mere- 
ly useful one." 

''How could you know, Steve, be- 
ing a man? Only a woman knows 
how a little girl feels, Fm afraid." 

CTEVE felt a little shock at her 

use of his name, but quickly cov- 
ered it. After all, Steve was his 
name, and there was no use being 
a stuffed shirt about it, especially 
after the girl had so unselfishly 
brought gifts to his children. Her 
words made him feel suddenly in- 
adequate to bring up his little girls 
by himself. Goodness knows what 
mysterious benefits he would rob 
them of in the ignorance of his 
male point of view. 

*1 must go now," she said at last. 
''Would you call a cab, Steve?" 

Of course Steve couldn't let her 
go home in a cab after such an 
errand, and, somehow, he had made 
a promise to accompany her to the 
theatre when he returned home 
that night. 

Mrs. Grain mentioned Miss Tate 
at breakfast next morning. 

"Yes, it was very thoughtful of 
her to bring gifts," said Steve, 
spooning cereal into Phyllis' mouth. 

"Very nice," agreed Mrs. Grain 
without conviction. 

Steve wiped Phyllis' chin with a 

napkin. "You don't sound sin- 
cere," he observed. 

"Men/" Mrs. Grain exploded 
cryptically. "They don't see 
through a thing!" She would say 
no more, except that she ought not 
to have said as much, it was none 
of her business, and that the gifts 
had surely delighted the children. 

"How's Margaret?" Steve asked, 
partly to change the subject, but 
mostly because he hadn't seen any 
evidence of her having been here 
for days, and longing for word from 
her. He tried to sound casual. 

"Fine!" said Mrs. Grain heartily. 

"You still don't," said Steve. 

"Don't what?" Mrs. Grain count- 

"Sound sincere. Is something 

"I've had six children marry," 
Mrs. Grain said. "I never made the 
choice for one of them, but some- 
times it is hard to sit back and 
watch them make mistakes." 

"Look here! Is Margaret making 
a mistake? Doesn't she love this 
fellow?" demanded Steve eagerly, 
too eagerly, he perceived. 

"She loves him, all right, or she 
would see him differently. Nurses 
are trained to worship doctors— to 
jump up when one comes near, 
wait till one goes through a door 
first .... It's 'Yes, Doctor, No, 
Doctor.' " 

"Oh, they have to, at work, you 
know. Lives depend upon it— 
upon absolute and quick obedience 
of nurses to doctors, but . . . ." 

"But what?" 

"I have wondered how much of 
it affects Margaret in her feeling 
for Dr. Harmon, and how much is 
real between them. I guess you 
could really put all this down as 


a mother's case of jitters. It is just conversation with her, his strong de- 

that tomorrow she is buying her sire for more to come— of the emo- 

wedding dress and it seems so . . . ." tion that had shaken him at her 

She stopped, for Steve had presence, his sharp awareness when- 
dropped his fork with a great clat- ever she entered a room. He re- 
t^r. membered the day he had wanted 

''.... so final!'' to kiss her. Now he wished he 

"It does, indeed!" agreed Steve had. He would at least have had 
fervently, applying himself fever- that to remember. 
ishly to stuffing food into the Steve groaned. There was noth- 
mouths of the children. For him- ing whatever to be gained from 
self, he could not eat another bite, such thinking, and nothing to do 
and found excuse to leave the table but what he had done before— 
shortly. work, and work hard. There was 
***** plenty waiting for him— plenty con- 
T OOKING at it coldly, later, he nected with his new position as 
realized that certainly she would vice-president of Pikes Peak. It was 
be buying her wedding dress. Sure- more than the work and routine in- 
ly she loved Dr. Harmon, and, of volved. In giving him stock and 
course, there was nothing wrong making him vice-president, J. T. 
with the man. Steve, deep in dis- had by-passed some old and faith- 
appointment, wondered what he ful employees. While there was 
had expected— what he had wanted, nothing anyone could do about it, 
Discovery that Dr. Harmon had Steve knew that to many he was a 
impossible vices? Was a liar? A newcomer who had to justify J. T.'s 
philanderer? Jealousy, Steve thought, faith in him. 

could quickly undermine a man's There was J. T. himself. Steve 

finer nature. had occasion to think many times 

Jealousy had nothing to do with that everything had its price; noth- 
Steve's love for Margaret, however, ing was free of payment. It only 
with the sinking sense of loss he remained to choose the coin of pay- 
had when he thought of her wed- ment. Grateful as he was for J. T.'s 
ding, with the knife-edge of despair interest and generosity, and for the 
turning in his heart, thinking of her seeming fairy tale opening for him, 
beyond his reach forever, once she he came to know what the old man 
was married. He tried to think of meant when he said: ''Humor me 
other things, to close the unhappy in my whims,'' for J. T. was becom- 
subject from his mind, but all ing more irascible every day. Steve 
across town, on his way to work, had come to his new duties totally 
little snatches of conversation came unprepared in m.any respects, and 
vividly to his mind, little visions of lacking in capacity in many ways 
her slim white figure moving for the job. He was trying hard to 
through his house, of her cradling master each detail, but J. T. always 
the little, sick Phyllis, of Davey and seemed to be pushing him just a 
Ilene trotting faithfully after her, little beyond his ability. Steve took 
arguing "My mama!" "No, my most of it gladly as a means of new 
mama!" He thought of his own growth, but the older nxau \?<as not 



above reminding him that he was 
the beneficiary of J. T.'s bounty, 
and that was harder to take- 
sometimes seemed impossible. 

'TouVe done a lot for me, and 
I appreciate it," he told J. T. once, 
''but you haven't bought me!" 

''Now, now! Steve, calm down," 
J. T. had shouted. "Can't you let 
an old man have his joke?" 

CTEVE wasn't so easily appeased. 
"You still have your wits, }. T., 
and you don't need to hide behind 
Father Time." 

To Steve's dismay the intercom 
had been open, and report of the 
little intercharge went all through 
the plant, or so Miss Tate reported, 
with mirth. Steve was upset about 
it, for he loved }. T. and all he 
stood for, but the men looked at 
him with deep respect after that. 
Very few of them dared to brave 
the old man's roaring voice and 
belligerent attitude, although all of 
them knew his bigness of heart. 
The affair of the cable was a case 
in point. It was a lifting cable of 
one of the cranes— the only crane, 
in fact. 

Steve noticed it weakening when 
he made his rounds. He mentioned 
it to J. T., saying they had better 
stop loading the orders of ma- 
chinery onto the flat cars and re 
place it. 

"You're just like all new vice- 
presidents, Steve — think money 
comes easy. Hang it all, we've 
only got one crane, and that order 
is a rush job." 

"Each of our men has only one 
life," retorted Steve. 

"That cable is still good as new," 
argued J. T. 

"It has to be changed," Steve 
shot back. 

"Look who's giving orders," 
shouted J. T. "Who do you think 
you are, the president?" 

"I'm next thing to it," Steve gave 

"Sure that cable has to be 
changed," said J. T. in a voice 
which was suddenly soft. "It's going 
to be changed just as soon as this 
order is filled." 

Steve, feeling grateful for the 
compromise, not wanting to push 
J. T. too far, let it go for the pres- 
ent, although he kicked himself for 
spinelessness afterward. If a thing 
was dangerous, it was dangerous. 
Well, tomorrow was Saturday; the 
order would be finished and shipped. 
The first thing Steve would do 
Monday morning would be to have 
that cable changed. 

To his relief, Saturday passed 
without mishap. Perhaps he had 
misjudged the danger. Saturday 
was also the night to take Miss 
Tate to the theatre. It was another 
fine experience. Steve had to admit 
Miss Tate had excellent taste, but 
again he wished for Margaret. In 
one moment of suspense Miss 
Tate's hand sought his. She seemed 
almost unconscious of the act, but 
he had the impulse of withdrawal, 
however, he returned the pressure 

It was a mistake, for when they 
went to the lobby for intermission 
she clung to him possessively, link- 
ing her arm in his, and Steve felt 
uncomfortable, that she was dis- 
playing him as her own. Not that 
it mattered. He was a stranger in 
a strange land, but as they turned 
to leave the lobby for their seats, 
they came face to face with Mar- 
garet and Dr. Harmon. 

(To be continued) 


Margaiet C. Pickeiing, General Secretary-Treasurer 

All material submitted for publication in this department should be sent through 
stake and mission Relief Society presidents. See regulations governing the submittal 
of material for "Notes From the Field" in the Magazine for April 1950^ page 278, and 
the Handbook of Instructions, page 123. v^^r&y, 


•n submitted by Mae P. Matis 



Front row, seated, left to right: Senja Aalto, Lahti; Sofia Ranta, Helsinki; Mae 
P. Matis, President, Finnish Mission Rehef Society; Anna Liisa Laakso, Tampere. 

Back row, standing, left to right: Ida Johannson, Fori; Toini Halonen, Turku; 
Maila ValKama, Helsinki; Korttu Myynti, Vasa; Kerttu Rautavaara, Jakobstad. 

Mae P. Matis, President, Finnish Mission Relief Society, in reporting on the ac- 
tivities of the enthusiastic Relief Society sisters of Finland, writes: "Everything is fine 
here in the Finnish Mission. Our sisters are all working hard on bazaars and enjoying 
the lessons .... I am enclosing a picture of our mission-wide conference in Fori last 
spring. These conferences are always a spiritual feast, and they give a feeling of unity 
and strength to the sisters who are so new in this work. The group includes a work 
director from each branch participating in the conference. Each of them had brought 
an article or two of handwork to exhibit at our conference .... I am so proud of 
each of our groups and the things they accomplish. They are mindful of the sick and 
poor and always willing to give of their substance to help those less fortunate. . . , 
All the Finnish sisters join with me in sending to all members of the general board 
our love and best wishes . . . ." 

Page 117 



Photograph submitted by Virginia K. Campbell 


Standing in front of the piano, left to right: Ruth Sessions, chorister; Virginia 
K. Campbell, President; Charlotte Brown, organist; Thelma Welker, assistant organist. 

Photograph submitted by Elizabeth W. Hatch 


Front row, seated, left to right: Elsie Millward, First Counselor; Elva A. Call. 
President; Elnora Shipley, Second Counselor. 

Second row, standing, left to right: Faye Cooper; Martha Stoddard; Martha 
Shipley; Klea C. Perkins, Secretary; Wanda Whitworth; Lenna Bowler; A'vanda Ship- 
ley; Bertha Simons; Marcelle Hatch; Ida Miles; DeLila Simons. 

Third row, standing, left to right: Ann Whitworth, organist; Grace Whitworth, 
literature class leader; Elsa Marie Wilson; Thelma Redford, theology class leader; Idris 
Hebdon; Elizabeth Hatch, social science class leader; Agatha Hatch; Grace Byington. 

Elizabeth W. Hatch is president of Idaho Stake Relief Society. 



Photograph submitted by Mildred M. Dillman 

DENVER, COLORADO, August 27th and 28th, 1953 

Front row, left to right: Grace Gardner, President, Pueblo District; Emma Mae 
Allen, President, West Nebraska District; Mima Tuttle, President, West Colorado 
District; Clarinda Roundy, President, West New Mexico District; Ray E. Dillman, 
President, Western States Mission; Mildred M. Dillman, President, Western States Mis- 
sion Relief Societ)'; Belle S. Spafford, General President of Relief Society; Kate Whet- 
ten, Counselor, Western States Mission Relief Society; Louine Cromar; Hazel Loy; 
Colleen Kirgan; Reva Johnson, President, Delta, Colorado, Relief Society. 

Second row, left to right: Cloravella Brooks, Del Norte Relief Society; Alma 
Schofield, President, San Luis District; Anna Davis, President, Albuquerque Branch 
Relief Society; Hazel King, Albuquerque; Bertha Jensen, theology class leader, West 
Colorado District; Maymie Riding; Lerena Barlow, work director, West Colorado Dis- 
trict; Evelyn McKinnon, Counselor, West Colorado District; Gladys Knight; Mildred 
Moss; Florence Grow. 

Photograph submitted by Elva J. Beal 


At left, front row. Fern Gunderson, reader; standing directly behind the organ 
on the front row, Alta Hansen, chorister; second from the left on the second row, 
Elva J. Beal, President, Lost River Stake Relief Society; standing directly in front 
of the piano, Bernice Wennergren, pianist; ninth from the left, back row, Mary B. 
Tibbits, First Counselor. 



Photograph submitted by Stella C. Nelson 


Stella C. Nelson, President, Hawaiian Mission Relief Society, reports that the 
sisters in the Hawaiian Mission are enthusiastic workers, and the Mau District Con- 
vention was unusually successful: "We had eighty-three in attendance at the morning 
session, and eighty-two in the afternoon. The theme was 'Better Planning Makes the 
Relief Society More Interesting All Year.' Maui District has thirteen active Rehef 
Societies, with an enrollment of 175. We were pleased with the large attendance, as 
many of the sisters had to come quite a distance to attend. These conventions that 
we have held throughout our mission this past year, I am sure, will be a great help in 
our work. Already I can see how much improvement has been made and how much 
more interest the sisters are taking." 

Photograph submitted by Nona W. Slade 


May 26, 1953 

Seated at left side of left-hand table, left to right: Cora Stoddard; Louisa Ensign; 
Thelma Ketcham; Berneice Brown. At end of left-hand table, left to right: Ethel Mar- 



riott; Zella Jones; Luella Dustin. At right side of left-hand table, from back to front: 
Grace Adderley; Olive Wilson; Erma Vanden Akker, chorister; Carrole Vanden Akker. 

Seated at the right-hand table, beginning at the front, left: Ida C. Cook; Ardella 
Johnson; Mary Drake; Esther Mitchell; Madohn Jensen; Alice McFerrin; Elsie God- 
frey; Alice Baker; Martha Van Braak; Virginia Jensen; Haleen Christiansen; Mary 

Standing at the back, left to right: Norrine Powers; Lucy Beckstead; Reka Vlaan- 
deren; Anna Cole; Mary Burgess; Second Counselor Catherine Souter; President Mar- 
garet Reyns; First Counselor Emily Wilson; Secretary Laura P. Gamble; work meet- 
ing leader Mary Edith Empey. 

Photograph submitted by Betty Buckley 


Front row, seated, left to right: Areola Brady, Secretary; Salhe Britt, Second 
Counselor; Betty Buckley, President; Grace Reed, First Counselor. 

Second row, standing, left to right: Margaret Britt; Menerva Cornley; Katie Smith. 

Third row, standing, left to right: Leola Reed; Louise Kimble; Nellie Ward; 
Beatrice Dunn; Edith Norton; Hazel Smith. 

Fourth row, standing, left to right: Susie Newell; Leanee Britt; Francis Britt; Nel- 
he Calcote; Rachel Britt; Mildred Smith; Eunice Smith; Blanche Reed. 

Emily E. Ricks is president of the Southern States Mission Relief Society. 



Photograph submitted by Lavena L. Rohner 


Standing in front of the piano, left to right: President Lavena L. Rohner; chorister 
Margaret W. Chapman. 

Seated at the piano, Lucille Peel, organist. 

President Lavena L. Rohner reports that this group, organized in 1948, has 
furnished music for stake conferences, for Relief Society conventions, and for many 
socials. They have presented several outstanding Easter cantatas, including the lovely 
dramatic presentation of "The Seven Last Words of Christ." Their beautifully ren- 
dered numbers are an important part of all stake Relief Society gatherings. 

Photograph submitted by EInora T. Loveland 


September 17, 1953 

Front row, seated, left to right: President EInora T. Loveland; First Counselor 
Edna Millar; Second Counselor Wave Hinckley; Secretary Lillian Call; visiting teacher 
message leader Irene Hayes. 

More than three hundred women from the nine wards of Boise Stake attended 
the convention. President EInora Loveland presented, as a pattern for the visiting 
teachers, the following qualities: dependability, tolerance, charity, love, humility, and 
prayer. Sister Mary Emma Russell was honored as having served for the longest period 
of time — fifty-two years, and Mary Porritt was honored for having served fifty years. 
Twenty-four of the visiting teachers have served for twenty-five years. Eighty-three of 
the teachers achieved a record of one hundred per cent for the past year. All were 
given beautiful corsages and each was presented with a copy of A Centenary of Relief 



Photograph submitted by Emma L. Stephens 


Left to right: Annis Badger, ninety-two years old, a visiting teacher for fifty years; 
Bertha Simmons, sixty-seven years old, who has served as a visiting teacher for fifty- 
one years; Charlotte Swenson, seventy-five, who has served as a visiting teacher for 
fifty-two years. Sister Simmons and Sister Swenson still visit their districts each month 

Emma L. Stephens is president of Lorin Farr Stake Relief Society. 

iuecause of I fie 

Bertha A. Kleinman 

Before I lose the beauty of today, 
And night shall pencil out the horizon. 
Let me respond with something brave to say, 
Something for you before the day is gone. 
Before I lose the glint of this sweet hour, 
And day's routine shall portion all my time. 
Let me some message with its good empower, 
To tell you how I love you, friend of mine! 
Before I lose the courage you have taught, 
The treasure of conviction you possess, 
Let me respond in some reflected thought 
To carry on and on its loveliness. 
Let me strive on some oracle to be 
That you shall yet be glad because of ine. 


cJheology^ — Characters ar^d Teachings 
of The Book of Mormon 

Lesson 24— Alma, Son of Alma 

Elder LeJand H. Monson 

(Text: The Book of Mormon: Alma 1-8) 

For Tuesday, May 4, 1954 

Objective: To point out the influence which righteous men can exert in a de- 

A FTER the death of Alma the fa- 
ther and King Mosiah, Alma 
the son had full responsibility for 
the ecclesiastical and secular affairs 
of the Nephites throughout the land 
of Zarahemla, he being chief judge 
and high priest. (See Mosiah 
29:42.) The task of administering 
the government was based upon 
laws Mosiah had formulated, and 
these laws had been accepted by the 
people. Moreover, the people had 
elected their lesser judges and were 
aware of the responsibility which 
they had to protect and preserve 
their newly given liberties under 
their representative form of govern- 


Always, however, there are peo- 
ple who will not work according to 
a pattern established by the ma- 
jority. Nehor was one of these 
men. In the first year of the reign 
of the judges, he struggled to intro- 

Page 124 

duce priestcraft among the people. 
He taught that every priest and 
every teacher ought to become pop- 
ular, and ought not to labor for his 
own support, but should be sup- 
ported by the people. He contended 
against members of the Church be- 
cause they preached the gospel one 
to another without money and with- 
out price. 

In lieu of the true gospel, Nehor 
taught that the Lord had created 
all men and had redeemed all men, 
and, in the end, all men should have 
eternal life. 

Nehor found many people who 
believed his words, and he even be- 
gan to establish a church. But Ne- 
hor was not willing to rely upon his 
persuasive power alone, but sought 
to enforce his views by means of the 

One day Nehor met Gideon, who 
had been an instrument in the 
hands of God in delivering Limhi 
and his people out of bondage, a 



teacher and a valiant defender of 
the faith. Altercations arose be- 
tween them when Gideon opposed 
Nehor's point of view. As the argu- 
ment became more heated, Nehor 
unsheathed his sword and slew 
Gideon, who was old and not able 
to withstand Nehor's blows. 

Nehor was given a trial and was 
judged by Alma in accordance with 
the law which has been established 
among the people by Mosiah. By 
the law Alma condemned him to 
death as a murderer. He was also 
guilty of priestcraft and had sought 
to enforce it by the sword. Nehor 
was, therefore, taken to the top of 
the hill Manti and was put to death. 

Nehor's death, however, did not 
end priestcraft, for there were other 
greedy souls who sought for riches 
and honor. These men contrived 
to preach false doctrines, feigning 
a sincere belief in them, because 
they knew that the laws of Mosiah 
punished a liar, but the law had no 
power on any man for his belief. 
Resultant conditions brought the 
withdrawal and excommunication of 
many from the Church. 

Persecution of the members of 
the Church followed. This persecu- 
tion solidified the group. Those who 
had sufficient food shared with the 
poor, the needy, and the afflicted. 
The people realized that all were 
equally precious in the sight of God, 
that the preacher was no better than 
the hearer, nor the teacher than the 

A spirit of greater co-operation 
entered among the members of the 
Church, and they increased in all 
kinds of wealth. They had an 
abundance of flocks, herds, grain, 
gold, silver, silk, linen, and other 

precious things. They regarded 
their wealth, not as an end, but as 
a means; they did not set their 
hearts upon riches but were liberal 
to all. They clothed the naked, fed 
the hungry, and administered relief 
to the sick. 

This condition did not exist 
among those who did not belong to 
the Church. Following such base 
and wicked practices as idleness, gos- 
siping, idolatry, whoredoms, sor- 
ceries, and murderings, contentions 
arose among them and they wasted 
what they did gather together, 
showing how a lack of righteousness 
produces economic deterioration 
among a people. 


In the beginning of the fifth year 
of the reign of the judges, another 
complex problem arose. A minority 
group of the people sought to make 
Amiici their king. They realized, of 
course, that it must be done by the 
consent of the people. All the peo- 
ple gathered together *'to cast in 
their voices concerning the matter 
.... and the voice of the people 
came against Amiici." Dissatisfied 
with the result, and unwilling to 
abide by the decision of the ma- 
jority, Amiici encouraged his fol- 
lowers to disregard the majority, and 
he was soon made king over the mi- 
nority group. 

In the terrible battle which fol- 
lowed, the Amlicites were defeated. 
Spies sent by Alma followed the 
fleeing Amlicites as far as the land 
of Minon, above the land of Zara- 
hemla. They reported that the 
Amlicites had joined with a numer- 
ous host of Lamanites and were at- 
tacking the Nephites living in that 



Strengthened by the righteousness 
of their cause and by the hand of 
the Lord, the Nephites defeated the 
combined forces of the Lamanites 
and Amhcites * as numerous almost, 
as it were, as the sands of the sea" 
(Alma 2:27). Alma fought face to 
face with Amlici in the battle with 
swords, and Alma being strength- 
ened by the Lord, slew Amlici. 

By the sixth year of the reign of 
the judges peace was restored 
throughout the land. However, 
every soul had cause to mourn— 
mourning over the loss of their 
loved ones, and the destruction of 
their grain, flocks, and herds. The 
people believed ''it was the judg- 
ments of God sent upon them be- 
cause of their wickedness and . . . 
they were awakened to a remem- 
brance of their duty'' (Alma 4:3) 
and turned to their God for help. 
Many converts were baptized in the 
waters of the river Sidon, and they 
began to establish the Church more 

However, in the eighth year, pride 
entered the hearts of the people 
and wickedness sapped their vitality. 
They ''set their hearts upon riches 
and upon the vain things of the 
world" (Alma 4:8) and did not put 
first things first, to seek after the 
real satisfactions of life. 

Wickedness in the Church be- 
came a "great stumbling-block to 
those who did not belong to the 
church" (Alma 4:10). 

AJma Delivers Up the 

Recognizing this decline in spirit- 
uality and feeling the dire need for 
curbing it, Alma delivered the judg- 
ment-seat to Nephihah according to 

the voice of the people, "and con- 
fined himself wholly to the high 
priesthood of the holy order of God, 
to the testimony of the word, ac- 
cording to the spirit of revelation 
and prophecy .... This he did that 
he himself might go forth among 
his people . . . that he might preach 
the word of God unto them, to stir 
them up in remembrance of their 
duty, and that he might pull down, 
by the word of God, all the pride 
and craftiness and all the conten- 
tions which were among his people, 
seeing no way that he might reclaim 
them save it were in bearing down 
in pure testimony against them" 
(Alma 4:20, 19). 

He preached to them in their 
cities and villages, denouncing their 
iniquities and calling upon them to 
repent. He frequently used the 
rhetorical question as a means of en- 
forcing his ideas. 

Have you sufficiently retained in re- 
membrance the captivity of your fathers? 
. . . were they destroyed? .... What 
grounds had they to hope for salvation? 
.... have ye spiritually been bom of 
God? .... Have ye experienced this 
mighty change in your hearts? Do ye 
exercise faith in the redemption of Inm 
who created you? .... Have ye walked, 
keeping yourselves blameless before God? 
. . . . are ye stripped of pride? .... is 
there one among you who is not stripped 
of envy? (Alma 5:6 ff.). 

He answered all of these ques- 
tions at once by saying: 

Wo unto all ye workers of iniquity; re- 
pent, repent, for the Lord God hath spok- 
en it! ... . Yea, he saith: . . , come unto 
me and bring forth works of righteous- 
ness, and ye shall not be hewn down and 
cast into the fire — For behold, the time is 
at hand that whosoever . . . doeth not the 
works of righteousness, the same have 
cause to wail and mourn (Alma ^-.t^i ft.). 



Alma did more than call people to 
repentance. He gave them his per- 
sonal testimony that Jesus Christ, 
the Only Begotten of the Father, 
should come to earth and atone for 
the sins of every man who would 
repent and believe in him. Infusing 
this testimony into the hearts of his 
people, was the most powerful 
means he had at his command to 
get them to repent and do works 
of righteousness, following the Good 
Shepherd, Jesus Christ. 

Alma Preaches to People in Gideon 
After this beginning to establish 
the order of the Church in Zara- 
hemla (Alma 7:4), and after having 
ordained priests and teachers to pre- 
side and watch over the Church, he 
went to the valley of Gideon to con- 
tinue his reform movement. He 
complimented them on being "in 
the paths of righteousness." He told 
them that the time was not far 
distant when the Redeemer would 
come and live among his people in 
a tabernacle of flesh. He said: 

And behold, he shall be born of Mary, 
at Jerusalem which is the land of our fore- 
fathers, she being a virgin, a precious and 
chosen vessel, who shall be overshadowed 
and conceive by the power of the Holy 
Ghost, and bring forth a son, yea even the 
Son of God (Alma 7:10). 

Alma called upon non-members 
of the Church to cast aside their 
sins. He also warned them that 
God cannot dwell in unholy temples 
and urged them after baptism to 
walk blameless before him. He 

And now I would that ye should be 
humble, and be submissive and gentle; 
easy to be entreated; full of patience and 
long-suflFering; being temperate fn all 
things; being dihgent in keeping the com- 

mandments of God at all times; asking 
for whatsoever things ye stand in need, 
both spiritual and temporal; always re- 
turning thanks unto God for whatsoever 
things ye do receive. And see that ye have 
faith, hope, and charity, and then ye will 
always abound in good works (Alma 

Having established the order of 
the Church in Gideon, as he had 
in Zarahemla, Alma returned to his 
own home to rest. 

Alma Preaches to People oi MeJek 
In the tenth year of the reign of 
the judges, Alma went to the land 
of Melek, west of the river Sidon. 
These people were responsive to his 
message and came to him through- 
out all the land of Melek for bap- 

AJma Journeys to Ammonihah 

When he had finished his work 
at Melek, Alma entered Ammoni- 
hah. These people were wicked, 
and they would not hearken to his 
message. They ''reviled him, and 
spit upon him, and caused that he 
should be cast out of their city," say- 

We know that because we are not of 
thy church we know that thou hast no 
power over us; and thou hast delivered 
up the judgment-seat unto Nephihah; 
therefore thou art not the chief judge over 
us (Alma 8:12). 

Weighed down with sorrow and 
anguish of soul. Alma started for 
the city of Aaron. But he did not 
reach that city, for an angel of the 
Lord appeared to him and said: 

Blessed art thou, Alma; therefore, lift 
up thy head and rejoice, for thou hast 
great cause to rejoice; for thou hast been 
faithful in keeping the commandments of 
God from the time which thou receivedst 
thy first message from him. Behold, I am 



he that delivered it unto you (Alma 

This angel instructed him to re- 
turn to Ammonihah and foretell 
the destruction of the people ex- 
cept they repented. Built up in his 
faith and knowing that God was 
pleased with his work, Alma re- 
turned speedily to the land of Am- 
monihah. As he entered the city, 
hungry and tired,, he met a man 
whom he asked for something to 
eat. This man said to Alma: 

I am a Nephite, and I know that thou 
art a holy prophet of God, for thou art 
the man whom an angel said in a vision: 
Thou shalt receive (Alma 8:20). 

This man, Amulek, became Al- 
ma's missionary companion. To- 
gether they were to preach repent- 
ance to the people of Ammonihah. 

God strengthened them and they 
had power given to them so they 
could not be confined in dungeons 
or slain. 

And it came to pass that they went 
forth and began to preach and to prophesy 
unto the people, according to the spirit 
and power which the Lord had gixen 
them (Alma 8:32). 

Questions for Discussion 

1. Why did Alma consider priestcraft 
dangerous? Discuss priestcraft as set forth 
in Alma 1:3; and 2 Nephi 26:29. 

2. Why was Alma concerned about the 
efforts of Amlici to become king? 

3. How does iniquity in our Church 
serve as a stumbling block to those out- 
side the Church? 

4. How industrious was Alma in the 
service of God? 

5. What can we learn from this lesson 
concerning the solution of our national 

ViSitifig cJeacher 1 1 iessages 

Book of Mormon Gems of Truth 

Lesson 24— '\ . . Seek Not to Counsel the Lord, But to Take Counsel From His 
Hand. For Behold, Ye Yourselves Know That He Counseleth in Wisdom, and 
in Justice, and in Great Mercy, Over All His Works" (Jacob 4:10). 

Leone O. Jacobs 
For Tuesday, May 4, 1954 
Objective: To stress the wisdom of adherence to the counsel of God. 

/^FTEN we attempt to counsel 
the Lord, though perhaps we do 
not reahze we are doing so. We 
tell the Lord what to give us, we 
beseech, plead, almost demand cer- 
tain blessings, or special help from 
difficulties we are in, without re- 
membering that he knows, far bet- 
ter than we, what is best for us. 

In Mosiah (chapter 4, verse 9), 
King Benjamin says: "... man doth 
not comprehend all the things 

which the Lord can comprehend." 
If we are always aware of this fact, 
then, when we petition the Lord for 
blessings and aid, we will say to 
him in substance, ''Heavenly Fa- 
ther, we desire this blessing very 
much, but thou knowest what is 
best for us. We will accept thy 
decision and thy will." 

A young woman was critically in- 
jured in an automobile accident. 
When friends called to express the 



hope that she would recover, her 
father said, ''We are asking our 
Heavenly Father that she recover, 
but we are bowing to his greater 
wisdom to do what is best." 

Our role in seeking divine aid is 
to ask in sincerity and faith for the 
things which we desire and which 
we truly feel would be for our good, 
and then to leave the decision to 
our Fathei in Heaven. Elder Mat- 
thew Cowley has said, ''Let us live 
worthy of the things we pray for, 
and pray for the things we are 
worthy of" (General Conference, 
April 1952). The matter of wor- 
thiness is also to be considered. 

In viewing the marvelous works 
of the Lord, surely we acknowledge 
his supreme power. We recognize 
the order and precision with which 
he governs the forces of the uni- 
verse. How, then, can we doubt 
that he knows the needs of his sons 
and daughters? 

To argue against the Lord's coun- 
sel or to look for excuses for not 
following it, is very unwise. Some 
may say, "I believe I can keep the 

Sabbath day by driving up the can- 
yons amid the beauties of nature 
just as well as by attending meet- 
ings." But the Lord has counseled, 
even commanded, "Thou shalt go 
to the house of prayer and offer up 
thy sacraments upon my holy day" 
(D. & C. 59:9). There should be 
wholehearted acquiescence by his 
children and a great feeling of grati- 
tude for being so instructed. 

To accept counsel from the hand 
of the Lord means also to accept 
the counsel of his authorized rep- 
resentatives. The Lord does not 
come to each one of us personally 
with counsel; but he gives instruc- 
tion through his authorized serv- 
ants. In the Doctrine and Cove- 
nants he tells us: ". . . whether by 
mine own voice or by the voice of 
my servants, it is the same" (D. & 
C. 1:38). 

Willingness to accept counsel 
from recognized authority is not a 
sign of weakness; on the contrary, it 
is a sign of great understanding and 
wisdom. ". . . To obey is better than 
sacrifice, and to hearken than the 
fat of rams" (I Samuel 15:22). 

Work TUeeting—^sm^y Money Management 

(A Course Recommended for Use by Wards and Branches at Work Meeting) 

Lesson 8-Spending Your Health Dollar 

Rhea H. Gardner 

(For Tuesday, May 11, 1954) 

costs are constant. However, health 
and medical costs are uncertain and 
unpredictable. For this reason, the 
cost of ill health is, for most fam- 
ilies, the hardest of all expenditures 
to meet. 
The average family spends about 

^^r^OOD health is something peo- 
pie appreciate most when they 
don't have it." 

Buying good health is not the 
same as spending money for food, 
clothing, and shelter. These needs 
can be budgeted because their 



five per cent of its income for medi- 
cal and dental care. It may claim 
as much as one hundred per cent, 
thus completely upsetting the eco- 
nomic stability of the family, un- 
less a reserve fund has been built up 
for this purpose. 

Money spent wisely for the pres- 
ervation of health pays bigger divi- 
dends than does any other kind of 
investment. In setting up a budget 
for family health, it is well to plan 
for costs relative to the preservation 
of it. Prevention is as a rule cheaper 
than cure. 

Medical care is only one factor 
in keeping the individual and the 
family in a good state of health. The 
best medical service cannot be suc- 
cessful unless the patient has suit- 
able food, good housing, adequate 
recreation, practices simple rules of 
hygiene, and is reasonably free from 
emotional anxieties. Our attitudes 
and practices with respect to these 
things are all important to healthful 

.If all would observe the adage 
''don't let fatigue catch up with 
you," millions of health dollars 
could be saved each year. Often 
those persons who do not have time 
for short rest periods, end up spend- 
ing long periods in complete ''rest," 
either at home or in a hospital. 

Even the best medicine is an ex- 
pensive substitute for good food. 
The most economical places to 
spend your health dollars are at the 
butcher shops, grocery stores, fruit 
and vegetable gardens, rather than 

There is no justification whatever for 
the widespread use of vitamin pills. They 
supply materials that are readily and gen- 
erously available in a well-rounded diet. 

Infants, small children, and persons un- 
able to eat all foods required by the body, 
are exceptions. Their diets may need to 
be supplemented with certain vitamins. 
Act on the advice of your family doctor 
in this regard. 

This is the advice of Dr. Maxwell 
M. Wintrobe, Head of the College 
of Medicine, University of Utah. 

Being prepared for emergencies 
by having a good first-aid book and 
a complete first-aid kit handy has 
saved many families thousands of 
dollars. Regard them as necessities 
in your home and provide a first-aid 
kit suitable to your family's need. 

Life-long illness or even death is 
too often the price paid for neg- 
lect of one kind or another. For 
example, a large percentage of can- 
cer is curable if detected in time, 
and nearly one hundred per cent of 
tuberculosis is curable if treated 

Practices that contribute to one's 
general good health, aid dental 
health, also. It has been estimated 
that at least one-third of all dental 
troubles could be prevented if we 
would brush the teeth correctly at 
least twice each day, preferably after 
each meal, eat the right foods, and 
have a dental checkup every six 

Make special effort each day to 
include in the diet some raw or 
crisp food, such as lettuce, celery, 
carrots, cabbage, fruits, hard toast, 
or bread crusts. They cost less than 
do dental bills that are likely to re- 
sult, if these foods are not eaten. 
"All persons would benefit from the 
standpoint of general health and 
especially dental health by keeping 
the consumption of confections and 
sweetened beverages to a mini- 
mum," advises the Council on Den- 



tal Health of the American Dental 

Regardless of what one does to 
safeguard health, medical assistance 
is needed sooner or later by most 
of us. Membership in a reliable 
health insurance plan will help meet 
expenses that might otherwise place 
a severe hardship on the family 
purse. Prepayment is usually less 
costly and easier to bear than post- 
payment. In considering such a 
plan make sure you understand all 
the provisions in the policy. 

Do you know how much the seda- 
tives and pain killers you bought 
last year cost you? Chances are, 
more than was necessary, if you let 
advertised brands influence your 
choice. The same product may cost 
four or five times more under a 
widely advertised name than one 
less known. So long as USP or 
NF appears on the label you aie 
assured of a safe product. 

It has been estimated that more 
than four hundred million dollars 
is spent annually by Americans for 
patent medicines. Some of this huge 
sum is spent on drug products that 
are dangerous to health, or virtually 
worthless for the ailment treated. 
Some of these cure-alls contain a 
coal-tar derivative that, say medical 
atithoritiejS, can seriously affect the 

heart. Furthermore, since pain is 
considered a warning, and if only 
pain is relieved, a disease may go 
undetected until a cure is extremely 
costly, if not impossible. At best, 
patients get a harmless pill that does 
nothing to relieve the basic cause 
of ill health. The pocketbook is 
relieved, instead. 

Truly wise parents will not bar- 
gain with health. They and their 
children will practice simple rules 
of hygiene and good health each 
day. They will select a doctor from 
among the well-qualified physicians 
and rely on him for medical advice 
and assistance. If specialized treat- 
ment becomes necessary, on the ad- 
vice of the family doctor, they will 
consult a specialist. Self-diagnosis 
and self-treatment are dangerous. 

Health protection pays, but far 
sweeter than the jingling of money 
saved, or more money earned be- 
cause of the absence of illness, is 
the fact that by protecting our 
health we can enjoy more years of 
life, liberty, and the pursuit of hap- 

Thoughts foi Discussion 

1 . Is it easier to get people to fight 
disease than to work for health? 

2. Our present food supply is the safest 
and most nutritious in history, yet never 
before has so much been spent for diet 

Louise Morn's Kdley 

All sublimated prayers begun 

And charitable actions done 

By a God-seeking populace 

Will, as distilled, pure dewdrops, rise 

To unseen reaches of the skies, 

Forming a soul-cloud cumulus, 

From which, should there be want or pain, 

God's blessings may pour down as rain. 

JLiterature — The Literature of England 

Lesson 40-Charlotte Bronte (1816-1855) 

Elder Briant S. Jacobs 

(Text: Jane Eyre, Modern Library Edition) 

For Tuesday, May 18, 1954 

Objective: To enter more fully into the imaginative reality of Jane Eyre, that the 
significance of this work in the history of the English novel might be better under- 

npHE three Bronte sisters created 
their art out of a most barren, 
uneventful actuality. Anne's novels 
are at least competent; Jane Eyre, 
(pronounced 'air") written by 
Charlotte, the oldest of the three, 
remains after 106 years a great and 
powerful novel; Emily's Wutheiing 
Heights, though slower to gain pop- 
ularity, today is considered one of 
the great books in the language. 
And the greatness of their ac- 
complishment lies not at all in 
their restating apparent fact. 

Just as in all enduring art, the 
Bronte sisters' writing pierces far 
beneath the surface of facts and 
creates the universal imaginative 
reality. Shakespeare's Hamlet has 
a greater reality in the imaginations 
of men than any factual Hamlet 
could ever enjoy. Similarly, the 
fictional Jane Eyre is immortal; she 
exists, a great imaginative creation, 
and one which might better help 
us know ourselves and our fellows. 

Life Sketch 

Her creator, Charlotte Bronte, 
was born in 1816, the third of six 
children. She was reared in the 
Haworth parsonage far out on the 
lonely, bleak moors of Yorkshire, 
the graveyard immediately on one 
side of the house, the moor on the 
other. Her parents, Patrick and 
Page 132 

Maria Bronte, were Irish. Both had 
a zest for writing. 

When Mrs. Bronte died in 1821, 
Charlotte was five. At once Rev- 
erend Bronte invited Elizabeth 
Branwell, his wife's sister, to come 
to Haworth parsonage and rear his 
children. She came, and cared for 
the children in a mechanical way, 
but she took her meals alone, and 
gave the children little love or at- 

Patrick, the father, was himself 
something of an eccentric. He spent 
most of his time alone in his study 
writing poetry and reading widely. 

Thus the Bronte children had 
most of their time to themselves to 
wander about the lonely moor, to 
read and play. Though their home 
was isolated, it was not an unhappy 
home. The children fulfilled their 
own intense emotional and imagina- 
tive needs as best they could. 

When Charlotte was eight, the 
four oldest girls were sent to a 
school for clergymen's daughters 
where they were most unhappy. Be- 
fore the year ended all came home. 
The two sisters older than Charlotte 
died of tuberculosis shortly after re- 
turning home. It was not long 
afterward that Charlotte, now the 
leader of the children, began writ- 
ing imaginary sketches about a set 
of soldiers given her brother Bran- 



well. These stories, written by 
near-sighted Charlotte in a script so 
small that it can be read with ease 
only with a magnifying glass, were 
as exciting as they were voluminous. 
In the fifteen months before she 
was fifteen, Charlotte wrote twenty- 
three ''novels" or episodes portray- 
ing a mythical kingdom which she 
called Angria. Most of the main 
characters and many plots and 
events of her mature writings first 
appeared in these childhood crea- 

After attending Miss Wooler's 
school, the Bronte sisters acted as 
governesses, of which they quickly 
tired. Aspiring to open their own 
school, they attended Mr. Heger's 
school in Brussels to improve their 
skill in language. When they were 
called home at the death of their 
aunt, only Charlotte returned to 
Brussels for another year. 

When she came back to Haworth, 
she advertised for pupils, but none 
came. In 1845 the three sisters dis- 
covered that each had been writing 
poetry in secret, so at their own ex- 
pense they published their poetry, 
signing it Currer (Charlotte), Ellis 
(Emily), and Acton (Anne) Bell. 
Only two copies were sold, but they 
had experienced the thrill of seeing 
their work in print. 

At once each sister began writing 
a novel, Charlotte writing The Pio- 
iessoT, unpublished until after her 
death. When it was sympathetical- 
ly declined by a publisher, she was 
so encouraged that she began Jane 
Eyre. In August 1847, almost a year 
later, it was completed, and the 
publisher's reader was so enthralled 
by her manuscript that he sat up 
ail night reading it. Published in 

October, Jane Eyre was a best seller 
by Christmas, and Charlotte was 
immediately famous. She went to 
London, met the great literary fig- 
ures, then returned home to care 
for her nearly blind father. Soon 
her debauched brother Branwell 
died, followed within a few months 
by both Emily and Anne, victims of 
tuberculosis. She wrote two other 
novels, Shiiley and ViJJette. In 1854 
she accepted her fourth proposal of 
marriage, but within the year she 
died in childbirth, age thirty-nine. 

Plot of Jane Eyre 

Naturally Charlotte is the heroine 
of Jane Eyre, and many incidents 
parallel those of her own life. 

The novel begins with Jane, a 
ten-year-old orphan, hated and mis- 
treated in the home of her aunt, 
Mrs. Reed, who finally becomes 
desperate and sends Jane to a semi- 
charitable school for girls where 
living conditions are frighteningly 
inhumane. After eight years at the 
school, Jane leaves to act as gov- 
ernness at Thornfield Hall, owned 
by fierce, disillusioned Mr. Roches- 
ter, much older than Jane. Through 
a series of spirited conversations 
they fall in love and plan to marry, 
but at the church it is revealed that 
Rochester is already married, having 
concealed his maniac wife for more 
than a decade in the attic of Thorn- 
field Hall. 

Despite her intense love for 
Rochester, Jane leaves him im- 
mediately and, destitute, she is tak- 
en in by young Reverend St. John 
Rivers and his two sisters. They are 
friends at once, and St. John, hav- 
ing dedicated his future to a mis- 
sion in India, persuades Jane so 



convincingly to enter into a loveless 
marriage with him that she is almost 
ready to yield, w^hen, mysteriously, 
she hears Rochester calling her 
name. She rushes back to Thorn- 
field to find it in ruins, burned by 
Rochester's mad wife. Nearby she 
finds Rochester blind and maimed. 
Jane marries him. In time his sight 
returns and he acknowledges that 
God has tempered judgment with 
mercy when he is enabled to see his 

Significance oi Jane Eyre 

In tone, point of view, intensity, 
and purpose, Charlotte Bronte 
soared beyond and above earlier 
practices in English fiction. While 
earlier English novels recorded what 
the heroine said and did, Charlotte 
Bronte tells vividly what and how 
the heroine felt deep within. Pre- 
viously, fiction had been presented 
from the point of view of society, 
or the group; it is significant that 
Jane Eyre's world of reality can be 
communicated to the reader only 
by telling what happens within one 
individual. Without reserve, Jane 
shares her secret impulses, her 
hopes, and fears with the reader. 
This Miss Bronte does so well that 
the reader cannot help but live 
again the intensities of Jane's own 
life as they are poured onto the 
page. Thus the subject matter of 
Jane Eyre remains as universal as its 
appeal is enduring. 

Style and Mood 

From the first sentence, 'There 
was no possibility of taking a walk 
that day. We had been wander- 
ing, indeed, in the leafless shrub- 
bery an hour . . ." to the conclud- 
ing chapter beginning, ''Reader, I 


A Perry Picture 


married him," we are, save for cer- 
tain imperfect minor passages, com- 
pletely within Charlotte Bronte's 
realm of intense, imaginative re- 

Everything reveals Jane to us. For 
example, Miss Bronte utilizes de- 
scriptions of environment to create 
a corresponding mood within Jane. 
At the very beginning of the novel, 
when, depressed and unloved as a 
child, Jane reads in books of ''the 
haunts of sea-fowl; of the solitary 
rocks and promontories by them 
only inhabited" (page 4, Modern 
Library Edition); at her left were 
"clear panes of glass, protecting, but 
not separating me from the drear 
November day." 

After the evil winter of typhoid, 
cold, and starvation at Lowood 
School, Jane embodies her own 
sense of release in her description 
of the grounds: 

And now vegetation matured with 
vigour; Lowood shook loose its tresses; it 



became all green, all flowery; its great elm, 
ash, and oak skeletons were restored to 
majestic life . . . (page 79). 

The restoration of nature's skele- 
tons to life symbolizes the restora- 
tion of the almost dead human 
skeletons within the school who 
now bloomed with nature. 

Just as Jane's hopes rose at the 
prospect of a new life at Thornfield 
Hall, so the rising moon which first 
revealed Rochester to her was 

. . . pale yet as a cloud, but brightening 
momently: [from the nearby town] in the 
absolute hush I could hear plainly its thin 
murmurs of life. My ear too felt the 
flow of currents; in what dales and depths 
I could not tell. . . . That evening calm 
betrayed ahke the tinkle of the nearest 
streams, the sough of the most remote 
(page 119). 

Even so, Jane herself was pale but 
brightening; within herself were 
deep currents, as well as the tinkle 
of streams near and distant. How 
better could she create a mood than 
by letting nature mirror her own? 

Miss Bronte uses the same device 
to characterize Rochester when, 
months later, he meets Jane in the 
garden for one of their brilliant 
conversations. Intoxicated by Jane's 
courage, sharp mind, and quick wit, 
he contemplates the view of Thorn- 
field Hall: 

I like this day: I like that sky of steel; 
I like the sternness and stillness of the 
world under this frost. I like Thornfield; 
its antiquity ... its grey facade, and Hnes 
of dark windows reflecting that metal 
welkin: and yet how long have I abhorred 
the very thought of it; shunned it like a 
great plague-house . . . (page 152). 

To the scene he imparts his own 
mood and qualities; even as his 
character is one of steel hardness, so 
does he admire the still, stern quali- 
ties of steelness about him; the dark 

windows of Thornfield, themselves 
symbolizing the remorse and despair 
he had known within its walls. 

Miss Bronte employs this de- 
vice constantly. For example, 
Jane's description of her welcome 
back to Thornfield after she had at- 
tended her aunt's funeral services 
tells the great need within Jane 
for human love and affection. When 
Jane is welcomed with smiles and 
enthusiasm by her fellow employ- 
ees, she comments that 'There is 
no happiness like that of being 
loved by your fellow creatures, and 
feeling that your presence is an ad- 
dition of their comfort" (page 266). 
She then tells how, sitting together 
with her friends in the warm kitch- 
en, "a sense of mutual affection 
seemed to surround us with a ring 
of golden peace" (page 266). In 
this same blissful mood she begins 
the next chapter: '\ . . It was as if 
a band of Italian days had come 
from the South, like a flock of glori- 
ous passenger birds" (page 267). 

The most important symbol in 
the novel is the magnificent chest- 
nut tree at Thornfield, split in two 
by a violent storm the night after 
Jane agrees to marry Rochester. 
This tearing asunder of the most 
stalwart, ageless object at Thorn- 
field predicts not only the cleavage 
between the present Rochester and 
the one soon to be revealed, but it 
also represents two temptations 
within Jane, both of which she over- 
comes. The first temptation, is to 
give herself headlong to Rochester 
and run away in defiance of all self- 
respect and moral law, and the sec- 
ond, is to deny completely her need 
for a shared, creative love, and mar- 
ry St. John Rivers, the cold, ambi- 



tious missionary who is so intent on 
other worldly values that he disre- 
gards, even kills the spirit of Jane 
and others near him. 

The power of Miss Bronte's style 
is best revealed in the conversations 
between Jane and Rochester, but 
these are too long to quote here. 
Impassioned, fiery, terse, subtle, 
these interchanges not only reveal 
to each participant the formidable 
powers and character of the other; 
these communions of intellect and 
spirit also make possible the mutual 
respect which rapidly grows into a 
consuming, mature love. 


Charlotte Bronte (and therefore 
Jane Eyre) rebelled against living 
the anonymous life of the average 
Victorian woman— sedentary, pas- 
sive, inconsequential — surrounded 
by the dominance and creative vigor 
of a masculine world. Quite justly 
Jane Eyre has been defined as one 
of the first modern women. Rather 
than bow to the conventional view 
that women are somehow a lesser 
species of humanity, Jane demands 
the right to be a free, mature per- 
son, to own her soul and to be al- 
lowed to express her entire person- 
ality and integrity in her life-quest 
for self-realization. For Jane the 
kernel of life is human love, but 
true love and understanding can en- 
dure only when the individuality 
and integrity of both partners is 
not only recognized, but encouraged 
to fullest growth within the mar- 
riage relationship. 

The novel tells how the maturing 
Jane Eyre succeeds in freeing her- 
self from ''a conventionality which 
is not morality'' and a "self-right- 

eousness which is not religion." 
Her indomitable spirit rises above 
the hatred and jealousy of Mrs. 
Reed, the bigoted hypocrisy of 
Reverend Brocklehurst, the me- 
diocre dullness of Mrs. Fairfax, the 
affected snobbery of the Ingrams, 
the withering religious zeal of Eliza, 
the shallow selfishness of Georgiana, 
and the ascetic denial of self and 
human affection in the Reverend St. 
John Rivers. 

Jane's supreme test comes when, 
finally, she learns that her love for 
Rochester is returned, but that she 
must leave him at once. Earlier, 
disguised as a gypsy, Rochester had 
shrewdly and accurately defined her 
character as one who says: 

I can live alone, if self-respect and cir- 
cumstances require me so to do. I need 
not sell my soul to buy bliss. I have an 
inward treasure, born with me, which 
can keep me alive if all extraneous de- 
lights should be withheld .... Reason 
sits firm and holds the reins, and she will 
not let the feelings burst away and hurry 
her to wild chasms .... (pp. 216-217). 

In this hour of trial, when almost 
maddened by the thought of losing 
her, Rochester begs Jane to run 
away with him to France, he asks 
her, "Who in the world cares for 
you.^ or who will be injured by what 
you do?" 

Jane replies: 

I care for myself. The more solitary, 
the more friendless, the more unsustained 
I am, the more I will respect myself. I 
will keep the law given by God; sanctioned 
by man .... Laws and principles are 
not for the times when there is no tempta- 
tion: they are for such moments as this, 
when body and soul rise in mutiny against 
their rigour; stringent are they; inviolate 
they shall be ... . Preconceived opinions, 
foregone determinations, are all I have at 
this hour to stand by: there I plant my 
foot (page 344). 



Realizing the firmness of her re- 
solve, Rochester confesses defeat be- 
fore this ''resolute, wild, free thing 
defying me, with more than cour- 
age — with a stern triumph" (page 


And thus Jane, at the period of 

most tense emotional strain, main- 
tains her spiritual and moral integ- 
rity. When finally she does come 
to the invalid Rochester to offer 
herself as his future wife and com- 
panion, she can offer a complete, 
whole woman, not a physical entity 
only, or one soul-scarred by remorse 
—remorse which had so nearly de- 
stroyed the soul of her beloved 
Rochester before she restored him. 
Throughout, Jane Eyre is pitched 
in a higher key than many novels. 

Its intensity seldom lessens; its pow- 
er comes from the moral and emo- 
tional struggles within, rather than 
between, characters. The imaginary 
reality created within its pages is 
enduring, since the values upon 
which it is built are those of cour- 
age, individual freedom, integrity, 
and love. Indeed Jane Eyre is a 
great experience. 

Questions for Discussion 

1. Which characteristic of Jane Eyre is 
most appeahng to you? Discuss. 

2. Why is a knowledge of Charlotte 
Bronte's personal life so vital a preliminary 
to reading Jane Eyre.^ 

3. What is Miss Bronte's great con- 
tribution to English fiction? 

4. Discuss the justice of calling Jane 
Evre "the first modern woman." 

Social Science — The Constitution 
of the United States 

Lesson 7— The Great Compromises of the Constitution 
and the Fight for Ratification 

Elder Albert R. Bowen 

For Tuesday, May 25, 1954 

Objective: To become familiar with the great issues of the Constitutional Con- 
vention and how those issues were compromised, and to observe the devices used to 
create "checks and balances" as a means of protecting the fundamental freedom of 
the individual. Also to point out that the Constitution was one of the most thorough- 
ly studied and debated documents ever presented to a nation for adoption. 

New Framework of Government 
OEFERENCE has already been 
made to the fact that the Con- 
stitutional Convention, held at Phil- 
adelphia, was called for the osten- 
sible purpose of revising and 
strengthening the Articles of Con- 
federation. This was the recom- 
mendation of the Annapolis Con- 
vention (see lesson 5) in addressing 
Congress with a petition to call 

such a convention. In the minds 
of many of the delegates, ideas had 
been germinating for a long time 
regarding concrete steps which 
would have to be taken to remake 
the National Government. 

James Madison was the leader in 
this regard. He was twenty years 
younger than Washington, but en- 
joyed the support and friendship of 



that great man. Madison was a stu- 
dent of government and had had 
many years of experience in govern- 
ment in his native State of Virginia. 
He it was who was to prove to be 
chief architect of the Constitution. 
Madison and his friends came to 
the Convention determined to do 
anything necessary to draft a frame- 
work of government which would 
be workable. Furthermore, they 
came prepared to offer a plan to the 

The debates upon the so-called 
Virginia resolutions very soon made 
it apparent that much more than a 
revision of the existing government 
was required, and the delegates be- 
gan the consideration of forming a 
new government. Gone forever 
was any idea of revision of the 
Articles of Confederation. 

Three Basic Difieiences 

All of the delegates subscribed to 
the view that a stronger national 
union should be set up. The ques- 
tion was the manner and the form 
in which this should be accom- 
plished. There were three basic dif- 
ficulties which had to be overcome 
and finally compromised. The Rist 
was the fear of the smaller states of 
being swallowed up and submerged 
by the larger, more powerful states. 
The second involved the matter of 
slavery, and the thiidy fear of na- 
tional taxing power. 

Question of Representation 

The questions of national repre- 
sentation and taxing power were, by 
far, the most troublesome of the 
three. The larger and more power- 
ful states, such as Massachusetts, 
Pennsylvania, and Virginia, were 
staunch advocates in favor of a 

strong national government which 
would have veto power over the 
laws of the individual states where 
state laws should be in conflict with 
laws passed by Congress. They also 
wanted representation in Congress 
determined on the basis of popula- 

On the other hand, the small 
states wanted to be protected from 
the power of the large states, whose 
representatives in Congress would 
be able to out-vote them on any 
basis of proportional representation. 

It should be remembered that 
under the Confederation the states 
had equal voting power in Congress. 
The problem was how to reconcile 
the principle of representation in 
that body. The small states were 
fearful that the large states would 
always dominate the national gov- 
ernment and thus exclude them 
for all practical purposes, from any 
voice therein. This conflict of in- 
terest between the states was the 
greatest obstacle of all. Each side 
stated its unalterable determination 
never to yield. 

The Connecticut Compiomise 

Nevertheless, this great difficulty 
was solved by the device known as 
the Connecticut Compromise. Un- 
der the Connecticut plan, which 
was finally adopted, the legislative 
branch was divided into two houses. 
The lower house composed of pop- 
ular representatives elected upon 
the basis of population was to origi- 
nate all revenue bills. On the oth- 
er hand, the small states were to 
have equal representation in the up- 
per house, or Senate, which was to 
be chosen by the legislatures of each 



It was agreed that the Senate 
should have the power to propose 
amendments to the revenue bills, 
even though it could not originate 
them. The smaller states were mol- 
lified because the principal of equal 
representation had been preserved 
in the Senate, in which place they 
would be able to make their voices 
heard on all national issues. By 
conceding equal representation to 
the small states in the Senate, the 
larger states were given a consider- 
able degree of control and voice in 
the matter of raising revenues, 
which would naturally fall more 
heavily upon them, because taxes, 
like representation in the House of 
Representatives, would be based up- 
on population. The solution of this 
great problem required, by far, the 
most time consumed in drafting the 
Constitution. Once it was solved 
and agreed upon, a solid foundation 
for agreement on all other questions 
in dispute was laid, and upon this 
great compromise the success of the 
Convention became solidly assured. 

Piohlems Presented hy Shveiy 

On the issue of slavery, of course, 
the dispute was between the slave- 
holding and non - slave - holding 
states. This dispute did not con- 
cern the abolition of slavery, as 
some have erroneously supposed. As 
a matter of fact, slavery had become 
a well-accepted social institution in 
America. There was, of course, 
some sentiment against it, but not 
to the point of becoming a move- 
ment which threatened its exist- 
ence. In general, the non-slave- 
holding states were, in principle, 
against any further importation of 
slaves. Maryland and Virginia were 

not greatly concerned about having 
the slave population increased be- 
cause they were well supplied. In 
the Carolinas and Georgia, however, 
the need for slaves had not been 
satisfied, and these states were anx- 
ious to have the trade continue. 

The next serious issue related to 
slavery was on the question of 
whether the slaves should be count- 
ed as part of the population in de- 
termining the matter of representa- 
tion in Congress. The decision 
having already been made that pop- 
ulation should determine represen- 
tation in the House of Representa- 
tives, how then should these slaves 
be regarded? Should they be count- 
ed as property or as persons? The 
slave-holding states, in addition to 
not wanting the importation of 
slaves interfered with, wanted the 
slaves to be enumerated as part of 
the population for determining rep- 
resentation in the lower house of 
Congress. This issue was finally 
compromised by including three- 
fifths of the slaves ('The ratio rec- 
ommended by Congress in their 
resolutions of April 18, 1783," Far- 
rand, The Fathers of the Constitu- 
tion, page 122) for determining the 
basis for congressional representa- 
tion, and by specifically providing 
that the importation of slaves into 
the United States would not be in- 
terfered with for twenty years. 

The non-slave-holding states were 
the ones in which most of the com- 
mercial and manufacturing interests 
were concentrated. They wanted the 
National Government to exercise 
broad powers over commerce be- 
tween the states and foreign coun- 
tries and to control navigation. 
Massachusetts and New York had 



already developed substantial ship- 
ping interests and American ships, 
mainly from these states, were 
already to be found on every ocean. 
If the maritime states could have 
their way, the National Govern- 
ment would be given powers which 
would foster and develop this grow- 
ing and flourishing trade. 

In exchange for the concession to 
the slave-holding states on slavery, 
they, in turn, agreed to the granting 
of broad power to the National 
Government over commerce and 

Question oi National Taxing Power 

The third great matter for con- 
stitutional debate was the national 
taxing power. This debate also end- 
ed in a compromise. The delegates 
divided generally according to their 
sectional interests and also accord- 
ing to the character of their par- 
ticular economies. States with a di- 
versified economy wanted the na- 
tional government to raise revenues 
by taxing the export and import of 
goods. The states in which the 
economy was based upon the rais- 
ing of a single crop, or perhaps two 
or three crops of agricultural prod- 
ucts, were fearful of any power in 
the hands of the National Govern- 
ment which would permit the tax- 
ation of exports. 

The Southern States were largely 
agricultural, one-crop states, natural- 
ly fearful of any taxes which might 
be levied upon the export in foreign 
trade of the principal source of 
their wealth. An economy based 
upon such a narrow base as cotton 
or tobacco could be easily bankrupt- 
ed and ruined by an excessive export 

tax. It was finally agreed that Con- 
gress should have power to tax im- 
ports, but taxes on exports were ex- 
pressly forbidden. 

Executive Department 

There were many other questions 
debated in the Convention upon 
which time could be spent to em- 
phasize the monumental task which 
the Constitutional Convention as- 
sumed in framing the Constitution. 
One of the most interesting ques- 
tions was that of the executive. 
When the Convention opened, the 
delegates had no clear idea of the 
kind of executive they would set up. 
They hit upon the unique device 
of the presidency. This was certain- 
ly an innovation in government. 
The office was unknown in the 
world. There had never been a 
chief of state with such a title. At 
first a multiple executive was de- 
bated, but this idea was finally dis- 
carded in favor of the single head of 
the state. The executive was given 
no power to make laws, only to ex- 
ecute or carry them out. He was 
given power to veto legislation 
passed by Congress, but his veto 
could be overridden by a two-thirds 
majority in both houses of Con- 
gress. It was also provided that a 
president could be removed by im- 
peachment. He was given power 
in foreign affairs to negotiate trea- 
ties which would be ratified with 
the advice and consent of two-thirds 
of the senators present voting to 
ratify. He could also appoint judg- 
es and ambassadors. The appoint- 
ment of judges was to be for life 
during good behavior, so while the 
president could name the judges, 
he was powerless to remove them. 



Judicial Department 

The Constitution made provision 
for a judiciary consisting of a Su- 
preme Court and such inferior 
courts as Congress should create. 
The legislative branch, therefore, 
could provide for courts and judges 
and fix their salaries. The appoint- 
ments of judges would, however, be 
made by the executive with the con- 
currence of the Senate. Once 
named, salaries of judges at the time 
of their appointment could not be 
cut off or decreased in their amount, 
and finally, they could only be re- 
moved by the process of impeach- 
ment. The judicial system set up 
mider the Constitution was to have 
far-reaching effects upon the Ameri- 
can Government. It was not gen- 
erally realized at the time that the 
courts would exercise any veto pow- 
er over the President or Congress. 
However, that is exactly the way in 
which the judicial system has 
worked, because the courts may de- 
clare the acts of Congress uncon- 
stitutional and void, and may re- 
strain the executive from arbitrary 
or unlawful exercise of power over 
the people. 

Government of "Checks and 

There were naturally many other 
problems which had to be resolved, 
for instance, the terms of office of 
the members of Congress, the term 
of office of the President, the ad- 
mission of new states into the 
Union, and the machinery of 
amendment and many other neces- 
sary parts of the governmental ma- 
chinery which had to be devised. 
The result was to make the United 
States a government of the people. 


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with ''checks and balances" to in- 
sure that no one branch of the gov- 
ernment would dominate the other 
two. The states could not be 
coerced by the Federal Government, 
but the people of the states were 
made subject to its laws. Thus, the 
people of the United States live 
under a dual system— the state gov- 
ernment and the Federal— and are 
subject to the laws of both. 

Signing oi Constitution 

Because some of the delegates re- 
fused to sign the Constitution, 
Gouverneur Morris devised a form 
which would give the Constitution 
the appearance of being unanimous- 
ly adopted. This was accomplished 
by writing at the very end. ''Done 
in convention by the unanimous 
consent of the states present." In 
order to overcome any appearance 
of departure from authority given 
to the convention, which had been 
instructed to revise the Articles of 
Confederation, the convention rec- 
ommended to Congress that the 
Constitution be submitted to con- 
ventions of delegates chosen in each 
state by the people thereof. This 
was for accomplishing the indirect 
ratification of the Constitution by 
the people. It was not known if a 
sufficient number of the state legis- 
latures could be prevailed upon to 
accept the Constitution, and there- 
fore the opening phrase of the Con- 
stitution, was made to read: "We, 
the people of the United States." 

Ratification by States 

The Second Continental Con- 
gress accepted the original draft 
submitted by the Constitutional 
Convention without much enthus- 

iasm, and submitted it to the states 
for ratification without one word of 
approval or disapproval. The Con- 
stitution was to go into effect when 
ratified by nine states. 

The contest over adoption was to 
prove long and difficult. Delaware 
acted first and ratified December 7, 

1787. Pennsylvania ratified next 
on December 12, 1787; New Jersey, 
December 18, 1787; Georgia, Janu- 
ary 2, 1788; Connecticut, January 
9, 1788; Massachusetts, February 6, 
1788; Maryland, April 26, 1788; 
South Carolina, May 28, 1788; New 
Hampshire, June 21, 1788. In Dela- 
ware, Georgia, and New Jersey, rati- 
fication was unanimous. In Con- 
necticut, Pennsylvania, Maryland, 
and South Carolina, ratification was 
by a good majority of the conven- 
tion delegates, and in Massachusetts 
and New Hampshire, by slim ma- 
jorities. Nine states had now rati- 
fied, but Virginia and New York 
had not acted. Without these two 
very important states, the Union 
could not hope to be a success. 
Finally, after a long and hotly con- 
tested fight, Virginia ratified on 
June 25, 1788. This left New York, 
North Carolina, and Rhode Island 
still stubbornly outside the Union. 

In New York, under the brilliant 
leadership of Alexander Hamilton, 
ratification was achieved on July 26, 

1788. The Constitution did not 
provide the kind of government 
which Hamilton would have pre- 
ferred. He was by nature an aristo- 
crat. But he set aside his own 
personal views and worked tirelessly 
for ratification. It was under his 
superb leadership that those essays 
on the Constitution, which have 
come to be known as The Federal- 



isty were published. Fifty of them 
were written by Hamilton, thirty by 
Madison, and about five by Jay. 
These essays are regarded to this 
day as the most important commen- 
tary on the Constitution ever writ- 
ten, and they likewise comprise 
what is looked upon as one of 
America's greatest books. 

After Congress passed a revenue 
act making importation of goods 
from Rhode Island and North Caro- 
lina taxable. North Carolina ratified 
in haste on November 21, 1789. 
Rhode Island finally capitulated on 
May 29, 1790. 

It must be stated that ratification 
could never have become complet- 
ed in such states as Virginia and 
Massachusetts without the assur- 
ance that certain amendments 
would be added to the Constitution 
as guaranties to individual liberty. 
Nearly all of the state constitutions 
had ''bills of rights" appended to or 
as a part of them. They were state- 
ments of principle going back to 
the days of Magna Charta and the 
English Bill of Rights, which were 
so precious in the eyes of liberty- 
loving Americans. They had been 
the principles fought for in the 
Revolution. Who is to say that the 
delay over ratification was not a 
beneficent act of Providence to in- 
sure that those precious freedoms 
would receive recognition and be- 
come a part of our great charter of 
liberty, known as the Bill of Rights, 
the first ten amendments to the 

Election oi Washington 
as First President 

The Union was now complete 
under the ''new roof." In the fall of 


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1788 the Congress of the Confed- 
eration made preparations to go out 
of existence by voting for presiden- 
tial electors to be chosen by election 
in January 1789, and by making 
New York the seat of the new gov- 
ernment until other arrangements 
could be made. The elections were 
held. Washington was elected and 
installed in office. He it was who 
was the obvious choice of all. Even 
during the debates in the Conven- 
tion, and in conversation, indica- 
tions to this effect were apparent. 
When he became president, Wash- 
ington is said to have expressed 
preference for this title: ''His High 
Mightiness, the President of the 
United States and Protector of their 

The inauguration of Washington 
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Farrand, Max: The Fathers of the Con- 
stitution, Yale University Press, 1921. 

Smith, Joseph Fielding: The Piogiess 
oi Man, pp. 295-299. 

Questions for Discussion 

1. What were the great compromises 
of the Constitution? 

2. What three branches of government 
are provided for under the Constitution? 

3. Describe briefly how the "checks 
and balances" of the American Constitu- 
tion operate to prevent one branch of the 
government from dominating the other 
branches of government. 

4. Describe the manner in which the 
Constitution was presented by the Con- 
vention to Congress and the people, and 
by whom it was ratified. 

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cJhe [Retief Societi/ — Jr it^orid-Vlyiae Sisterhood 

Phyllis Hodgson Holbiook 

In every far-flung border land 
Where women work and pray 
And strive to solve the problems of 
A troubled v/orld today, 
A new and everlasting hope 
Is borne to each who heeds; 
A wondrous plan transcends all time 
And solves our human needs; 
And then the hand of sisterhood 
Extends through time and space 
To carry love and help and faith 
Within its wide embrace. 

A universal sisterhood, 

Divinely shaped and planned, 

Installed on earth to function, by 

A mighty Prophet's hand; 

To glorify the dignity 

By labor and by worth 

Of womanhood and motherhood. 

And woman's place on earth. 

For, though she only shares the grace 

The Priesthood's gifts afford, 

A woman was the first to see 

The resurrected Lord! 

As brooklets spread the river's breadth. 

As rivers join the sea, 

So every land contributes to 

The great Society. 

The Cover: 'The Singing Sands of Alamosa, Colorado, at the base of the Sangre 

de Cristo Mountains 
Photograph by Josef Muench 
Frontispiece: Pussywillows and Plum Blossoms 

Photograph by Don Knight 
Cover Design by Evan Jensen 

CJrom I Lear and CJar 

I wish 1 could convey to each of you 
how much the Magazine means to our 
small group here. We are all growing 
from the messages and inspiration we re 
ceive when reading of our sisters in the 
Church and their activities. 
— Mayona Grinder 

Kindley Air Force Base 

It is wonderful that you are making it 
possible for us to have the privilege of 
finding the names of our loved ones in 
The Relief Society Magazine. In looking 
through the birthday section of the Wom- 
an's Sphere department, I became so 
thrilled to see the name of a woman who 
was my nearest neighbor when we were 
children together. Now, I am wondering 
if she would get the same thrill as I did 
when she sees my name there. How love- 
ly the contents of the December Maga- 

— Mrs. Clara T. Samuels 
449 West Broadmoor 
San Leandro, California 

What wonderful things I found in the 
October 1953 issue of The Relief Society 
Magazine. "Portraits of the Signers of the 
Constitution of the United States" is one 
of the most interesting and educational 
articles I have read in a long time. I also 
enjoyed "The Boyhood of President 
McKay." All of the poems and stories 
were interesting, but I especially liked 
"Grandpa As a Magician" by Mable Law 
Atkinson, Sister Atkinson is a gifted, ver- 
satile writer. I always enjoy everything 
she writes. 

— Sylvia Probst Young 
Midvale, Utah 

Please extend my congratulations to 
Lizabeth Wall Madsen for having written 
the beautiful lines ("Wings Over the 
West") which won the first prize in the 
Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest. There is 
not a line of Mrs. Madsen's poem that 
lacks poetic essence in my estimation. 
— Grace I. Frost 

Provo, Utah 

May I say a few words concerning the 
joy and inspiration The Relief Society 
Magazine brings to all Latter-day Saint 
women who live in the mission fields — 
particularly those, who, like myself, find 
themselves living in places where organ- 
ized Relief Societies do not exist. A note 
of thanks for the small, newly organized 
Sunday School we have here. 

— Mildred Garrett Enos 
Chillicothe, Ohio 

The Magazine continues to be excellent 
in every way. I have most thoroughly en- 
joyed Mrs. Morrell's articles on the life of 
President McKay (September, October, 
November, and December 1953). 
— Mabel Jones Gabbott 
Bountiful, Utah 

We think The Relief Society Magn/jnc 
is the best magazine anywhere, and it is 
getting better all the time. 

— Mrs. Margaret A. Anderson 

— and Mrs. lone J. Anderson 

Richmond, Utah 

On the eve of our lesson tomorrow on 
David CoppeiReld, I am brimming with 
anticipation to hear Sister Mabel Preston 
give it, and I trust no member misses it. 
for Briant S. Jacobs has portrayed it as 
Dickens would smile his approval. When 
I had read the usual amount of the les- 
sons, and turned the page and saw two 
full pages more, I said, "What a feast!" 
And I have really laughed and heartily 
approved every word. I trust no Relief 
Society woman fails to read it herself. I 
had forgotten much I had read years ago. 
I wish we could love the good qualities in 
people, all people, and not rebuke them 
for failures. Thanks, thanks. Brother 
Jacobs for making every line pregnant with 
needful truths. Certainly this lesson 
"talked itself alive." I wish it were in 
pamphlet form as I would like to pass it 
on to many as a gift to egg them on to 
a great writer. 

— Laura R. Merrill 

Logan. Utah 

Page 148 


Monthly Publication of the Relief Society of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints 

Belle S. Spaiford ------ President 

Marianne C. Sharp ... - - First Counselor 

Velma N. Simonsen - . . - _ Second Counselor 

\A r- T .^argaret C. Pickering ----- Secretary-Treasurer 

A^^^ D • Jr^^°- E'^o^ W. Peterson Christine H. Robinson Charlotte A. Larsen 

r5?i? S- 5,?^* Leone O. Jacobs Alberta H. Christensen Edith P. Backman 

bdith S. Elliott Mary J. Wilson Nellie W. Neal Winniefred S. 

t-lorence J Madsen Louise W. Madsen Mildred B. Eyring Manworing 

Leone G. Loyton Aleine M. Young Helen W. Anderson Elna P. Haymond 

Blanche B. Stoddard Josie B. Bay Gladys S. Boyer 


Editor - - - . - . . . . . . Marianne C. Sharp 

Associate Editor ---..-.-. Vesta P. Crawford 

General Manager -----.-.. Belle S. Spafford 

Vol. 41 MARCH 1954 NO. 3 


on tents 


Relief Society Responsibilities Joseph Fielding Smith 150 

The American Red Cross and Its Program 167 

Wilderness Road Willard Luce 186 

My Paradise — Cowslip Hollow Emily Wilkerson 190 

Today I Reveal Them Rose A. Openshaw 194 


"One Sweetly Solemn Thought" — Third Prize Story Ruth MacKay 153 

Their Pictures „ Mary C. Martineau 163 

Heritage Mildred Garrett Enos 175 

The Deeper Melody — Chapter 6 Alice Morrey Bailey 196 


From Near and Far 148 

Sixty Years Ago 168 

Woman's Sphere Ramona W. Cannon 169 

Editorial: The Lifeblood of Relief Society Marianne C. Sharp 170 

Announcing the Special April Short Story Issue 171 

Notes to the Field: Organizations and Reorganizations of Stake and Mission Relief 

Societies for 1953 172 

Notes From the Field: Relief Society Activities Margaret C. Pickering 201 


Shrubs for Your Garden Dorthea Newbold 159 

Old Quilts Velma Mackay Paul 179 

Chloe Call Later Makes Her Own Quilt Designs 192 

A Sunken Window Garden „...Celia Luce 193 

Way Down Inside Margaret Lundstrom 205 

Bathroom Tricks: Potted Plants in the Bathroom Elizabeth Williamson 206 

Brighten the Corner Where You Are Caroline Eyring Miner 207 


The ReUef Society — A World-Wide Sisterhood — Frontispiece Phyllis Hodgson Holbrook 147 

Against the Dark „ Ouida Johns Pedersen 158 

Queen of Queens Gene Romolo 167 

Relief Society Elsie Scott 171 

Nocturne Grace Barker Wilson 173 

Sunrise on Cliff Mountain Gertrude T. Kovan 174 

"For Which the First Was Made" : Christie Lund Coles 178 

"Seek After These Things" Rhea M. Carrick 189 

Loneliness Vesta N. Lukei 191 

Communication Dora Toone Brough 192 

Morning Is Her Delight Lael W. Hill 200 

Hurry Home - Elsie McKinnon Strachan 206 

Our Town Evelyn Fjeldsted 207 

Spring Fantasy Verda Mackay 207 

Orchard in Bloom Eva Willes Wangsgaard 208 


Editorial and Business Offices: 40 North Main, Salt Lake City 1, Utah, Phone 4-2511; Sub- 
scriptions 246; Editorial Dept. 245. Subscription Price: $1.50 a year; foreign, $2.00 a year; 
payable in advance. Single copy, 15c. The Magazine is not sent after subscription expires. No 
back numbers can be supplied. Renew promptly so that no copies will be missed. Report change 
of address at once, giving old and new address. 

Entered as second-class matter February 18, 1914, at the Post Office, Salt Lake City, Utah, under 
the Act of March 3, 1879. Acceptance for mailing at special rate of postage provided for in 
section 1103, Act of October 8, 1017, authorized June 29, 1918. Manuscripts will not be returned 
unless return postage is enclosed. Rejected manuscripts will be retained for six months only. 
The Magazine is not responsible for unsolicited manuscripts. 

Relief Society Responsibilities 

President Joseph Fielding Smith 
Of the Council of the Twelve 

[Address Delivered at the Annual General Relief Society Conference, 

September 30, 1953] 

Ifeel honored in being invited to 
come here this afternoon to 
give to you a brief address in 
relation to the Relief Society of the 
Church. And I know you are just 
as well acquainted with the organ- 
ization of the Relief Society as I 
am; nevertheless, I jotted down 
from the history a few items in re- 
lation to the organization and the 
instruction that was given at that 
time by the Prophet Joseph Smith. 
As you know, the society was or- 
ganized March 17, 1842, in Nauvoo. 
And on that occasion the Prophet, 
John Taylor, and others were pres- 
ent and assisted. 'The Female Re- 
lief Society," I am quoting, 'was 
organized in Nauvoo by the Proph- 
et Joseph Smith" who stated ''that 
the purpose of the society is to 
furnish the sisters of the Church 
an organization through which they 
may actively foster the welfare of 
the members." The duty of the so- 
ciety was stated to be "to aid the 
poor, nurse the sick and afflicted, 
and in a general way, under the di- 
rection and guidance of the bishop, 
to engage in the charitable work in 
behalf of all those requiring assist- 

This was the first organization of 
women in the world, so far as his- 
tory records, and I think that is 
quite an honor to think that the 
women of The Church of Jesus 
Christ of Latter-day Saints took the 

Page 1 50 

first step in the interest of the 

"This is in keeping with the gen- 
ius of the gospel," the Prophet said, 
"for the Lord provides duties and 
labors for all the members of the 
Church, both men and women, 
wherein service may be rendered 
for the temporal as well as the 
spiritual salvation of man." 

The Church was so organized 
that all the members may find in it 
some activity. As you know, most 
of the so-called Christian churches 
depend upon their minister. He 
does all the work, looks after the 
spiritual interest of his members, 
but they do not have the work di- 
vided among the members. But the 
Lord has so arranged things in The 
Church of Jesus Christ, that every 
man and woman in it may find 
some responsibility or something to 
do. So it was as natural as it could 
be for a Relief Society to come into 
existence, so that the women could 
have a society of their own, not only 
to engage in the duties which I have 
read, but that they might, in all par- 
ticulars, labor in the interest of the 
women of the Church and, for that 
matter, in charitable matters in the 
interest of all the members, male as 
well as female. And so, by revela- 
tion, this organization was estab- 
lished. Just as necessary in the 
Church as any other department. 



TN his instructions, the Prophet 
said: "Do not injure the charac- 
ter of anyone. If members of the 
society shall conduct themselves im- 
properly, deal with them, keep all 
of thy doings within your own bos- 
om and hold all characters sacred." 

I think that is very wise advice, 
not only in the Relief Society but 
in the quorums of the Priesthood 
and everywhere else within the 
Church. We should guard the 
character of every member. We 
should see that there are no in- 
justices done. 

Again, on March 30, 1842, he 


None should be received into the so- 
ciety but those who are worthy. All dif- 
ficulties which might and would cross our 
way must be surmounted. Though the 
soul be tried, the heart faint and hands 
hang down, yet we must not retrace our 
steps. That sympathy alone must not de- 
cide our judgment. All must act in con- 
cert or nothing can be done. Sisters 
should move as did the ancient Priest- 
hood, in unity. It should be a select so- 
ciety, separate from all the ills of the 
world, choice, virtuous, and holy. The 
society was to assist by directing the mor- 
als and strengthening the virtues of the 
community and save the Elders the 
trouble of rebuking and that they might 
have their time for other duties. 

Now, that is from the historv. 

There are a great many duties, 
responsibilities, that are given to 
our sisters, not all of them are in- 
cluded in these items that I have 
read. It is the duty of the Relief 
Society, not only to look after those 
who are members of the Relief So- 
ciety, but their labor should extend 
beyond those borders. Wherever 
anybody is in trouble, needs help, 
in difficulties, sick or afflicted, we 
call upon the Relief Society. Ac- 
cording to the words of the Proph- 

et here, 'Tt is their duty also to as- 
sist in seeing that there is no in- 
iquity in the Church." I take it 
that those labors would rest more 
particularly upon them in relation 
to the sisters of the Church, and 
they can perform a great and won- 
derful work by encouraging the way- 
ward, helping them, bringing them 
back into activity, helping them to 
overcome their weaknesses or sins 
and imperfections, and bringing 
them to an understanding of the 
truth. I say there is no limit to the 
good that our sisters can do. 

You are called upon constantly 
by the authorities in the stakes and 
in the wards. And I don't know 
what in the world our stake presi- 
dents and bishops in the wards 
would do if they didn't have these 
good sisters of Relief Society upon 
whom to depend; whom they can 
call to their service, many times, to 
handle situations that would be very 
delicate, that is for our brethren, 
but which our sisters may perform 
to the very greatest advantage. It 
would be a wonderful thing if all 
the members of the Church were 
perfect. If that were the case we 
would all have less responsibility, 
both the men and the women, but 
that time has not come. We have 
members among our sisters who 
need encouragement, a little help 
spiritually as well as temporally, and 
nobody can do it better than our 
sisters who belong to this great and 
wonderful organization. 
TN this work the sisters may lend 
their aid in encouraging and 
helping the wayward, indifferent, 
the careless, just as the brethren of 
the Priesthood are called upon to 
do in behalf of the wayward, care- 
less, and indifferent among the 


brethren. We should all work to to us,, and the sisters can do far 

bring to pass righteousness and en- more, in my opinion, laboring with 

deavor to bring back into activity the sisters, than the brethren would 

those who have drifted and neglect- be able to do. 

ed the duties of the Church. Now, may the Lord bless you ni 

We keep a record that's fairly ac- it, in all these things. I am very 

curate of all the male members of grateful that you are studying the 

the Church who are inactive, men doctrines of the Church. Now, I 

holding the Priesthood who are not am not going to say much about 

magnifying their callings; and the that nor go into details in relation 

men in the Church, members of to it, because you have topics com- 

the Church, who hold no Priest- ing up in the latter part of this 

hood. We have our brethren labor- meeting. But the Lord expects the 

ing among them to try to get them sisters to be qualified with a testi- 

into activity. niony of the truth to understand the 

We have a great many sisters, doctrines of the Church just as he 
likewise, who are delinquent and does those who hold the Priesthood, 
careless, and who are not living ac- If we gain exaltation, which we 
cording to all the Lord has revealed hope to obtain, it is necessary that 
and required of them. I know of we prepare ourselves by knowledge, 
no record, however, that gives us by faith, by prayer. And when the 
the number, or an approximate Lord said, ''Seek ye first the king- 
number, of the sisters who belong dom of God and his righteousness," 
to that class. But here is a work he was not talking just to a body of 
the Relief Society can labor in as men, it was a mixed congregation, 
well as clothing the naked, feeding And righteousness is required of all 
the hungry, caring for the dead, and those who have entered the waters 
attending to sucli other duties of baptism and have obtained the 
which fall upon them which they remission of their sins, 
perform so faithfully and acceptably May the Lord bless these good 
in the Church. sisters who preside over you in this 

It would be a glorious thing if organization. They are wonderful, 

we could all live as did the Nephites as you have learned. I have some- 

for two hundred years when the thing to do with them once in 

Lord said, or at least the Prophet awhile; occasionally they come to 

writes, that there was no iniquity me and to Brother Petersen with a 

among them, no envying, no strife, problem; we try to help them. But 

no wickedness of any kind. What they are capable and can solve most 

a glorious thing that must have of their problems without any help, 

been! And the prophet says, there The Lord bless them, bless all the 

could not be a happier people any- other sisters who are presiding in 

where than were these people at the various stakes and in the wards, 

that particular time. Our duty is and all those who are active in the 

to labor, to strive, to cry repent- organizations. And so I pray in the 

ance, to be diligent in all the duties name of the Lord Jesus Christ, 

and responsibilities which are given Amen. 

cJhifd [Prize Stor 


Jinnual [Relief Societif Short Story Con 


4 4 

One Sweetly Solemn Thought" 

Ruth MacKav 


THE words had burned nito 
Prue's brain as soon as she 
had read them. Addressing 
a Relief Society conference, Presi- 
dent }. Reuben Clark, Jr., had said, 
"And this is your work and ours, 
to save not only Zion, but the 

Thoughts chased through Prue's 
mind of the need for saving the 
world, its people sadly disillusioned, 
putting their faith in one material 
thing after another, and gaining no 
peace of mind or soul. 

She suddenly realized the bus had 
stopped, and, with a cheery word 

to the driver, she alighted. As she 
crossed the road to climb the hill to 
her home, she breathed deeply of 
the pure mountain air. She looked 
with affection at the row of tall 
stately gums growing on the road- 
side, the crisp brown bark hanging 
in strips from the trunks, showing 
the clean yellow boles beneath. A 
soft wind lazily stirred the crimson 
tinted leaves, and through them she 
could see into the field beyond, 
where the wattles with their crop 
of fluffy, golden balls glowed in the 
setting sun. 

Prue sniffed appreciatively at the 
scent which wafted to her on the 
breeze, and turned to go down the 
old track which led to her home, 
stopping by the gate to pick 
some buttercups and forget-me-nots 
which grew there in profusion. 
Somehow, today, the familiar scene 
seemed even more beautiful. As far 
as she could see were mountains, 
rising and falling into the distance, 
always shaded with the mist that 
made them look dark blue. The 
fleecy white clouds billowing up 
above them into a clear blue sky 
completed a picture that Prue could 
always visualize. The peaceful se- 
renity of the scene brought balm to 
her heart. 

But the silence was shattered as, 
with a whirring of wings and rau- 
cous laughter, a kookaburra flew 

Page 153 


from the trees onto Prue's shoulder, nervousness, when she got on her 

Jacky was the pet of the neighbor- feet, she stammered and stuttered 

hood; he had fallen from the nest so much that it affected her breath- 

when young, and Prue had nursed ing, and she could only gasp out a 

him till he could stand and fly. He few words. Locked up inside her, 

was very tame, and would hop into were beautiful thoughts of love, of 

the kitchens nearby for the titbits belief in the gospel, together with 

that were given him, flying harm- boundless gratitude to the mission- 

lessly out of the way of unfriendly aries who came out to Australia to 

cats, and laughing uproariously at seek out those who were looking for 

their frustration from roof or chim- the truth. She felt very humble 

ney tops. that the Lord had led them to her 

Prue took him into her arms, door. If only she could reveal what 
stroking the soft brown and fawn her conversion had meant to her, 
feathers. He flew ahead of her as the feeling of at last coming home 
she let him go, knowing he would the moment she had entered the 
be rewarded with a piece of meat chapel; the deep, abiding testimony 
when she got home. Prue fell in she had gained, with the sincere de- 
love with this beautiful world, her sire to live all the principles of the 
heart filled with gratitude that her gospel to the best of her ability, 
life could be spent amidst such Her life had been completely 
pleasant surroundings. changed by the visit of those two 

But the thought came back to ^1^^^^ If only she had the ability 

her, 'This is your work and ours, ^o tell others a 1 these things may- 

to save not only Zion, but the be it would help them, too, to ac- 

world." ^^P^ *^^ gospel. 

That night she lay tossing, un- QUDDENLY, as as though a ray of 

able to sleep. What could she do, O ^.^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^^ 

in her humble way, to save the p^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^5 ^ ^^^ ^^ 

world? She did her work as a mem- ^^-^^ ^-^^^ ^^^^ humbly and sin- 

ber of the Relief Society, and tried ^^^^-^^^ ^^^-^^ ^^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^^^1^ 

very hard to do all that was re- President Clark had designated to 

quired of her as Relief Society presi- ^Yiem. She would overcome that 

dent. Yet, she felt that that wasn t f^-i'^g ^f j^^^g^ 5^ ^Yiat she could 

what President Clark had meant, explain to others who were investi- 

There was something more required ^^^^^^ ^Yie truthfulness of this won- 

of her. But what? What must she ^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^ j^g^ ^^ly she believed 

do? in it with all her heart and soul. 

Towards morning, her thoughts She knew it wouldn't be easy, for 

went back to the previous day's she was well past forty, and it would 

testimony meeting. How she en- be hard to overcome a lifetime of 

vied those members whose fluency diffidence, but overcome it, she 

of words enabled them adequately would. 

to express their love and steadfast The next day saw her timidly 

faith in the gospel. No matter how climbing the steps of a city college 

much she tried to overcome her where night classes in public speak- 



ing were held. She approached the 
enquiry desk, fully conscious of her 
mature years as she passed groups 
of young students chattering gaily. 

'Tes, Madam?" asked the super- 
cilious young clerk. 

''I would like to join the public 
speaking class/' she said, in a quiet 
little voice. 

Taking a long pink form from a 
drawer, the young man enquired, 
very crisply, ''Name; Address; Ex- 

''No experience"— he looked at 
her as though she had committed 
a crime, explaining that the teach- 
er, Mr. Bell, was a very busy man, 
being as well a radio news com- 
mentator, therefore he had no time 
to waste on beginners. 

Seeing her obvious embarrass- 
ment, he stopped, and Prue, nerv- 
ously twisting her fingers, said, "Oh, 
Fm sorry, I really shouldn't have 

Perhaps touched by her sweet 
smile of apology, he unbent to tell 
her, "You go over to Room 5, 
Block E, and have a talk with Mr. 
Bell; he may be able to help you." 
Then, as if ashamed of being found 
out in a kind action, he resumed 
his writing. 

Prue wandered past the radio 
school and the art school and found 
Block E, Room 5 on the first floor, 
and Mr. Bell was there interview- 
ing his prospective students. And 
what an array they were. Prue's 
heart sank even further. Three busi- 
ness executives, two top engineers 
of the electric company; an archi- 
tect, a research fellow in science at 
the university; a young German 
scientist, and others of equally high 
scholastic qualifications. 

Standing there in her pale blue 
frock and large navy picture hat, 
Prue did not realize the appealing 
picture she made as she waited for 
Mr. Bell to speak to her. What 
made him take her she never knew, 
but she was grateful for being ac- 
cepted, and determined to do her 

When the class began, she had 
to take her turn with the others in 
getting up to say just why she want- 
ed to learn public speaking. She 
managed to explain that she want- 
ed to help others. Mr. Bell looked 
queerly at her, shrugging his shoul- 
ders and giving a sly wink to one of 
the men. A peculiar reason this; 
usually it was to help the men in 
their business, or with political as- 
pirations, but to help others! Well, 
of course, she was a woman, and 
women had funny ideas. 

npHE next six months for Prue 
were a nightmare. Each Thurs- 
day night they each had to speak 
for from four to ten minutes on 
subjects chosen by Mr. Bell. And 
such subjects: political questions; 
international affairs; economic prob- 
lems; and so on. Public library 
patrons and attendants came to 
know the little figure as she pored 
over books, taking copious notes in 
the lunch hour period from her 

Several times, in talks given by 
the men, religion had been men- 
tioned, but always in a facetious, 
disparaging way. It hurt Prue to 
liear them speak this way, but she 
realized they knew no better, for 
they did not have the blessing of 
the restored gospel. 

Then one week she was asked to 
speak on "The Message of Easter." 



Here v^'as a subject on which she 
did not have to go to hbraries to 
gain the necessary knowledge. Lov- 
ingly she thought out the opening, 
the body of her talk, and the clos- 
ing, using the knowledge the mis- 
sionary elders had taught her 
through the years. 

When her turn to speak came, 
the thoughts of her beautiful sub- 
ject brought a light to her face, and 
a sweet, patient smile to her lips, 
and the words came without effort. 
Returning to her seat, she was 
startled when passing Graham 
North, the architect, as he hissed 
at her, ''Oh, you're too good, I 
always feel like singing hymns and 
taking up a collection when youVe 
finished speaking." 

Mr. Bell, as usual, allowed one 
of the class to criticize the speech, 
lie nodded to Mr. North. 

Oh, no, thought Prue, not he, 
he has no time for religion, and he 
just doesn't understand. And he 
was the one who had so distracted 
her attention in one of her talks 
that she had broken down com- 
pletely and couldn't continue. 

Her worst fears were realized. 
Graham completely and sarcastical- 
ly tore her talk to shreds. Still 
smiling, but inwardly sick at heart, 
she wondered if it were worthwhile 
to continue with the lessons. She 
had been foolish to come at all; she 
was out of her depth and would 
never make a public speaker. Oh, 
why hadn't they taught such things 
when she went to school? But even 
if they had, she wouldn't have bene- 
fited, for she had to leave school 
when she was thirteen, her father 
having died, she had to help with 
the family finances. 

Feeling utterly crestfallen, she 

made her way out of the building, 
followed by some of the younger 
men of the class. Turning to say 
goodbye to them at the street cor- 
ner, one of them halted her, saying, 
"What religion do you belong to? 
Some of the ideas you gave in your 
talk tonight are new to me." 

'I'm a Mormon," she said simply. 

Then followed, right there on the 
street corner, an hour of discussion. 
Questions and answers flew back 
and forth. Sometimes they agreed 
with her, mostly they did not, and 
she invited them to the chapel so 
that they could learn more. Two 
of them did come to the next sacra- 
ment meeting, being deeply im- 
pressed with the obvious sincerity 
of all who took part, and with the 
warm friendliness of the saints. 
Prue's heart sang with joy, and she 
determined she would carry on with 
the lessons, and eventually achieve 
a measure of success with her speak- 

'T^HE following I'hursday, as she 
sat in her seat awaiting Mr. 
Bell's criticism of her talk on "The 
Racial Problem of South Africa," 
she squared her shoulders; she 
mustn't be afraid of criticism, she 
must learn to take it, and use it to 
better her efforts. 

Mr. Bell addressed the class, "T 
think you will agree with me that 
the talks given by our lady member 
here have all had one definite 
characteristic— a kindly love of peo- 
ple, a desire for their betterment, 
and a high personal moral standard. 
Here is someone who devotedly be- 
lieves in something, something she 
wants to share with others. I would 
like to say we are happy and privi- 



leged to have her here with us." 

Prne sat stunned. Surely her 
poor, miserable little efforts at 
speechmaking could not have had 
that effect. Yet, they had, for the 
class applauded vigorously. The gos- 
pel was surely more marvelous than 
ever if it could shine through her 
halting words and phrases on eco- 
nomics, racial problems, and the 

Suddenly shy, she turned and 
faced the class, murmuring, 'Thank 
you/' but a chill hand caught her 
heart as she glimpsed the look of 
distaste on Graham North's face. 

Thursday came round agam, but 
Prue could not go to the college, 
for some missionaries were return 
ing home, and there was a farewell 
social at the chapel. She wondered 
if their parents ever fully realized 
the immense amount of good these 
lads did out here in the mission 
field. Nothing a convert could 
ever do could ever repay them for 
the great blessing of the gospel that 
they brought. It was sad to see 
them go, for you came to love them 
as your own sons. But how nice 
for them to be once more with 
their own folks. 

Hurrying along the next week, 
Prue realized she was going to be 
late. She entered the classroom 
and saw all were seated and the les- 
son about to begin. Mr. Bell smiled 
a welcome at her, saying, ''Here's 
Mrs. Martin now.*' 

She looked wondermgly at him 
as they greeted her with applause, 
and he explained, ''When you 
didn't come last week, and were 
not here at your usual time tonight, 
we were afraid you had left us, so 
that is just an expression of their 
relief that you are still coming." 

She took the chair he indicated, 
only to find she was sitting next to 
Graham North. Smiling at him, 
she got out her books. 

OER talk that night was impromp- 
tu, and she realized herself that 
it wasn't good, so when Graham 
was called on to criticize, she braced 
herself for what she knew would be 
coming. But, somehow it was dif- 
ferent. Gone was the sarcasm in 
Graham's voice— it was soft and 
pleasant— and he was showing her, 
in a kindly way, where her faults 
lay. Then he concluded that he 
appreciated the kindness and toler 
ance that she gave to all of them. 

When called upon to give his 
own talk, the class sat quiet. Here 
was a Graham they did not know. 
Instead of opening in the loose, 
bantering way in which he usually 
did, his voice was firm and clear, as 
though he had a message to deliver. 
He compelled their complete atten- 
tion as he went from point to point, 
likening his work as an architect to 
that of the work of Christ. 

Prue stared at him. Was this 
the man who had always spoken so 
lightly of moral standards? 

Classwork over, he leaned toward 
her, "How did you like the way I 
brought in religion tonight?" he 

With eyes shining, she said, with 
all sincerity, "I thought it was fine." 

He put his hand on her shoulder, 
saying seriously, "Listen, girl, you've 
got the only answer for the troubles 
of this world. I've tried hard to 
find your weak spot, but you've 
always given me back sweetness and 
understanding. You're a good mis- 
sionary for Christ, and do you know 
what? I've started reading the 



Bible again, something I haven't 
done for years, and I can read it 
now with a new understanding." 

Leaving the college building, 
Prue's eyes were full of tears, and 
her heart overflowing with gratitude 
that she was privileged to be a mem- 
ber of the Church that had the re- 
stored gospel. There came to her 
mind a little legend she had once 
heard of the nativity of Christ. 

The whole world was full of won- 
der the night Christ was born— the 
animals gave of their breath to 
warm the air, the flowers gave of 
their fragrance to give it sweetness, 
the birds gave their song, and the 
butterflies their color. But the poor, 

humble little worm had nothing to 
give, so he picked up a fallen petal, 
and crawled painstakingly to the 
manger where the Christ child lay. 
In turning, the babe touched the 
worm and to this day it glows so 
that it is called the glowworm. 

The touch of Christ can make us 
all glow, thought Prue, and maybe 
this is what President Clark meant, 
when he told us to save the world. 
To keep that spirit of love and un- 
derstanding so bright within our- 
selves, by adhering to the principles 
that we are taught— then would our 
lights so shine before men, that they 
would be drawn by their brilliance. 

Ruth MacKay, Lethbridge, Alberta, Canada, appears for the first time as a winner 
in the ReHef Society Short Story Contest, with her offering "One Sweetly Solemn 
Thonght." A convert to the Church, Mrs. MacKay, has traveled in many parts of the 
world. "I am an Australian," she tells us, "and this story is the first one submitted, 
the only other publication being an article, 'We Seek After These Things' published 
in The Rehef Society Magazine in 1951. I am at present working on a book. I ar- 
rived in the United States last June, and proceeded to Canada for the wedding of one 
of my daughters, of whom I have three: Ruth, married, and living in Australia; Joan, 
married, and living in Canada; and Yvonne, studying at Brigham Young University. 
For nearly two years, after the return to the United States of Sister Myrtle G. Chris- 
tensen, because of ill health, I acted as president of the Australian Mission Relief So- 
ciety. I am an accountant by profession, being formerly head of the administration 
and finance of the Press Attache's office of the Netherlands Legation in Australia." 

J^gainst the Jjark 

Ouida Johns Federsen 

Hyacinths, fragrant tapers of the spring. 

Kindle the ground to new remembering; 

New seedlings force their tender roots in stone 

Crevices to splinter granite bone. 

Then waking turf renews its emerald sea; 

Refutes once more the grave's finality. 

Seeing once again the earth's reprieve 

From darkness, we are strengthened — and believe. 

(bhruos for LJour (garden 

Dorthea Newhold 

Deseret News Garden Editor 

A shrub is anybody's plant. You the size the shrub will attain at ma- 
just can't go wrong with them turity. 
unless you plant them too With wise selection of shrubs, you 
close together and fail to give them can screen out unsightly views, make 
a yearly pruning. You can have a mass plantings, have a flowering 
whole garden of shrubs, colorful the hedge, or divide your garden area 
year around. You can use them to into rooms for greater beauty. At 
give your garden complete privacy, the same time you will shut off, to 
to separate one section from the a degree, the noises from a busy 
other, and, best of all, the shrub street, creating a beautiful retreat for 
garden is easy to maintain and in- family and friends, 
expensive. Foundation plantings using de- 
Shrubs are woody plants of bushy ciduous shrubs offer the gardener an 
habits, developing several stems in- opportunity to create a planting 
stead of a trunk as does a tree. They that is original and suitable to his 
are a permanent part of the garden, own home. With thought and care- 
yet, surprisingly, little thought or ful placing of shrubs, he will have 
imagination is given to the selection a planting that will not be seen 
and arrangement of shrubs. Too around every other house along the 
many shrubbery plantings are dull street. 

part of the year. One reason for Flowering shrubs planted close to- 

this is the monotonous over-planting gether for a hedge should be left un- 

of a few well-known kinds. The over- clipped, but should not be allowed 

planting of Spirea Van Houtti is an to grow without a yearly pruning 

example. so they become an unsightly tangle. 

Every garden has its own peculiari- 
ties and some varieties of shrubs will TN areas where winters are severe, 
not thrive in it, but there is such a no flowers are more welcome 
wealth of material to choose from than those which appear early in the 
that there is no excuse for the over- year. Pussywillows— one clump of 
planting of one variety. them— will prove to be a delight to 
Before making a selection of young and old, for who can resist 
shrubs consider the location, and the the charm of those gray catkins as 
exposure, whether the shrubs will be they emerge from their brown win- 
in sun or shade; whether you have ter coats. 

heavy soil which retains the moisture Fortunate are those who can suc- 

or soil that is light and dry. Con- ceed with witch hazel — its lovely 

sider, too, the amount of space to be blooms come so early in the year to 

filled, for this will determine wheth- signal that spring is on its way. Daph- 

er you will select a dwarf, medium, ne cneorum is a choice plant for 

or large-growing type of shrub. A edgings for the shrubbery border or 

good nursery catalogue will give you for rock gardens. Viburnum burk- 

Pooe 159 





woodi can't wait for the leaves to 
show up, but puts out a dazzhng 
beautiful waxy flower that wafts its 
fragrance over the newly awakened 
garden. Then the forsythias — sev- 
eral varieties, come along, bowing 
their wands of yellow bloom to all. 
Cydonia japonica, with its brilliant 
orange to red blooms, seems to be 
the signal for all the spring flower- 
ing shrubs to put on their show, for 
then the real display in shrubdom 

Spireas, Viburnum carlesi, Vi- 
burnum tomentosum, and other vi- 
burnums, flowering almonds, Prunus 
triloba, honeysuckle, weigelas, burst 
into an extravagant display. 

Then come the lilacs. What mir- 
acles of beauty, of color, of fragrance 
are these! The old common laven- 
der and white, the elegant new 
French varieties, or those Persian 
beauties with their soft plumes of 
lavender flowers— all are an asset in 
the shrub border. 

Then a lull comes, and the ex- 
quisite beauty of the mock orange 
enhances the scene— it seems to have 
waited purposely till now to show 
its perfect beauty. As a lower-grow- 
ing companion, its white flowers 
covering every stem, we see Deutzia 
gracilis— perfect for the front of the 

Hypericum — St.-John's-wort, a 
low-growing shrub, is an excellent 
ground cover, is welcome in every 
garden, for it blooms from early sum- 
mer until hard frost. 

With the summer, Spirea An- 
thony Waterer, Potentilla fruiticosa, 
the altheas, Vitex agnuscastus, Cary- 

Courtesy the Deseret News 


Gives an excellent display every spring 

(yellow flowers). 

opteris incana, the hydrangeas, the 
faithful smoke tree, and tamarix, 
will bring another riot of color. 

■pALL and its accompanying frosts 
make us conscious of those shrubs 
which hold their leaves a bit longer 
than does the average shrub, and 
conscious, too, of colorful leaves. 
The privets can be depended on to 
hold their leaves well into the bitter 
cold weather. Cotoneaster, most of 
the varieties of euonymus, beauty 
bush, viburnums, snowberry, and 
pyracantha will hold their leaves 
well, some of them until December. 
Now come colorful berries and 
foliage— these are extra beauty divi- 
dends and gardeners accept them 
with gratitude. Euonymus altaus 
compactus has foliage of an unbe- 

Opposite Page: Deciduous shrubs, evergreens, and other trees used to bring 
privacy into a small garden or to divide the garden into rooms. Trees may be used to 
frame the home or to frame a lovely view. 

Photograph, courtesy the Deseret News. 



Courtesy the De&eret News 


Juniper at the entrance; trimmed snowberry bushes; pyracantha bushes at the corner, 
giving height where it is needed. 

lievable brilliance. It is of a com- 
pact growth and will grow in semi- 

Berried shrubs — they are an open 
invitation to the birds to stay with 
us a bit longer — promise luscious 
feasts for a long time. Snowberry, 
pyracanthas, honeysuckles, coton- 
easters, Berberis euonymus, maho- 
nias, and some of the viburnums will 
produce a crop of berries. 

Now it is winter, and we have 
almost completed our cycle, and we 

wonder what to use for winter color. 
We can depend on dogwood, the 
red-twigged and the yellow twigged 
varieties, to bring life and color to 
the sleeping garden. There are some 
willows that have a yellow bark and 
will add color to the winter land- 
scape. Kerria japonica shows stems 
of bright green — the forsythias 
show stems of a deep brownish pur- 

For ease of upkeep, for sheer 
beauty, and little cost, nothing can 
surpass a garden of shrubs. 

Their Pictures 

Mary C. Martineau 

TO be sure Virginia didn't have 
soft brown eyes with a mourn- 
ful expression in them, neither 
did she have brown hair parted de- 
murely in the middle and kinked 
evenlv down on both sides, as the 
enlarged picture showed when the 
canvasser finally brought it after she 
had given up hope. But he had ac- 
complished some things that she 
noticed at a glance, as he leaned it 
up against the kitchen door and in- 
vited those present to inspect it at a 
distance. He had caught her youth 
in the oval, wrinkleless face with its 
soft rosy cheeks and deeper rosy 
lips, and her dress— oh, it was a 
masterpiece! It was just perfect: 
mahogany brown cashmere with 
reverses turned back, revealing a 
deeper brown but exquisitely match- 
ing satin front, which was gathered 
at the neck into a satin ''choker" 
collar of the same color. 

Virginia looked and looked at 
the picture; she was inwardly 
pleased, but she said, 'Why didn't 
the artist make my hair almost 
black and glossy, and why aren't my 
eyes just dark and not so docile? 
I've a good notion not to take it 
at all." 

The canvasser bent his head sad- 
ly and said in a most contrite man- 
ner, "It's hard to remember every- 
thing. Madam, and when I thought 
of you and looked at the photo- 
graph, I must have imagined that 
your hair and eyes are as the en- 
larged picture shows, and I am sure 
your eyes are browner than you 
think. The color of your beautiful 
dress makes them look that way to 


''Nonsense," said Virginia. 

"How do you like the frame, 
Madam?" asked the canvasser humb- 
ly. ''Great care was used in the 
choosing of it, for it is of full oak, 
and the designs on it are Venetian, 
I am told, and the gilt is really 
gold," he went on, as if divulging 
a great secret. 

Virginia smiled about the real 
gold, but replied, "The frame is all 
right," and going to the cupboard 
and reaching up on the top shelf, 
she brought down a brown wallet, 
and from it extracted a ten-dollar 
gold piece. She handed the money 
to the canvasser, who backed away 
from the picture and from the door 
in a most polite manner. Hurriedly, 
he got into his buggy, which con- 
tained enough enlarged pictures for 
the whole countryside, and away he 
drove up the lane as fast as his old 
horse could be persuaded to trot. 
He had a picture for the Glens 
whose little boy had been drowned 
in the river; a picture of Mrs. Del- 
bert's mother sitting on a straight 
chair. The pictured lady had a 
most somber face, a double chin, 
and a striped dress. He also had a 
picture of Grandpa Weathers in his 
Civil War uniform, when he was 
young, and he had a picture of 
Marthy Jenkins' oldest daughter, 
with her hair let down her back, 
and so on. He was in a hurry to 
get them all delivered, realizing how 
lucky he was to have the ten dollars 
already in his pocket, but he would 
be luckier if the other patrons 
would accept theirs and pay up. 

Page 163 


AFTER he was gone, Virginia in the doorway. ''Well, by the 

turned to her boys, who had continental," he said, taking his old 

said nothing, and asked, "What do white felt hat off and rubbing his 

you think of it?" hand through his hair, 'where in 

The youngest one said, "It's thunder did that come from?" 

awful pretty. Ma, and almost like "Don't you like it, John?" asked 

you," but the oldest one said, "I Virginia. 

think your photograph is the pret- ''It doesn't look a confounded 

tiest. Ma. Did you get your photo- thing like you, Virginia. I think 

graph back?" you got bit that time." Then, notic- 

Virginia thought he was right in ing the snap in her eyes, for she 

some ways, but the photograph was never could stand to have anyone 

only black and white, and her pic- think that she was green enough 

ture on it was only one of a family to get bit, he said, with his own eyes 

group, and she thought it quite mar- twinkhng, "Now, you know your 

velous that it had been singled out eyes have some life and sparkle in 

as promised and made into a large, them, but the eyes in that picture 

colored picture all framed and ready look like a dying calf's." 

to hang on the wall. Now Virginia was smiling and so 

She said, "Yes, Son, here is the were her eyes. John came forward, 

photograph. He gave it back just hung his hat on a nail behind the 

as he promised, and, while the pic- door, poured some water from the 

ture isn't all it should be, yet I bucket on the washstand into the 

promised to take it, so we'll hang it tin washbasin and proceeded to 

up and make the best of it." wash his face and hands before tak- 

Virginia liked to look at her pic- ing his place at the table with his 

ture. The hair was so smooth, just family. 

the way she always combed hers in Supper began in the usual man- 

the morning, but never had a ner by his asking the blessing, and, 

chance to look at again all day, ex- afterwards, Virginia glanced up for 

cept as she happened to glance in just an instant at the sad brown 

the mirror above the wash-bench as eyes in the picture, smiling to her- 

she washed and combed the chil- self and wondering, 
dren's hair for dinner. As she looked 

at the picture again, she liked, too, A ^L the wives along the country- 
the looks of the soulful brown eyes side were pleased with their 
and wished she knew the secret that pictures, and the canvasser went 
lay behind them, for her own eyes away with more orders, to his own 
laughed when she was happy, and surprise and to the disgust of the 
they snapped when she was angry, husbands from whose flat pockets 
Why couldn't her eyes be always the ten dollars had been wrung, 
sweet and appealing like the ones John said he'd throw the next can- 
in the picture, though of course not vasser off the place, if he ever 
so dull looking. caught him coming there again. 

When John came in to supper, One evening she caught John 

the picture was the first thing that looking at her picture as she sat 

caught his eye. He stopped short knitting by the fading light of the 


window. He was lying on the old Bye and bye he ran down and sat 

lounge resting and telling her about still waiting her verdict, and Vir- 

the happenings of the day, but look- ginia had a verdict. Going to the 

ing at her picture with kindly eyes family album, she slid a youthful 

and with a sort of longing, she photograph of John out of it, and, 

thought, in his own. handing it to the canvasser, said. 

On the very next day, when John ''See that you take good care of 

had gone to take a grist to the mill, this, I wouldn't lose it for the 

the canvasser came again. lie drove world." 

down the lane and tied his horse to He promised faithfully. After be- 

a tree. Upon getting out of his ing told to make John's hair a light 

buggy, he took off his duster and brown and soft and curly, not dark, 

put it back on the buggy seat, ad- as the photograph showed it, and to 

justed his derby hat, picked up his be sure to make his eyes blue, a 

samples, and came to the door. heavenly blue, and not to forget the 

Virginia met him with a curt dimple in his chin, the canvasser 
''How do you do," and drove the left the house, 
flies back with a paper as he hurried Now the ordering was to be kept 
through the screen door that closed a secret so Pa would be surprised 
after him with a bang. He stood in and awfully happy when his picture 
meekness until invited by httle came. It was a glorious secret, but 
Bill to sit down, and then he sat Virginia spent a sleepless night try- 
down and said with a smile, '1 see ing to figure out where she could 
you have your lovely picture hang- possibly get another extra ten dol- 
ing up. I hope your husband liked lars, for she knew very well that 
it. I'm sure he couldn't help liking John didn't have a cent to spare, 
it. I came today to see if you Why school would be starting soon 
would consider sending one of him —what could she have been think- 
to be enlarged. I think it would ing of anyway— the children would 
please him mightily. Sometimes hus- need shoes and slates— and every- 
bands feel neglected in such mat- thing? Why, oh, why did she 
tejs /' always give herself something to 

Virginia almost caught her breath worry about? John would probably 

as she remembered how John had only be vexed anyway. Bye and bye 

looked at her picture when he she fell into a troubled sleep, m 

didn't know she saw him. Yes, she spite of her worry and John's deep 

thought to herself, that was it, he snores, and slept till daylight, 
was feeling neglected. I will send 

his picture-but how can I manage 'TIME went by and the secret held. 

[l? John went about his farm work 

As the canvasser talked on and with great energy, and the canvas- 
on, persuading the persuaded, she ser was forgotten by everyone ex- 
turned the idea over in her mind cept Virginia. She had a skel- 
and let him talk. The little boys eton in her closet now, and she 
gathered close about her also urg- could hear it rattle quite often. It 
ing her here and there whenever must not escape, so she put the lit- 
the canvasser paused at a comma, tie blue teapot on the top shelf, 


and every time her fears grew high So he said no more, 

she took a httle of her egg money Then the great day came. John 

or a httle of the milk check and was in the field mowing when the 

dropped it in, thus silencing the canvasser drove down the lane; but 

rattle. John spied him and, quickly as he 

One day John brought a traveler could, he drove his horses to the 

to the house. The traveler was in- near end of the field, unhitched 

quiring about the best place to ford them, and hurried to the house, 

old Bear River, and he also wanted But he arrived just as the canvasser 

some dinner for himself and some had delivered the picture, pocketed 

hay for his own team. In true the money, and was getting into 

Yankee style, John invited him to his buggy. 

stay to dinner and then took the Virginia had accepted the pic- 
horses to the corral and gave them ^ure hastily, handed over the mon- 
huge forkfuls of hay. ey, and got rid of him almost be- 

Virginia hardly knew what she fore he realized it, for she had seen 

could feed the man, or the family John coming and remembered the 

either, for that matter, but so as threat. She hated scenes, 

not to disappoint John, she had a jo^^ said, "How do you do," and 

chicken killed and fried it, baked the canvasser answered, "How do 

hot biscuits, mashed the potatoes, yo^^ ^o," and drove away. John 

brought butter and milk from the ^ame on quietly into the house, as 

cool cellar, and, with a little honey Virginia drew a long breath, 

for dessert and John to tell bear simultaneously they turned, and 

stories, the dinner was a great sue- ^j^^^.^ ^^^ the picture of John 


,^,, - 1,1 propped carefully against the kitch- 

When the man was ready to leave \^ rloor 

with John, to show him where the ,,,^,- '. , ^„ , , , , . 

r 1 ^ 1 . 1 4- \/- • • o ^ What the . . .? began John, but 

ford was, he turned to Virginia, and, _,. . . . , ,,^, ^? ^ ^ .t_ 

after thanking her for the nice din- V.rgm.a cned Oh, that man-the 

ner, he handed her a ten-dollar gold P'^'"'-^ ,^°e^" * ^°°\ ^}>'^ ''"^^^ y°"' 

• , ry. T u ' i.1. o^ J lohn. See the dark hair and the 

piece! To John s utter surprise and J^^^^ • , , ^, ^ i. t> 

. T- .1 4- J 4. xT^ mustache Oh, John, 1 m so sorry, 

great disgust, she accepted it. Nev- ^"'^•^'-^^ v. ^ , j , ; 

er had such a thing been heard of John only stared at the picture 

before in the vaUey anywhere. • • • the handsome face so unlike 

Imagine, taking pay for a meal of him in color, and yet there were the 

victuals. But Virginia was desper- merry blue eyes and the dimple, 

ate-she could hear the skeleton rat- which John noted, silent, but in- 

tle. Pa couldn't. wardly pleased. 

John remarked, upon his return Virginia broke in, "It's just hor- 

to the house, that he had his opin- rid, John, and I accepted the mon- 

ion of anyone who was small ey to pay for it to surprise you." 

enough to take pay for doing a good "And I love you dearly," John 

turn. Then Virginia's eyes really said, putting his arms around her. 

looked something like the eyes in "It's not so good, darling, but we'll 

her enlarged picture, as she said hang it up along with yours." And 

sadly, "I'm sorry, John." he did. 

cJhe J/imerican uieci Cross and iJts U^rocjmin 

^^npIIE Red Cross personifies, as nearly as any organization of which I 
can think, those great and noble virtues of man that are the richest 
heritage from the Almighty." 

Thus spoke President Dwight D. Eisenhower at the dedication cere- 
monies at the new District of Columbia Red Cross Chapter House on Oc- 
tober 1, 1953. 

"We have many examples nowadays of man's selfishness, man's bru- 
tality and inhumanity to man, man's readiness to forget the golden rule 
and to hve by some standard that he thinks will immediately advantage 
him at the expense of his fellows," the President said. 

''We have this in the international field. We have it far too often 
and discouragingly among groups or classes at home. The Red Cross, the 
nature of its slogan, of its purposes, the work that has been done through 
it, and the people that belong to it, bring to us, as we tend to gather dis- 
couragement about such things, realization that man is also made of nobler 
qualities than those of selfishness and greed and personal advantage. He 
is made up also of sacrifice, of nobleness, and love for fellow humans." 

The Red Cross has been distributing gamma globulin since 1944, 
largely as a measles prophylaxis, but recently, the organization was called 
upon to undertake an immediate and dramatic expansion of its operations 
to make available all the gamma globulin possible for the inoculation of 
children in the polio fight. In accordance with standard Red Cross prac- 
tice, this gamma globulin was provided to the American people without 
charge for the derivative. 

As a result of this plan, the Red Cross will turn over to the Office 
of Defense Mobilization more than 11,118,000 centimeters of gamma 
globulin by the end of 1954. The organization will continue to make 
available approximately one million centimeters annually after that date 
through fractionation of plasma derived from blood that becomes out- 
dated or otherwise not suitable for use as whole blood in its civilian pro- 


Everyone's help is needed to support the Red Cross in its campaign 
to accomplish its tasks which "are almost overwhelming in their magni- 
tude todav." 

slueen of slueens 

Gene RomoJo 

You, who rule the realm of home 
By patience, love, and piety, 
Wear the crown of womanhood 
With loyal grace most regally; 
Of all who reign upon the earth, 
You are queen of queens in \crity. 

Page 167 

^ixtij LJears J/Tgo 


Kxcerpts F'roni the Woman's Exponent, March i, and March 15, 1894 

"For the Rights of the Women of Zion and the Rights of thi: 
Women of All Nations" 

A PARTY FOR JANE S. RICHARDS: One of the most pleasant evenings of 
the season was spent at the residence of Apostle Franklin D. Richards January 21st, 
1894, it being the 71st Anniversary of the birth of the Apostle's beloved wife and our 
esteemed friend, Jane S. Richards. At 7:30 p.m. their spacious rooms were crowded 
with smiling faces, each one being anxious to extend congratulations and heartfelt 
wishes for many happy returns of the day .... The amiable lady was taken by storm; 
shaken and embraced without consent. No mercy was shown, everyone seeming to 
think they had a perfect right to a birthday kiss and a shake of the dear hand .... 

— E. B. W. 


But after the strife and the weary tussle, 
When life is done, and she lies at rest, 
The nation's brain and heart and muscle — 
Her sons and daughters — shall call her blest; 
And I think the sweetest joy of heaven. 
The rarest bliss of eternal life, 
And the fairest crown of all will be given 
Unto the wayworn farmer's wife .... 

— Ella Wheeler Wilcox 

eyes these words may reach, I would say: Be kind to your own sex. Would that my 
voice could reach the farthest ends of the earth when I write ''Women why so unkind 
to each other?" We see it every day in every position and avenue of life — on the 
street, in the stores, on the cars and even in the Churches .... I tell you my Sister 
Woman it is not the opposite sex whose words slash us, it is our own petty feelings 
and glib tongues .... And shall we not try to be more loving, more charitable? We 
are made of one clay, children of one Father, with common hopes and aspirations. 

— Alta Witbeck 

DEATH OF A GREAT ACTRESS: Mme. Elise Hwasser, who died recently, was 
for forty years the greatest Swedish actress. Mme. Hwasser delineated the heroines in 
Ibsen's dramas, and also played the leading Shakesperian roles. She retired to private 
life in 1888. —Selected 

LAKE CITY: President M. I. Home, presiding . . . spoke of a Psalm of David, 
which speaks of the people coming to a wilderness, of the many blessings here re- 
ceived. President Zina D. H. Young said, "Faithfulness to the gospel will make men 
and women free." Spoke of the temple, said every stone is a freewill offering of the 
saints. "Think of it, sisters, a temple where God and heavenly beings can come. Think 
of our young ladies, hear them speak and testify . . . full of the Gospel, full of intelli- 
gence." — Lydia D. Alder, Act. See. 

Page 168 

Woman's Sphere 

Ramona W. Cannon 

pOLLOWING are some of the 
highhghts of the past year 1953, 
of particular interest and concern to 

Forty-four out of forty-eight states 
have women legislators. 

According to the Metropolitan 
Life Insurance Company, the mar- 
riage rate in the United States for 
1953 fell to the lowest point in 
twenty years. However, the rate of 
live births was higher than ever be- 
fore in our country. 

Scotland's Earl of Home rebuked 
working mothers for the increased 
rate of juvenile delinquency. 

According to a ''Study in Human 
Starvation," two thirds of the world 
has to subsist on a deficient diet; yet 
there is plenty of food in the world 
for all. 

A CCORDING to a study of 1303 
women workers by the Wom- 
en's Bureau of the Department of 
Labor, those of fifty years and older 
had fewer absences because of ill- 
ness than any other group. 

pROVO-born lieutenant governor 
of California, Goodwin Knight, 
became governor when the ex-gov- 
ernor, Earl Warren, assumed the 
duties of Chief Justice of the Su- 
preme Court of the United States. 
Since he is a widower, heavy social 

responsibilities will rest upon his 
two daughters, Marilyn, twenty-six, 
(Mrs. Robert Eaton) and Carolyn, 
twenty, still attending college. 

jyjRS. MARCUS (Caroline Jo- 
sephine Ballantyne) FARR, 
ninety-two, died in January. She 
was the last surviving member of 
the family of Richard Ballantyne, 
organizer of the Sunday Schools of 
the Church. 

gIRTHDAY congratulations arc 
extended to Mrs. Melissa Ann 
Wells Dial of Willard, Utah, nine- 
ty-eight, Mrs. Roxie Cutright, Boise, 
Idaho, ninety-three; Mrs. Nan S. 
Richardson and Mrs. Margaret Ho- 
mer Earl, Salt Lake City, ninety- 
two; Karen Petersen Andersen, 
Sandy, Utah, ninety-one; and Mrs. 
Ann Eliza Allen Coombs of Center- 
ville, ninety. 

won a trip to the United 
States and Canada for capturing the 
title of Great Britain's ''Perfect Sec- 
retary." She says an ideal secretary 
should have a pleasing appearance 
and a personality which combines 
efficiency with tact and warmth; 
also a retentive memory for faces, 
facts, and appointments important 
to her employer. 

Page 169 


VOL. 41 

MARCH 1954 

NO. 3 

cJhe JLifehlood of uXeuef Societii 

'T^HE gospel opens to man the 
portals of eternal life; and in 
the gospel plan each individual has 
opportunities offered to him, the ac- 
complishment of which will help 
him gain eternal life for himself. 

When the gospel was not on the 
earth, woman, in the eyes of law 
became a mere chattel. With the 
restoration of the gospel in 1830, she 
was recognized again in her rightful 
position, and less than twelve years 
later, the Prophet Joseph Smith 
turned the key in her behalf in the 
name of the Lord, and promised 
that knowledge and intelligence 
should flow down from that time 

In March 1842, in commenting 
on the establishment of Relief So- 
ciety, the Prophet wrote in his his- 
tory: ''Our women have always been 
signalized for their acts of benevo- 
lence and kindness; but the cruel 
usage that they received from the 
barbarians of Missouri, has hitherto 
prevented their extending the hand 
of charity in a conspicuous manner; 
yet in the midst of their persecution, 
when the bread has been torn from 
their helpless offspring by their cruel 
oppressors, they have always been 
ready to open their doors to the 
weary traveler, to divide their scant 
pittance with the hungry, and from 
their robbed and impoverished ward- 
robes, to divide with the more needy 
and destitute; and now that they are 
living upon a more genial soil, and 
among a less barbarous people, and 
possess facilities that they have not 

Page 170 

heretofore enjoyed, we feel con- 
vinced that with their concentrated 
efforts, the condition of the suffer- 
ing poor, of the stranger and the 
fatherless will be ameliorated" (D. 
H. CIV, pp. 567-568). 

The great majority of Relief So- 
ciety members today live "upon a 
more genial soil," and the conditions 
have resulted in greatly ameliorating 
the suffering of the unfortunate. 
Countless are the acts of unselfish 
devotion of these Relief Society 

But as the one hundred twelfth 
anniversary of the Relief Society is 
observed on March 17, 1954, let a 
prayer be voiced, silent or vocal, for 
the plight of Relief Society sisters 
who today are living under condi- 
tions reminiscent of the descrip- 
tion of the suffering of the saints 
in Missouri. 

In these days bread has been torn 
from helpless offspring; wardrobes 
have been robbed and impoverished 
so that no coverings remain to en- 
fold the dead or the newborn; the 
old are left to die; the young are 
taken from their mothers for hours 
daily so mothers can leave home to 
do the work of men side by side 
with men. 

Yet, in spite of persecution, re- 
ports reach the general board tell- 
ing of the unnumbered acts of 
heroism— "the concentrated efforts" 
performed by the sisters of Relief 
Society under such cruel usage. At 
the peril of imprisonment and 
death. Relief Society sisters perform 


the tasks for which Relief Society home life and richer living. The life- 
was divinely established. And they blood of Relief Society is the solicit- 
will be rewarded according to the ous, loving action which flows from 
words of the Savior: "Inasmuch as the individual member to a person 
ye have done it unto one of the least in distress, either material or spiritual 
of these my brethren, ye have done distress; and these individual streams 
it unto me. of mercy, concentrated, bring life to 
The heartblood of Relief Society the whole body of Relief Society en- 
is not its cultural and homemaking circhng the globe, 
activities, vital as thev are to better — M. C. S. 

uielief Society 

Elsie Scott 

In every woman's heart there hes enshrined 

The need to love and help mankind. 

And surely we the women of this latter day 

Are doubly blessed, for God has shown the way 

And through his chosen servants here on earth 

His voice is heard. 

He guides, directs in everything we do — 

The teachers, visiting homes, taking a message tnic 

The charity that faileth not. 

To help the sick, the sad, and all who need. 

And while we do this work 

The Lord is waiting, quick to bless 

That we may gain a greater happiness. 

jTiinoancing the Special J/Lpnl Short Story SJssue 

'pHE April 1954 issue of The Relief Society Magazine will be the special 
short story number, with four outstanding stories being presented. 
Look for these stories in April: 

'The Best Years of Her Life," by Pansye H. Powell 
"What It Takes," by Kay Islaub 
"Second Best," by Blanche Sutherland 
"The Part-Time Heart," by Hannah Smith 


fey rganizat tons and LKeorganizations of Q!>take 
ana ll Lission Uxeuef Societies for ig^S 








North Pocatello 
North Tooele 
Salmon River 


Foimeih Part of Appointed President Date Appointed 


East Central States 
East German 

Great Lakes 
Spanish -American 


West Central States 

VN^est German 

Page 172 

West Central States 

Lethbridge and East 

Lethbridge Stakes 
Pioneer Stake 


Northern California 

North Davis Stake 
Pocatello Stake 
Tooele Stake 
Lost River Stake 

Gretta L. Karren 

Freda Kenney 

Mabel H. Miller 
Allene Bremer 

Sadie Ollorton Clark 

Mae Belle Nielson 

Oma E. Wilcox 
Bertha M. Pieper 
Leona P. Boyce 
Elizabeth G. Hoggan 

June 28, 1953 

November 15, 1953 

March 1, 1953 
October 18, 1953 

October 11, 1953 

March 22, 1953 

January 25, 1953 
June 21, 1953 
March 29, 1953 
October 18, 1953 


Released President Appointed President Date Appointed 

Mary P. Howells 
Hazel M. Robertson 

Edna H. Matheson 
Lena W. Glaus 

Beth C. Woolf 
Ella C. Burton 
Ethel L. Mauss 
Kate B. Mecham 
Ivie Huish Jones 

Vilate B. Pearce 
Leone R. Bowring 
Reta F. Broadbent 

Luella W. Cannon 

Lorene M. Sorensen 
Mission Closed, 
Transferred to 
San Francisco Stake 
Adriana M. Zappey 
Mary Ethel E. 

Rachael L. Lee 
Florence H. Richards 
Hazel M. Robertson 
Jennie S. R. Bowman 
EflFie Nina N. 

Frankie G. Orton 
Phyllis D. Smith 
Marteal W. Hend 

Bernice O. Dyer 

October 6, 1953 
December 31, 1952 

October 8, 1953 
October 20, 1953 

June 27, 1953 
June 11, 1953 
September 10, 1953 
June 18, 1953 
December 4, 1953 

February 6, 1953 
November 20, 1953 
November 19, 1953 

October 29, 1953 









East Lethbridge 





Idaho Falls 


Long Beach 
Mill Creek 

Monument Park 

North Carbon 

North Davis 

North Weber 





South Idaho Falls 

South Sanpete 





West Utah 



Zion Park 

Rekased President Appointed President Date Appointed 

Phylis S. Warr 
Elna P. Haymond 
Ruth P. Holt 
Afton P. Parry 
Edith Y. Harris 

Fern R. Laycock 
Winniefred S. 
Ined N. Fryer 
Geraldine Terry 
Rose Burner 
Mildred O. Norman 
Mabel J. Hansen 
Vera Deane Black- 
Oma E. Wilcox 
Amelia P. Johansen 
LaNola C. Driggs 
Nina L. Riley 
Florence N. 
Minnie E. Anderson 
Annie Parker 
Oma E. Wilcox 
Vera H. Sorensen 
Edna S. Hatch 
Vera Y. Allen 
Lena Oxborrow 
Ida S. Hendrickson 
Edna J. Kindred 
Leona F. Wintch 
Leona P. Boyce 
Nan A. Lindsay 
Mary A. Hansen 
Violet D. Olpin 
Rose Goates 
Elva O. Swensen 
Ida L. Allen 
Hilda Bringhurst 

Bernice Thompson 
Mary R. Young 
Rowena J. Warr 
Claire B. Jones 
Elizabeth Evans 

Lucile G. Williams 

Matilda B. Gilbert 
JennaVee Hall 
Ahene N. Bloxham 
Rhoda Thorpe 
Nannah C. Stokes 
Elsie J. Brinkerhoff 

Faun L. Reynolds 
Fern R. Laycock 
Verna A. Hunter 
Lenore G. Merrill 
Mary M. Wright 

Reba O. Carling 
LaPreal Richards 
Lavora S. Wood 
Amanda B. Hancock 
Bertrude S. Mitchell 
Julia N. Barg 
Veda F. Moss 
Jessie S. Baldwin 
lone J. Simpson 
Zella C. Christensen 
Rose L. Moscon 
Mai B. Oveson 
Martha H. Bleak 
Ruth Mae Witt 
Loleta W. Dixon 
Ida M. Swensen 
Helen M. Stock 
Margie D. Barber 

April 19, 1953 
July 6, 1953 
September 6, 1953 
May 10, 1953 
September 6, 1953 

November 15, 1953 
May 3, 1953 

August 16, 1953 
September 20, 1953 
July 19, 1953 
August 9, 1953 
August 16, 1953 
February 22, 1953 

August 9, 1953 
November 15, 1953 
May 10, 1953 
May 3, 1953 
April 12, 1953 

August 8, 1953 
August 30, 1953 
January 25, 1953 
February 23, 1953 
May 3, 1953 
March 1, 1953 
August 17, 1953 
March 15, 1953 
May 17, 1953 
July 12, 1953 
March 29, 1953 
July 26, 1953 
July 2, 1953 
February 22, 1953 
May 31, 1953 
June 28, 1953 
July 12, 1953 
January 11, 19^3 


Grace Barker Wilson 

A sudden silence always falls with dark 
Upon the desert where the daytime wind 
Blows noisily through sagebrush and mesqnite 
In a strange dissonance of music, stark 
And urgent. Night comes down, soft-moccasined, 
And makes a muted harmony complete. 


Don Knight 


(bunnse on (^liff lliountain 

Gertrude T. Kovan 

Between two mighty mountains 
An ancient cliff towers high. 
Its dim peaks and sharp edges, 
Reach far into the sky. 

When night comes, first ascending 
Long valleys far below, 
Sometimes the light still Hngers, 
A faint, rose-colored glow. 

But ohl to watch Cliff Mountain 

In the bleak and early dawn 

As the first, faint tints of sunrise 

Break through mists of darkness gone! 

I watch this magic stirring 

Across each crevassed peak. 

And I know that higher than Cliff Mountain 

Are the answers that I seek. 

Page 174 


Mildred Garrett Enos 

4 4-1 ^ AIL, Mommie/' Kathie's 
I y I blond braids gleamed as 
she laid the packet of 
mail on the table. 

Looking down, Beth saw a yel- 
low envelope protruding from un- 
der a magazine. Her heart skipped 
a beat. Telegrams were few here 
at Twin Knolls Ranch. Her hand 
trembled as she ripped it open, her 
throat was dry. 

At first disbelief, then relief and 
joy filled her being. 

''Kathie!" she swept her daughter 
into her arms and kissed her sound- 
ly. "Margaret Marie is coming! 
She's coming here to visit us!" 

She swung Kathie around in a lit- 
tle dance, knocking the butter pad- 
dle to the floor. And then, because 
the words were joyful to her tongue, 
she repeated, ''Margaret Marie is 

**Is she my grandma?" Kathie 
asked with interest, firmly believing 
that only grandmas and grandpas 
were occasions of such joy. 

Beth kissed her again, laughing. 
''No, pet, she isn't anyone's grand- 
ma." And then she sobered. "She's 
just about the most wonderful 
friend I've ever had. She lives in 
a country called England way across 
the ocean in a great wonderful 
house just filled with oil paintings 
and piles of silver that have been 
in her family for generations." Beth 
paused for a moment, remember- 
ing. "But bad times came to her 
country, and Margaret Marie started 
teaching to help out. She liked it, 
so she still teaches." 

Kathie brightened. School was a 
warm subject to her. "Can I play 

my school record again, Mommie?" 
she asked. "The one where the 
teacher has school?" 

"Again? Oh, dear, Kathie!" And 
then she reconsidered. "All right, 
love, all the way through two 

Kathie scampered away, and Beth 
picked up the butter paddle, her 
words to Kathie still lingering in her 
mind. Oil paintings and piles of 
silver. She looked at the worn 
wooden paddle that had been in 
her own family for years. And some 
of the joyful anticipation of the 
coming visit began to seep away. 
She rinsed the paddle under the 
faucet and attacked the bowl of yel- 
low butter vigorously, a thoughtful 
expression on her face. 

Later, with Kathie out to play and 
the baby down for a nap, Beth 
escaped to the back bedroom and 
pulled her big trunk out of the 
closet and dumped the contents in 
the middle of the floor. 

Family heirlooms! She began to 
sort them. A quilt that it was ru- 
mored had been Grandmother Wil- 
son's pride and joy. The only pret- 
ty thing in her bare little home. 
Beth sighed. It was certainly worn 
to tatters now, as were the yellowed 
baby clothes. There was a frail 
book of poems, a cracked, white 
crockery tureen. Truly, the west- 
ward-bound wagons and handcarts 
had spared no room for family 

If only I had something, Beth 
thought desperately. She laid her 
head on a corner of the trunk while 
Great-Grandmother Curtis' voice 
came back to her . . . 

Page 175 



''And there I was with my moth- 
er's china that I had managed to 
bring all the way across the ocean 
with me. And Fred said it was 
either the china, or the box of seeds 
and cuttings couldn't go West, so 
I gave the china to a neighbor that 
had been right kind to us. She gave 
me a side of bacon and a bag of 
white pea seed for it." 

Side bacon and white pea seed! 
Beth felt like crying as she dumped 
the stuff back into the trunk. 

CHE had devised a plan of sorts 
by the time Kirby came home 
for lunch, and so intent was she on 
it that she missed her usual pleas- 
ure in his comforting masculine 

''Margaret Marie is coming for a 
visit, Kirby," she told him as he 
kissed her. 

His eyes lighted with pleasure. 
"No! When?" 

"Day after tomorrow." 

"How did she manage?" he 
asked with interest. 

"Exchange teacher," Beth replied. 
"She's simply thrilled. Says she can 
visit five days before she'll have to 
assume her duties." 

"That's fine," Kirby said. "Give 
you girls time to catch up on the 
six years since you were an ex- 
change student in England." He 
grinned. "After all, since then 
you've acquired a husband, a five- 
year-old daughter, a son with a defi- 
nite will of his own, and a rundown, 
poorly stocked ranch, with a view!" 

They both glanced toward the 
west wall of the dining room. 
Through the wide expanse of the 
newly installed window, the two 
peaks of Twin Knolls Mountain 
rose in silent majesty in the dis- 

But somehow it didn't look quite 
as wonderful to Beth as it had just 
yesterday. Instead, she noted with 
dissatisfaction the old - fashioned 
round dining table set for lunch 
with the plain white plates and the 
dime-store silver. Only it wasn't 
silver. Not even the plated kind. 
Just plain, stainless steel. 

A picture of the dining room in 
Margaret Marie's house rose in her 
mind. Wide-beamed ceiling, pol- 
ished sideboard, gleaming silver. 
She took a deep breath for courage 
and asked urgently, "Kirby, remem- 
ber the sterling pattern we selected 
the week of our honeymoon?" 

"Sure do," he replied. He lifted 
a lid on the pot. "What's for 

Beth swallowed with difficulty. 
She had a wild urge to dump the 
pot, bottom up, over his head. 

"Do you suppose," she asked in 
an even voice, "we could afford to 
start us a set now?" At the look on 
his face she added rapidly, "Just the 
most basic pieces, Kirby, knives and 
forks and spoons!" 

He sensed the urgency in her 
voice and looked at her sharply. 
"Beth," he said gently as he slipped 
an arm around her waist. She felt 
his regret even before he finished. 
"The big window and the drapes 
just about did it for us till we har- 
vest again next year." 

Something in her heart refused 
defeat. ''Are we always that broke?" 
she asked in bitter rebellion, and 
hated herself for the hurt in his 

"Yes," he answered briefly. 
OETH swallowed again. "There 
are other ways," she said des- 
perately, "monthly payments are 
available on items of that sort!" 


"We're just getting started, 
Beth," he rephed quietly. "There 
are so many things. The children 
to provide for, stock to feed, pay- 
ments on the truck." 

She turned away in defeat. But 
the hurt and the desire stayed with 
her all afternoon, and the next day. 
As she moved about her self imposed 
tasks, she kept seemg the house 
through Margaret's eyes as she 
waxed and polished and baked. 
And, added to that, was the burden 
of her coolness to Kirby. 

He offered to drive her to the 
train two hours early next day. 
"Give you time to shop for any 
extras you might need in the way 
of food," he said. 

Beth was grateful but unappeased. 
He's trying to make it up to me, 
she thought sadly, but he just 
doesn't understand! 

In front of the grocery he op- 
ened the door for her. 'Til ride 
the children while you shop," he 
said, "pick you up in plenty of 

"All right, Kirby," she said. 
Next door to the grocery was a 
jewelry store. In spite of herself, 
Beth's eyes turned to the window as 
she passed. A display of silver, 
shiningly beautiful, met her gaze. 
It won't hurt just to look, she 
told herself desperately, and a mo- 
ment later she stood before the long 
glass case. 

"Isn't it beautiful?" the woman 
clerk asked, smiling at her. 

"Yes," Beth replied. She wet her 
lips. "Could I see that pattern 

The clerk laid it before her. The 
knives and forks, the iced beverage 
spoons, the salad forks, and serving 
pieces. A dazzling assortment. 


Beth looked at the pieces hung- 
rily, like a child with her nose to 
a window, she thought. 

"It's so easy to own," the clerk 
encouraged, "nine or ten dollars a 
month is all." 

Beth hesitated. "I'm not sure m\ 
husband would approve," she stam- 

"Some women even manage out 
of their grocery allowance," the 
woman said, watching her. 

Beth looked at the pieces again. 
Nine or ten dollars a month, she 
thought. Could I manage it? 

And then she went cold with 
horror. What am I considering? 
she thought frantically. She 
dropped the piece she was holding. 
"My husband and I have to approve 
these things together," she said 
firmly, and, turning, she fled .... 

nPHE house has never looked so 
sad and neglected, Beth thought 
as they reached home. Odd that she 
had been able to see so many possi- 
bilities in the place when she and 
Kirby had first looked at it. 

The first flush of young love, she 
thought, with the back of her mind 
as she took Margaret Marie's wraps. 

"Kirby will bring your bags," she 
said, "and you can clean up. In 
the meantime I'll fix us a tray. I 
know you must be starved!" 

"Oh, Mommie!" Kathie cried, 
"I want Margaret Marie to listen to 
my school record!" 

"Later, Kathie," Beth said, and 
escaped to the kitchen. 

She did a beautiful job with the 
tray. Embroidered napkins, hot 
buns, and a pat of butter, white- 
clover honey, and slices of cheese, 
a large bowl of fruit. At least the 
food is bountiful, she thought. 


Vaguely she heard the record player skies, for amber waves of grain, for 

start playing Kathie's school record, purple mountain majesties above the 

She picked up the finished tray fruited plain . . . ." 
and started for the dining room. At And there it was before Beth's 
the door she stopped. Margaret stinging eyes, the heritage her peo- 
Marie was standing in front of the pie had left her! She bowed her 
new window looking outward. The head. 'Torgive me," she whispered, 
valley stretched away westward in a ''forgive me! I forgot that a herit- 
panorama of contrast. Harvested age isn't always inside the house!" 
fields, a grazing flock of sheep, roll- The door opened and Kirby came 
ing orchard slopes, and the tall spire in. Across the room his eyes met 
of the ward church reaching up- Beth's. She looked back until the 
ward toward the infinite. And tlie look became one of their very spec- 
whole overshadowed by the tower- ial ones. And her heart relaxed, 
ing mountain peaks .... There would never have to be fur- 
In the background Kathie's record ther words, or explanations, 
reached the second half: "And now. She moved forward again as the 
children," said the recorded voice, song ended, and Margaret Marie 
'we will all stand and sing." And the turned from the window, her own 
childish voices began the song that eyes filled with tears. "My dear, 
is the special property of every niy dear!" she said. And reaching 
country-loving American. out she took the heavily laden tray 
". . . Oh, beautiful for spacious from Beth's proud hands. 

c/or Vi/mch the ofirst Viyas 1 1 Lade 

Christie Lund Coles 

The fruit-fair flesh nature had clothed her in, 
Delicate as glass, supple to the touch, 
Has wrinkled with the years, grown parchment thin, 
And withered as an apple dried too much. 
Her step so laughter-quick, her hand so firm. 
Are slowed and weakened by the rushing tide 
Of years that moved and passed, serving their term, 
Leaving her with the age her heart denied, 
And her eyes, too, that kept light from flame 
Of what she was once, beautiful and young. 
Though now, more than before, they speak a part 
Of her too long, too thoughtlessly unsung. 
Now, when vanity and youth's mask are gone, 
We see her spirit's proud, clear echelon. 

Old Quilts 

Veima Mackay PauJ 

SOMEONE has said that the wooden pegs. They built huge 

American quilt can be a docu- outdoor ovens for baking and in- 

ment of American life A list door fireplaces of stone and mud. 

1 ^-^^'J^'r^ ^^ T"^"' 1^"!'' They built their own wagons and 

tn^nf TJ^^- '""'f *^' sleds and made their harnesses from 

rend of the times socially, re- ^he leather of animals. They not 

Tf?; , r^^'r"^- • . . ^-ly -^de everything they ^used, 

Be ore artistic designing found they used everything they made, 

its place m quiltmaking, quiJtmg .L, , ^ ^ . , i- •, , 

Itself was a necessity, and necessity . Where homes were established 

always has been the mother of in- ^Y ""^^ 1^'^ V u^ \™ ^^^K""^ 

vention. For centuries, the people '*,™P5 ^^^ underbrush, and they 

of the cold countries of Siberia, P^°^'^ ^"^ P^'"*'^ ^^^'' ^^^P^' 

Manchuria, Northern Tibet, and ^^e women dug from their own 

other lands of similar climate, wore ^^^^ ^^^Y ^"^ ^^^^ pottery, milk 

padded clothing for warmth. Coarse P^^^' ^^^^^^ ^"^ ^^^" crocks, and 

wool from the animals was tied be- ^^^^^ i^S^- ^^ey built kilns and 

tween layers of cloth and made ^^^^ *^^|^ w^^^- 

into clothing. From this primitive ^11 this— and families too! Large 

quilting, de\eloped through the families, and they clothed them 

ages, we have taken-for-granted with cloth from their own looms 

quilted articles used in every home ^^d spinning wheels, and shod 

and establishment today. them with hides of animals. It is 

Centuries ago, the Crusaders re- because they endured great hard- 
turned from the Far East with elab- ships and made untold sacrifices, 
orate specimens of needlework, ap- our courageous forefathers were 
plique, embroidery, and quilting, able to establish a foothold in a 
Soon it began to appear in outer new world and lay the foundation 
finery, royal furnishings, and church for our present-day security and 
vestments. happiness. 

It was, however, when the Pil- Parties were few in the old days, 
grims, beginning a fresh life in a They grew out of necessary gather- 
new country, were faced with the ings, such as a barn raising, making 
problem of producing everything apple butter, or a quilting party, 
they owned, that the art of bed- When a farmer needed a barn or 
quilt-making really began. a new house, he assembled his ma- 

They literally carved their homes terials bit by bit. On a fixed day, 

out of the forest. Farm lands were his neighbors and friends came to 

cleared of stones, which were used help him build the structure, and 

to build barns and houses, and it was usually finished by nightfall, 

piled along border lines for fences. They brought their whole families; 

They built furniture from the tim- little girls minded the babies, little 

ber, which was also their only fuel, boys worked with their elders. No 

Having no iron nails, they used one was idle. 

Page 179 



The families brought with them 
enormous baskets of food, and the 
women spread long tables and 
cooked hot food over the fires. 
These were bright days in the some- 
what drab lives of the women, and 
they made the most of the occasion. 
They imparted news and friendly 
gossip and received it in return. 
Conversation ran from personal 
items to new dyes for wool and new 
style rag rugs. They exchanged 
recipes and home remedies for the 
sick. Herbs and brews played an 
important part in their lives, and 
they often exchanged herbs from 
their gardens as well as flower seeds. 

npHE young girls exchanged patch- 
es of calico and lovely paisley, 
or chintzes of figured brown and 
pink and minutely flowered prints. 
Few materials of this kind had 
found their way to America, and 
every inch was treasured. They also 
exchanged finished squares for 
quilts, either pieced or appliqued, 
and many cross-stitched their names 
and the date on their patches. 
When enough were exchanged 
(usually twenty-five) a hopeful 
young lady could sew her patches 
together. At the next quilting bee, 
she could have her "top" quilted, 
and when it was completed, she 
proudly laid it in her dower chest. 
It would be a treasured keepsake, 
for each patch had been designed 
and stitched by the hands of a lov- 
ing friend. 

All quilts were not so beautifully 
conceived. It was before the day 
of woven blankets, and bedding was 
a dire necessity. All old pieces, as 
well as new, had to be saved for 
their use. Faded material was dyed, 
and the wool had to be washed and 

carded by hand, and laid in straight, 
neat piles. Never was a scrap of 
anything wasted. When a quilt 
was worn out, it was re-covered, 
and new warmness and color were 
added. The popularity of the old 
''crazy patch" was due to the fact 
that anything of any size, shape, or 
material, could be used. The irregu- 
larity of patches and color grew ar- 
tistic and soft, as the maker out- 
lined the gay patches with fancy 
featherstitching and embroidered 
birds and flowers on the plainer 

Thus, by spinning the flax, card- 
ing the wool, weaving materials, and 
making quilts, pioneer women cre- 
ated with their own- hands the 
beautiful things they longed for in 
their hearts. 

Quilts are of two principal types, 
pieced or appliqued. The common- 
est are the pieced or patched, be- 
cause one can utilize scraps— and the 
designing of only one patch is 
necessary. The rest are repetitious. 

An appliqued quilt is more elab- 
orate, and requires more careful 
planning for color and design. Each 
block may be a different design, 
but must remain in balance. Best 
of all, an appliqued quilt allows an 
expression of ideas impossible in a 
pieced one. 

r\F all the quilts I have had the 
privilege of photographing for 
magazines, the most beautiful, un- 
usual, and elaborate is one made in 
1829 for the late Reverend Vinton 
of Maryland. It is now in the pos- 
session of his great-great-grandson's 
family. It is in its fifth generation 
and is in perfect condition. This 
quilt deserves special comment. 




When the Reverend Vinton re- 
signed his charge, the Ladies Aid or 
Women's Society of the church, 
presented him with this quilt. Each 
patch is signed with the maker's 
name, and the entire quilt is ap- 
pliqued in the most elaborate de- 
signs. The coloring is magnificent. 
The center block is his church. 
Even the shades and brickwork are 
appliqued. The tree behind the 
church has birds in its branches. 
To the left of the church, is a 
floral arrangement with easily eight 
shades of coloring. A finely print- 

ed brown material was used for the 
dove which holds the Holy Bible. 
The minister's name is also ap- 
pliqued on the book. To the right 
of the church is a patch work con- 
taining a wreath and his prayer book. 
It, too, bears his name. The patch 
above the church has a pleasing 
wreath and a dove of peace, while 
below the church is a bowl of fruit. 
The pears are yellow and cream, the 
apple red, grapes blue, and a sec- 
ond bunch of something is red. The 
object that resembles a football is 
a watermelon with a slice out. The 



black seeds are appliqued on the 
pink surface. To the right of that 
patch is another made up of symbols, 
possibly of his lodge. A "seeing 
eye" is between two arrows. At 
the bottom of the wreath is an 
hourglass, above it an arrow, three 
rings, and something else. In the 
center of the wreath is a shield, 
with a heart on which is an open 
hand, or palm. An eagle stands on 
a pedestal facing an owl perched 
on seven stars and a crescent. The 
right half of this wreath is of brown 

acorns and small green oak leaves, 
the left side is of red berries and 
green leaves. Elaborate plants, 
wreaths, etc., make up the rest of 
the quilt, and a beautiful border 
encompasses the entire quilt. It 
was undoubtedly used on a large 
poster bed, for it measures three 
yards each way. 

TN the Art Institute of Chicago, 
is a magnificent quilt called the 
Circuit Rider's Quilt, made some- 
where in the Midwest. Entirely in 




applique, it was made, in 1862, for 
the courageous preacher who made 
the one-hundred-mile circuit to vis- 
it his widely scattered parishoners 
in six communities. Forty women 
of the United Brethren Church 
made the forty-two blocks, only five 
of which are alike. They are floral 
wreaths, rose clusters, grapes^ tulips, 
ferns, leaves, berries, and geometric 
designs. The center is a shield of 
our own American flag. This one 
quilt alone records the days of the 
traveling minister and the simple 
faith of the country people. 

A very old popular pattern is 
shown in Plate 2. It was made over 
eighty years ago, and is called the 
Four Winds, and sometimes the 
Princess Feather. The plumes alter- 
nate in color, dark green and dark 
red, the center being orange. As 
often happens, one swirl was laid 
out in the opposite direction (up- 
per right) and probably not noticed 
until too late. However, it is not 
too noticeable, because of the bril- 
liant coloring and the fine feather 

Plate 3 is a good example of an 





early pieced quilt. It is called the 
Irish Chain. Only two colors were 
used with white, a deep figured red 
for the center block throughout, 
and a figured green for the outer 
blocks. The quilting is in very 
fine squares of no more than one 

Plate 4 is an example of beau- 
ty, skill, and fine workmanship. A 
figured red and yellow was used 
for the center of each tulip, and 
solid red for their sides. Solid 
green was used for the leaves, and 
border. It is entirely appliqued, 

and the quilting is in squares of one 
half inch. Skill was required in ar- 
ranging the pattern, since each 
motif is not on separate squares 
that could be sewn together. In 
this case, the maker appliqued her 
pattern on nine squares of white 
muslin, each eighteen inches square. 
Sewn together, it made a piece one 
and one half yards each way. She 
then appliqued the four inner mo- 
tifs around the center one on the 
muslin already sewn together, and 
"dovetailed" her patterns. Twelve 
single tulips, facing in, were ap- 



pliqued around and completed the 
pattern. The border of tuhps and 
running band of green is twelve in- 
ches wide, making the entire quilt 
two yards and six inches square. 
The background quilting is in one- 
fourth inch squares, and the tulips 
and leaves are quilted around. On 
an applique quilt, no quilting 
should be on any of the pattern. 
Otherwise, the pattern could not 
stand out. 

Plate 5 shows a one-hundred- 
year-old quilt of four patches, each 
one yard square with a six inch 
border. The flowers are shaded 
from shell pink to turkey red, with 
green leaves and stems. 

Plate 6 is another four-patch 
quilt, with a red strip around the 
border to match the solid red cen- 
ter of each. The leaves are solid 
green. The quilting, which did not 
photograph well, is really elabor- 

TT is interesting in old quilts to 
find the similarity of designs. In 
Plate 1, for instance, the top center 
block is very similar to one called the 
eight-pointed star. In the same 



plate, the second from the top on 
the left is exactly like the one in 
The President's Wreath. It has 
been popular for the past hundred 

There is no end to names for 
quilts. The following I have gath- 
ered from country sales, museums, 
and stories on quilts. The very 
same may have different names in 
different parts of the country. They 
include: the Log Cabin, the Mill 
Wheel, Princess Feather, Oak Leaf 
and Tulip, Fox and Geese, Hen 
and Chickens, Grandma's Flower 
Garden, Indian Trail, Barn Raising, 
Variable Star, Evening Star, Star 
of Bethlehem, Pin Wheel, Bear's 
Paw, World Without End, Dutch- 
man's Puzzle, Chimney Sweep, 
Dolly Madison Star, Rocky Glen, 
Confederate Rose, Covered Wag- 
on, Cross and Crown, Jacob's Coat, 
Rose of Sharon, Rob Peter and Pay 
Paul, Doves in the Window, the 
Drunkard's Path, the Wheel of 
Fortune, Double Wedding Ring, 
Soldiers Return, and many, many 

Wilderness Road 

Willard Luce 

TFIERE are many little roads 
in Utah. They twist among 
the aspens and the pine and 
the fir. They crawl along the face 
of the mountains, looking down 
into the valleys and deserts. They 
wind through the sand, among the 
yucca and prickly pear. They drop 
into the deep, magnificent gorge of 
the Colorado River and creep be- 
tween the twisting river and the red 
sandstone ledges a thousand feet 

One of the most interesting of 
these is the Hite road. It climbs 
the plateaus from Richfield on 

Highway 89 and winds down into 
the flame-colored gorges. Part of 
this road is so new that it is not 
shown on many maps. Part of it is 
very old and traverses ancient In- 
dian trails. Part of it climbs up over 
8,000 feet, where the heavy snows 
keep it buried until late spring. Part 
of it drops down to 3,400 feet, and 
crosses the Colorado by ferry at 
Hite in the upper reaches of Glen 
Canyon near the mouth of Tra- 
chyte Creek, a northern tributary. 
Figs and pomegranates and other 
semi-tropical fruits arc raised here 
in a remote and sequestered paradise. 

Willnrd Luce 


Page 186 



Hite is the best known ford, and 
the only practical crossing for auto- 
mobiles, along that lonely and peril- 
ous stretch of river between Navajo 
Bridge over Marble Canyon in 
northern Arizona, and Moab in 
eastern Utah. And, although far 
from a straight line, it is the short- 
est distance between Capitol Reef, 
near Fruita, and the Natural Bridges 
National Monument, some forty- 
seven miles from Blanding in the 
southeastern corner of Utah. 

According to Western definition, 
a reef is an upthrust area with a cliff 
face; and that's a pretty good de- 
scription of Capitol Reef National 
Monument. The roadway follows 
along the base of the craggy reef, 
switching back and forth down a 
dry stream bed. It climbs up past 
the Chimney Rock, and on up to 
the edge of Mummy Cliff; then it 
drops back down again. 

At the bottom is Fruita, a small 
farming community in the heart of 
the Monument. The green of its 
fields and orchards makes a sharp 
contrast to the red sandstone ledges. 
In spring the peach and cherry and 
apricot blossoms offer an unforget- 
table sight against the green fields 
and red ledges. 

Six miles farther on, the road 
enters Capitol Gorge. Here huge 
sandstone chffs rise 1200 feet on 
either side of the chasm, which 
twists and turns, and finally squeez- 
es down to The Narrows. In this 
shadowed place the gorge is only 
eighteen feet wide, but the ledges 
still rise a thousand feet in the air. 
The road and the dry stream bed 
are one and the same, an excellent 
place not to be during a flash flood! 

AT Hanksville, the last town in 

this wilderness, the road turns 
south for several miles before swing- 
ing back towards the east and drop- 
ping down into North Wash. Down 
the wash, the road is rough. It 
crosses and recrosses the alkali-filled 
and cottonwood-lined watercourse. 
It bounces over the top of water- 
rounded stones, and wiggles through 
sand-filled stretches. And always it 
drops lower and lower, until it 
finally comes out onto the banks of 
the Colorado River, where the ele- 
vation is only 3,400 feet. 

The seven-mile drive downriver 
between the cliffs and the stream is 
a breath-taking experience, with the 
canyon walls swinging in to crowd 
against the river, then retreating. 
The willows and the tamarisk hug 
the water's edge, while the desert 
primrose and prickly pear blossom 
on the rocky hillsides. It's an in- 
tensely colored country, a rugged, 
contrasting country. 

The Hite ferry is a toll ferry, a 
wooden barge propelled by a gaso- 
line engine. The great river at flood 
tide is 640 feet across, and its south- 
east brink is surmounted on the 
southeast side by an ancient stone 
fortress, standing aloof and lonely 
above the river. The ferry, in use 
all the year around, has been oper- 
ated at times by a woman— Mrs. 
Arthur Chaffin— an expert at guid- 
ing the heavy barge which carries 
dozens of trucks and cars across the 
river every day. 

After leaving the ferry the road 
climbs upwards again and crosses 
the rugged and mysterious White 
Canyon country forty-two miles to 
the Natural Bridges National Mon- 
ument. In the Monument there 
are three large and picturesque nat- 


ural bridges set roughly in a triangle, for the Capitol Building in Wash- 
three miles apart, thus making a ington, D. C. 
nine-mile hike in order to see them ^^^^ ^^^ bridges the road climbs 
all Besides the bridges, in this ^ ^^j ^ the strange moun- 
lofty chasm country, there are re- ^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^le Bear's Ears, 
mote and protected Indian ruins, ^^^ ^^ ^^^^ eu, Mountain, across 
ancient petroglyphs, and wonderful ^ ^^^^^^ ^^ Blanding and Utah 
scenery majestic in its loneliness Highway 47 
and isolation— reaches of rnckscape & ; ^/• 

which even yet have not been com. It's a good dirt road, this wilder- 

pletelv explored ^^ss road, but one not to be taken 

The Owachomo natural bridge is ^" ^?^ v^eathtx. It is best in any 

only a short distance from the road, ^^^her to take along extra water 

and is by far the best known of the ^^^^^ bedding, gas and patching and 

three. The Sipapu, however, is ^^P^"; materials for tires. It is a 

larger and more impressive, reveal- ^^^g^ ^^'^'^ I'^f^^ ^^*^ ^^"^^^^ 

ing the patient work of winds and grandeur-a road full of adventure, 

water over the long centuries. It stark beauty, and many surprises, 

has a span of 261 feet and arches 22 Respect this road for what it is, 

feet above the canyon floor. There and you'll have a once-in-a-lifetime 

is enough space beneath the bridge trip. 

Photograph on opposite page: The Narrows, Capitol Gorge, Capitol Reef National 
Monument, Utah. Photograph by Willard Luce. 

» ^ « 

Seen Jtfter cJkese c/mngs 

(Verses for The Relief Society Magazine) 
Rhea M. CarricI: 

Oh, little book, within your cover lies 
The truths of heaven bared before our eyes. 
There are beauties of earth and of the skies; 
The love of friends and happy family ties. 

Upon each page, some gracious, helpful thought — 
In poetry or prose, it matters not — 
God's plan to build a perfect life is taught; 
Nor can it fail when his advice is sought. 

Oh, little book, a clearer vision springs 

From growth in knowledge of all lovely things. 

Until the very heart itself takes wings 

And, merged with sister hearts, contentment bring? 

Your mission to the wodd has just begun. 
You cannot falter till the race is run 
And all God's children have become as one; 
Content, at last to say, "Thy will be done." 

My Paradise — Cowslip Hollow 

Emily Wilkeison 

THE sun came creeping slowly with it the pungent odor of sage- 
up the far side of the deep brush and the choking, fine dust 
blue mountains in the dis- from the beating of trails by many 
tance, filling the lowlands with mist hard hoofs. I hugged my little 
and shadow. The chill morning air lunch sack closer as the descent 
tickled my nostrils until I filled down the hill into the seep lands 
both lungs with the refreshing began. We slipped and slid over 
breath, driving away all slumber, the bare ledge that sloped gently, 
I dressed under the Balm of Gilead the weather-worn ridges affording 
trees, aware only of the early morn- the beasts a toehold, then, on down 
ing songs of the thousands of birds, the hillside we went, brushing 
There was the plaintive call of the roughly against the trees, and now- 
mourning dove that came from the and again curving about such sharp 
surrounding hills. A meadow lark, turns in the trail we fairly met our- 
just four yards away, sitting on the selves coming down, 
top of a fence post, soloed in turn. North Hollow offered patches of 
"Utah, Utah, Utah's a pretty little white and yellow clover, rich with 
place!" From the willows below sweet nectar, which the bees were 
the house came the great chorus of busy gathering and taking to a little 
blackbirds. dark hole in a ledge to store for 

As the sun peeped over the dark winter use. 

hills, changing the misty pink The tall patches of wiregrass 

clouds into bold golden-red, the grew thick where the courses of the 

chorus mounted into a glorious cli- small streamlets came creeping out 

max. Then the notes died sweetly of the ground, each, in its own turn, 

away, as the birds dismissed their slithering eastward until they all 

musical convention to go about united to form a little waterfall over 

their daily tasks. the last two ledges. There the 

The homeliness of chores about stream would run and hide again 

the farm never seemed to register in the soft sand that made up the 

their ugliness upon me, for my days valley below. There were the mel- 

were ushered in with music. ons we had planted between the 

I followed the long string of milk roots of gnarled cedar trees and 

cows along the north trail. The the ledge. The little vines today 

swishing of their tails, as they bat- were turning yellow. This, I knew, 

tied the natural pests of cows on a was a sign there were not the right 

warm summer day, kept rhythm things in the soil to raise melons, 

with the clicking of their heels and By noon the cows, my pony, and 

the steady ting, ting, of the bell on I had moved one more hollow to 

the lead cow. the south— Cowslip Hollow, so 

The heat was beginning to shim- called because of the large bed of 

mer up from the earth, bringing wild cowslips that clustered about 

Page 190 



the stream near the mouth of it. 
This hollow was my paradise. In it 
lived all anyone's imagination could 
create. There was little Yosemite 
Falls, which I used often for a 
shower bath. Not far from this, 
the great throne, on which one sat 
and imagined herself a queen. But 
best of all was the stage just below, 
with its organ behind it, its choir 
seats that tiered the whole hillside. 
When you were standing in the 
pit ready to conduct this choir, di- 
rectly behind you and half a mile 
across the valley, were the great red 
ledges to echo and amplify the 

I found a beautiful tapered wil- 
low, and with this I led my choir. 
I had learned to whisper, and the 
soprano would whisper back. I 
could, if I was careful, pitch every 
part, and the choir would sing, and 
then the red ledges would answer 
back. The hills would come alive, 
and all those seats would fill, and 
we would sing, and I would thrill 
from head to toe. 

This day, after my choir had ren- 
dered an anthem, and before the 
strains had fully died away, I 
turned and saw, sitting on his horse 
watching me, Duchesne George. 
His long black braids fell over each 
shoulder, and the familiar weather- 
beaten face smiled kindlv. He 

nodded and pointed to the hills 
above and behind me and said, 
'Tou make 'em all talk, make talk 

I smiled and nodded. Half for- 
getting my audience, I decided to 
play an organ interlude. I whis- 
pered, my hillside organ whispered, 
and far across the valley the red 
ledges whispered back. I went from 
note to note, releasing all I could 
remember of what the birds had 
told me in the early dawn. With 
the organ playing bird music, my 
great choir burst into song. I stood 
in my make-believe cathedral, a 
master of music, a composer of 
song. Again, as the last tremor of 
the organ was dying away, I looked 
behind me, for in my triumph I had 
forgotten the gentle Indian. He 
was gone. I could see him slowly 
riding south on the dusty road. 

The shadows of evening were 
gathering; already my cathedral was 
chill. I mounted my pony and 
started my charges up the hill. We 
pushed our way over the topmost 
ridge and came through the cluster 
of cedars. The Master Painter was 
dipping the western sky with deep 
purple and flecking it with crimson 
and gold. In the east, behind us, 
the cotton clouds were touched 
with pink, and they floated softly 
in the blue dome of the sky. 


Vesta N. Lukei 


An island shore 

To edge with foam, the sea 

Lies barren as a meadow with 

No tree. 

CA/oe Ca// JLater I Hakes uier (cywn sluiit LOestgns 

Chloe Call Later, Rigby, Idaho, who recently celebrated her sixty-fourth birthday, 
has designed many silk quilts and other articles of exquisite handwork. She is an 
artist in free-hand design, and no two of her quilts are alike. Her patterns range from 
lovable bunnies to a "proposal under a weeping willow tree." This love of artistic 
expression began when Mrs. Later was a girl in Primary, when she pieced blocks to 
make a quilt top and presented the finished article to a needy family in the ward. Her 
first baby quilt, or carriage robe, was made in 1928 for her first grandchild. Since that 
date she has designed and made over two hundred silk quilts. She has also assisted in 
making hundreds of quilts in Relief Society and has directed the making of many 
other quilts. A soft, golden silk quilt is now being completed by Mrs. Later in an- 
ticipation of the graduation of one of her granddaughters. Each of her children, and 
every married grandchild has, to this date, received one of her lovely silk quilts. Mrs. 
Later's talents and industry also extend to many other types of handwork, including 
crocheting, embroidery, and the making of exquisite bags and greeting cards. 

Mrs. Later has served in all of the Church auxiliary organizations, except the 
Sunday School. Her Relief Society activities have been extensive, including eight 
years as work director for Rigby Stake Relief Society, five years as president in Bremer- 
ton, Washington, ten years as a member of the sewing committee in Rigby Second 
Ward, and thirty-six years as a visiting teacher. Mrs. Later is mother to nine chil- 
dren, grandmother to eighteen, and great-grandmother to two. She also does gen- 
ealogy work and sings in the ward and stake choirs. 



Dora Toone Brough 

Prayer is a key God gave to us 
Whereby we might commune with him; 
To seek for wisdom, peace, and truth. 
And keep faith's light from growing dim. 

Page 192 

Willard Luce 

Jt (bunnen Viyindow (garden 

Ceiia Luce 

jV/fORE and more new homes are being built with basement rumpus or recreation 
-^ ■*■ rooms. But, unless the house is built into the hillside, the basement windows 
are usually tiny and in the basement wall, with the natural lighting having all the 
charm of a first-class dungeon. If the house is built to provide for large basement 
windows, it looks like a house on stilts. 

A sunken garden adjacent to the basement window solves the problem beautifully. 
It allows for a large window in the basement room. It also presents a beautiful view 
from the inside. On eye level are the tops of the flowers, making them seem as 
though they were a part of the room. Behind the flowers, the retaining wall makes 
a lovely pattern background, and beyond is a glimpse of the rest of the garden. 

The light from the large window makes the basement room as livable as the 
rooms upstairs. 

From the outside, the sunken garden adds a delightful surprise to your landscaping. 
The retaining wall hides the flowers until one is very close, then a blaze of hidden 
flower beauty is suddenly discovered. 

Page 193 

Today I Reveal Them 

Rose A. Openshaw 


O one can steal the treasures of 
my childhood, which I have 
kept locked in a jewelled box in a 
remote corner of my heart. The 
jewels are composed of hope and 
joy and tears, and today, for the 
first time, I shall take them out one 
by one and reveal them. 

Some of them, perhaps, may 
strike an echo in your own soul, 
for no doubt you have treasures that 
are quite similar. 

These treasures are priceless; and 
while once they were concrete acts 
or objects or words, through mem- 
ory they have resolved themselves 
into cherished scenes or pictures, 
and of these was the fulness of my 
childhood composed. 

It was composed of being carried 
on my father's shoulders to church, 
until the gash in my foot, cut on 
broken glass in a stream, mended; 
or of mother holding the injured 
part over a plate of live coals, from 
which smoke from burning sugar 
twirled and swirled upward, to cure 

Of finding a beautiful doll with 
brown hair and eyes on the only 
Christmas tree we ever had, long 
stockings hung from mantels over 
the fireplace being the usual order. 
Of hugging in rapture the wooden 
cradle my father in his tenderness 
made for my doll. 

Or being unable to play, or scarce- 
ly to eat when mother's head ached; 
and of worrying and praying for her 
all the day long, when she made the 
horse and buggy trips to Phoenix, 
for sometimes the horse was balky 
and she might get hurt! 

Page 194 

Of corn-roasts in which neighbors 
of all ages took part, and of the 
glorious game of ''Run-Sheep-Run," 
played by all of us afterwards. 

Of my chum and I being com- 
mended by our teachers for "al- 
ways being prepared," and so priv- 
ileged for out-of-door study. Of the 
fig tree between our homes where 
we nailed a box and daily placed 
notes when we couldn't visit each 

Of being surprised, when I was 
ill, by the gift, from my sister Delta, 
of a gorgeous jade velvet hood, lace- 
decorated in ecru, for my doll, 
which has endeared my sister to 
me through all the long years that 
have followed. 

Of helping my brother Frank lo- 
cate and repair weak places in 
fences, working with redoubled en- 
ergy after his words of praise that 
I was better help than the boys 
he had had. 

Of getting up entertainments, 
aided by my chum, to which the 
entire village paid a nickel admis- 
sion charge. Much of the program, 
of dialogues, tableaux, readings, and 
welcoming speeches was composed 
by ourselves. 

Of being present for a campfire 
meal just as the desert's shadows 
were growing purple-faced from 
stretching their long limbs before 
retiring, and of smelling the aroma 
of potatoes, onions, and bacon 
stewing together, and the fragrance 
of hot bread fresh from a bake- 

Of standing around with my lit- 



tie friends wondering if any food 
would be left, when the General 
Authorities from Salt Lake, or the 
county school superintendent, were 
served hot biscuits, mashed pota- 
toes, stewed chicken, and gravy, and 
creamy rice pudding (as only mv 
mother could make), and the table 
refused to accommodate all at one 

r\F tying, with my chum, in a 
Book of Mormon chapter-read- 
ing contest, and winning a beautiful, 
pearl-handled pen. 

Of picking turkeys, both at 
Thanksgiving and Christmas, to 
earn money for Christmas presents 
for my parents. (Hard was the work 
for tender hands.) Of sponsoring 
sewing clubs so we could make pin- 
cushions and other items for gifts 
out of scraps of silks and ribbons. 
It was such joy to give! 

And of my most dreaded task of 
all— taking milk five miles away to 
the dairy in the old buckboard 
(buggy) mornings. Five miles dis- 
tant the dairy stood, and there was 
much to intimidate a small girl 
along the way. 

Of gathering plums with the first 
tint of rose on their cheeks and 
burying them in a shallow hole in 
the moist earth, supposed to hasten 
ripening, then of digging them 
every day to see if they had ma- 

Of helping my married sister, 
Etta, whose health was poor, with 
her laundry and dishes, and keeping 
her company nights, homesick to 
the core of my being for mother, 

with our house less than a block 

Of riding to a Phoenix circus in 
the back of a wagon— seeing the 
strange animals and the unbeliev- 
able performance, and being treated 
at the noon-hour to what seemed 
a meal of meals— baker's bread and 

Of visiting the ostrich farm in 
Phoenix, seeing the long, graceful 
plumes milliners fastened together 
to adorn hats and of seeing the 
huge, ivory-colored, massive-shelled 
eggs firsthand. 

And of the incomparable happi- 
ness of hunting the first wild 
flowers of spring. Oh, the exulta- 
tion that swelled my heart in the 
joy of discovering the fragile, fra- 
grant blooms! Comparable it is to- 
day to finding glorious truths 
concealed in the tall green grass 
of books and sermons. Yet while 
these shall live on eternally, the 
flowers wilted before we finished 
our mile-long trek! 

Too, how we thrilled to the love- 
liness of the first tiny eggs in the 
well-woven, basket-like nests, hid- 
den away in the leaf-fluffy trees. 

Oh, mine was a happy childhood 
—a happy, carefree existence, and 
made more so by the knowledge 
of the abiding love and unity exist- 
ing between my parents, for never 
to my knowledge, did one unkind 
word ever pass between them. And 
I thank them— thank the dear ones 
from the bottom of my heart for 
saving me the heartaches, the stab- 
bing grief and pain that would have 
cut so deeply into tender hearts had 
it been otherwise. 


The Deeper Melody 

Chapter 6 
Alice Money Bailey 

Synopsis: Steven Thorpe, a widower 
with three small children, is in love with 
Margaret Grain, a registered nnrse who has 
taken care of his baby during an attack 
of pneumonia. Margaret's mother, a wid- 
ow, is temporarily acting as Steven's 
housekeeper, gnd Margaret has accepted 
the position of night superintendent at 
the hospital until her marriage to Dr. Rex 
Harmon. In the meantime Steven has 
been made vice-president of the Pikes 
Peak Machinery Company and finds him- 
>self unwillingly accepting invitations from 
Miss Tate, his secretary. One night as 
Steven and Miss Tate are leaving the 
theatre they meet Margaret and Dr. Har 

STEVE had never seen Margaret 
out of uniform before, and he 
noticed how stunning she was, 
a second before he recognized her. 
From looking coldly elegant beside 
her partner, she suddenly turned 
radiant when she saw Steve. 

''Steve!'' she said, ''Steve Thorpe/' 

Her greeting was so warm and 
friendly that her partner eyed him 
with suspicion, and he felt Miss 
Tate stiffen at his side. He intro- 
duced her to Margaret. 

"Rex, this is Steve Thorpe, little 
Phyllis' father." 

The two men shook hands civilly. 
Steve commented, 'T thought you 
were on duty at this time of night," 
and she answered: "My night off!" 

That was all. Certainly it wasn't 
enough to set free a strange hope 
in Steve's heart— a hope that flew on 
stunted wings and floundered to im- 
potence. All night long he argued 
with himself that her look of glad 
recognition was nothing more than 

Page 196 

the cordial greeting of a friend, and 
all night he was haunted by it. He 
admitted ruefully, to himself, that 
Dr. Harmon was a distinguished 
looking man, in a distinguished pro- 
fession, and was a perfect compli- 
ment of her chic beauty. 

"When is this wedding?" he 
asked Mrs. Grain next morning at 


"Yes, Margaret's. Exactly what 

"It will be on a Monday— two 
weeks from tomorrow," informed 
Mrs. Grain. "Hadn't you better be 
doing something about replacing 

"I can't replace you, Mother 
Grain," said Steve. He should have 
been thinking of that, the effect on 
his children, when Mrs. Grain would 
be gone and he had to plunge into 
the nightmare of a new regime. In- 
stead, he had been thinking of him- 
self—with Margaret lost to him for- 
ever, and his heart lunged in panic 
at the few days left. 

"The children haven't taken to 
Mrs. Hall a bit, and I have only one 
more week with them, you know. 
Steve, you ought to get married." 

"So I've heard," said Steve cryp- 
tically. "Any suggestions as to the 

"That Miss Tate would marry 
you at the drop of a hat!" 

"I don't love Miss Tate, nor does 
she love me for that matter." 

"I wouldn't be surprised if you 
married her, or she married you. 



just the same," said Mrs. Grain 

It stirred fury in Steve. "Mrs. 
Grain/' he said, '1 have been ad- 
\'ised a number of times to remarry. 
Each time my advisor has said the 
same as you say, you should remarry. 
Each has neglected to suggest that 
I fall in love again. I have always 
had an idea that two people should 
love each other, in order to marry. 
Perhaps I am old-fashioned or ju- 
venile in my thinking. Perhaps I 
should be set straight on this." 

ly/fRS. Grain sat up and looked at 
Steve in surprise. *'My land! 
You're just as right as you can be, 
Steve. I know I would feel the same, 
even at my age, if I were consider- 
ing getting married, but here I go 
advising you to just get married, 
without any feeling at all, just as a 
matter of convenience." She put 
her chin in her hand, considering. 
"Still, I know literally hundreds of 
couples who are married who don't 
really love each other," she went on. 
"Some of them respect each other, 
though, and it seems to work out 
pretty well. Maybe you ought to 
think of that, Steve. You do need 
a wife— and your little ones need a 
mother. Maybe you will never love 
again, and . . . ." 

"I do love again, Mrs. Grain, and 
anything less is not good enough 
for me. I love your daughter. I 
love Margaret." 

"So you love Margaret," Mrs. 
Grain said after a long moment. 
"I might have known." 

'Tou see how hopeless it is?" 
"Does Margaret know this?" 
'^Gertainly not. She has enough 
to think about, without me being 
a nuisance to her." 

"It is never a nuisance for a 
woman to know a man loves her." 

"You can't be serious! At this 
late date? It was already too late 
when I met her. You know that." 

"I don't know any such thing— 
but it will be in two more weeks." 

"What are you saying?" A pulse 
was thudding heavily in Steve. 
"What would Margaret say to all 

"I haven't the slightest idea," said 
Mrs. Grain coolly. "But I think 
any girl has the right to choose be- 
tween the men who love her." 

"Of course!" agreed Steve, direct- 
ly hit by her logic. He went swift- 
ly to the telephone and called Mar- 
garet. Her sleepy voice ran through 
his veins like an electric shock. 

"I have to see you, Margaret." 

"Is anything wrong? Phyllis? 

"Everyone is fine. Gould I come 
and see you right away?" 

"Steve!" There was a long si- 
lence, then her voice came small 
and miserable. "I'm sorry. Dr. Har- 
mon is free today. He'll be here 
for me in half an hour." 

"This afternoon, then? Before 
you go on duty?" 

"We're going for a drive. We'll 
not be back until barely time for 
me to get into my uniform." 

"How about tonight, when you 
come off duty?" Steve persisted. 

"He's picking me up then." 

"Is there any time when I can 
see you?" 

"Saturday. It's my day off . . . ." 

"This won't wait until Saturday," 
said Steve desperately. 

"Gan't you tell me now, over the 
phone?" Margaret suggested. "Give 
me some idea what you have in 



*'It concerns you and me, Mar- 
garet, and I don't want to discuss 
it over the telephone." 

'1 think Vd better not see you— 
at all," said Margaret, her voice sud- 
denly weak. 

''As you wish/' said Steve through 
stiff lips, and hung up, his hope de- 

"I^THY had her voice changed? 
Why had she not made some 
way for him to see her? Steve was 
sure she could have. Had she 
guessed his message? Of course she 
had, and certainly she wouldn't 
want to see him. He was a fool to 
hope, anyway. What woman in her 
right mind would want a man with 
a family of children, the position of 
being a second wife? 

Still, Steve himself had rather 
rosy prospects. Being vice-president 
of PPMC was no small thing, and 
J. T. had assured him that he would 
not only become its president, but 
its eventual owner. Nevertheless, 
Steve felt anything but secure. It 
depended solely upon him— if he 
could increase his capacity to cover 
all the responsibilities, and he was 
not sure he could. Some inward 
adversity seemed to dog him since 
he acquired his new status, some 
loss of self-assurance, and he won- 
dered if the seeds of eventual fail- 
ure were deep within him. 

He studied, he worked, he went 
over old ledgers and old methods, 
crammed on facts about their clien- 
tele. He knew selling and business 
management all right, and had a 
pretty good knowledge of machin- 
ery, but he soon learned that the 
head of a company must know 
every man's job almost better than 
he did himself. The company was 

staffed with experts, so Steve spent 
hours in each department, not spar- 
ing himself. Each morning he 
went forth determined to be fully 
adequate for the day's requirements, 
but each night's appraisal left much 
to be desired in his own opinion. 

Some of it, he knew, stemmed 
from his domestic problem, fear and 
concern for his children, their rear- 
ing with hired help, and some of 
it, most surely, was a result of his 
frustrated love for Margaret, and of 
his shock in finding in himself the 
ability to love again, with the alter- 
nate fire and ice of hope and despair. 
Now, after this morning's conver- 
sation with her, she seemed again 
completely beyond his reach. 

The work into which he had re- 
solved to plunge was there waiting 
for him when he arrived; the men 
had already started to load the 
heavy machinery of a new order on- 
to the flatcars. Steve charged into 
J. T.'s office. 

''I thought you said we'd change 
that cable before we started loading 
another order," he said furiously. 

"Steve, but do you realize this 
is the Kettle Creek machinery we're 
loading— and it's several weeks over- 
due now." 

''I don't care whose machinery it 
is," said Steve. ''If you don't give 
the order to stop it, I will." 

"You give it then," said J. T. 
softly. "I wondered just how long 
before you would. I have been 
watching you, boy. You've been 
addled a lot of times when your 
mind should have been clear, and 
your stand firm. You're still think- 
ing in terms of a salesman. A word 
to the foreman the minute you saw 
that cable needed fixing, would 
have done it. In fact, he should 



have seen it and told you. I was 
beginning to be a mite disappoint- 
ed in the future head of the com- 

'Tou mean you were baiting me 
all along?" Steve demanded hotly. 
''And if so, why do it when men's 
lives are in danger?" 

"You don't test a man in extrem- 
ity without an extremity/' said J. T. 

"You old walrus!" Steve took 
time to say before he went down 
the ramp to stop the crane. 

JT was too late, for even as he lift- 
ed his arm to signal, the cable 
broke, plunging a roll-crusher sick- 
eningly between the flatcar and the 
dolley. Fortunately for Sam Dil- 
lon, who was directly underneath, 
the edge of the car broke the fall, 
or he would have been killed in- 
stantly. As it was his upper thigh 
was struck. 

The men were organized in saf- 
ety, and it was only a few amazing 
seconds until an ambulance was 
there and Sam was on the way to 
the hospital. Steve ran for his car 
and followed. 

The day was a nightmare of wait- 
ing outside Sam's door, breaking the 
news to Sam's wife, comforting her, 
waiting outside the operating room 
while Sam was in surgery, but Sam 
finally woke up from the anaes- 
thesia to give him a wavery grin. 

"The doctor says you're going to 
be all right, guy," he said. "We'll 
take care of the family, so don't 

worry/' , 

Then Steve decided he wouldn t 
leave because an accident had 
brought him to Margaret's hospital, 
and at three o'clock she would be 
on duty somewhere within it. He 
was going to see her whether she 

wished him to or not. He curbed 
himself to wait until three-twenty 
so that any business might be 
cleared away, then he sought the 
main floor and the door marked 
"Superintendent of Nurses/' 

She was at her desk, and, mirac- 
ulously alone. She looked up from 
her work and joy flooded her face. 

"Steve!" she said, rising and put- 
ting an impulsive hand out to him, 
a hand which Steve tried not to 
crush. "Steve, how nice to see 
you." He saw her remember that 
morning's conversation, and then 

"It is good," said Steve, searching 
her face. It was as he remembered 
it, the clean line of her jaw, the 
wide, clear brown brows beneath 
the white wing of her cap, the 
smooth skin and the sweet upturn 
of her mouth. Light from a nearby 
window made her eyes seem a 
translucent blue, her teeth translu- 
cent pearl, when she smiled, and 
touched a satin patch on one cheek 
where Steve longed to kiss. "It was 
very good— so good that I had to 
see you again. Have you forgot- 
ten us?" 

"Oh, no, not forgotten. I think 
of you a great deal— and the babies, 
but I thought it best for me and 
for the children— and for you, Steve, 
for me not to come again/' 

Oh! So she had guessed, just as 
he thought, and was trying to dis- 
courage his romantic intentions. 
Well, it was too late for that. "I 
can't forget you, Margaret. My 
house is haunted by you. I have to 
talk to you. Right now." 

"I'm on duty, Steve," she hedged. 
"The hospital rules . . . /' 
"I have to break down a barrier 



somewhere. It might as well be 
hospital rules!" 

"pOR answer she picked up the 
telephone. ''Don't disturb me 
except for an emergency/' she told 
the operator. She went over and 
closed her door, drew up a chair 
for Steve, and resumed her seat be- 
hind her desk. 

"Now/* she said, ''go ahead." 
Steve was suddenly disconcerted. 
Now that he had his way, he was 
overwhelmed with doubts. This 
was not the time nor the place to 
tell Margaret his love. It was cer- 
tainly not the circumstances he 
wanted. He had imagined hours 
of conversation preceding his decla- 
ration. If he must blurt it out in 
these sterile surroundings, this 
clinical atmosphere, what little 
chance it had would come to noth- 

On the other hand, if all her free 
time was devoted to Dr. Harmon, 

and she was avoiding him, and 
would not see him voluntarily, this 
moment loomed up as his single 
opportunity. This most important 
moment of his life was threatened 
every moment with interruption, 
threatened by this fear which para- 
lyzed his tongue. J. T.'s words came 
starkly to him ''. . . you have been 
addled a lot of times when your 
mind should have been clear." 
There came to him a deep truth, 
the race is already lost to the timid, 
the doubtful, the ones lacking in 

Margaret was watching him, and 
he realized he had been gazing at 
her while he thought. He took a 
deep breath and straightened in his 
chair, acting a courage which he 
did not feel. 

"I came to tell you that I love 
you," he said. "I want you to be 
my wife." 

{To he continued) 

I Horning Sds uier 'Jjehght 

Lael W. Hill 

Morning is her delight — she wakens smiling, 
Barefoot, she dances over the dawn-cool floor; 
She runs from one room to another, eager, calling 
In formless words, finding new day every^vhe^e. 

Still in her small white gown, she slips out softly; 
Sky is no brighter than her sky-bright eyes. 
Only the breeze can touch a leaf more deftly; 
Sparrows turn toward her laugh, lawn tickles her toes. 

Captured at last into shoes and a dress for playing, 
Given the usual toys (soon scattered and spilled) 
She watches for sun through windows with curtains blownig 
Morning is her dehght, she is morning's child. 


Margaret C. Pickering, General Secretar}^- Treasurer 

All inaterial submitted for publication in this department should be sent through 
stake and mission Relief Societ}' presidents. See regulations governing the submittal 
of material for ''Notes From the Field" in the Magazine for April 1950, page 278, and 
the Handbook oi Instructions, page 123. 


Photograph submitted by Elizabeth H. Zimmerman 

AT BAZAAR, November 7, 1953 

Left to right: John Felt, modeling boy's suit; Paula Fairbanks, wearing a house- 
coat; Lynn Car, wearing a jumper and jacket; Dianne Armstrong, wearing a skirt and 
waistcoat; Brenda Prince, wearing a party dress. 

One hundred fifty pieces of children's clothing were made for this bazaar, held 
in the Edmonton meetinghouse. Six other display sections were represented, including 
eighty aprons, fourteen quilts, 180 pounds of chocolates, several pieces of linens, 106 
novelties, and six hundred cookbooks. Relief Society presidents are: Melba McMul- 
lin, Edmonton First Branch, and Hattie Jensen, Edmonton Second Branch. 

Elizabeth H. Zimmerman is president of the Western States Mission Relief Society. 

Page 201 



l^hotograph submitted by JennaVee Hall 



Photograph taken at the opening social, September 29, 1953 

Front row, left to right: Celia Jacobson; Elda Haycock; Bishop Gold; President 
Venice Prince; Secretary Eileen Low; Second Counselor Elaine Pugmire; First Coun- 
selor Blanche Allred; Chariot Watson, visiting teacher message leader. 

Second row, left to right: Flora Chatterton; Wilma Larson; Nora Barlogi; Stella 
Farnsworth; Ethel Boyer; Twila Bendorf; Helen Allen; Lavern Allen. 

Third row, left to right: Odetta Stringer; Alta Sherwood; Donna Claiborne; 
Thelma Green; Edna Kenitzer; Iris Pugmire; Rella Finch; Georgia Clark, 

JennaVee Hall is president of Gooding Stake Relief Society. 

Photograph submitted by Anna H. Toone 


November 7, 1953 

Anna H. Toone, President, Canadian Mission Relief Society, reports that this con- 
ference was unusually successful: "We had 185 Relief Society sisters in attendance. 



I^rom the two branches Timmins and Sault St. iMarie twelve sisters traveled one thou- 
sand miles to attend this conference. Some of these had never been in a Latter-day 
Saint meetinghouse before, as they had met in little groups of from twenty to forty 
members. There were two sessions held, and lunch was served. A display of hand- 
work and welfare from the various branches was exhibited. It was a glorious occasion; 
the spirit of the Lord was present in rich abundance. Those who were present were 
enthusiastic and stimulated in Relief Society work." 

Photograph submitted by Muriel S. Wallis 


October 1953 

Left to right: Vera Olsen, President; Viola Goodrich, First Counselor; Cora Cook, 
work meeting leader; Stella Sadleir, Second Counselor. 

As a summer sewing project the members of Davis Ward Relief Society made 
121 different types of articles from colorful feed bags. These articles were displayed 
at the county and State fairs. They were then sold at the Relief Society bazaar. This 
unusually successful project was outstanding in the great variety of useful articles made 
and the fine spirit of co-operation developed among the sisters. 

Muriel S. Wallis is president of Uintah Stake Relief Society. 



Photograph submitted by Elsie J. Brinkerhoff 


Front row, seated, left to right: Lillian B. Carroll (1924-27); Martha Porter (1927- 
33); Lucy H. Esplin (1933-36); Chastie Esplin (1936-40); Mercy Chamberlain (1940- 


Back row, standing, left to right: Bessie E. Brooksby (1944-46); Velma B. Car- 
roll (1947-49); Mahalia T. Sorensen (1947-1949); Arvilla J. Heaton (1949-1950) and 
1952 - ); Helen A. Neilson (1950-52). 

Inserts: left, Helen Jane Palmer (1917-21), now a resident of St. George; right, 
Emma Seegmiller Higbee (1904-17), now a resident of Cedar City. 

All of these women, except the two last mentioned, who have moved away, are 
still loyal and active members of the Orderville Relief Society. 

Elsie J. Brinkerhoff is president of Kanab Stake Relief Society. 

Photograph submitted by Helen B. Walker 


Front row, seated at the left: Kezia McDonald and Marie Ames; at right: 
Margaretta Coffin and Ruth Morgan. 


Second row, standing, left to right; Martha Richards; Elizabeth Rupp; Mary 
Breedlove; Bertha Meyers; Ahee Hayball; Sarah Gray; Anna Belnap; Harriett Peterson; 
Lilhe Reddish; Margaret Norman; Gertrude Watson; Necha Barron; Eliza Jackson; 
Agnes Whitmore; Lucy Richards. 

Third row, standing, left to right: Bertha Pieper, First Counselor; Helen Walker, 
President, Pocatello Stake Relief Society; Hermoine Horton, Second Counselor. 

At a party given to honor the visiting teachers of the stake, special recognition 
was accorded to these sisters, all of them o\'er seventy-five years of age. A short his- 
tory of the Relief Society service of each woman was given and each was presented 
with a corsage. 

SX^ay ^JJown cJ^ aside 

A'largaret Luiidstrom 

i'i'nnHERE'S a homely little fellow!" The woman in front of me nudged her com- 
•■■ panion as she spoke. 

*'I should say so!" came the reply. "Like a mud fence, he is." 

Jimmy walked on across the stage, his straight little body intent as he carried the 
Cub Scout banner proudly. 

Is Jimmy homely? I wondered. I'd never thought so. And if Tom had, he'd 
nc\cr told me. Wouldn't we know, when we'd looked at him every day for eight years? 

Think of the way he got up in the morning, his eyes bright from sleep as he 
chirped. "Good morning. Mother, I loxe. you!"; or the smile he gave the doctor when 
he was told he had the mumps, and it was the day before the school picnic. 

"It hurts so much to smile," he said, his voice a whisper, since it had to squeeze 
past the lump in his throat, "that I guess I couldn't probably stand it to cry, so that's 
why I'm not." 

And the day Annie left the gate open, and the puppy got out, and the busy street 
with its inevitable car. I dreaded telling him, piling his heartache and tears on top of 
my own. But he put his arm about my shoulders and rubbed his snubby, freckled nose 
against my cheek and whispered, "That's all right. Mommy. Don't cry." 

I looked again at Jimmy as he stood there on the stage, over at one side, now. 
And when I looked at the backs of the women in front of me, and I thought: you don't 
really see Jimmy. If you did .... 

And all the way home, walking along the shaded streets with his plump, sticky 
little fingers entwined through mine, I kept trying to think of something. Something 
like "Beauty is only skin deep," only, of course, that wasn't it. The irony of it made 
me chuckle. Jimmy's fingers squeezed mine and his round face turned up to me. 

"You're laughing at yourself, aren't you. Mom?" 

"Yes. But how'd you know?" 

He skipped twice on one foot, and scuffed a stray leaf from the toe of one shoe. 

"We-e-11 . . ." he drawled thoughtfully, "it came from way down inside you." 
He skipped again. "And it was quiet, like nobody else had to hear if they didn't want 

It was after that, maybe a dozen steps nearer home, that I felt the pity. It was 
a heavy thing in my chest, and it was for those two women who had sat in front of me 
who hadn't been able to see a little boy's beautiful heart because it lay behind a plain, 
little face. 






Eastertide — Protheroe 75 

Eastertide — Avery 75 

From Darkness to Light- 


. Glory to Easter (Two Part) 
— Norman 80 

Life Eternal — Holton 

Memories of Easter Morn 
— Lorenz 



— Music Sent on Approval — 

Use this advertisement as your order blank 


45-47 South Main 
Salt Lake City 1, Utah 

Please send the music indicated above. 

D On Approval □ Charge 

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OUTH I ^J§ji * 

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Ujathrootn cJncks 

Potted Plants In the Bathroom 
Elizabeth Williamson 

Bathrooms become enriched and more 
attractive by adding small pots of flowers 
or leafy plants. A metal container on the 
tile dressing table is especially effective. The 
most charming effect is a philodendron 
which grows up and across the top of the 
room, or around the dressing table. 

uiurra cKc 

urry CTLome 

Elsie McKinnon Strachan 

Someone fashioned for loving 
Is waiting your return, 
Cheering the place 
With diminutive grace 
And sweet, blue-eyed concern. 

Someone heart-warmed and fragrant, 
Petal-soft and new, 
Has come to stay 
And spends all day 
Reminding me of you. 

Page 206 

^Jonghten the C^orner Wkere (Jou Jxi 

Cawline Eyring Miner 


TT was one good man's philosophy that one was never fully dressed until he had 
•*■ "put on a smile." Since I was a child and learned to sing lustily, "Little Purple 
Pansies," with the lines: "We are very tiny, but must tr)', try, try, just one spot 
to gladden, you and I," I have believed with all my heart that it was our very great 
responsibility to be cheerful and thus to lighten the burdens of those about us. 

It is not nearly so important in life what happens to us as the way we take what 
happens to us. Some people have the happy faculty of making steppingstones out of 
obstacles, and some have the great misfortune of making mountains of trouble out of 

My mother had sheer genius for living a gloriously complete and happy life in 
the midst of poverty and adversity. As a little girl, she tried to work her "Happy Game" 
on her younger brothers and sisters. Living in Mexico in the early days of Latter-day 
Saint colonization was very difficult, and sometimes the families were hungry. I have 
heard my uncle tell how mother would say to him, "Now, Thomas, you know you've 
had all the pancakes you could eat. You've really had plenty," and he had nodded 
assent, although he hardly knew why. 

Mother has seen good in everything that has come to her, and so has been re- 
markably cheerful and has cheered others. Her humble home has always been to her 
the most wonderful home a person could ever have, her children the kindest and most 
considerate, her town the most friendly. And so they were to her. She saw the silver 
lining while it was still dark to others. 

"It's the songs ye sing and the smiles ye wear that are making the sunshine every- 
where." In the midst of sorrow and confusion, it would be well for each person to feel 
a personal responsibility to "put on a smile" and "make a little sunshine wherever 
he goes." 

Spring C/antasy 

Veida Mackay 

If you're searching for adventure 
You needn't go away; 
You'll find it in your own back yard 
On any fine spring day. 

Start looking at the butterflies 
Awhirl like colored snow, 
Walk softly through the slender grass 
The gentle breezes blow. 

So linger in the sun-warmed light. 
You'll know true peace of mind. 
It's the best form of adventure 
That anvone can find. 

(!:yur cJown 

Evelyn F/e7dsted 

The past records that once our town 
Could be circled by a morning ride. 
Yucca lily plots and cactus beds 
Thrived in dust storms far and wide. 

With guided streams, wild sagebrush tracts 
Became a land where sunlight fell 
On homes and fields that were enclosed 
By hills that formed a citadel. 

The hawk still hangs aloof in skies 
That bend above tranquility; 
The prairie wolf is heard no more — 
Our town has walked with destiny. 

Page 207 

Orchard in M 


Eva WiJ/es Waugsgaaid 

A thousand constellations 
Have made this plum tree white 
A Milky Way of fragranee 
Has paused on earth tonight. 

The apricot is festooned 
With living Pleiades, 
And never stars of heaven 
More radiant than these. 

And light was never whiter 
Than this syringa hedge, 
And never was there cherry 
To swear a whiter pledge. 

More white than hills of winter 
This fragrant living snow, 
More luminous than Stardust, 
More warm than moonlight glow 



Three 1954 Conducted 


Sails from San Francisco April 19 
From Los Angeles May 24 


Leaves Salt Lake City July 21 


Leaves Salt Lake City August 6 

The HISTORIC TRAIN includes: 
Shrines of the Church, the Pageant ot 
the Hill Cumorah, and many large 
eastern cities. 

For complete details write or phone: 


966 E. So. Temple— Telephone 4-2017 
Salt Lake City, Utah 

Page 208 

The popularity of on 

Electric Clothes Dryer 

is skyrocketing! 

Buy From Your Dealer 

B» rhriftr-Use lletUidty 


The T^ride of 
Your X^ibrary! 

Your Relief Society Magazines when hand- 
somely hound into permanent yearly volumes 
acquire new value as excellent reference books. 

$2.50 (Cloth Binding) 
$3.50 (Leather Binding) 
Per Volume 
If necessary to mail them to you, the follow- 
ing postage rates will apply. 

Distance from 

Salt Lake City, Utah Rate 

Up to 150 miles 25 

150 to 300 miles 28 

300 to 600 miles 34 

600 to 1000 miles 42 

1000 to 1400 miles 51 

1400 to 1800 miles 60 

Over 1800 miles 69 

Leave them at our conveniently located uptown 

Deseret News Press 

31 Richards St. Salt Lake City, Utah 

Phone 4-2581 

The Way lb 






Joseph Fielding Smith 

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VOL. 41 NO. 4 

Jal Short Story Issue 


Monthly Publication of the Relief Society of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints 

Belle S. Spafford ------ President 

Marianne C. Sharp ----- First Counselor 

Velma N. Simonsen ----- Second Counselor 

Margaret C. Pickering ----- Secretary-Treasurer 

Mary G. Judd Evon W. Peterson Christine H. Robinson Charlotte A. Larsen 

Anna B. Hart Leone O. Jacobs Alberta H. Christensen Edith P. Backman 

Edith S. Elliott Mary J. Wilson Mildred B. Eyring Winniefred S. 

Florence J, Madsen Louise W. Madsen Helen W. Anderson Manwaring 

Leone G. Layton Aleine M. Young Gladys S. Boyer Elna P. Haymond 

Blanche B. Stoddard Josie B. Bay 


Editor ----------- Marianne C. Sharp 

Associate Editor --------- Vesta P. Crawford 

General Manager --------- Belle S. Spafford 

Vol. 41 APRIL 1954 NO. 4 


on tents 


The Resurrection of Jesus Marion G. Romney 212 

Join the Crusade Against Cancer Sandra Munsell 228 

Nevada's Valley of Fire Willard Luce 236 

Double Beauty Lena Woodbury 237 

Participation in Relief Society Can Help Achieve True Happiness Edith Kaneko 259 

"Within Our Reach" Donna Day 262 


The Best Years of Her Life Pansye H. Powell 216 

What It Takes Kay Islaub 223 

Second Best Blanche Sutherland 229 

The Part-Time Heart Hannah Smith 248 


The Deeper Melody — Chapter 7 Alice Morrey Bailey 266 


S-ixty Years Ago 238 

Woman's Sphere Ramona W. Cannon 239 

Editorial: Arbor Day Velma N. Simonsen 240 

Nellie W. Neal Resigns from the General Board 241 

Notes to the Field: "A Centenary of Relief Society" Out of Print 242 

Book of Mormon Reading Project 242 

Prelude Music Florence Jepperson Madsen 243 

Books for Organists and Pianists 244 

Notes From the Field: Relief Society Activities Margaret C. Pickering 268 

From Near and Far 280 


Summer Fireplace Elizabeth Williamson 245 

Let Your Table Tell a Story Helen S. Williams 246 

Gardening for the Home Freezer C. W. McCullough 253 

New Designs for Easter Eggs 256 

Handwork Hobbies Bring Happiness (Rose Paskett Cooke Thompson) 258 

TV Viewers — Down in Front Eloise Strinz 265 


"Even the Moonlight," — Frontispiece, by Eva Willes Wangsgaard, 211; "Stanzas on Light," 
by Mar^hale Woolsey, 215; "Forever Mine," by Delia Adams Leitner, 222; "The First Spring 
Crocus, ' by Thelma W. Groneman, 235; "It Happens Every Spring," by Verda Mackay, 247; 
"Directions for Gardening," by Maude Rubin, 257; "First Bloom," by Sudie Stuart Hager, 257; 
"Desert Flowers," by Vesta N. Lukei, 257; "Tulips in the Wind," by Evelyn Fjeldsted, 261; "It 
Must Be Spring," by Hilda V. Cameron, 261; "S-unshine and Rain," by Ruth K. Kent, 261; "After 
Long Years," by Beatrice Knowlton Ekman, 264; "Apprehension," by Alice Whitson Norton, 265; 
"Dogwood Time," by Mary Gustafson, 279; "Silent Return," by Blanch Kendall McKey, 279. 


Editorial and Business Offices: 40 North Main, Salt Lake City 1, Utah, Phone 4-2511; Sub- 
scriptions 246; Editorial Dept. 245. Subscription Price: $1.50 a year; foreign, $2.00 a year; 
payable in advance. Single copy, 15c. The Magazine is not sent after subscription expires. No 
back numbers can be supplied. Renew promptly so that no copies will be missed. Report change 
of address at once, giving old and new address. 

Entered as second-class matter February 18, 1914, at the Post Office, Salt Lake City, Utah, under 
the Act of March 3, 1879. Acceptance for mailing at special rate of postage provided for in 
section 1103, Act of October 8, 1917, authorized June 29, 1918. Manuscripts will not be returned 
unless return postage is enclosed. Rejected manuscripts will be retained for six months only. 
The Magazine is not responsible for unsplipited manuscripts. 



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ibven the llioonught 

Eva Wiiles Wangsgaard 

Even the moonlight treading cherry bloom 
Leaves prints invisible upon the white; 
And sunshine's nimble fingers on the loom 
Of summer lend their urge to petal flight. 
But sun of these: wild roses pink with spring, 
Marsh marigolds, or cool delphiniums, 
Will burn their beauty on the heart and bring 
A prescience born of joy, when winter comes. 
The goldenrod's long brushes painting sun 
On autumn's scene outline the form of grief— 
For every petal lost a seed begun. 
An April bud for every fallen leaf. 
However deep the darkness where we wait 
Our eyes will open on a light as great. 

The Cover: Night-Blooming Cereus, Photograph by Josef Muench 

Frontispiece: Jefferson Memorial, Washington, D. C. 
Photograph by Ewing Galloway 

Cover Design by Evan Jensen 

The Resurrection of Jesus 

Elder Marion G. Romney 
Of the Council of the Twelve 

THIS response to an invitation, shepherds the angel said, 'Tear 

graciously extended by the not .... For unto you is born this 

able Editor of The Reliei day in the city of David a Saviour, 

Society Magazine, is made in hu- which is Christ the Lord" (Luke 

mility and with sincere apprecia- 2:10-11). 

tion. It affords opportunity to bear Second, that he suffer the pains 

witness to the resurrection of Jesus of all men, which he did, principal- 

to a very select group— the women ly, in Gethsemane, the scene of his 

of The Church of Jesus Christ of great agony. He himself described 

Latter-day Saints, and other readers that suffering as being of such in- 

of this great Magazine— and to set tensity that it caused ^'myself, even 

forth, in part at least, the basis up- God, the greatest of all, to tremble 

on which that witness stands. because of pain, and to bleed at 

When we speak of Jesus being every pore, and to suffer both body 

resurrected, we mean that his pre- and spirit— and would that I might 

existent spirit, which animated his not drink the bitter cup, and shrink 

mortal body— from his birth in the —Nevertheless, glory be to the 

manger until he died on the cross— Father, and I partook and finished 

re-entered that body; and they two, my preparations unto the children 

his spirit body and his physical of men" (D. & C. 19:18-19). 
body, inseparably welded together, Third, that he give his life. His 

arose from the tomb an immortal death on the cross, after having 

soul. been rejected and betrayed and after 

Our belief is, and we so testify, having suffered appalling indignities, 

that Jesus not only conquered death seems not to be in dispute, even 

for himself and brought forth his among non-believers. That he gave 

own glorious resurrected body, but his life voluntarily, with the express 

that in so doing he also brought purpose of taking it up again in the 

about a universal resurrection. This resurrection, is not so universally 

was the end and purpose of the accepted. Such, however, is the 

mission to which he was set apart fact. He was, it is true, maliciously 

and ordained in the great council slain by wicked men, but all the 

in heaven when he was chosen to while he held the power to stay 

be our Savior and Redeemer. them. 'T lay down my life," he 

Concerning his earthly ministry, said, ''that I might take it again, 

his role as Redeemer required of No man taketh it from me, but I 

him four things: lay it down of myself. I have pow- 

First, that his pre-mortal spirit er to lay it down, and I have power 

be clothed with a mortal body, the to take it again" (John 10:17-18). 

accomplishment of which was heav- This power was inherently his by 

en announced when to the lowly virtue of his being born of the Vir- 



gin Mary (a mortal), the Son of 
God (an immortal celestialized Be- 

Having thus taken upon himself 
mortality, having suffered for the 
sins of all men in Gethsemane, and 
having given his life on the cross, 
there remained for him but to break 
the bonds of death— the fourth and 
last requirement— to complete his 
earthly mission as Redeemer. That 
the whole of his mortal Hfe moved 
toward this consummation he had 
repeatedly taught. It was fore- 
shadowed in his statement about 
laying down his life and taking it 
up again. To the sorrowing Martha 
he had said, ''I am the resurrection, 
and the life" (John 11:25); and to 
the Jews, ''Destroy this temple, and 
in three days I will raise it up" 
(John 2:19). 

J^ESURRECTION was so for- 
eign to human experience that 
even his believing followers had dif- 
ficulty comprehending it. The doc- 
trine, however, had been heard 
even by the crucifiers. Being dis- 
turbed by it, they came to Pilate 
"Saying, Sir, we remember that that 
deceiver said, while he was yet 
alive. After three days I will rise 
again." So with Pilate's consent 
they set a watch ''lest his disciples 
come by night, and steal him away, 
and say unto the people, He is ris- 
en from the dead" (Mt. 27:63-64). 
Thus it came about that these hire- 
ling guards unwittingly became wit- 
nesses to the opening of the tomb 
by the angel (Mt. 28:2-4), the final 
preliminary to the appearing of the 
"risen Lord." 

The evidence that Jesus was resur- 
rected is conclusive. Five times on 
the Sunday following his crucifixion 


on Friday afternoon, he revealed 

First to behold him was Mary 
Magdalene. Early in the morning 
Peter and John, having verified the 
fact that the body of Jesus was not 
in the tomb, went away. But Mary 
lingered in the garden weeping. 
Turning back from the empty 
tomb, she "saw Jesus standing, and 
knew not that it was Jesus. Jesus 
saith unto her. Woman, why weep- 
est thou? whom seekest thou? She, 
supposing him to be the gardener, 
saith . . . Sir, if thou have borne 
him hence, tell me where thou hast 
laid him, and I will take him away. 
Jesus saith unto her, Mary." Recog- 
nizing his voice, "She turned her- 
self" as if to touch him, saying, 
"Rabboni; which is to say, Master" 
(John 20:14-16). Tenderly restrain- 
ing her, he continued, "Touch me 
not; for I am not yet ascended to my 
Father: but go to my brethren, and 
say unto them, I ascend unto my 
Father, and your Father; and to my 
God, and your God" (John 20:17). 

Later, about sunrise, "Mary the 
mother of James, and Salome," and 
other women went to the tomb with 
spices to prepare the body for final 
burial. They found the tomb open 
and the body gone. To their con- 
sternation, they were met by two 
men in shining garments, who said, 
"Why seek ye the living among the 
dead? He is not here, but is risen" 
(Luke 24:5-6). As they went to 
tell his disciples, Jesus himself met 
them, "saying. All hail. And they 
came and held him by the feet, and 
worshipped him" (Mt. 28:9). 

Later the same day, as Cleopas 
and another journeyed to Emmaus, 
Jesus, unrecognized, drew near and 
went with them. Inquiring into 



the nature of their conversation, 
they repeated to him the reports of 
the women. At their seeming 
doubt he said, ''O fools, and slow 
of heart to believe all that the 
prophets have spoken." Then op- 
ened he their understanding of the 
scriptures concerning him. Tarry- 
ing at Emmaus, ''he took bread, and 
blessed it, and brake, and gave to 
them. And their eyes were opened, 
and they knew him; and he van- 
ished out of their sight." (See Luke 

In the evening as the disciples 
heard the reports that Jesus had 
appeared to Simon and to Cleopas, 
''Jesus himself stood in the midst 
of them." To quiet their fears and 
give assurance that he was not a 
spirit, he showed them his hands, 
his feet, and his side, saying, "It is 
I myself: handle me, and see; for a 
spirit hath not flesh and bones, as 
ye see me have .... And while 
they yet believed not for joy, and 
wondered, he said unto them. Have 
ye here any meat? And they gave 
him a piece of a broiled fish, and of 
an honeycomb. And he took it, 
and did eat before them." (See Luke 
24:36-43; John 20:19-23.) 

npHUS, on this eventful day, did 
his former associates behold 
his glorious resurrected body. Not 
only did they see him, but they 
heard his voice and felt the wounds 
in his hands, feet, and side. In 
their presence he handled food and 
ate of it. They knew of a surety 
that he had taken up the body 
which they themselves had placed 
in the tomb. Their sorrow was 
turned to joy by the knowledge that 
he lived, an immortal soul. 

For forty days he ministered 

among his disciples in the Holy 
Land. He appeared unto his dis-- 
ciples again at Jerusalem, when 
Thomas was present, and on the 
shore of the Sea of Tiberias, where 
he directed them in casting for fish, 
invited them to dine, gave them 
food to eat which he himself had 
prepared on a fire of coals, and in- 
structed them in the ministry. On 
a mountain in Galilee he commis- 
sioned the eleven to teach the gos- 
pel to all nations. And finally, after 
he had blessed them at Bethany, 
they saw him "carried up into heav- 
en." (See Luke 24:50-53.) 

His mission being ended in Pal- 
estine, he paid a visit to the Ne- 
phites in America, that they, too, 
might know of his resurrection. His 
Father introduced him to them as 
"my Beloved Son, in whom I am 
well pleased." When they saw him 
descend from heaven, they de- 
scribed him as "a Man . . . clothed 
in a white robe." He announced 
himself as "Jesus Christ, whom the 
prophets testified shall come into 
the world." They saw him, they 
heard him, and at his invitation 
they all "went forth, and thrust 
their hands into his side, and did 
feel the prints of the nails in his 
hands and in his feet," and knew 
of a surety and did testify that he 
was the resurrected Redeemer. 
(See 3 Nephi 11:7-15.) 

As he revealed himself, after his 
resurrection, to his followers in the 
Holy Land and to the Nephites in 
America, so he has revealed him- 
self in our day. Indeed, this dis- 
pensation opened with a glorious 
vision in which the Prophet Joseph 
was visited by the Father and the 
Son. He heard their voices, for they 
both spoke to him. He was given 


a personal introduction to the res- am he who Hveth, I am he who was 

urrected Jesus by the Father him- slain; I am your advocate with the 

self. He beheld their glorious bod- Father." (D. & C. 110:1-4). 

ies and afterwards thus described From the foregoing accounts 

them: 'The Father has a body of come our mental pictures of the 

flesh and bones as tangible as man's; resurrected Jesus. But the convic- 

the Son also" (D. & C. 130:22). tions we have, our testimonies that 

Some twelve years later the Sav- in the spirit world he was chosen 

ior revealed himself to Joseph and ordained to be our Redeemer; 

Smith, Jr., Sidney Rigdon being that he was born of Mary, the Only 

with him. They two bore testi- Begotten Son of God in the flesh; 

mony 'That he lives! For," said that he suffered for our transgres- 

they, "we saw him, even on the sions; that on the cross he volun- 

right hand of God; and we heard tarily gave his life for us; that in 

the voice bearing record that he is the resurrection he broke the bonds 

the Only Begotten of the Father" of death for himself and for all 

(D. & C. 76:22-23). men; that he arose an immortal 

In the Kirtland Temple the soul, the first fruits of the resur- 

Prophet saw him again, this time rection, appearing first to Mary 

in company with Oliver Cowdery: Magdalene and then to the others 

"The veil was taken from our as recorded; that he visited the Ne- 

minds," they wrote, "and the eyes phites; and that he has revealed 

of our understanding were opened, himself in this dispensation to Jo- 

We saw the Lord standing upon seph Smith and others— do not 

the breastwork of the pulpit, before come alone from these accounts, 

us; and under his feet was a paved Our own convictions and testi- 

work of pure gold, in color like monies come by the witness of the 

amber. His eyes were as a flame of Holy Spirit, the Holy Ghost, by 

fire; the hair of his head was white whose power we know these ac- 

like the pure snow; his counte- counts are true, and by whose pow- 

nance shone above the brightness er we become witnesses to the truth 

of the sun; and his voice was as the of the recorded events along with 

sound of the rushing of great wat- those who experienced them. To 

ers, even the voice of Jehovah, say- obtain and bear this witness is our 

ing: I am the first and the last; I mission. 

» ♦ ■ 

Stanzas on JLight 

Maryhale Woolsey 

I. Inseparable 

How wrong to think of shadows 
Existing where deep night is! 
There cannot be a shadow 
Except where light is. 

II. "Also the Morning ..." 
Never was there a night, but it made way 
For rosy dawning and the gold of day. 
Light never fails returning; have no fear, 
Death's darkness will be brief, with morning near. 

The Best Years of Her Life 

Pansye H. Powell 

AUNT Tabitha's rocking chair 
had sat in the same spot in 
the Higgins hving room for 
over seventy years; except, that is, 
for those brief intervals of house- 
cleaning when it had gone to the 
front porch along with the horse- 
hair sofa, the whatnots, and the 
heavy rag carpets. Aunt Tabitha's 
mother had brought the chair with 
her from Kentucky when she 
moved to Missouri as a bride in 

It was not a particularly hand- 
some chair, but it was comfortable 
and fitted to Aunt Tabitha's bony 
form. She regularly made new cov- 
ers for the plump cushion that 
always lay on its seat and for the 
back-rest that eased the straight- 
ness of its back; at intervals she 
added a coat of paint to freshen 
the wood. At various times it had 
been painted red, blue, and green, 
as her fancy dictated. Its redeem- 
ing quality as a piece of furniture 
was that it was comfortable for her, 
and that it was unobtrusively a part 
of the general decor of the room. 
It was old— but so was Aunt Ta- 

She was as old-fashioned in ap- 
pearance as her chair. She wore 
her still brownish hair in a bun on 
the top of her head, severely plain; 
she dressed as she had for the past 
fifty years— in dark print house 
dresses at home, and in simple black 
away from home. 

Everyone in Mooresville knew 
Aunt Tabitha. She had always 
lived there, except for a brief year 
when she had attended a young 

Page 216 

ladies' seminary in Grantsborough, 
twenty miles away. Her stay at the 
seminary had ended abruptly when 
her older sister Mandy married. 
There was no one else to stay with 
her mother and father but Tabitha. 
She had gone home willingly 
enough and had eased the last years 
of her aging parents without much 
thought of herself. 

No suitors had vied for her hand. 
As the years went by, she had 
found much affection in Mandy's 
growing family, becoming friend 
and confidante to her nieces and 
nephews and later to Mandy's 
grandchildren. She had lived quiet- 
ly, and most people thought hap- 
pily following the unbroken tenor 
of Mooresville ways. 

Then Aunt Tabitha fell one win- 
ter day and broke her hip. 

Fortunately for her, she fell on 
her front steps and was seen by a 
neighbor passing by. When Dr. 
Starks arrived, he looked very seri- 
ous and ordered Aunt Tabitha tak- 
en to the Gainsborough hospital at 
once. Two hours later, she was in 
a hospital bed, her little house left 
lonely and locked against a possible 

Mandy and her family did all 
they could to make the hospital 
stay pleasant. At the end of two 
weeks. Dr. Starks held a private 
conference with Mandy, the gist of 
which was that Aunt Tabitha's hip 
would be a long time healing, and 
she must not live alone, now or 
ever again. Next time she fell, she 
might not be so lucky. 



lyi ANDY called a meeting of her 
family, unknown to Aunt 
Tabitha. Who could move out to 
Mooresville to live with Aunt Ta- 
bitha? Or should they talk to her 
and convince her she should come 
to live in the city with one of them? 

All the time the family had sat 
around debating these questions, 
the youngest grandchild, Ted 
Browning, had sat without speak- 
ing. Everyone knew he was Aunt 
Tabitha's favorite of Mandy's 
grandchildren; he had spent weeks 
of his adolescent vacations out with 
Aunt Tabitha, and she had con- 
tributed liberally to his college 
training in business administration. 
Now, he was successfully estab- 
lished in a growing brokerage busi- 
ness and about to be married to a 
young schoolteacher. 

With all this before him, no one 
expected that he would even think 
of setting up housekeeping in 
Mooresville, so everyone was much 
surprised when he said, "Maybe 
Ellen and I could go out there 
when we are married." 

''Better speak to Ellen about 
that," his sister Irene protested. 
'Til bet she'd have a different 

"How could you manage the trip 
to town every day?" Mandy ques- 

"It's no farther than people in 
New York and Chicago drive to 
work every day. And if the roads 
are impassable, there's that little 
train that makes the trip in every 
morning— and there are buses." 

"But the house . . ." began his 
older sister Marion. 

"Oh, Ellen and I could fix that 
up. I'll bet she'd get a kick out 
of all those antiquated belongings. 

Anyway, I'll ask her tonight and 
we'll see what then." 

So the family conference broke 
up, with the other nieces and neph- 
ews secretly relieved that there 
might just be a way out of the di- 
lemma that would require no sac- 
rifice on their parts. 

When Aunt Tabitha was ap- 
proached on the idea of moving in- 
to town with Mandy, she registered 
a decided negative. "Absolutely 
not," she declared. "I'm not going 
to move out of the only home I 
have ever had. I belong in Moores- 
ville and there's where I'm going to 

In spite of pain and discomfort, 
she was still the old Aunt Tabitha, 
with plenty of fire yet. 

That night Ted went to see her 
during the evening visiting hours. 
Ellen went with him. Ted ushered 
her proudly into Aunt Tabitha's 
room, where the elderly woman lay 
patiently suffering the discomforts 
of her inactivity. 

She smiled as they entered and 
put out her hand to Ted. "Well, 
Ted," she said, "it's good of you 
to come to see your old auntie 
again. And this time you've brought 
Ellen. How are you, my dear?" 

"I'm just fine," Ellen spoke 
cheerily. "And you're looking ever 
so well." 

"I'm doing all right, I guess; but 
it's a long time to be lying here and 
nobody in my house to keep the 
cobwebs down." 

"That's just what we've come to 
see you about," Ted hastened to 
put in. "How would you like for 
me and Ellen to move into the 
house and help you with every- 



Aunt Tabitha's face broke into 
smiles. 'I'd rather have you and 
Ellen than anyone else I know/' 
she said, "but are you sure you want 
to do that? It's not a very fine 
house, you know. It's warm in 
winter and cool in summer; but it's 
not very fancy for a young couple 
to go into." 

''Oh, we've talked it all out," El- 
len answered. "If you're wiUing, 
Ted will drive me down tonight 
and we'll look it over. We'll need 
your key to get in, of course. 
Would you mind if we did some re- 

"I guess a bride would want 
things to be fresh and clean," Aunt 
Tabitha agreed. "You go ahead. 
The doctor says Fm to be here an- 
other four weeks, and then he will 
let me go home." 

Two weeks later they had the 
wedding. Ellen and Ted came to 
see Aunt Tabitha before they left 
on their honeymoon trip, which 
they were shortening in order to 
have time to arrange the house be- 
fore Aunt Tabitha returned to it. 

"We'll have everything ready for 
you when you can go home," they 
promised. "Don't worry about 

Aunt Tabitha smiled after them, 
as they walked off together, Ted's 
arm possessively about Ellen's waist. 

T\7HEN the day came that Aunt 
Tabitha was to be allowed 
to go home from the hospital, Ted 
arranged for an ambulance to take 
her to Mooresville. She was care- 
fully moved and returned to her 
little home and into a hospital bed 
which nad been placed in her room. 
Too tired to do more than sleep, 
she did not look around her until 

she awakened the next morning to 
see the sun streaming into her bed- 
room windows as it had always done 
and to hear robins chirping on the 
lawn as they had done all her life. 

She moved her head carefully, 
looking at all the familiar furnish- 
ings of her room. The wallpaper 
was different, but she liked the 
freshness of the tiny sprigs of sweet- 
peas and green leaves. The curtains 
were new crisscross tie-backs of 
spotless white organdy; but the 
furniture was the same — her high 
bureau with the little mirror atop; 
her marble-topped washstand; and 
her chintz-covered box that made a 
seat under the south window. On 
her little bedside table stood a tiny 
brass figure with a bouffant skirt 
which she discovered to be a bell. 
In looking at it, she accidentally 
rang the bell. 

Immediately the door of her 
room opened gently and a cheerful 
voice said, "Good morning. Aunt 
Tabitha. How are you?" Ellen, 
crisp in starched pink gingham, her 
face smiling, came in. 

"Fm just fine," Aunt Tabitha 
said, "and I like the way you have 
made my room so nice for me." 

"We put your own bed away 
until you are able to leave the hos- 
pital bed. It will be ready to put 
up for you as soon as you are able 
to get around. Shall I bring your 
breakfast now? Here, you freshen 
up a bit while I get your breakfast." 

Aunt Tabitha felt a glow of hap- 
piness and contentment. Surely 
this was to be the best time of her 
life. Young people with her in 
her own home. She ate a hearty 
breakfast. When Dr. Starks came 
the next day, he promised she 



sluoTild be up and about in a chair 
within a week. 

j ]f UST as he promised, a week later, 
I "^ Aunt Tabitha had a coming-out 
iparty. Only Ted and Ellen and 
Dr. Starks were present, but the oc- 
casion was a merry one for all that. 
Dressed in a pretty blue robe over 
her gown, her hair carefully combed 
into a neat bun on top her head, 
she was moved carefully from the 
bed into a wheelchair, and Ted 
pushed her slowly from her bed- 
room into the narrow hall of the 
^ little house and down it to the liv- 
ing room. 

Aunt Tabitha gasped with sur- 
prise when she saw what had hap- 
pened to the living room. The room- 
size rag carpets had been taken up 
and the floor polished into a mir- 
ror. A large oval rug had been 
made from the carpet, and small 
throw rugs from the same source 
filled in at doorways to the hall 
and dining room. New wallpaper 
and paint had brought freshness. 
Instead of the lace curtains that 
had hung at the big bay window, 
long full drapes were pulled back 
to let in sunshine and air. Ellen 
had brought her spinet piano; the 
horsehair sofa had been cleaned and 
rubbed until the rosewood gleamed. 
^ The whatnots stood in the corners 
^ as before, but the room was differ- 
ent and more charming than it had 
ever been. 

Ted pushed Aunt Tabitha on 
through the dining room, which 
was unchanged except for paper 
and paint, and into the kitchen, 
which gleamed with a new electric 
stove and refrigerator and linoleum. 
Aunt Tabitha drew in her breath 
in astonishment. "Well/' she ex- 

claimed, 'Td no idea you were do- 
ing all this." 

"I hope you don't mind," Ted 
anxiously commented. "We thought 
we might as well be using some of 
our things. Wc kept all yours and 
put them in the shed behind the 
house, so they'll be there if you 
ever want them." 

Aunt Tabitha did not answer. 

"She's growing tired," Dr. Starks 
said, "Musn't keep her up long 
this first time. Tomorrow maybe 
she can stay up a little longer." 

They took her back into her own 
room, carefully transferring her 
from chair to bed and lowering the 
back of the bed so she could drop 
off to sleep if she wished. 

The next day Aunt Tabitha 
seemed listless and had a poor ap- 
petite. She did not want to get up 
into her wheelchair. She lay 
apathetically, speaking only when 
spoken to and then only in mono- 
syllables. Ellen was distraught. 
Finally she called Dr. Starks. 

"I don't know what's the mat- 
ter," she said. "Aunt Tabitha 
seemed to be getting along so well 
—and now today she hardly touched 
her breakfast and lunch, and she 
just lies there, staring at the ceiling 
and doesn't even want to talk." 

"I think she had a little too 
much activity yesterday." Dr. 
Starks did not seem concerned. 
"Let her rest and don't bother her. 
Tomorrow she'll likely be herself 

Ellen worried over Aunt Tabitha 
until Ted came home at six. She 
had spent the afternoon preparing 
a delicious chicken dinner, because 
she knew Aunt Tabitha was espe- 
cially fond of dumplings. She had 
gathered fresh flowers from the 



garden she was so carefully tending 
for Aunt Tabitha and had placed a 
big bouquet of daisies and sweet- 
peas on Aunt Tabitha's table. Even 
these had not elicited any response 
from her. She had glanced at them 
as Ellen brought them in and had 
then looked away. 

I7LLEN went out to meet Ted in 
the driveway. She was almost 
in tears. 'Ted/' she whispered, *'l 
don't know what's the matter with 
Aunt Tabitha. She's so different 
today. Do you think she may be 

Ted's alarmed expression showed 
the sincerity of his concern. 
"What's happened?" he demanded, 
as he hurried to the side door. 

Ted stepped softly through the 
doorway into Aunt Tabitha's room. 
She looked up at him with an ex- 
pressionless face. He tried to be 
cheerful and to act as though 
everything was as usual. 

"Hello, Aunt Tabitha. How are 
you tonight?" he asked, in what he 
tried to make his usual tone. 

She looked at him and spoke 
hollowly, "Ted, I am not so well." 

"Do you hurt somewhere? Shall 
I get Dr. Starks?" 

"No, he can't help me. I guess 
I'm just not meant to get well, 

"But you were getting well, un- 
til we put you into that wheelchair 
yesterday. Did we hurt you? Did 
we hurt your hip?" 

"No, Ted. I wasn't hurt. You 
didn't hurt my hip at all." 

Ted knew Aunt Tabitha. Some- 
thing was wrong, and she wouldn't 
be all right until what was wrong 
was made right. But what was 

Aunt Tabitha motioned Ted to 
sit in the chair beside her bed. For 
a moment she did not speak, then 
she said, "Ted, when I am gone, I 
want you to have this house and 
everything in it." 

"Thank you. Aunt Tabitha. But 
that's something to be thought 
about a long time from now." 

She continued as though he had 
not spoken "... on one condi- 

"What is that. Aunt Tabitha?" 

"On the condition that you 
always keep everything that is in 
the house. I would not like to go, • 
knowing my things were not ap- 
preciated." There were tears in her 

"I can assure you. Aunt Tabitha, 
Ellen and I will observe your wish- 
es in this matter. We have done 
so, and we will continue to do so." 

She looked at him sadly. 

"Well," he demanded, "haven't 
we?" • 

Aunt Tabitha did not answer his 
question. Instead she turned her 
head wearily and motioned him to 

TT was two o'clock in the night 

when Ellen awakened Ted. She 
was shaking him vigorously. At first 
he could not remember what it was 
she was talking about. "Ted," she 
was whispering, "I think I know 
what's the matter." 

"Matter?" he sleepily rejoined. 
"What's the matter?" 

"The chair," she cried excitedly. 
"It's the chair. I forgot about it." 

Ted was wide awake now. "Of 
course that's it," he agreed. "We 
should have remembered it was her 
pride and joy. Well, tomorrow I'll 
dig it out of the back shed and put 
it back into the living room." 



"Oh, but Ted/' Ellen wailed, 
''that awful green will just spoil all 
I've tried to do in the living room— 
and there are layers and layers of 
paint under that. 

"Makes no difference," Ted stout- 
ly rejoined; "if all it takes to make 
Aunt Tabitha happy and well is 
that old rocker, in it comes, green 
or not. I'll get it out before I leave 
for the office." 

Ellen gave up the struggle. Ted 
could be very firm when he chose. 
And somehow she rather liked his 
attitude toward Aunt Tabitha. 

True to his word, Ted located 
the old rocker in the back shed the 
next morning. It needed dusting, 
so Ellen cleaned it thoroughly, 
shaking the seat pillow and the 
back rest to make them more pre- 
sentable. She placed it by the win- 
dow where Aunt Tabitha could not 
fail to see it when she awakened. 

AN hour later, there was a ring 
from Aunt Tabitha's room. El- 
len found her sitting up straight in 
bed, her eyes full of life, as she 
glanced from the chair to Ellen and 
back again. 

"Where'd that chair come from?" 
she demanded. "I thought you had 
thrown it away." 

"Oh, now. Aunt Tabitha," El- 
len answered gently, "we haven't 
thrown away anything of yours. I 
just moved the chair out of the liv- 
ing room temporarily." 

"It's the one thing in this house 
that I love most of all/' Aunt Tab- 
itha said. "When I thought you 
had done something with it, I just 
felt I'd lost a lifelong friend. Now, 
I know you will love and care for 
this house as I always have." 

Ellen was soon on the telephone, 
calhng Ted's office. "Ted," she 
chirped, "everything's all right. It 
was the chair all the time. She 
thought we had disposed of it— 
that was all that was the matter." 

"Is she going to get up today?" 
he queried. 

"Is she? She's up now— sitting 
in the rocking chair, in the living 
room. Goodbye now. I'd better 
go in there, before she falls out." 

Back in the living room, Ellen 
found Aunt Tabitha looking around 
her with a puzzled expression. 
"What's wrong, Aunt Tabitha?" 
she asked. 

"You know, Ellen," Aunt Tab- 
itha answered, "I think this chair 
doesn't look right in this room. 
Wrong color. My mother told me 
once that this chair is really made 
of fine walnut. Couldn't we have 
the paint removed and the natural 
wood brought out again?" 

Ellen's smile was radiant. "Won- 
derful," she beamed. "You just sit 
there quietly until I come back. 
I'll call Stone and Grooms and 
have them pick up the chair today. 
They'll have it back in no time." 

Left to herself. Aunt Tabitha 
looked about her contentedly. The 
room was ever so much nicer than 
it had been when she went to the 
hospital. She patted the arms of 
her httle rocker gently, picturing 
it as it would be when it came back 
from the furniture man. She would 
make new covers for it herself— 
after Ellen chose the material, of 
course. She smiled happily to her- 
self. These would be the best days 
of her life, after all. 

Then, carefully, ever so carefully, 
she began to rock slowly. 

Willard Luce 


CJorever 1 1 Line 

DeJJa Adams Leitner 

This is the old home place, and here 
I come returning, worn with travel stains; 
Strangers to me possess these verdant fields, 
But something mine forever here remains. 

The apple trees in petaled fragrance stand, 
The sheltered garden pool in willov/ shade; 
The old stone fence, clothed in its ivy robe. 
Recalls my father's toil and what he made. 

I pause awhile, relive my carefree youth; 
I shall go on — perhaps return no more. 
But from this tryst with memory I shall take 
Comfort for sunset years — a treasure store. 

Page 222 

What It Takes 

Kay Ishuh 

MAUREEN got up as soon as suspected the girl was on the verge 

the alarm went oflE. She of hysteria, and as they sat down 

moved automatically to on the edge of the bed, she had 

close the window and then around taken one of Beverly's hands and 

to Harvey's bed. "Harvey! Wake up, said, "We're so happy you came to 

honey! It's six-thirty." The last was be with us, Beverly. We all want 

lost in a yawn. you to be as happy as possible 

In the bathroom she surveyed here." 

herself in the mirror. If there was Beverly's eyes had clouded with 

any comfort in being forty, it was tears, and her "thank you" had 

to be forty and not look it. She had been barely audible, 

very few wrinkles, and the new "And we're all so delighted about 

haircut certainly minimized the ef- the baby . . . ." But Maureen had 

feet of gray that was just beginning not gone on, because Beverly, with 

at her temples. Maureen was grate- a quick gesture, had pushed her 

ful that she did not look as tired dark hair back from her face, and 

as she felt. She was bone-tired, dog- the eyes that met Maureen's had 

tired, several varieties of tired. held a look of wild apprehension. 

It wasn't just that she had been "Yes, the baby. My mother 

up with Dickie at least half a dozen died . . . ." She could not speak 

times during the night. Even after for a moment and her throat moved 

his coughing quieted down, and convulsively. "She died when I was 

she got back into bed, she couldn't born." 

sleep. Her thoughts kept going to Maureen had moved quickly and 

the dark-eyed girl sleeping in the put her arm around the trembling 

room that used to be John's before girl. "They have so many methods 

he went overseas. to make childbirth safer now, and 

John's wife had been with them we'll get a good doctor," she had 

a month now, and she still seemed comforted her as she helped lay out 

as tense and frightened as she had her night things, and saw her safe- 

the night she arrived. She had been ly in bed. 

weary and bewildered that night, Beverly had seemed calmer the 

and the welcoming committee had next morning, and it was obvious 

been noisy— the entire family: sev- she was fighting for courage, but, 

en-year-old Dickie and the fourteen- after a month, the fear still seemed 

year-old twins, plus Grandma Dunn to be there, 

and, of course, Harvey and herself. ***** 

It was difficult to restrain the chil- lyrAUREEN scrubbed her teeth 

dren, and even Grandma Dunn had and washed. Then she went 

been curious and excited about back to the bedroom and shook 

John's wife. Harvey again. "Come on, dear, it's 

When Maureen had finally taken after six-thirty." 

Beverly up to John's room, she had This time he grunted and sat up 

Page 223 



on the edge of the bed, looking big 
and tousled and not at all like a 
successful grain buyer in his polka- 
dot pajamas. ''Dickie coughed," he 

"Yes," she answered his state- 
ment. ''But he's sleeping now. Fm 
going to let him sleep. He can't go 
to school with that cough." 

Harvey lumbered sleepily into the 
bathroom, and Maureen began to 
dress. Dickie's cough was a worry. 
He'd had far too many colds this 
winter. Her mind drifted back to 
the more urgent worry. She must 
forget her own heavy fear concern- 
ing her older son and find some way 
to comfort his wife. Terror could 
be destructive, and Beverly and the 
new life within her must be kept 
secure and safe for John when he 
came home. 

After dressing, Maureen looked 
in on Dickie, whose seven-year 
length was curled into a relaxed 
mound under the jumbled covers. 
His breathing was easy, and he 
didn't look feverish. 

Then she quietly crossed the hall 
and opened the door to the room 
her fourteen-year-old twins shared. 
They were already awake, and she 
had apparently interrupted a low ex- 
change of words, for Jean was wip- 
ing angrily at reddened eyes, and 
Jill's whole attitude, as she jerked 
bobby pins out of her hair, was one 
of impatient defensiveness. 

To Maureen, it was a constant 
source of surprise that her twins 
were alike in time element only. 
They did not share a single twin 
characteristic. Where Jill was gre- 
garious and aggressive, Jean was 
quiet and shy. The identical shape 
and shade of their brown eyes were 

denied in the fiery sparkle of Jill's 
flashing looks, the soft warmth of 
Jean's calm observance. 

Now Jill turned quickly to her 
mother. "Mother, I think Jean is 
just plain selfish about her purple 
shoes. They just match my dress, 
and she isn't even going to the 
dance . . . ." 

Jean didn't speak, and Maureen 
could sense her waiting for her re- 
sponse—her mother's judgment in 
the case of the purple shoes. "The 
wisdom of Solomon, the patience of 
Job . . . ." Those had been her 
own mother's words and that was 
exactly what it took to rear chil- 

The argument of the purple shoes 
had been going on for several days, 
and Maureen felt sure the onlv 
reason the usually generous Jean re- 
fused the shoes was because she 
wanted so much to go to this par- 
ticular dance herself and didn't 
have a date. 

"Jill, those shoes belong to Jean. 
She saved the money for them by 
making her school skirts instead of 
buying them ready-made as you did. 
If she doesn't want you to wear the 
shoes I suggest you stop asking." 
Maureen didn't like the smug look 
on Jean's face. "You better get up 
Jean, it's nearly seven." 

lyrAUREEN closed the door to 
the twins' room and won- 
dered if she had done and said the 
right thing. Jill, who was slightly 
lazy, had no right to expect to reap 
the rewards earned by industrious 
Jean, and yet smugness concerning 
possessions was not good, either. 
Where was the right place to draw 
the line? 
On her way downstairs, Maureen 



passed Beverly's door and wondered 
if the argument had awakened her. 
In the last month she had won- 
dered what Beverly must think of 
their noisy, energetic household. 
She had felt distressed that Beverly 
should become aware of the myriad 
daily problems to be met and 
solved with the children, and yet 
while she was living here, it was im- 
possible to insulate her against 
their everyday life. 

In the kitchen Maureen moved 
quickly and efficiently to pre- 
pare breakfast, her hands doing 
tasks so familiar that she scarcely 
had to think as she worked. She 
remembered when John had first 
written about Beverly. He had 
met her at a M.I.A. dance. Maureen 
knew at once that this girl was spec- 
ial as far as John was concerned, 
but she had been taken completely 
by surprise when, after knowing 
Beverly but one month, John had 
written and asked his mother to get 
his recommend from the bishop, as 
he and Beverly planned to get mar- 
ried right away. 

Less than three months after the 
temple ceremony, John had been 
sent overseas. There had not been 
time for a trip home, but he had 
called on the phone, and it was 
then he had told them that they 
were expecting a child and asked if 
Beverly might come and stay with 

"She has no family, Mom, and 
she's scared," he had said. 

''Of course, John, she must come 
here with us. There's your room. 
We could fix it up for her. Why, 
she must come here!" Her voice had 
risen with urgency. So it was settled 
and Beverly had come. 

As if it were yesterday Maureen 
remembered her own fear when she 
knew she was going to have John. 
And her own mother's words, 
"Maureen, women have been hav- 
ing babies since time began, and 
most of 'em seem to live through 
it. The really hard part about hav- 
ing a baby is rearing it to be a use- 
ful person. Most women can, and 
do, have babies, but it takes real 
courage and love, plus the wisdom 
of Solomon and the patience of 
Job, to rear 'em to be fine men and 

These words had been a comfort 
to her. They had made her feel a 
kinship with all other women down 
through the ages, and she had de- 
cided to concentrate on being a 
good mother when her baby ar- 


ARVEY'S kiss on the back of 
her neck brought Maureen back 
to the present. She turned and 
moved into the circle of his arms, 
and they stood in a warm embrace 
without speaking. Each morning 
before the children came downstairs 
they stood so and seemed to draw 
strength from each other for the 
day ahead. Neither of them spoke, 
for words were unnecessary. 

Maureen sighed and drew away 
from the comfort of the embrace 
to turn the pancakes that were 
cooking on the stove. "Drink your 
orange juice, dear." 

"Yes, ma'm," he imitated Dickie. 
But he picked up his glass of juice. 
"What's the trouble? You seem to 
be in the glumps this morning." 

"Harvey, I'm worried about Bev- 
erly. She seems to be so nervous, 
so ... so frightened." It was hard 
to put her feeling into words. 



"She does appear to be a little 
apprehensive. But who wouldn't 
be, living with such a batch of in- 
laws?" He chuckled and began to 
butter his pancakes. Before Mau- 
reen could voice any further doubts, 
Beverly came into the kitchen. 

''Goodness, guess I've overslept 
again." She smiled shyly. 'Tou 
could probably call it a habit, Fve 
done it nearly every morning since 
I've been here." 

''Good morning, Beverly." Har- 
vey beamed at the pretty, dark- 
haired girl, and Maureen was thank- 
ful for his gracious way with her. 

"There's no need for you to get 
up. You should sleep as long as 
you want to." Maureen smiled af- 
fectionately as she handed her a 
glass of fruit juice. 

"Oh, I don't feel like I have to 
get up, it's just that I enjoy ... I 
mean it's so nice the way you all 
have breakfast together." Her lovely 
eyes grew concerned. "How is Dick- 
ie? I heard him coughing." 

"Well, he's sleeping and I think 
his temperature is gone. It's hard 
to say . . ." Maureen began as Jill 
flounced into the room. 

"Hi, everybody!" She seated her- 
self with an air of tragic melan- 

"Morning, darling. Who ruffled 
your feathers so early in the morn- 
ing?" Harvey grinned at her. 

She didn't return his smile, but 
let the corners of her mouth droop 
further. "I don't see how anyone 
can be as selfish as Jean is. She's 
nothing but a dog-in-the-manger. 
She isn't even going to the dance. 
She doesn't have a date." 

"I don't want any old date! I 
don't even want to go to the silly 

dance." Jean's bravado, as she 
walked into the kitchen, was be- 
trayed by the slight quaver in her 

Maureen felt it was time she 
stepped into the argument. She car- 
ried a plate of pancakes to the table. 
"I think you are both behaving 
more like four than fourteen." 

She went on conversationally, 
"Isn't Todd's cousin here from Salt 
Lake? He seemed like an awfully 
nice boy, and no one here would 
know he was a year younger than 
Todd. In fact, I thought he was 
the same age when I met him." 
Maureen watched the light dawn 
on Jill. 

"Mother, that's a wonderful idea. 
Why didn't I think of it?" Jill 
turned to her sister. "Would you 
go, Jean?" 

"Oh, I don't know. I don't 
think . . . ." Jean's pessimistic words 
were denied by the hope that was 
suddenly shining in her eyes. 

Jill leaped up from the table. 
"I'll call Todd right now." 

T ATER, after Maureen had kissed 
her husband goodbye, she 
watched the twins start out for 
school arm-in-arm. It seemed that 
Todd's cousin wanted very much to 
take Jean to the dance, but because 
of that temporarily important one 
year's difference in age, he had been 
too shy to ask. Jill would wear 
Jean's purple shoes, and, in fair ex- 
change, Jean would have the loan 
of Jill's crystal necklace. With a lit- 
tle luck, Maureen thought, that 
might be the last major crisis today, 
but there would be something else 

The comfortable old house 



seemed quiet and peaceful as she 
walked back to the kitchen. ''Why 
don't you put on some more pan- 
cakes while I go check Dickie?" she 
asked Beverly, who still sat at the 
table, staring intently out the win- 

The girl smiled and moved to- 
ward the stove, and, when Maureen 
came downstairs after looking in on 
the still sleeping boy, the pancakes 
were steaming on the table. 

They often sat over breakfast 
this way in the morning, and it had 
given Maureen her best opportunity 
to get to know Beverly. She had 
found the girl sincere and sweet. 
Not once since the night she came 
to live with them had she men- 
tioned her fear of having the baby. 
At times she seemed relaxed and 
normal, and then again Maureen 
saw a look of apprehension. 

Now Beverly spoke almost before 
Maureen was seated at the table, as 
though she had been planning the 
words while she waited, ''I want to 
talk to you about something, it's . . . 
well, I . . . Fm so frightened . . . ." 
She seemed unable to go on. 

Maureen put down her fork 
slowly. Here it was. Now the fear 
would be out in the open. And 
that would be best. But did she 
have the answer? Could she find 
the words that would comfort 
Beverly? The answer that would 
quiet the destroying fear? 

''Beverly, women have been hav- 
ing babies since time began. With 
the care you get today . . . ." 

"Oh, I'm not worried about the 
baby being born. It's . . . ." Bev- 
erly began. 

"But I thought you . . . the night 
you came . . . ." Maureen interrupt- 

ed her, and then could find no 
words to voice her astonishment. 

OEVERLY laughed self-conscious- 
ly. "I guess I acted like that at 
first. But, anyway, I'm not fright- 
ened about that anymore." 

"Then what . . .?" Maureen was 
at a loss for words again. 

"Well, it's partly Dickie. I mean 
he's been so sick. His cough must 
be a worry." Beverly spoke slowly. 

"Dickie will be all right, Beverly. 
Nearly all children have a bad win- 
ter now and then. Colds or coughs 
or both. Dr. Morse gave me a good 
tonic for him yesterday." She smiled 
reassuringly. "Why Dickie will be 
back to school in a week." 

"Yes, I know. But you've been 
up so many nights, and you're so 
patient," Beverly went on. "And 
then the twins. They're adorable 
but . . . well, life is so complicated 
for them. Everything is so vital. 
And you always seem to know what 
to say and do. Like this morning at 

"The twins are in one of the 
stages that all children go through. 
They're almost impossible to live 
with now, but in a year or two 
they'll suddenly be young women." 
Maureen laughed ruefully. "And 
difficult as they are, I hate to see 
them grow up." 

"I know. And then there's John." 
Beverly's eyes clouded with misery. 
"At first all I could think of was 
what it meant to me to have him 
go away. But now I see all the 
years, all the love and patience that 
made him what he is. Now I have 
an idea of how hard it must be for 
you .... 

"Yes, it's hard." Maureen felt 



heavy with sadness. "But every 
mother knows that someday her 
children will leave the home, and 
even while her heart cries out 
against their leaving, she knows 
that it is the way of life. A thing 
she must face, only war makes it 
much worse." Her eyes met Bev- 
erly's. '*I hope you never have to 
send a son to war." 

"That's what I mean." Beverly's 
voice was almost a whisper. "Giving 
birth to my baby doesn't seem such 
a problem anymore. It's after they 
get here. I don't know if ... I 
don't know if I have what it takes 
to be a mother." 

Maureen let her body relax into 

the kitchen chair and felt part of 
a heavy burden slip from her 
shoulders. Beverly would be all 
right. She had stopped thinking of 
herself and was becoming con- 
cerned with the real job ahead of 
her. She had stopped worrying 
about the birth and was feeling her 
first responsibility toward the new 
life that would be put in her hands 
soon, slowly understanding that 
this new life would take all the skill 
and love and courage she could 

The older woman smiled into the 
young girl's eyes. "When the time 
comes . . . you'll find you have 
what it takes," she said. 

^oin the L^rusade K/Lgainst L^ancer 

Sandra Munsell 

Supervisor, Magazine Advertising Services 

Another year has sped by. Another year has taken its toll of cancer 
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Tens of thousands are living happily this springtime— and will live 
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Second Best 

Blanche Sutherland 

KAY Webster turned the chops 
and lowered the fire under 
the skillet before lifting a 
flushed cheek for Don's homecom- 
ing kiss. There were tired lines 
around her mouth, and a strand of 
fair hair had escaped its pin. 

"Dinner's late," she said, hurried- 
ly putting plates and silver on the 
table in the breakfast nook. "Mr. 
Martin brought in some extra con- 
tracts to be typed— in triplicate, too, 
mind you, and at five-thirty." 

"Well, I'm late, too," Don con- 
soled. "That's what comes of hav- 
ing to ride with Carson. He's 
alwavs behind time." 

*'l wish we had two cars," Kay 
interjected impatiently, "or you 
would pick up the baby, and I'd 
come home by bus. No— that 
wouldn't do. I'd be later than ever. 
Oh, well, wash Bobby's hands and 
put him in his chair, will you, Don? 
And start him on his dinner. He's 
so hungry and tired. Mrs. Meredith 
was just about to feed him when 
I finally got there." 

Don laid an envelope beside his 
own plate silently and picked up 
Bobby from the floor, swinging 
him to his broad shoulder. 

"Hi, old man," he said, his broad 
face tender, "how about a wash- 
up and then that egg, I see there?" 

Bobby rubbed his eyes with a 
small, grubby hand. ''Egg," he de- 
manded, "egg." 

Kay fluffed the potatoes, stined 
gravy, and was sliding a pan of rolls 
from the oven when Don and Bob- 
by returned, sleek and smiling. 

"That oven!" she ejaculated. 
"These rolls are too brown." 

Don sniffed appreciatively at the 
warm odors emanating from the 
steaming utensils. "I like 'em brown. 
And chops! Who wants steak 
when chops are half the price?" 

He levelled Bobby into his chair 
and gave him his spoon. "Did you 
see what I brought home, honey?" 
he asked eagerly. 

Kay shook her head. "Dinner's 
ready," she said. 

Don sat down, opened the en- 
velope, and passed the contents 
over, then straightened back, a smile 
lighting the broad planes of his 
face. "How's that?" he inquired. 

Kay dropped her eyes to the 
paper, then, ''Tho car," she ex- 
claimed. "In full, Dan, in full? 
Well, that's off our shoulders." 

"Yep. Our car at last, and still 
in good shape, and now . . . ." He 
grinned at her. 

Kay poured milk into Bobby's 
cup. "And now. What do you 
mean— and now?" 

Don took an appreciative bite of 
his chop. "And now, you can quit 
working, honey. See?" 

"Quit!" Kay remonstrated. "The 
car's paid for, yes, but there's still 
the house." 

"I can take care of that. The fifty 
dollar raise I got, you know." 

"But that's not all, Don," Kay 
broke in, her blue eyes impatient. 
"The furniture is all secondhand 
stuff, as you know. The stove and 
refrigerator are both on the ragged 
edge. And then, I want one of 
these automatic washers— instead of 
spending half my evenings wash- 
ing and drying clothes." Kay stopped 
for breath. 

Page 229 



*'But if you weren't working, 
you wouldn't need to wash even- 
ings, honey/' he objected. ''We'll 
get all those things in time. Be 
reasonable, won't you?" 

IZAY laid down her fork patiently. 
'^ "But Don, Bobby's all right. 
Mrs. Meredith is wonderful with 
children, better than I would be. 
Bobby has playmates there, all 
about his own age. He'd be lone- 
some here all alone." 

''He'd get acquainted with his fa- 
ther and mother," Don argued 
shortly. "The way it is now, we 
rush him to Mrs. Meredith's so 
early he can't even have breakfast 
here. Then, at night, after he's had 
his dinner, he's tired and goes to 
bed. That's no way for a family 
to live." 

Kay's lips trembled. She spooned 
baby food onto Bobby's plate, wiped 
egg smears from his mouth. "Well, 
Fm too tired to argue," she said. 
"I just told Mr. Martin this morn- 
ing that I'd stay on, so I guess I'll 
have to." 

Don shrugged and finished his 
meal in silence, his mouth set grim- 
ly. But as they were preparing for 
bed, he renewed his plea. 

"Kay, think it over, won't you? 
I want a real home and a wife who 
isn't all tired out when I get here, 
where dinner's ready, and the kid's 
not too tired to play a little while. 
Can't you understand?" 

Kay, seated at the dressing table, 
took the bright stones from her ears 
and started brushing her short, 
blond hair. 

"I'll think about it," she said 
shortly. "Anyway, there's no hur- 

But she was too tired to think, 

this night as always, and in the 
morning there was no time. Don 
doesn't know what he's asking, she 
reasoned with herself. Besides, I 
like working, and Mrs. Meredith is 
so lovely with Bobby. Breakfast, 
lunch, and naps right on time. And 
she's teaching all the children good 
manners and how to get along to- 
gether. I couldn't do it. 

T/"AY met Margery Holt in the 
drugstore downtown that noon 
when she went in after lunch to 
get some toilet articles. Marge had 
her baby with her, almost the same 
age as Bobby. 

"Still working, Kay?" she asked. 

"Yes, but Don's beginning to fuss 
about it," Kay answered. Then, "Do 
you think I'm unreasonable. Marge? 
You stay at home, you know how 
it is. I want to keep on working 
until we have some of the nice 

"Well, of course, Don makes 
more than Ed. But staying at 
home's no cinch. I'm real tired at 
night, and we don't go out much as 
we can't afford a baby-sitter very 
often. Bobby's all right, isn't he?" 

"Oh, yes, fine. Mrs. Meredith is 
wonderful. She takes care of four 
children, all under two. Some are 
creeping, some just staggering 
around. And the jargon!" Kay 
laughed. "She told me this morn- 
ing that Bobby said 'Mawy' the 
other day. She thought he was try- 
ing to say Meredith." 

Margery laughed. "Of course, 
that's natural. He sees far more of 
her than of you." 

Kay winced, but did not reply, 
while Margery continued, "And 
once they get started talking .... 
My Danny was slow, too, but he's 



been saying Da da and Mum for 
two or three weeks. Ed was so 
proud, you'd think no child ever 
talked before." 

''Mum, mum/' Danny interrupt- 
ed. ''Da da!" his tiny hands wav- 
ing in an ecstasy of accomplish- 

Kay smiled down at him, a small 
stirring of jealousy in her heart. It 
wasn't any lack in Bobby, of course. 
She'd start tonight saying Da da 
and Mummy over and over. It 
wouldn't be long. 

"And his first step," Margery was 
bubbling on. "Oh, that was a day. 
Maybe, it's because Danny's our 
first, but Ed would hardly let the 
child rest a minute. 'Stand up now,' 
he'd say, 'like a little man. That's 
it. Now, come to Daddy.' Over 
and over, he'd urge him until I had 
to step in and put him to bed." 
She laughed. "I suppose it's the 
same with you." 

Kay nodded. She wasn't going 
to tell Marge that they hadn't 
known about Bobby's first step 
alone until he was really walking. 
Mrs. Meredith had too many first 
steps to report, maybe. 

"Well, I've a tub of laundry wait- 
ing," Marge exclaimed. "Come up 
some Saturday and we'll compare 
children. So long." 

^^'CAY Mummy, Daddy," Kay 
^ coaxed Bobby that night as 
she was preparing him for bed. She 
pulled a tiny shirt from over his 
small blond head. "Mummy, Dad- 

"Mawy," Bobby replied stolidly. 


"What's that he's trying to say?" 
Don asked from his seat on the 

"Meredith, I guess. At least, 
Mrs. Meredith thinks so," Kay re- 
plied shortly, "or imagines," she 
added. "Though with all those 
babies gabbing away, I don't know 
how she'd know who really did say 

Don's face was inscrutable. He 
started to speak, thought better of 
it, and lapsed into silence. 

"Did you think any more about 
giving up your job, Kay?" He asked 
later as she washed and he wiped 
the dishes. 

"No," she answered crisply. 

"Well, do," he urged. "You're 
looking tired, honey. I'd think 
you'd rather stay home." 

"Marg Holt stays home and she 
gets tired, too," Kay interjected, 
"real tired, she expressed it today. 
They're having a hard time finan- 
cially, too. I believe she envies 

Don shrugged and carried a load 
of dishes to the cupboard. "I wish 
I'd never let you go back to work," 
he said grimly. 

"Then the car wouldn't be paid 
for, maybe not even the doctor bill 
for Bobby, and a lot of other 
things," she flashed. "Don't for- 
get that." 

She wiped off the table, hung up 
the towels, "I've some things to 
wash out," she said shortly. 

"Okay," Don said, his mouth a 
grim line. "Anything I can do?" 

"No," Kay answered and watched 
him out of the kitchen. Perhaps 
Don had forgotten how things had 
been, she thought, her hands deep 
in soapsuds. They had married on 
faith and a shoestrong. She had 
her job, he had his and, of course, 
with one rent to pay instead of 



two and home-cooked meals so 
much cheaper than restaurant ones 
they had decided they could get 
along. They had for a time. The 
furnished apartment did very well 
until they found an unbelievable 
bargain in a house. They had furn- 
ished it with unclaimed furniture 
from a storage place, all on time, of 

Then, their luck had faded. Don's 
car gave out, and they had to buy 
another, and Dr. Wellman in- 
formed them that Bobby was on 
the way. Soon, there was only 
Don's salary. Doctor bills mount- 
ed, crib, carriage, layette had to be 
bought, later, hospital bills, nurses 
and pediatricians to be paid. The 
first of the month became a night- 
mare of juggling salary against gro- 
ceries, bills, and house and car pay- 
ments. There never was enough 
to go around. Kay watched Bobby 
through many a minor upset to 
save another doctor bill. 

'pHEN, she had found Mrs. Mere- 
dith. Kay reached for the soap 
box, recalling her first encounter 
with her. She had gone for a walk 
in the park with four-month-old 
Bobby and a sudden rainstorm had 
sent her up on the porch of a near- 
by house for shelter. Suddenly, the 
door opened and a pleasant woman 
had appeared. 

"Come in, my dear," she ex- 
claimed. "You're getting wet. I'm 
Mrs. Meredith." 

Thankfully, Kay accepted and 
found inside what seemed to be a 
room full of bassinets, cribs, play- 
pens, all with children in them, all 
nearly the same size. 

"Are they all yours?" she asked 
in bewilderment. 'Twins or trip- 

lets, or . . ." she stammered, look- 
ing from one to the other. 

"Oh, no," Mrs. Meredith laughed. 
"I only take care of them. It's just 
another way of earning a living." 
She picked a string of plastic balls 
up and handed it to the occupant 
of a bassinet. "I love children, and 
it's much easier if they're all about 
the same age." 

"But— but where are their moth- 
ers?" Kay gasped. 

"Oh, working. Diane, here has 
a father in Korea, Jerry over there 
in the play-pen, his father is dead. 
Mary's mother works to make ends 
meet. Different reasons, you 
know," she explained. "But sit 
down and let me see your baby. 
Boy, isn't it?" 

Kay complied, and by the time 
the rain had ended and Mrs. Mere- 
dith had disclosed her terms, she 
was thoroughly imbued with her 
new idea. Everything, the room, 
the babies were shining clean, the 
children seemed happy and well 
cared for. This would be the an- 
swer, and Mr. Martin, her employer, 
had told her any time she wanted 
to come back, he'd find a place for 

"Would you take Bobby?" she 
had asked. "I really need to work, 
we're so in debt. And I'd feel per- 
fectly safe if he were here." 

Mrs. Meredith hesitated and 
looked about. "I've never taken 
more than four at a time," she ob- 
jected. "I'm afraid not." She 
brightened. "Judy's mother is get- 
ting better. Perhaps it won't be 
too long before she can care for her 
herself. Give me your name and 
telephone. I'll call when I can take 

Bobby had gone to Mrs. Mere- 



dith at six months of age, ten 
months ago. They'd paid their 
debts, one by one, bought a few 
pieces of furniture, finished the pay- 
ments on the car— and now .... 

Kay poured the pan of suds into 
the sink, filled it with fresh water, 
and started rinsing small shirts and 
stockings, overalls, and sweaters. 
Now, with an automatic washer, 
Bobby's clothes would all be clean 
and dried by the time he was in 
bed and she'd be through for the 
night. She crisscrossed a cord in 
the kitchen and hung up the small 
garments with a sigh of relief. May- 
be this was the last time. There 
wasn't a single reason why the 
washer might not be decided upon 
tomorrow, or the next day at the 

rjON made only a small objection, 
going with her to decide on the 
make and size most suitable. After 
that, life went along as usual, ex- 
cept that Kay wasn't so tired at 
night, and they had their evenings 

'T guess you were right, Kay," 
Don owned grudgingly one even- 
ing. The weary lines had disap- 
peared from the face she bent over 
her mending. "At least, about the 
washer," he amended. ''What's that 
you are sewing on?" 

"Bobby's overalls. I've mended 
and mended them but hand-sewing 
doesn't hold. I believe I'll get a 
sewing machine. It would really 
be a saving. I could make the 
drapes for this room for a third of 
the price they charge." 

Don shook his head wearily. 
"Here we go again," was all he said. 

Kay went on, "And I saw a sofa in 
Hanagan's window, just the color 

I want." Kay turned and looked 
about the room. "Everything's so 
shabby. Now, with new drapes," 
she went on brightly, "and another 
chair, you wouldn't know the place." 

"Honey, honey," Don begged, 
reaching forward for her hand. 
"Let's be satisfied with what we 
have until I can manage. I'll get 
the sofa and the drapes, and after 
a while the sewing machine. Just 
be patient, won't you?" He patted 
her hand. "Those are just things, 
and meanwhile we're losing a real 
home. Bobby is, too, if you'd only 
see it." 

Kay turned her head away. Was 
she unreasonable? Don looked so 
eager, it seemed to mean so much 
to him. Then, suddenly, something 
of the old panic she had felt before 
and just after Bobby's birth re- 
turned. Who knew when bad luck 
might strike, and they'd be faced 
with bills again— every month turn- 
ing this way and that, balancing this 
against that. She was doing this as 
much for Bobby's sake as for 
theirs, she thought irritably. 

She pulled her hand away from 
Don's. "Another year maybe," she 
promised, "just to be safe." 

■pvON pushed back his chair and 
got up abruptly, his dark eyes 
hard as a stranger's beneath the 
thick, dark brows. "And you have 
no faith in me and my ability to 
take care of you and Bobby." 

"It isn't that," Kay objected, but 
she knew it was. 

"Or are you a coward?" Don 
asked bitingly. He picked his hat 
from the closet shelf and walked 

Kay gathered up her mending 
with unsteady hands. She wasn't a 



coward, she wasn't, and she didn't 
doubt Don. She only wanted to do 
the best for all their sakes. 

Later, in bed, she turned and 
tossed until Don returned, finally 
dropping off to sleep, promising her- 
self that when the sewing machine 
was paid for, she would stop work. 
But not now, she told herself fever- 
ishly, Don would just have to un- 

One afternoon, several weeks lat- 
er, Mrs. Meredith called. Bobby 
seemed to have a cold, she said, his 
temperature was up a little. Prob- 
ably, nothing to worry about, but 
Kay should come and get him. The 
other children must be protected. 

He did seem quite feverish, Kay 
found. She bundled him up and 
carried him to the car, trying to 
hush his crying. It couldn't be seri- 
ous, Bobby was always so well. But 
she'd call Dr. Wellman. Then she'd 
call the office, and say she wouldn't 
be back that day, and after that, 

"It's too early for a diagnosis," 
the doctor reported. 'There are a 
number of things it might prove to 
be. I'll leave something for his 
fever and the cough. Keep him in 
bed and no visitors. It might be 
contagious. I'll see you tomorrow." 

Contagious? Oh no, Kay thought, 
dismayed. I'll call Don. 

Don arrived home early, his dark 
face anxious. '1 got hold of John- 
son and he brought me," he ex- 
plained. "How's Bobby?" He stood 
over Bobby's bed. "Probably just 
a cold," he said without conviction. 
"Do you suppose it's something he 
caught over at that Meredith wom- 

"No," Kay replied. "I called 'that 
Meredith woman' as you term her. 

She said the other children were 
all well. It's probably something he 
picked up at the zoo where you in- 
sisted on taking him Saturday." 

Don shrugged and looked at her 
in silence. Then, "I wanted you 
to go, too, remember? We have 
so few pleasures together with Bob- 
by, honey. Saturday afternoon is 
our only day." 

"And my only day for finishing 
those drapes," she replied in a tense 

jyY the fourth day, telltale spots 
appeared on Bobby's face, and 
the doctor's verdict was measles. 

"Measles," Kay exclaimed. "Oh, 
all children have measles. How long 
will it take to clear up? My job, 
you know." 

"Two weeks, probably," the doc- 
tor said. "That is, if everything 
goes well, and there are no compli- 

Kay sobered instantly. "Compli- 

"Bronchitis, ear trouble, even 
pneumonia is possible. But keep 
him comfortable, no chilfing, no 
drafts. Care is the necessary 

After the doctor's departure, Kay 
stood watching Bobby, his small 
flushed face against the pillow. He 
coughed hoarsely and opened his 
eyes. "Mawy," he called, "Mawy!" 

Kay bent and touched his hot 
little forehead. "Mommy's here, 
Bobby. This is Mommy. Do you 
want a drink of water?" 

Bobby turned his face away. 
"Mawy," he sobbed, "wan Mawy." 

He means Mrs. Meredith, Kay 
thought numbly. "Mawy can't 
come, Bobby. Daddy will be here 
soon, though." 



''No. Mawy/' Bobby sobbed over 
and over, ''wan Mawy/' 

That night Bobby woke scream- 
ing with an earache. He cried 
constantly for "Mawy," until the 
doctor arrived with a sedative. 

"Who is it he's calhng for?" he 
asked, "a playmate?" 

"No, a Mrs. Meredith who has 
been caring for him," Kay replied 

"I see. Too bad. Of course, she 
couldn't come." He turned in an 
attempt at jocularity. "Bobby'll 
have to get along with just his 
Mom and Dad. Usually, a good 
combination, though," he smiled. 
"If the baby's not better by morn- 
ing, call me." 

Kay studiously avoided Don's 
eyes. She knew what he was think- 
ing. He and she were second best 
in the eyes and heart of their own 
baby. And it was her own fault. 
She had sold their birthright for a 
mess of pottage. His first step 
alone had been for Mrs. Meredith, 
his first word had been her name. 
The mess of pottage was a box of 
receipted bills, a washer, living- 
room drapes, and a sewing machine. 
Don was able and more than will- 
ing to care for his family's real 

She threw herself down beside 
the bed where Bobby was lying in 
a drugged sleep and wept. "You 
must hate me, Don," she sobbed 
hopelessly. "I hate myself. It's 
not only me but I've robbed you, 
too. I've given away Bobby's baby- 
hood, as if it were nothing. And 
nothing can bring it back, ever/" 

She felt Don's hands lifting her. 
"I don't hate you," he said, his face 
against her hair. "I love you. I know 
you thought you were doing right, 
I've known that all along. You 
just were scared of unpaid bills, 
which we could pay in awhile with 
careful budgeting and not buying 
unnecessary things." 

He raised her chin and kissed her 
trembling lips. "Besides, by another 
month Bobby will have forgotten 
all about Mrs. Meredith. You'll 

"Do you think so, really? It seems 
mean, she's such a nice person," 
Kay sympathized, then brightened 
at a new determination. 

"I'll call her in the morning and 
the Martin Company, too. They can 
both start advertising in the Want- 
ed columns. Bobby and I are go- 
ing to be occupied otherwise from 
now on," she concluded, with a 
glow of gratitude in her heart for 
her decision. 

c/he ofirst Spring (^rocus 

Thelma W. Groneman 

Come with me and I will show you 
Where the first spring crocus grows 
Beneath a hedge in wild abandon, 
Spills its gold on melting snows; 
Catching the robin's liquid notes, 
Coaxing the spring along to share 
The joy of newborn life and love. 
Come, and I will take you there. 

Nevada's Valley of Fire 

Wilhid Luce 

Willard Luce 


POLITICALLY, Nevada's Valley 
of Fire has a checkered history. 
At one time it was up for consider- 
ation as a national monument. 
When this was dropped, Nevada 
itself took it over as a State Park. 
Finally, the State withdrew its sup- 
port, and the Valley is now under 
the Department of the Interior, 
Bureau of Land Management. It is 
being considered as an addition to 

Page 236 

the Lake Mead Recreation Area, 
and as such would be placed under 
the supervision of the National 
Parks Service. 

But, regardless of the Valley of 
Fire's political affiliations, it is still 
a mighty interesting place to visit. 
Nevada Highway 40 is only twenty- 
three miles long, running from the 
Lake Mead Recreation Area to 
Crystal, on U. S. Highway 91 and 



93. Much of this twenty-three 
miles is through the jumbled red 
ledges of the Valley of Fire. 

Extending the borders of the 
Recreation Area would place the 
Valley of Fire under the jurisdic- 
tion of the park rangers who could 
help protect it from vandals who 
are now robbing it of its petrified 
trees, smashing and shooting its 
signs, and generally marring its 
natural beauty. 

The Valley receives its name from 
the jumbled strips of red sandstone 
ledges which lie like long, red welts 
across the drab Nevada landscape. 
Brilliant at any time, these ledges, 
two hundred to eight hundred feet 
high, become flaming red at sunset. 
The tops of the ledges are jagged 
and broken, making the ledges ap- 
pear even more like falls of flame. 

Within the Valley are numerous 

stone formations, including two 
elephant rocks. Fossils of marine 
reptiles and partial skeletons of 
camels have been found. Side roads 
lead to petrified trees and petro- 

Picnicking areas, constructed by 
the State of Nevada, are still fairly 
intact; but be sure to bring your 
own water. Near the eastern 
boundary of the Valley is the grave, 
marked by a large headstone, of a 
soldier who didn't. His death hap- 
pened a long time back, when the 
road was part of the old Mormon 
Trail to Las Vegas and Southern 
California. He died there in the 
shadow of his wagon, only a few 
miles from the Muddy River and 
less than half a mile from a spring 
up in the rugged sandstone ledges. 
Water, like gold, is where you find 
it there in the desert. 

[JUoubie {Beauty 

Lena Woodbury 

IN April^ Los Robles is the most beautiful street in Pasadena. It is lined on either 
side with the camphor tree, a well-branched evergreen with shining leaves. The 
trunk and branches are dark brown, almost black, a striking background for the glisten- 
ing foliage. In April the old leaves turn red and yellow and drop in great profusion 
as the new growth appears. The sidewalks are covered, the street is covered, the gut- 
ters are piled high. 

Is it Los Robles I love or is it memories of such scenes of my childhood? I am 
kicking through the leaves on my way to school, those great piles of red and gold and 
brown the rich treasures that the trees almost overnight have cast at my feet. I hear 
the crackle of them as I scuffle along. I see them flying before me m the wmd. All 
this flash of color and movement is mine to catch and to remember. 

I see my dearest older sister, even then a mother with several children, coming to 
visit mv mother. Seeing the lawn so covered with leaves, she kicks her feet joyously, 
flings herself down into the leaves, rolls delightedly down the slope. What freedom 
what joy' At the bottom of the lawn she rolls^ right into the small irrigation ditch full 
of water which had been hidden by the carpet of leaf color. 

As T drive up Los Robles in April I laugh. The laugh is for an autumn of long 
aeo A Utah autumn. For those who are no longer children, beauty is always double. 
The beauty of today, and just as immediate, the beauty of yesterday, are tied inseparably 
together by the ribbon of memory. 

(bixti[ ijears KyLgo 

Excerpts From the Woman's Exponent, April i, and April 15, 1894 

"For the Rights of the Women of Zion and the Rights of the 

Women of All Nations" 

AN ETCHING: It was a bright, clear morning in the Wasatch Range. The 
lofty, alpine valley near the head of the canyon, high up among the peaks, lay gleaming 
in the morning sun. White stemmed quaking aspens stood out in sharp relief against 
a background of dark pines. Their pale green leaves, shot through with golden sun- 
beams, trembled lightly in the gentle breeze .... Above and beyond the fringe of 
trees stretched an unbroken forest, and still beyond, yet in the near distance, rose rocky 
cliffs and snowy summits, outlined in grey and white against the deep blue sky .... 

—Anna D. Thrall 

SCHOOL OF OBSTETRICS AND NURSING: Mrs. Lizzie H. Shipp, professor 
and practical teacher of obstetrics, will open a school of obstetrics in Salt Lake City 
the first Monday in May. A half yearly course will be taught for the unprecedented 
low terms of ten dollars. 

• — Selected 


There will be glad rejoicing 

When the summer comes again. 
When the rivers break their fetters 

And the rills throw off their chains .... 
All living things as in one voice, 

Will unite in glad acclaim .... 
The vestments of glad adorning, 

Will be worn through earth's domain .... 
All its forces northward streaming 

When the summer comes again. 
— L. M. Hewlings 

WOMAN FARMER: Mrs. Virginia C. Meredith of Cambridge City, Indiana, 
proprietor of one of the finest Shorthorn herds in the country .... believes there is 
no spot equal to a farm for at once furnishing a competence and enabling a woman to 
establish a beautiful home and bring up her children nobly. 

— Selected. 

ference of the Sanpete Stake of Zion convened in the Spring City Meeting House, 
December 16th. President M. A. P. Hyde presiding. The branches of the Relief So- 
ciety of Fayette, Gunnison, Sterling, Moroni, Chester, Mt. Pleasant, Wales, Spring City 
and Ephraim represented. Counselor Sarah Peterson was pleased with the humble 
spirit manifested. Spoke at some length on the storing of grain and culture of silk. 
President Canute Peterson advised the sisters to gather wheat for it will be needed .... 

— Mary A. F. Hansen, Sec. 

Page 238 

Woman's Sphere 

Ramona W. Cannon 


FORD, of the general Rehef 
Society board, acted as the Utah 
vice-chairman of the 1954 cam- 
paign of the Crusade for Freedom. 
Last year, while serving in the same 
office, she received a personal ci- 
tation from the national committee 
for her outstanding service. This 
was signed by Admiral C. E. Wil- 
son, Henry Ford, and H. S. Miller. 
On a percentage basis, Utah was 
the highest 1953 contributor to the 
fund, of any state in the Union. The 
effect of messages distributed by 
broadcast, balloon, or otherwise, to 
the people behind the Iron Curtain 
from the people of America them- 
selves (not the Government) is 
astonishingly inspiring to the re- 

courageous come-back from po- 
lio, became, in 1953, the first United 
States girl ever to win the world 
figure-skating championship. One 
critic comments, ''She did to figure 
skating what Pavlova did to the 
ballet." A pre-medical student at 
Radcliffe, she has no ambitions to 
become a professional skater. 

TN January, Mrs. Hattie Whitney 
^ (Sidney G.) Saville died. She 
was a granddaughter of Newell K. 
Whitney, first presiding bishop of 
the Church in Utah, and the last 
member of the family of Horace K. 

and Mary Cravath Whitney, pio- 
neers of 1847. ^^^ ^^'^s ^ former 
president of Ensign Stake Young 
Women's Mutual Improvement As- 

TLONA KARMEL was a young 
high school girl in Poland when 
the Nazis invaded. She spent two 
years in concentration camps, where 
she wrote poetry on the backs of 
work sheets. She was later gradu- 
ated from Harvard University, where 
she is now a teaching-fellow. Her 
first novel, Stephaniaj was a Literary 
Guild selection last spring. 

Lake City musician and teach- 
er, was recently paid a high tribute 
by internationally famous Utah 
pianist Grant Johannesen, who 
spoke of his former teacher as being 
the ''most important" in his long 
career of piano study. 

OIRTHDAY congratulations are 
extended to Mrs. Augusta Sten- 
quist, Tremonton, Utah, for her 
ninety-ninth birthday; Mrs. Julia 
Caroline Beal Burr, Provo, Utah, 
ninety-six; Mrs. Amanda L. Pope, 
Garden City, Utah, ninety-five; 
Mrs. Anna Rogers Moyes, Salt Lake 
City, Utah, ninety-four; Mrs. Sarah 
Ann Smith Boren, Salt Lake City, 
ninety-two; Mrs. Amy Keister, 
Grand Island, Nebraska, ninety- 

Page 239 


VOL. 41 

APRIL 1954 

NO. 4 

Jtrbor CO 


Plant thou a tree whose grief less leaves shall sing 
Thy deed and thee, each fresh unfolding spring. 

— E. M. Thomas. 

■pVERY nation has in the pages 
of its history some heroes, some 
great deeds, or some incident in the 
national life which it desires to hold 
in remembrance, or some object to 
which it attaches some special 
significance. There are a number 
of the days on the calendar which 
are specially set apart as holidays 
in the United States. Most of these 
days are kept in remembrance of 
the past, but one of our American 
holidays turns its face toward the 
future, rather than toward the past. 
It is Arbor Day, which is kept as 
a symbol of progress, so that the 
children of the present may be able 
to prepare a blessing for the chil- 
dren of the future. 

Arbor day owes its origin to }. 
Sterling Morton, a former secretary 
of Agriculture, when he was a mem- 
ber of the Nebraska State Board of 
Agriculture in 1872. Before the in- 
auguration of this day, Nebraska 
was called the treeless state. On 
the first Arbor Day, more than a 
million trees were planted. During 
the next twelve years over 
350,000,000 trees, vines, and shrubs 
were planted. 

In the West there were many 
treeless plains, and this beautiful 
and useful custom of planting trees 
at once aroused the interest of other 
states, and the plan was generally 

Page 240 

taken up throughout the country. 
Arbor Day is set aside for the plant- 
ing of trees and shrubs around the 
homes, along the highways, and in 
other places, where they are need- 
ed, for future blessings and enjoy- 
ment. The purpose of this celebra- 
tion is to impress upon our boys and 
girls, our future American citizens, 
the necessity of planting trees for 
the security of our nation's material 
welfare, and to implant in their 
hearts a love of nature. Teachers, 
concerned over the rapid destruc- 
tion of the forests, have used the 
occasion to tell children of the im- 
portance of trees and to teach them 
their importance to the well-being 
of the nation. 

Whatever the date that Arbor 
Day is observed in the different 
states, it is a wonderful time 
for families to enjoy happy rec- 
reational hours together. Take a 
drive out into the country, note 
the quickening of the earth as a 
result of the warm sunshine that has 
penetrated the ground, see earth 
coming to life. An urge will fill 
your beings to plant. Why not 
plan a day of activity for the whole 
family? If there is a new tree to 
be planted sometime during the 
spring, why not allow the children 
to enjoy the pleasure and make a 
ceremony of it rather than to hire 


someone to come from the nursery driveway look at your house and 

for that purpose. Planting is the lot with the eye of a keen, observ- 

most delightful business of garden- ant stranger. What do you see? 

ing. Trees should be planted with Do your home and its surroundings 

intelligent thought. They should live up to their full potentialities 

be carefully selected and tenderly as beauty spots? We may not be 

cared for after they are planted, able to have costly homes, but we 

Children should be taught in the all can have clean, attractive yards 

home and in the schools to love and well-kept houses. Those who 

trees, the kinds to select for plant- hold office, whether church or 

ing in different localities, how to civic, should especially see to it that 

plant, and then how to protect and they set a worthy example in this 

care for trees. He who plants a tree regard. 

plants a future beauty and joy, and Get the spirit of Arbor Day, do 
not only for his own, but for a fu- some planting that will beautify 
ture generation. your property and your surround- 
However, we must remember Ar- ings. Encourage and help those re- 
bor Day means more than planting sponsible for doing so, to beautify 
trees. Shrubbery, plants, and seeds the grounds around the public 
of various kinds should be planted, buildings in your town. Let us each 
yards should be cleaned, lots and make this world a more beautiful 
the property around our homes place in which to live by truly ob- 
should be made more sightly. The serving this Arbor Day. 
next time you drive into your home —V. N. S. 

Tiellie W. Tieal [Resigns from the (general [Board 

TT is with regret that the general board announces the resignation of 
Nellie W. Neal as a member of the general board. Sister Neal came 
to the board in May of 1949 with experience and knowledge of Relief 
Society work from her position as a stake Relief Society president. 

Since her appointment to the board. Sister Neal has conscientiously 
and full heartedly carried out every assignment given her. She has given 
careful attention and thought to the work of education committees and 
special committee work. Particularly outstanding was her preparation of 
a set of lessons for special study. Her artistic ability was recognized and 
used on occasions. 

Sister Neal was alwavs ready to subordinate her personal wishes to 
the furtherance of Relief Society procedures and willingly carried out all 
instructions and recommendations. Her devotion and ability will be great- 
ly missed bv her associates who wish her success in her future endeavors. 



xyl L^entenarii of uielief Society \:yut of Lrnnt 


Centenary oi Relief Society was published for the one hundredth an- 
niversary of Rehef Society in 1942 and contains much valuable his- 
torical information concerning the activities of the society during its first 
one hundred years. It is now out of print, and the general board does not 
contemplate reprinting it, so we suggest that each organization, stake and 
ward, preserve one copy for reference. Those stakes or wards which 
already have them in their libraries should see to it that they are properly 
bound to preserve them and that the name of the organizaion is either 
printed on the cover or written on the flyleaf on the inside, so as to indi- 
cate clearly that it is the property of the society. Those organizations 
which do not already have a copy in their libraries should try to obtain 
one from someone in their stake or ward and have it bound. We recom- 
mend this same plan be followed in the missions. We suggest that these 
books be bound in one of the new synthetic materials, such as fabricoid, 
as this binding is considered more durable than leather. 

We have arranged with the Desert News Press, Salt Lake City, to 
bind the Centenaries in blue fabricoid with a 24-carat gold seal and letter- 
ing on it, according to our specifications, so that they may all be bound 
alike, and stamp the name of the society on the cover in gold for $2.25 per 
copy postpaid. A month to six weeks should be allowed for binding the 
books which should be sent direct to the Deseret News Press, 31 Richards 
Street, Salt Lake City 1, Utah. We recommend that stakes make this an 
early project so that every organization may preserve a copy of the 

[Boon of niormon uieaaing [Project 

DEPORT forms on The Book of Mormon reading project will be sent 
to stake Relief Society presidents in May 1954, and should be returned 
not later than July 15, 1954. The general board wishes to encourage all 
sisters to do the reading of The Book of Mormon for this year, which in- 
cludes from the Book of Jacob through the 8th chapter of Alma. In order 
for a sister to receive credit, the reading must have been done during the 
year in which the lessons have been studied in Relief Society. 

Page 242 

(Prelude 771 


Florence Jepperson Madsen 
Member, General Board of Relief Society 

npHE word prelude means: preced- 
ing or introductory. Prelude 
music has reference to the prelimi- 
nary music played just before the 
meeting begins. Its purpose is to 
introduce or create an atmosphere 
appropriate to the occasion. It sets 
a background for what is to follow. 

The music chosen for the prelude 
may be sacred or secular, depending 
on the nature of the gathering in 
which it is to be used. For instance, 
if it is to be played before a patri- 
otic meeting, a type of music is re- 
quired that will stimulate a feeling 
of dynamic patriotism, the type that 
makes an audience want to sing 
along with the music. It should, 
therefore, be vigorous in tempo and 
have pronounced rhythmical ac- 

On the other hand, a religious 
service requires prelude music of an 
entirely different nature, music that 
is sustained and tranquil and which 
generates a feeling of deep spiritual 
fervor and devotion. Such music 
stimulates listeners with an attitude 
of silent, worshipful meditation and 
prepares them for devotional serv- 

The organist and the pianist who 
have studied considerably have 
naturally accumulated a great num- 
ber of musical compositions cover- 
ing a wide variety of styles and 
types. The organist will have 
learned many numbers that can be 
used in church. The pianist, how- 
ever, will have studied an entirely 
different kind of repertoire; there- 
fore, will have fewer of the slow, 
sustained compositions that are best 

suited for church service. Neverthe- 
less, there are many numbers, such 
as Schumann's 'Traumerei" and 
Handel's 'X'argo," that can be 
played effectively on the piano as 
preludes in religious service. Other 
similar numbers may be found by 
looking through piano compositions 
in music stores. 

Through this procedure one may, 
at the same time, determine wheth- 
er or not one has the necessary 
technique with which to play the 
selected numbers. This is also an 
excellent way to become acquaint- 
ed with new music materials. 

Another important factor in re- 
lation to prelude music is that of 
the timing element. The music 
should cease at the moment the 
meeting is to begin. This means 
that the composition has been cor- 
rectly timed often enough to as- 
sure its rendition in the allotted 
time. On occasion it may some- 
times be necessary to shorten a 
number in order to use it. This 
involves careful judgment as to what 
should or should not be used. How- 
ever, when the composition is played 
it should still give the impression 
of completeness. There may also 
be occasions when it will be neces- 
sary to lengthen a number. This 
can be done, most generally, by re- 
peating certain strains or parts of 
the composition or by playing it 
through again. Here, again, timing 
is a vital factor. 

Efforts should always be made to 
use appropriate prelude music and 
to correlate it with the spirit and 
subject of the day. 

Page 243 

[Books for (cyrgamsts and [Pianists 


Organ Voluntaries, volumes I and II, Schreiner and J. Fischer $2.50 

Thiity-Eight Voluntaries for Reed Organ, Jackson & G. Schirmer 1.00 

Thiity-Eight Voluntaries ioi Reed Organ, J. Fischer 

volume I 1.00 

volume II 1.50 

Keed Organ P/ayer, Walter Lewis and T. Presser .90 

Foity-Thiee Organ Voluntaries, Lorenz 85 

Gems for the Organ, Shelley and G. Schirmer 1.75 

Harker's HnTmonium CoUection, G. Schirmer 1.00 

Ninety-Thiee Short Pieces for the Hammond Organ or Piano, 

Jackson and G. Schirmer (written in two staves) 2.25 


Sabbath Day Music for the Piano, O. Ditson 1.00 

Church and Chapel Vohmtaries, Dreisbach and G. Schirmer 2.00 

Chapel Musings, Perry and Presser 75 


Devotional Organ Music, Asper and Carl Fischer (also for 

electronic organ) 2.50 

Organ Voluntaries, volumes I and II, Schreiner and J. Fischer 2.00 

Church Music for the Smallest Organ, Nevin and J. Fischer 1.00 

Organ Melodies, Landon and Presser 1.50 

EccJesiae Organum, William C. Carl and John Church 2.50 

Organ Musings, Presser 1.50 

Chancel Echoes, William M. Felton and Presser 1,00 

Organ Vistas, Presser 1.50 

Twenty-Five Pieces for the Small Pipe Organ, Schreiner and J. Fischer 2.50 

The books listed are recommended by the Church Music Committee. 


Peery's Piano Voluntaries, Lorenz 1.25 

Church Service Selections for Organ or Piano, No. 2, Rodeheaver 1.25 

Chapel Voluntaries for Organ or Piano, Edward B. Marks 75 

Chapel Voluntaries for Organ, Harmonium, or Piano, Edward B. Marks 

(from Books I to X, inclusive) (2 staves) 75 

Thirty-Two Short Pieces for Hammond or Pipe Organ, G. Schirmer 

(arranged by Charles Boyd) 1.50 

The Sacred Hour at the Organ, Arno, Carl Fischer 2.00 

Sunday Piano Music (For Church and Home), Presser 1.00 

Piano Voluntaries, Presser 1.00 

Sacred Piano Album for Home and Church, Carl Fischer 1.00 

Twenty Preludes and Postludes for Pipe Organ, Truette, Schmidt 1.00 

The Liturgical Organist for Pipe or Reed Organ or Piano, 

J. Fischer and Brothers (two staves) (volumes 1-6) 3.50 

Belwin Organ Album, Belwin Music Company (volumes I, II, and III) 1.50 

Classic and Modern Gems for Organ or Piano, Presser 1.25 

Instrumental Church Service Selections (for Organ or Piano) Rodeheaver Co. 1.25 

Church and Chapel Voluntaries ior Piano, G. Schirmer 2.00 

School of Organ Playing (op. 31) edited by Shippen Barnes 2.50 

Page 244 



Because of the fluctuations in the prices of music, the above hst can only be 

The Etude, a monthly music magazine, has in it an organ and a piano department, 
with a question and answer division. The cultivation of the voice and choral work 
are also stressed. The chorister, as well as the organist, will find valuable information 
and help in this magazine. It can be found in most libraries, or one may subscribe for 
it. It is published by Theodore Presser Company, Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania, $3.50 per 

If the music hsted above is not available' at your local music store, it may be ob- 
tained from the following dealers: 

Beesley Music Company, 70 South Main Street, Salt Lake City, Utah 
Daynes Music Company, 45-47 South Main Street, Salt Lake City, Utah 
Glen Brothers Music Company, 74 South Main, Salt Lake City, Utah 

2546 Washington St., Ogden, Utah 
57 North University St., Provo, Utah 

■ ♦ 



ummer c/irepiace 

Elizabeth Williamson 

Arrange this pleasing composition for your fireplace for the summer months. Use 
a large piece of aged wood, or driftwood, which you may have had to clean up a bit 
by using a wire brush or sandpaper. Some pieces of driftwood have worn smooth 
as satin and need no cleaning whatsoever. Behind the wood, place a transparent bow 
which will not be obvious, and use Michaelmas daisies or small flowers with small 
foliase Dried field grasses are attractive, also. These almost neutral arrangements 
are dehcate and will not clash with brighter and more colorful flower arrangements m 
other parts of your room. 

Hal Rumel 


JLet LJour cJahle oJell a Story 

Helen S. WiUiams 

LOVE of parties is instinctive, virtually, to most of us. Friends just naturally seek 
friends to sew, to knit, or chat with, or to be entertained by someone who is 
talented in music or storytelling. 

To some a party means just to get together — nothing more — nothing less. To 
Florence C. Williams, however, a party, either large or small, is an occasion, an event. 
No matter who the guests are, whether they are two or three precious old friends who 
come for a bit of lunch, or twenty, or fifty persons of distinction invited to dine formally, 
Florence Williams gets an idea and develops it into an ingenious work of art, interest, 
and originality. 

What are the guests going to do? Have they any special interest? What are their 
hobbies? What season is it — and what is at hand to make this party something in 
particular? These are the questions Mrs. Williams asks herself when she begins to plan 
for a party. 

On her table and at her parties she uses the essential principles which make for 
artistry: first, beautiful color; second, a focal point of interest; third, a flowing rhythm; 
fourth, original and unique accents; and fifth and most important, harmony and beauty. 

Above is pictured a table set for a sewing-bee luncheon. It is exquisitely planned 
in every detail. Yet everything used could be found in almost any home. Three, six. 

Page 246 


or eight could sit around this table and catch the spirit for a dehghtful afternoon of 

A lovely bouquet exquisitely proportioned rises from a plain wicker sewing basket. 
Because the basket happened to be lined with yellow satin, Mrs. Williams chose pale 
yellow as her color scheme, and carried out all the details in harmony with the color. 
Daisies with yellow centers, grouped artistically, give the arrangement great style. They 
are arranged high and to one side. Then the soft ball of white yarn stuck with knit- 
ting needles, and the skeins of yellow wool in light and dark shades, balance the bouquet 
perfectly and create her focal point of interest on the table. 

Any lovely arrangement must have a feeling of motion, and the rhythm of this 
table is achieved by the pale yellow ribbons running artistically out from one side of 
the basket, with spools of yellow and white thread slipped on them and tied in casual 

The clever and necessary accents are the buttons, tape measures, and tiny emery 
bags in the shape of strawberries. These follow the graceful curving lines from the 
centerpiece to the corner of the table, creating a lovely sense of rhythm. They add 
interest and carry out the theme for the afternoon of stitching and knitting. 

A beautiful table always gives a feeling of complete harmony. The cloth, place 
cards, flowers, and gifts must blend to express the central idea. 

Thus the cloth used is pale yellow organdy, around the edge of which are ap- 
pliqued daisies, duphcates of the ones growing out of the basket. The place cards are 
large daisies (they may be artificial or natural). Their centers httle pincushions with 
yellow and white headed pins stuck upright in them. On the corner of the table rests 
the guest prize which carries out and completes the unusualness of the central idea. 

The box was originally just a plain plastic spool box bought at a notion counter, 
but it has been glorified for this lovely spring sewing bee with various shades of yellow 
thread. Each spool has a tiny ring of seed pearls, circling its top. The box itself, fit 
for a queen, has been adorned with gold braid and rows and rows of little pearls. The 
recipient of this lovely and unusual gift will have it to adorn her sewing table for 
months to come as a gentle reminder of a wonderful afternoon as the honored guest of 
a friend who entertained so beautifully. 

Yes, Florence Williams is an artist. She loves people, and her hobby is planning 
and giving ideas for parties, ideas that make her parties linger on and on in the mem- 
ories of those who attend. 

Surely after an afternoon at this lovely sewing party, the guests would leave hum- 
ming softly to themselves, "We are sewing, daily sewing," and thinking, why I could 
do a table on that order myself, and have my friends come to a party at my house! 

S/t uiappens ibvery Spring 

Verda Mackay 

Blossoms burst their bonds 

Fragile as chantilly lace 

Which each new spring is changed; 

Thus nature weaves a different pattern 

With all things rearranged. 

The Part-Time Heart 

Hannah Smith 

MAL was taking her out to 
dinner later, so Evelyn 
hadn't eaten with the family, 
but she had sat at the table with 
them. There was a lot of talking 
to catch up on, with her grandfa- 
ther home again after so long a 
time. The dining room on a chil- 
ly California evening was a pleas- 
ant place, with the overhead light 
drawing the seven Adams faces into 
an animated circle around the table. 

The words and phrases ran to- 
gether: '']oe says he hates the 
Korea weather . . . you give the 
flag salute tonight . . . four years 
before they put the road through 
. . . pinch of rosemary in it . . . 
you can always borrow a bugle . . . /' 

Rob, her twenty-year-old broth- 
er, was teasing his mother with a 
far-fetched account of his pre-medic- 
al school day; nineteen-year-old Kat 
had a letter from Joe Hanson in 
Korea she kept trying vainly to read 
aloud, and her father and Philip 
were arguing in a serious, impor- 
tant undertone about the scout 
meeting in the family basement 
that night. Then there was 
Cramps; there were so many things 
everyone wanted to ask him, even 
though they had been plying him 
with continuous questions ever 
since he got back from his trip to 

Evelyn sat with her chin cupped 
in her hands, her blonde hair fall- 
ing forward in two soft fans on 
either side of her intent, pretty 
face, looking first at one and then 

Page 248 

another of them, but most often 
at her grandfather, so worn and 
sparse-looking, his eyesight failing, 
but still seeming so young, hope- 
ful, and full of the serene happi- 
ness she always associated with him. 
She felt an echo of the same happi- 
ness within herself, with the family 
all together again at last, and ahead 
of her a long evening with Mai. 

Mai! She caught a glimpse of 
the clock and gasped out loud. 

''Oh, no!" She jumped up. ''It 
just can't be seven-thirty already! 
MaFs coming at eight!" 

"Hurry, hurry!" jeered Kat. "Old 
Sobersides will be mad if you're 

"Won't Deadpan wait for you?" 
Rob drawled, sticking out a long 
leg as if to trip her, as she started 
pell-mell for the door. 

Evelyn gave them an absent- 
minded grimace and dashed for the 
stairs. Running up to her room, 
she thought wryly of their nick- 
names for Mai. She couldn't won- 
der at them, really— there were two 
Mais, the reserved, stiff-faced one 
the family always met on his fleet- 
ing appearances in the front hall, 
and the Mai she knew and loved— 
the endearing and affectionate one 
who made her feel so special and 
priceless, the Mai she was going to 

She knew, though, that after what 
had happened Saturday, Mai would 
be even more stiff and uncom- 
municative tonight than usual. It 
would never do to let him know 


she had been dawdhng at the table evening— the first any of us had 

instead of getting ready; it would seen him for five whole years. I 

only add another point in the score couldn't have been away when he 

he was totaling against her family, came, now could I?" 

When the doorbell rang, she "If it hadn't been that it would 

grabbed up her coat and purse and have been some other vital family 

ran, but when she got to the land- affair." Mai shook off her hand 

ing she saw that Mai was already and strode ahead to open the car 

inside, talking to her mother. From door. ''Won't you be seeing your 

above he looked polite enough; grandfather every day from now 

there was even a smile on his dark, on?" 

craggily handsome face, but Evelyn Evelyn sighed, getting into the 

went down the steps so fast she car. She turned on the overhead 

was breathless when she reached the light so she could smile into Mai's 

downstairs hall. face as he came around and slid 

under the wheel. 

LJER mother turned a calmly "I love you, Mai," she said, plead- 

pleasant face and Evelyn drew ingly. "And this is the anniversary 

an unconscious sigh of relief. of the night we met. Let's not 

"Evie tells me this is a big even- fight, darling." 

ing, Mai. A celebration." Mrs. Ad- ''But it wasn't a year ago to- 

ams smiled up at him as she put night," Mai said stonily.^^ "It was a 

her arm around Evelyn. Usually year ago Saturday night." 

Evelyn would have returned the ''I wanted you to come over, too 

hug, but now, with Mai's eyes on —to spend the evening with all of 

her, she busied herself drawing on us. We had such a nice . . . ." 

her 2loves. *'I know. A nice family even- 

"I've been counting the min- '"&• . ,. . , 

utes!" she said gaily. ^ . Sl?e ran a ca,ohng finger along 

..T^ n .»» 1 J J i-T, his law, and he smiled reluctantly. 

"Really? he said and there was .^^^ ^^j ^ ^^ „ ^^ ^^.^ .^^^ 

a faint edge of hostili y in his voice. .^ ^^^^^ ^^ ^| sometimes that I 

He steered her out the door with ^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^ 

the briefest of goodmghts to her ^ou love me devotedly-part time." 

mother and-]ust as she had feared ^^^ ^^.^ ^^^ g^ ^^^^^^^ ^-^ 

-flared out at her before they were ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^.^^ ^g^^j .^^^^^ ^^^ 

off the front steps. ^^ ^^-^^-^ ^^^^ pj^^.^ special? I'm 

"Counting the minutes? Is that starved." 

why you broke our date Saturday p^g started the car. "Well, I 

night?" made reservations at El Polio for 

"Oh, honey!" Evelyn put her dinner, and I've got tickets for the 

hand on his topcoat sleeve, looking play at the Biltmore." 

up at his face. Even in the dark Evelyn put her cheek against his 

she knew his expression— that baf- shoulder for a brief minute. "Oh, 

fling blend of reticence and hurt. that's lovely. Just like last year. 

"I told you over the phone how You're sentimental." 

it was, Mai! Cramps got home that "Pretty foolish," he replied gruff- 



ly, "to be so sentimental, I mean. 
A man lays himself wide open when 
he's in love with a girl/' 

"Oh," Evelyn laughed, "you 
know that's what I like about you!" 

They drove into the parking lot 
beside the Mexican cafe and Mai 
helped her out. "I even got the 
same table we had last year," he 

Evelyn nodded with delighted 
recollection, as he seated her, won- 
dering if the two guitarists in the 
balcony weren't even playing the 
same music they'd played a year 
ago. "Everything's exactly the 
same. Except that there are a lot 
more drippings on this candle, the 
proprietor looks a good bit fatter, 
and Kat and Joe aren't . . . ." 

CHE broke off quickly, hoping 
Mai hadn't heard, but when he 
sat down she saw that his eyes were 
resentful again. 

"You wish they were, I suppose. 
Evelyn, can't you spend even one 
evening away from your precious 

She reached out to touch his 
hand, to make him look at her. 
"Mai," she said, holding his troub- 
led gaze, "Mai, I promise you, you 
come first with me. If you really 
knew my family, you'd know they 
wouldn't . . . ." 

"Well, well! Look who's here!" 

Neither Evelyn nor Mai had seen 
the tall, bald man or the little, 
bustling red-haired woman until the 
pair stopped beside their table. 

"Been wanting to meet this 

Mai gave them a blank stare, 
then glanced at Evelyn. She was 
returning their smiles with what ap- 
peared to be joyful warmth. 

"Why, hello. Aunt Laura! Uncle 
Fred! How nice!" 

"We won't be butting in if we 
sit with you, will we?" The little 
woman was already motioning to a 
waiter. "Bring a couple of chairs, 
will you?" 

Mai had struggled to his feet; he 
took Aunt Laura's coat, shook 
Uncle Fred's hand. He didn't look 
at Evelyn. 

"My this is a pleasant surprise," 
Aunt Laura kept saying. "Been 
wondering when we'd see you, 
young man!" She wagged a coy 
finger at Mai, and Evelyn groaned 

"Marry into the Adams family, 
boy, and you'll see relatives a-plen- 
ty!" Uncle Fred was saying, giving 
Mai a heavy wink. "Are those en- 
chiladas any good?" 

Mai nodded. "Very," he said. 
He sounded polite enough, but the 
painful color in Evelyn's cheeks 

Aunt Laura kept up a steady flow 
of high-pitched inconsequential 
chatter, punctuated by Uncle Fred's 
heavy rumble, and Evelyn replied, 
smiled, nodded, as her misery in- 
creased by the minute. 

When the waitress came for their 
dessert order, Evelyn shook her 
head. "We'll have ours somewhere 
after the show," she said quickly. 
"We're in a bit of a hurry; we're 
going to a play." 

Out in the car she turned to Mai 
with a rueful smile. "Mai," she 
pleaded. "I'm sorry. Aunt Laura 
is— well, sort of silly, I know. We 
don't see them often, but they're 
very good-hearted . . . ." 

Her voice trailed off, knowing 
her words sounded weak, defensive. 



"lyf AL laughed shortly. "Sure you 
didn't tell them we were com- 
ing? That you'd feel lonesome 
without some of the Adams clan 

She sighed, *'0h, honey, what 
can I do to prove to you that I'm 
not tied to my family? That this 
idea is . . . ." 

"I'll tell you," Mai said suddenly, 
seizing her hands. "Evelyn, let's 
get married next week. No wedding 
breakfast. No reception." 

Evelyn stared at him, wide-eyed. 
"Oh, Mai! There's no reason for 
us to . . . ." 

"Isn't there? You said once you 
didn't want a big fuss. Was that 
just talk?" 

"No! No, I meant that. But a 
wedding breakfast at home with 
just the . . . ." 

The motor roared. "Just the 
family/" Mai said. He backed 
swiftly out of the parking lot. He 
gave her one bitter glance. "Just 
the family," he repeated scornfully. 
"Not even a groom, maybe. That 
sums it up, I guess." 

Evelyn saw that he wasn't driv- 
ing toward the theatre, but she 
didn't care. She stared straight 

"It— it would hurt Mom's feel- 
ings . . . ." 

"Marriage is made for two. And 
no more," he insisted. 

Of course Mai was right. Per- 
haps she was too dependent on her 
family, but how could she hurt 
their feelings? 

They had stopped in front of her 

"Well," Mai said, and his voice 
was distant, gentle. ''I guess this 
is goodbye, isn't it, Evie?" 

All at once she was in his arms, 
and he was kissing her. 

"No, no," she whispered, but that 
was all she could say. 

npHE house was quiet when she 
opened the door, although it 
was still early. When she tiptoed 
upstairs she saw there was a light 
under her grandfather's door, and 
she went by as quietly as she could 
to her room. As she sat by the 
front window, the clock downstairs 
struck eleven- thirty, then twelve. 
Still wide awake, she opened her 
door and saw that the light still 
shone from under her grandfather's 
door. She needed to talk with 
someone who would understand. 
Then she heard a slow step and a 
hesitant tap on her door. 

She opened the door a crack. 
"Yes?" she whispered. 

It was Gramps, looking very small 
in his too-large, shabby bathrobe. 
"Thought I heard you moving 
around. Thought maybe you'd like 
to come over and talk awhile be- 
fore you go to sleep." 

His near-sighted gaze was eager 
and lonesome, and she thought, in- 
voluntarily, of the long years he had 
been gone— how she had missed 
him. She followed him across the 

"Why don't you get into bed? 
I'll read to you," she said, knowing 
that his eyesight could no longer 
cope even with a newspaper head- 

"Fine!" he said. "That would 
be fine, dear." 

"Anything in particular?" 

He pointed to the Bible on his 
bedside table. "Anything. You 



She opened the book at random 
and began to read, her mind on Mai 
and her own problem. The words 
hardly made sense to her, but she 
kept her voice at a lulling, steady 
monotone, and in awhile the old 
man fell asleep. She put the book 
down quickly and tiptoed out, con- 
scious that some fragment of what 
she had read was staying in her 
mind, but she pushed it back as 
she had the rest of her thoughts. 
She stood at her own window again 
and saw Mai walking up the front 
steps. She ran quickly down the 
stairs to meet him, before he could 
ring the bell, wondering why he 
had returned. 

**0h, honey, honey, I couldn't 
wait until morning," he said. "I was 
so afraid you would never want to 
see me again.'' 

It was then that the words she 
had read to her grandfather came 
back to her, as sharply clear as if 
Mai himself had said them to her 
aloud. "Perfect love casteth out 

"Mai," she said, "Fm not going 
to have a hurry-up wedding with- 
out my family there. Tonight 
when we were talking, I thought 
you were right, that I was too 
entangled in my family. But now 
I know what is wrong between 
us. Mai, you're the one with the 
part-time heart. You can't trust me 
when I'm away from you; you won't 
believe in my love. As long as you 
feel that way, our marriage would 
never succeed. We have to have 
faith in each other." 

He clutched her arm. "Evelyn, 
you make your choice — it's I or your 

She shook her head. "If you went 
to the other side of the world to 

live, I'd go with you. That's not 
the question; I know that now. If 
you're so jealous now of my family, 
so suspicious, it would only be 
someone, something else, if we went 
to the end of the world together." 

He let go of her arm and drove 
away, while she stood watching him 
from the front door. 

When she awakened, sun was 
streaming in the windows. She sat 
up and caught a glimpse of her pale 
face in the mirror, and the memory 
of the previous night clutched at 

Was I wrong? she wondered. 
Just as she was starting to fasten 
the belt of her dress, the doorbell 
rang. She hardly noticed it, but 
the sound of the voice in the down- 
stairs hall stopped her, her eyes 
widening with incredulous hope. 

She ran into the hall and looked 
over the banister. Sure enough, 
Mai was talking to her mother. He 
hadn't seen her. She cou'ldn't read 
his expression or tell anything from 
the tone of his voice. 

". . . mind calling Evelyn?" he 
was asking. 

"Of course. She isn't up yet, 
though. Why don't you come in 
and have some breakfast with us 
while you're waiting?" 

Evelyn held her breath. Mai hesi- 
tated for a long second. Then: 
"Why, yes," he answered. "Yes, 
I'd like to." 

Forgetting how she looked, aware 
of nothing but the golden miracle 
of the morning, Evelyn ran down 
the stairs. 

"Mai! Mai!" she called. "Wait 
darling! Wait for me!" 

She caught up with him at the 
door and they went in to join the 
family together. 

(gardening for the aiome freezer 

C. W. McCuIIough 

To enjoy a garden, put on a wide hat and gloves, hold a little trowel in one hand, 
and tell the man where to dig. 

npHE above plan has a legion of either gardening or home freezing, 
devotees, but this article is not These are widely discussed in seed 
dedicated to those who practice catalogues, government bulletins, 
their backyard agriculture vicarious- and magazine articles that you 
ly. Rather it is directed to those probably have in your home. Others 
who prefer the fruits of their own are available at your library or 
labors; those who find the spring through contact with your county 
catalogue of the seedsmen the most agent, your state agricultural col- 
fascinating document in print; those lege, or state department of agri- 
who react instinctively to the chal- culture and home economics, 
lenge of a freshly plowed or spaded A garden should be carefully 
plot of ground. planned, not only to insure the 

Home gardening, probably almost planting of varieties that do well in 
as old as man, has experienced the your particular climate and altitude, 
greatest uplift in its history during but of equal importance, to insure 
the last few years with the discovery that what you raise will find a ready 
of the means of preserving food- market on your table. A great mis- 
stuffs by quick freezing. When man take of tyro-gardeners is the grow- 
perfected this new means of put- ing of vegetables the family do not 
ting Jack Frost to work, more was care for. Consider the turnip! If 
accomplished than just to introduce turnips carry a low popularity rat- 
an ingenious kitchen appliance. Bar- ing with your family, plant them 
riers to the seasons were broken sparingly, or better, not at all. Use 
down, barriers between the menus the space for crops the youngsters 
of the frigid, temperate, and tropic- like, and, if you must, get your 
al zones— and in our little backyard turnips downtown at lunch, 
gardens— the barriers between sur- Another mistake is over planting, 
plus wastes and economic usage, the temptation to use up that pack- 
The home freezer has given ''the age of seed. If your garden must 
man with the hoe" a new incentive be laid out in long rows, it is often 
and value. wise to divide these rows in half 

Thanks to the home freezer, the with stakes, and limit plantings of 

products of a garden that could be a variety to a half row. 
enjoyed only for a brief season, can 

now be prisoned in an icy package JN planning a garden for freezing 

and kept practically garden fresh the products, one must give first 

throughout the year. place to those that freeze well and 

No attempt will be made to cov- are old standbys: corn, peas, beans, 

er the entire field of desirable re- beets, carrots. Then you can make 

gional practices or the pitfalls of your choice from a long list that in- 

Page 253 



eludes cabbage, cauliflower, broccoli, 
spinach, squash, melons, and as- 
paragus, guided by family tastes, the 
amount of ground available, and cli- 
matic limitations. To round out 
your garden patch, some space 
should be allotted to small fruits, 
strawberries, and raspberries. 

Here are a few general sugges- 

Spinach and broccoli: keep plantings 
small and follow with later plantings, ten 
days to two weeks apart. 

Corn: If your season is long enough 
for early and late varieties, plant each in 
blocks of several short rows rather than 
one long row. You will get better polli- 
nation and better filled ears. Ear worms 
can be controlled by dusting with an ap- 
proved insecticide or dabbing on crank 
case drainings as soon as the silks appear. 

Peas: The larger varieties, such as 
Stratagem, Dwarf Telephone, or Giant 
Stride yield heavier and are easier to pick 
and shell. 

Cabbage and cauliflower: Buy the 
plants for these! Dust with a powdered 
insecticide several times during the grow- 
ing season to outwit the bugs. After 
cauliflower heads have formed, tie up 
leaves around heads to prevent sunburn. 

Strawberries: The everbearing va- 
rieties are best for the home gardener. 
They provide fruit all summer and well 
into the fall. The Centennial is recom- 
mended. Plant in rows eighteen inches 
apart, spacing plants a foot apart. After 
three or four years of bearing, dig up a 
third of the patch and replant with 
young runners. Repeat this every year, 
and you will have young plants always 
coming on. Everbearing strawberries tend 
to bear heavily and then go into short rest 
periods, followed by new bearings. These 
bearing and rest periods vary with ages 
of plants, so by staggering the ages of 
your patch you will always have berries 
for table use. Keep well watered, and 
if berries become small, scatter a good 

commercial fertilizer along the rows and 
wet down with lawn spray. For regular 
irrigations, row waterings arc best. 

Raspberries: Here again, the ever- 
bearing varieties are recommended. Rasp- 
berries require plenty of elbow room; 
three to four feet between rows and at 
least two feet between plants. Single 
plants fill up unused corners attractively. 
If heavy snows tend to break down canes, 
drive stakes into ground in the fall and 
tie up plants. Remember that the canes 
that grow this year bear the berries next 

Weeds: If treated right they are the 
gardeners best friends. A well-weeded 
patch is necessarily a well cultivated one. 
Get after weeds early before they get the 
upper hand and stunt the growth of the 
things you've planted. 

Time for Freezing 

One of the delights of growing a 
garden is that many varieties mature 
quickly. The dividends accrue rap- 
idly both in terms of table use and 
largess for the freezer. Nearly all 
garden products can be frozen sat 
isfactorily; the exceptions being 
onions, lettuce, and other salad 
greens, radishes, and tomatoes. 
With your own garden close at 
hand, you can pick, pack, and freeze 
each product at the peak of its 
goodness and thus retain vitamin 
and flavor richness. 

Freezing is one of the simplest 
and least time-consuming ways to 
preserve foods at home. A complete 
guide of the preferred methods of 
preparing, packing, and cooking all 
types of foodstuffs suitable for freez- 
ing is to be found in Home and 
Garden Bulletin No. lo. Home 
Freezing of Fruits and Vegetables, 
published by the Superintendent of 
Documents, Washington, D.C. It 
will be mailed to you for fifteen 


cents. More detailed directions not cook or otherwise wrap before 

may be found in Your Home Fieez- freezing. This insures a firm cob 

er, by Ann Seranne (Doubleday & and no cobby taste after cooking. 

Co., Inc., New York, $3.75) and Snap beans are usually cut or 

ihe Complete Book of Home broken into short pieces. For va- 

Freezmg, by Hazel Meyer (J. P. ^iety, try freezing a few packages 

Lippmcott Company, Philadelphia, of the whole beans. These are par- 

^4-95 )• ticularly nice for salads and can be 

One general rule should be re- substituted for asparagus either as a 

membered. Nothing but the best base or for top garnishment. 

is woithy of freezer space. What Cantaloupes and wateimdons 

you put into your locker, if properly ^hen frozen provide another tasty 

handled and protected, can be pre- sahd ingredient. Cut choice ripe 

served in the same good, fresh con- meat into balls or cubes and pack 

dition in which you freeze it— but f^ a container. 

it will not be improved It is ex- p^^ ^^^ ^^^^^^ ^^ ^^^^^^ u^^^^^., 

treme ly important to be sharply ^^^^^ ^^ -^^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^i^^^^. 

critical of the fruits and vegetables f^^^^ . ^^^ ^ ^^^ ^^^-^^ ^^^3 

you select for freezing. Discard -^ ^^^' f^^^^^f ^^^j^ ^^^ „„, 

everything with bruised or overripe ^™ ^d. Allow an hour at room 

spots, as well as the underripe that temperature for peaches to thaw, 

have not reached their full peak of ^ ^^-^^ ^^^^ f^^ ^p^i^^^s. Peel and 

^^^^^* slice just before serving. Dieters 

who cannot eat sugared fruits will 

Preparation for Deep Freeze find these a delectable addition to 

Everyone who uses a deep freeze their menus, 

for any length of time picks up Fiuits, such as peaches, apricots, 

many ideas and practices that are and pears, tend to turn brown when 

not always found in the books. Here frozen. This can be prevented by 

are a few gathered here and there adding one half teaspoon of ascorb- 

that may contribute to a fuller and ic acid to each quart of the sugar 

more varied use of your freezer: syrup used in packing them. 

Vegetables, being pre-cooked be- All fruits should be served as 

fore freezing, need less time for soon as thawed. A few ice crystals 

cooking than fresh ones. Cook just in the fruit improve the texture 

long enough to tenderize and thus for eating raw. Allow six to eight 

preserve vitamins, bright color, and hours for thawing a one-pound syr- 

fresh flavor. Vegetables should be up packed package in the refrig- 

cooked at once after thawing, start- erator; two to four hours at room 

ing while they are still partially temperature; one-half to an hour 

frozen. in a pan of cold water. Fruits 

Corn is best cut from the cob packed in dry sugar thaw somewhat 

after blanching. For winter gour- faster. A little experimenting will 

mets a few whole ears may well be give you the proper time intervals 

frozen. For this, choose choice of your type of container between 

ears and leave the husks on. Do freezer and serving. 

I ie\K> ^Jjesigns for ibaster (bggs 

Courtesy Dennison Manufacturing Company 

Here is a basketful of ideas to help you design the many eggs to fill some lucky 
youngster's Easter basket. The simplest of materials are used to create these amusing 
art studies in egg form! 

Starting with the basic form — the egg — we suggest that you buy a dozen china 
ones, the type farmers use to set an example for their negligent flock. These are sturdier 
than their genuine brothers and will keep indefinitely. Of course, if you prefer, you 
may use real ones, either hard boil or blow each egg before decorating it. Eggs may 
either be dyed with any pure food dye or covered with pastel crepe paper. In addition 
to material used for coloring eggs, you will need bits of colored crepe paper, paper lace, 
doilies, paste, scraps of mat stock, ribbons, tiny gummed dots and hearts. 

To make these masterpieces proceed as follows: 


Step 1 — Color eggs — dye them, following the directions on the dye package, or wind 
them with Yi inch wide strips of crepe paper cut across the grain, pasting strips fre- 
quently as you wind so they will stay in place. 

1. CYNTHIA: Here's a charming little lady all done on an egg! Wrap the egg 
first with pink crepe paper (or use a pink dye) to give her a lovely glowing complex- 
ion. Her dashing hairdo is made from narrow strips of yellow crepe paper curled around 
a knitting needle on the ends. Her mouth is a gummed heart — her eyes light blue and 
white crepe paper, with curling black eyelashes. A paper lace doily makes a fetching 
hat, especially when dashingly decorated with a pompon of slashed light blue crepe 

Page 256 



2. PERSONALITY EGG: Use the favorite colors of the recipient for this egg, 
a nice pastel one for the background, with two contrasting colors teaming up to make 
the two-strand braid. The name is written with a Vi inch wide strand of a deeper 
shade, twisted to make a fine cord. Trace name on egg first. Apply paste over written 
name with a toothpick to hold twist in place. Trim edges from a paper doily, paste 
in place, allowing it to flare slightly. Paste braid over inside edge of doily. 

3. FLOWERS IN A FRAME: Cover the egg with orchid-colored crepe paper 
and decorate it with a braid of pink and deep rose crepe paper. Make rosebuds by 
cutting two-inch wide strips of crepe paper across the grain in several shades (light 
pink, dark pink, red, yellow). Unfold a strip and wind it on itself to make a tiny roll 
about Vi inch thick, then cut oflF remaining length of crepe strip and paste another 
color to the roll. Roll this second strip around first roll to make a V^ inch thick strip. 
Repeat process with third color to make a three-colored rose. Paste end of last strip 
down to roll, and paste ''rosebuds" on egg, using a few leaves cut from green paper 
to complete the bouquet. 

4. QUIGLEY THE QUACK: Wrap two eggs with canary yellow crepe paper. 
Cut two bill patterns from mat stock and cover with amber crepe paper. Paste to 
narrow end of one egg. Cut eyes from colored writing paper (blue), and for the 
center of the eye, cut a small square of black paper. Paste eyes on sides of egg. Paste 
the "egg head" on top of another paper-covered egg towards the wide end. Wind 
around the neck a strip of yellow crepe paper tie ribbon and make a bow. Then paste 
the completed Quigley to mat stock covered with amber crepe paper. 

^Jjirections for (gardening 

Maude Rubin 

One principle of landscaping, 
As all good gardeners know, 
Is planting taller plants in back 
In front plant something low. 

For the back, I chose chrysanthemums 
You know how tall they grow — 
In front, placed English daisies 
As something sweet and low. 

I watered them; I studied books 
On gardening in all phases. 
My daisy flowers are big as mums — 
My mums look just like daisies! 

diirst {Bloom 

Sudie Stuart Hager 

In springtime every woman knows 
(No man could ever guess) 

The way a half-grown peach tree feels 
In her first pink party dress! 

LUesert cy lowers 

Vesta N. Lukei 

The brief 

Bright jewels of spring 

Are spilled in amethyst. 

And topaz drifts across the gold 

Of sand. 


uiandx^ork (jLobbies iunng uiappiness 

Rose Paskett Cooke Thompson, Corinne, Utah, has made hundreds of rugs, 
doihes, tablecloths, and decorative items. 

Mrs. Thompson, sixty-two, has made about five hundred braided rugs, six hundred 
pieces of miscellaneous crocheting, crocheted edges on more than one hundred fifty 
handkerchiefs. She has given away about four hundred pieces of crocheted work, and her 
crocheting has been exhibited in twelve states. She also makes exquisite artificial 
flowers. She has another hobby of raising outdoor flowers, specializing in iris, of which 
she has about two hundred varieties, and roses of seventy-five varieties. 

Her Church work has included many years of service in the Primary Association, in- 
cluding four years as ward president; teaching in Sunday School; and visiting teacher 
and theology class leader in Relief Society. She has thirty grandchildren (including 
step-grandchildren) and four great-grandchildren. 

Page 258 

^Participation in (Relief Society Can SKelp 

Jxchie\?e oJrue uXappiness 

Edith Kaneko 

THE greatest happiness is ere- teachers was Brother Payton Alex- 

ated through service— serv- ander, and his Seminary teacher was 

ice to our fellowmen and to Brother LeRoy Whitehead. 

God. Happiness comes from with- After our marriage we decided to 

in. It is the result of satisfying the strike a happy medium and settle 

soul. We have a responsibility to in Spanish Fork, which is about 

be happy, not alone because of its halfway between our former homes, 

effect upon us, but because of its That was in 1941, when war clouds 

effect upon others. By living the were hanging heavily over us, and 

commandments of God and giving I often wondered how the people 

of our time and service to others, of Spanish Fork would react to our 

we may forget our difficulties and coming, since there were strained 

also spread happiness to others. feelings between the people of the 

In regard to this, I asked our land of my ancestors and the people 

ward Relief Society President, Pearl of this, our beloved country. Would 

Fillmore, what the Relief Society they accept us, and if they did, to 

has done for her. Was it just a whom could we look for compan- 

lot of hard work, or just what did ionship? 

it mean to her? Such questions ran through my 

She told me, 'Tes, there is a lot mind constantly as we worked at 
of hard work— hours and hours of making a home for us and our Httle 
it; but the joy Fve received from boy, who was just one year old at 
seeing the happiness that has come the time. As if in answer to a 
to others through my efforts has prayer, one day in the autumn of 
repaid me many fold. Also, coming that year, two Relief Society visit- 
to Relief Society meetings and as- ing teachers came and invited 
sociating with the sisters has helped me out to Relief Society. Sister 
to take my mind off our trials and Ann Nelson and Sister Fanny Vin- 
tribulations." cent have probably forgotten this 

I should like to relate my person- little incident, but I have not, he- 
al experience, because in it I can cause the visit they made to me 
best explain how true happiness was opened up a way towards a greater 
passed on to me through an act of and brighter life. Little do they 
kindness by two of the Relief So- realize how much they have con- 
ciety sisters of my ward, an act that tributed toward making my life 
may have seemed trivial to them. what it is today. They were so 

I was born and reared in Tre- friendly and so sincere that I had a 
monton, Utah, and my husband strong desire to attend their meet- 
was born in Salt Lake City, but ing. 

spent most of his life in Gunnison, However, I was just a little hesi- 

Utah. One of his high school tant, so I asked my husband how 

Page 259 


he felt about it. He told me that portunity to satisfy my desire to 

since I was invited, I should go. So sing. 

two or three weeks later I attended As time went on, I was getting 

my first Relief Society meeting, to the point that I thought that I 

still a bit doubtful. But all my ^ad attained the height of happi- 

doubts and fears left me when I ^ess, but, on second thought, I rea- 

entered the meetinghouse and went ijzed that I had not, and I would 

into the Relief Society room. Never never attain that goal, because I 

before had I been in a place where ^^s not a member of the Church, 

friendliness prevailed in such rich and for that reason my services to 

abundance. I could feel that the the Church were very limited. 

T'^''^ 1^^ Lord was there, al- j ^ ^^^^ little boy to 

^u^'^u Kl^"^ "''*^''"^ ^^''''^ *^^ Sunday School, because I felt that 

Church at that time. .^ ^^^ ^^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^-^ ^g. 

ligious training began at an early 
^EVER will I forget the warm age, more so because it had been 
welcome extended to me by neglected in mine. I believe it was 
Sister Ida Anderson, who was the during these moments that my de- 
president at that time. I shall never sire to join the Church grew strong- 
forget her kind personality and the er than ever. I often hoped and 
sweet smile with which she quickly prayed that some day I would be 
put me at ease. I did not have the able to serve the Church and the 
privilege of knowing her very long, Lord in the same capacity as all 
as she passed away a short time my friends were doing, 
later. I went home from Relief years slipped by, with this desire 
Society that day with a feeling of growing stronger and stronger. Our 
satisfaction that there are friends, boy^ Dayij, was nearing the age of 
if we look in the right places for eight, and it was my fervent wish 
them, and I had a stronger desire gg ^gll as my husband^ to see him 
than ever to go back again. baptized into the Church at this 

It wasn't very long until they age so that he could take advantage 

asked me if I would like to become of the spiritual opportunities which 

a member, and this was a great sur- the Church offered these young 

prise to me, as I thought that only children. 

those who belonged to the Church r^^^^ j ^^^ . ^ ^^^ wonderful 

were allowed that privilege. As time -^ ^^^j^ ^^ .f ^-^ ^^^^^ts could join 

went on, I became more and more ^-^^ ^^^ the three go down into 

acquainted with the activities of the waters of baptism together. But 

the Rehef Society and of the j ^^^j^ ^^^ that my husband was 

Church in general. ^^^ ^e^^y f^^ this yet, and I did not 

A short time later I was asked to want to be baptized unless he was 

join the Singing Mothers, and no with me, because in these few years 

one can realize the joy I experi- I had learned that a man and wife 

enced from my participation in that must be together, for neither can 

work, because I love music, and up attain exaltation without the other, 

to that time had had very little op- It was my earnest prayer that some 



day he would see the Hght as I had 
already done and accept the gospel. 

r\AVID'S eighth birthday came 
and went, and we did nothing, 
and by the time he was eight and 
one half I began to wonder if my 
hopes were in vain, but I wouldn't 
give up, because something told me 
that everything would turn out all 
right. Then about two months be- 
fore David's ninth birthday, when 
I asked my husband what he 
thought about it, he said, *'If that 
is what you want, then that is what 
I want. I, too, am ready." 

The following day— the day of 
our confirmation— it all seemed like 
a dream that we were actually par- 
taking of the sacrament, and as we 
took it we felt the presence of the 
spirit of the Lord as we had never 
felt it before. Until this day we 
had been merely existing. From 

that day on, we really began to live. 
Now we are able to participate in 
all activities of the Church just like 
the other members, and thus our 
service to the Lord is not limited. 

But we realized the height of 
happiness had not yet been reached 
at this point. We learned that in 
order to have this joy in the world 
to come, we must go to the house 
of the Lord and be sealed to each 
other. Meanwhile Duane and Paul 
had joined our family, so two years 
after the baptism, the five of us 
went to the Salt Lake temple and 
were sealed to each other for time 
and for all eternity, and now we 
have little Diane, born under the 
true and everlasting covenant. We 
have found true joy. I need ask 
for no more. All this spiritual 
wealth was brought to us through 
the little service rendered by the 
two Relief Society sisters. 

cyulips in the Vi/ind 

Evelyn F/eldsted 

Bending forward in a gale, they seem 

To all be going somewhere far away, 

But, in the changing evening wind, they turn 

And seem to hurry back while it is day. 

Morning finds them standing straight and tall, 
A garden study in tranquihty. 
Undaunted by the wind and lingering frost, 
They raise their regal heads triumphantly. 

^t Tllast (Be Spring 

Hild^ V. Cameron 

It must be spring, 

For my honeysuckle vine 

Is splotched with pastel beauty 

Like a lovely valentine. 

And at dawn this morning 

I heard a robin sing; 

Though chilly winds torment me, 

I know it must be spring. 

Sunshine and U\ 


Ruth K. Kent 

It takes a lot of clouds 
To make it rain all day; 
It takes a lot of sun 
To drive the clouds away; 
It takes a lot of frowns 
To make a child look sad, 
But only one big smile 
To make a child feel glad. 

"Within Our Reach" 

Donna Day 

THE boy, emerging from the ture lay down the long, straight 
flow of sleep, lay quietly in autumn road, 
his bed on the back porch. The wheels of the car stirred and 
With intense loneliness, he con- rattled the brown leaves, and 
templated the tremendous and mov- they scattered down the road be- 
ing quietness of awakening. Could hind them as noisily as rustlers on 
one awaken and continue dream- a midnight ride. A sagebrush plain 
ing? The slow consciousness of his appeared as the road ran level and 
surroundings took shape out of unbroken to the base of the distant 
shadow. That first light brought mountain. Then the land swept 
the sudden realization that tomor- upward to the lift of the crater's 
row they would go to the crater. No, shoulder. The crater was not as big 
not tomorrow. Today/ Lifting as the boy had anticipated, 
himself abruptly, he started to The mother parked the car at 
climb out of bed. There were so the base of the mountain, and the 
many wonderful things to see and two started the climb up the steep 
think about. side. It was a desolate slope, warm 

Suddenly his mother stood in the and dusty. Coarse cinder ash 

kitchen doorway looking upward, sucked at their feet. The pea-sized 

Out of the glowing east, spears of lava fragments were pierced by 

sunlight illuminated her face and scrub brush and rough salt grasses, 

put a glitter in her pale hair. She Their breath came in short gasps, 

shook out her apron as if it were with the sensation that the world 

sun crumbs she was scattering. was slipping back while they were 

Quickly the boy was out of bed standing still. But, at last, they 

to inquire fervently if his mother reached the first level, where an old 

remembered the promised visit to road wound around through the 

the crater. red and. gray rocks. The boy and 

Could she forget when a pair of his mother sat down to rest. It was 

wide, inquiring eyes looked at her? changed air they breathed, ancient 

The boy dressed quickly in the and aromatic, 

circle of the warmth made by the Shortly the boy stood up and 

kitchen range. The bacon sput- studied the magic-shaped cone that 

tered and the eggs bounced in the towered above them. The crest 

bubbling water. seemed to have risen a little toward 

After breakfast he carried their the sky like an elevated, dancing 

lunch to the car. When, at last, platform. The boy gazed up with 

he was in the car, he could not sit an awe that is only for those who 

still. His heart knew a strange are young. The whole marvelous 

soaring. He had waited all summer mystery of creation came rushing 

for this trip to the crater. Adven- down to meet him, and then, he 

Page 262 


was off up the old road that curved tous journey from which no child 

around toward the heart of the era- returns the same. 

^^^- She lay down beside the boy on 

The mother rose and followed, the hard flowing rock. The top of 

humbly, the golden and jubilant life the crater lay baking in the fire of 

of childhood. the October sun. She could feel 

her skin broiling a little in the heat. 

A few minutes more and the wind- It was not an invisible thing. She 

ing road on the crater's flank could see the heat dancing and v/av- 

ended. Then, gully by gully, ing like a veil. But the heat was 

fold by fold, over the fire-red rock as nothing, for the mother sat with 

they advanced, pathless, toward the her son in a magnificent frame, sur- 

top. The ancient volcanic stream rounded by the silent beginning, 

spilled down the sides in rude, lim- and received into the enduring past, 

itless convolutions. Their feet Centuries and centuries of time 

crunched and slipped, the sliding pressed against them, each distort- 

rocks flung handfuls of lost echoes ed convolution of cold lava became 

down through the ragged crater a chapter of history compiled 

edges. Light from above, refracted, through the ages. Eons of rain and 

stung their eyes, and flooded the wind had beaten and chiseled the 

jutting rocks with a thousand colors, crater. The fiery birth of creation 

They finally stood on the top, on lay sleeping all about them. The 

the edge of the highest cone, and desolate and violent country was 

surveyed the gaping chasm below, part of their homeland and their 

Two smaller craters overlapped the heritage, stretching from the base 

western side. of the cones to the dark lines of 

The boy flung himself on his mountains on the horizon. Cloud 

stomach, staring transfixed, his shadows passed above the timeless 

mouth open a little, his tousled wilderness, followed by sunlight 

head tilted on one side. His hazel that crept across the land, 
eyes, lost in wonder, were never 

still. A dye made of sunshine and HPHE boy and his mother watched 

afternoon stirred his hair to quietly for a long time and 

creamed gold and coppered his skin, knew the communion of silence, 

Those were moments of breath- which was the strong binder of their 
less silence while the crater yielded affection. Finally, the boy stood up 
up its peculiar, savage kind of beau- with restlessness, stretched himself 
ty that whipped and sharpened the with one sharp movement. Then 
imagination. Then the mother he opened his arms wide, taking m 
heard the boy s fast, indrawn breath, all the crater, the whole earth, the 
The boy was regarding the scene everlasting heavens, in a great em- 
with both curiosity and consterna- brace. His face was pleased, warm, 
tion. His eyes were squinting, now, For a moment the face turned to- 
with intensity of purpose, his wide ward the mother was the face of a 
forehead puckered. His mother young child before a lighted Christ- 
knew he had started that momen- mas tree. His mother reached up 



and took his hand in hers. He play- 
fully tugged her to her feet. 

Across a lazy spot where salt grass 
and rabbit brush crowded each oth- 
er in the shallow soil, then down 
into the wide mouth, they threaded 
their way. Down scaly outcrop- 
pings the boy picked a path, with 
his mother's slender shadow behind, 
down steps cut in the immemorial 
past. It was a wonderful thing to 
go plunging down, digging heels in, 
the sensation of falling, yet not 
falling, stiffening the knees and dig- 
ging the heels in, the sheer joy of 

Time had tamed the giant vol- 
cano with its spectacular eruptions. 
Strange shapes, which marked its 
death agonies, crowded the wide 
pit. Against the blue steep of the 
sky, terrifying crags overhung the 
rim; the black angular rocks, sheared 
and smoky, clung about the walls. 
Stealing through a gap between two 
towering stones, the mother and 
the boy entered the crater, shad- 
owed from the afternoon glow by 
the southern pinnacles. Concealed 
in the mottled shadow, they mount- 
ed a dais of weird, grotesque stones 
and climbed the precipices with 

their eyes, up and up to the gaping 
hole cut by the ancient lava flow. 

It was like standing in a great 
amphitheater with a ragged hole in 
its side, tremendous, dark, leached 
by a thousand storms, brimming 
with reflected lights. The fragile, 
transparent blue of the sky deep- 
ened above until the color could 
reach no further intensity. It broke 
off suddenly into a bank of clouds. 
To the mother, it was like being 
alone in the vast universe, but to 
the boy, it was part of the eternal 
earth, something he had always 
known, like the slow awakening on 
an autumn morning. 

It was one of the perfect days of 
life snatched from the confusion 
of living, a day of pleasure that 
nothing could corrode, nor time re- 
move, a part of the precious herit- 
age of childhood— and of mother- 

The hour, the height and depth 
. . . everything had sharpened their 
appetites. They would be fam- 
ished by the time they reached the 

The mother watched the boy for 
a moment longer, then she slowly 
followed him up, up toward the 
slanting light. 

Kjifter JLong LJears 

Beatrice Knowlton Ekman 

After long years of questing to and fro. 
This homely kitchen is a restful place; 
Tlie smell of burning pine, the rudy glow 
Of firelight upon each loved one's face . . . . 
Let me find anchor here and end my quest 
In this old house that memory has blessed. 

qJ V Viewers — LOown in cfront 

Eloise Stiinz 

'T^HE problem of keeping the youngest member of our family seated during a television 
-'■ program, arrived with the nevv' set. The youngest was given the place of honor on 
the ottoman, front row center aisle. Being a wiggler from way back, he wouldn't stay 
put. With his head in front of the screen, we viewed the back of his neck. 

Young children have an excellent close range vision. This accounts for their desire 
to sit close to a viewing screen. However, their interest is too short-lived to retain one 
position long. Since their boundless energy must be considered, miniature seats are out. 

The preservation of our family television unity cost only $2.76 — and a little sewing 
time. I made a slipcover for the crib mattress our baby had outgrown. For the ben- 
efit of mothers who must use the crib for the next in line, a second-hand crib pad, 
sterilized, can be obtained for a few dollars. 

With four and one-fourth yards of thirty-six inch denim, at fifty-nine cents a yard, 
a packet of snap fasteners costing twenty-five cents, I had everything I needed to work 
with. Denim may be obtained in plain colors or in designs of floral pattern and plaids. 

A standard crib mattress measures fifty-six by thirty inches, and is four inches deep. 
Cut the top and bottom covering first. Allow five extra inches on the top cover. This 
will be used as a flap at the open end. 

On the remaining material, mark strips four and one-fourth inches wide. Nip and 
tear in strips. Sew the strips together. Twice the length and once the width will be 
used for the sides of the cover. The remainder of the strip will be used for a ruffle. 

Roll hem on one side of the strip, to be used for the ruffle. On the raw side of 
the strip, measure every three inches and pleat one inch of material with a basting stitch. 

For the top covering, hem one end with a one-inch fold. Roll hem either side 
for a depth of five inches. Attach the ruffle with the design facing the design of the 
top cover. Pin the siding strip, its design turned away from you, on top of the ruffle. 
Sew the width of the cover, starting at the end of the rolled hem. This pleating, or 
ruffle, encircles the top cover. While working on the bottom cover, the material is 
turned wrong side out. Do not attach fasteners until the slip cover is finished. Then 
mark carefully as this assures a better fit. 

The mat, with its slip cover, resembles a well-tailored pillow. It can be tucked 
away in a closet when not in use. Don't be surprised if the older children find it 
comfortable to lounge on. Of course, the legal owner will have something to say 
about this. 

No longer is it necessary to tap our youngest on the shoulder during a program and 
say, "Pardon me, but your head is showing." 


Alice Whitson Norton 

The gentle voice of springtime called, 

"Come walk with me" — 

But I denied the urgent voice. 

Lest I might see 

Along a path I'd marked with gloom 

A crocus border in full bloom. 

Page 265 

The Deeper Melody 

Chapter 7 
Alice Money Bailey 

Synopsis: Steven Thorpe, a widower 
with three small children, is in love with 
Margaret Grain, a registered nurse who 
has taken care of his baby during an at- 
tack of pneumonia. However, Margaret 
is engaged to Dr. Rex Harmon, and, as 
the time for her marriage approaches, 
Steven feels that he has little chance of 
winning her. In the meantime he has 
become unwillingly involved in a romance 
with Miss Tate, his secretary at the 
Pikes Peak Machinery Company. Mar- 
garet's mother, a widow, who is temp- 
orarily acting as Steven's housekeeper, tells 
him that she thinks he should declare his 
love for Margaret even though she is 
about to become the wife of Dr. Har- 
mon. Accordingly, he seeks an oppor- 
tunity and tells Margaret that he loves 

4 4 T love you, Margaret/' Steve 
I repeated. His words were a 
pebble dropped into a pool 
of silence; her reaction to them like 
widening rings of light— the deep 
look of joy, the swift glad lift of her 
eyes, the radiance in her face, which 
brought Steve to his feet, his heart 
pounding mightily. Suddenly he 
was around the desk, and she was 
in his arms. Kissing her was a lost 
interval in time and space. Its mo- 
ment, brief or long, was part of 
infinity, part of eternity. She was 
the first to pull away. 

"Steve! Steve, it's no use." 

''Margaret! I love you so much. 
Look at me, darling." 

"I can't," she said. "I'm on 
duty. I'm engaged to Dr. Harmon." 

Steve released her and stepped 
back. "I know that. I've thought 
of nothing else for weeks. Believe 
me, Margaret, I'd have come before 
if I'd thought I had either a right 

Page 266 

or a chance. You've drawn me like 
a magnet since the very first. I felt 
you were my own, made for me. 
I was sure long ago, but there was 
Dr. Harmon. There were my chil- 
dren. It seemed unfair to ask you 
to share such responsibility." 

"I'm trained to responsibihty, 
Steve," said Margaret. "Besides I 
love the children— Davcy, Ilcne, 
and little Phyllis. I could take them 
for my own. In spite of me, I did 
take them for my own. I found 
myself planning for them as they 
grew. I couldn't sleep, sometimes, 
thinking of them, feeling I was run- 
ning out on them. That was why 
I shut myself off from them." 

"And their father?" prompted 
Steve. "Were you a little drawn to 

"Please, Steve," she said, lifting 
miserable eyes to his. "I have felt 
guilty enough about that. I didn't 
tell Rex, but I tried to make it up 
to him." 

Steve's heart leaped. A million 
questions pressed his tongue. He 
leaned across the desk to her. 

"You don't love him. You love 

"What are you saying? He's a 
wonderful man, and a genius in his 

"That is not love," Steve began, 
and the telephone rang. 

It was the dreaded interruption, 
an emergency. Before his eyes 
Margaret was transformed from an 
appealingly uncertain woman— all 
woman— to an alert nurse, full of 
authority and decision; from the 



circle of his arms, from being his 
own a moment ago, she receded 
from him rapidly, becoming remote 
in the urgency of her work. From 
this distance she spoke to him with 

''Steve, this is madness. The in- 
vitations are out— some gifts have 
already arrived. Dr. Hanson and 
his wife have loaned us their beau- 
tiful home for the reception. Every- 
thing is arranged. Of course I shall 
marry Dr. Harmon,*' she said, and 
disappeared swiftly down the hall 
on her soundless nurse's shoes. 

CTEVE left the hospital with 
mixed feelings. Her answer had 
cut him sharply, left no opening, no 
possibility of continuance. His hope 
of changing it was balked by sheer 
lack of time, but the remembrance 
of her quick look of joy, her radi- 
ance, her tacit admission that she 
was emotionally drawn to him were 
warm knowledge. And that kiss! 
If she could deny that, she was less 
of a woman than he thought. 

It was knowledge and memory 
that turned inevitably to pain, how- 
ever, as the days followed. It was 
part of all the beauty he wanted 
to share with her, and could not, 
of the flowers that were on every 
hand, the flowers which were the 
usual messengers of a man's love 
for a girl, which he could not send 
—lilacs, violets, roses coming to bud 
on the trellises in the May sunshine. 
There were other messengers- 
books, candy, letters. She had his 
message, straight and hard, and bare 
of embellishments. Bombarding her 
with pleadings now might be only 
an annoyance to her during the days 
which should be those of happy 
anticipation. They could, granting 

he were persistent enough, harry 
her into a confused and forced de- 
cision. Much as Steve wanted her, 
he told himself, he could bear no 
half measures. Certainly the next 
move was hers. 

The week was a nightmare. Part 
of Steve worked furiously on the 
job, went through the motions at 
home, smiled at the correct time, 
said the right words, made the right 
moves. Part of him stood back and 
watched almost impersonally the 
holocaust seething within him. He 
must again assume his old responsi- 
bility for the little ones, which late- 
ly had been left mostly to Mrs. 
Grain. Eventually they would fill 
his time and his thoughts, and 
neither would be a loss, for, along 
with the worry over them and the 
compounded fears he had for them, 
they were a constant delight, a 
source of perpetual amazement to 
him, as well as heart-tugging pathos, 
as when they talked of their moth- 

"Did my real mama die?" Davey 
asked one day. 

"She went away," Steve said. 

"Did she go to heaven?" 

"Yes, Davey. She's waiting there 
for us. Some day we'll go to her." 

"Ilene go to heaven Saturday," 
Ilene put in brightly. Everything 
in the past was to her "last morn- 
ing," and everything in the future 
was "Saturday." "Ilene go Satur- 
day. See Ilene's mama. Bring her 
home again." She laughed and 
shook her curls in gamin delight, 
and Phyllis laughed, too, clapping 
her hands and wrinkling her small 

"Saturday I'll take you all to 

the circus," Steve promised, to 

(Continued on page 275) 


Maigaiet C. Pickering, General Secretary-Treasurer 
All material submitted for publication in this department should be sent through 
stake and mission Relief Society presidents. See regulations governing the submittal 
of material for "Notes From the Field" in the Magazine for April 1950, page 278, and 
the Handbook of InstiuctionSy page 123, 


Photograph submitted by Laura M. Wilkin 


September 30, 1953 

Front row, left to right: Verena Waldron, First Counselor; Laura M. Wilkin, 
President; Elmina Toone, Second Counselor; Coy Manning, chorister. 

At right end of second row, in dark dress, Ireta Arave, organist. 

This group, which presented the music for the opening session of the Relief 
Society General Conference, September 30, 1953, also presented in Oquirrh Stake last 
spring the Easter cantata "Resurrection Morning," by B. Cecil Gates and Ida R. All- 
dredge. Sister Marianne C. Sharp of the general presidency of Relief Society was guest 
speaker. A special scriptural reading was given by Pearl Apostle. Special solo and trio 
numbers of the cantata were given by Ward Coon, Ivor Pickering, Shirley J. Duke, 
Betty Lou Jones, and Alice Gourley; Betty Heath, Helen Jeppson, Florence Cockerill, 
and Jeane Smith. Pianist was Billie C. Andreason. This same group has sung for 
stake conferences and other special meetings sponsored by the Church and the com- 
munity recently. 

Page 268 



Photograph submitted by Esther Miller 


Seated, left to right: Vida Brinton (1945-1952); Fanna Dana (1909-1913). 
Standing, left to right: Mary Davis (1938-39); Clara Goodman (1939-1943); 
Eleanor Shupe (1932-1938); Irene Brown (1943-1945). 

Not in the photograph is Mary Clark, deceased, who served from 1913 to 1932. 
Esther Miller is the new president of Maricopa Stake Relief Society. 

Photograph submitted by Claire B. Jones 



Front row, seated, left to right: Viola Bauer; Vera Nelson; Arvilla Adams; Belle 
Jones; Lauretta Perry, stake Secretary; Verona Mosdell; Ardella Ford, First Counselor; 
Lillian Randall, President; Lamona Langford, Second Counselor; Rena Lawrence; Thel- 
ma MelHng; Nell Heywood; Maude Robinson. 

Back row, standing, left to right: Leah Bess; Henrietta Leigh; Genevieve Mailing; 
Harriet Hunter; Beth Ence; Astella Cason; Rose Lawrence; Olive Knell; Lottie Bladen; 
Mary P. Bauer; Theressa Peterson; Alice Matheson; Carol Draper; Caroline Jordan; 
Loie Jean Murray; Nina MulHner. 

Claire B. Jones is president of Cedar Stake Relief Society. 



Photograph submitted by Edith Anderson 

CONVENTION, December 29, 1593 

Front row, seated, left to right: stake board members, beginning second from the 
left: Second Counselor Lucille Chandler; President Delia W. Alder; First Counselor 
Dorothy Zaugg; literature leader Hazel Closner; Magazine representative Amy R. Wil- 

Edith Anderson, stake Secretary, reports: "We hold a convention each year. We 
stress the true spirit of visiting teaching and twelve visits each year to each Latter-day 
Saint family. We honor those teachers who achieve 100 per cent visiting teaching. Some 
of our teachers have been so honored for nine consecutive years. One hundred thirteen 
visiting teachers out of 187 in the stake were honored this year for 100 per cent rec- 
ords. Only part of the teachers are represented in this photograph." 

Photograph submitted by Amelia H. Robertson 



Front row, seated, left to right: Mary Helen Giles; Ethel Winkelman; Louise 
Hawley; Ruth Hecht. 

Back row, standing, left to right: Vada Tirrell; Zona Roper; LeNore Lewis; Irene 
Safford; Elizabeth Bunn. 

Ameha H. Robertson is president of Big Horn Stake Relief Society. 



Photograph submitted by Luella W. Walker 


Standing at extreme right: Edna B. Taylor, stake chorister. 

Standing at left of the piano: True R. Field, organist. 

Luella W. Walker is president of South Summit Stake Relief Society. 

Photograph submitted by Lyle J. Coombs 


OFFICERS, January 1954 

Front row, left to right: DeLoris Carruth, President, Fresno Second Ward Relief 
Society; Zella L. Sheley, President, Tulare Branch Relief Society; Marguerite Mangine, 
President, Exeter Branch; Thelma Little, President, Hanford Branch; Corine Watson, 
President, Merced Ward; Emerald Mentzel, President, Dinuba Branch. 

Back row, left to right: Virginia Castillo, Secretary, West Fresno Branch; Ina Clay, 
President, Chowchilla Ward; Ethyl Buttcane, First Counselor, Coalinga Branch; Sarah 
C. Thomas, President, Avenal Branch; Barbara Works, President, Fresno First Ward; 
Golda Henderson, President, Visalia Ward; Naomi McEwen, President, Los Banos 

Ascencion Carillo, President, West Fresno Branch, and Eva Winsett, President, 
Coalinga Branch, were absent on account of illness when this photograph was taken. 

Lyle J. Coombs, President, Fresno Stake Relief Society, reports: "All of the of- 
ficers were very modest when we asked for pictures for the Magazine, but we felt that 
they all should have recognition for what they have done. As a group, they are re- 
sponsible for the Fresno Stake showing improvement all along the line, as shown by 
our annual report." 



Photograph submitted by Grace C. Crandall 




Officers and Visiting Teachers, front row, seated, left to right, members of the 
presidencies who have served during the past six years: Minerva Jessee; Helen Robbins; 
Hazel Harrison; Floss Phillips; Margaret Huntington; Ethlyn Eddington; Ina Otteson. 

Second row, standing, left to right: Emily Crandall, who recently celebrated her 
ninetieth birthday; Ellen Erdman; Chloe Fox; Ileen Jensen; Mamie Curtis; Carrie 
Rawle; Stella Harmer; Mildred Graham. 

Third row, standing, left to right: Mary Frandsen; Floss Taylor; Lillian Crandall; 
Florence Simkins; Anabelle Llewellyn; Naomi Johnson; Ella Curtis; Edna Smart; 
Camilla Judd; Preal York; Bessie Brammel; Norma Strong; Nellie Anderson; Easter 
Harmer; Rowena Rigtrip. 

Grace C. Crandall is president of Kolob Stake Relief Society. 

Photograph submitted by Vinetta R. Simpson 


Front row, seated, left to right: Rhoda Mumford; Leela Ferrin; Ellen Weaver, 
Secretary-Treasurer; Lillie Belnap, Second Counselor; Pearl Dransfield, President; 
Maude K. Smith, First Counselor; Annie Hiatt, oldest member, ninety years old. 



Second row, seated, left to right: Hannah B. Evans; Frances Owens; Lelia Wright; 
Janie Ophenkins; Jennie Bragonjie; Vinetta Simpson; MiUie Garff; Priscilla Sneddon. 

Third row, seated, left to right: May Hansen; Eva Bothwell; Anna Boyle; Rhoda 
Wilker; Muriel Saxton; Annie Terry; Dora B. Peterson; Sadie Masters; Edna Hunt; 
Alice Kihlstrom. 

Fourth row, standing, left to right: Eva Galbraith; lone Toller; Marjean Nasfel; 
Isa Law; Dorothy Grange; Helen Watkins; Cleora Bywater; Violet Stoney; Ella Burt; 
Lois Purdie; Lillian Binnie, visiting teacher message leader; Roma Broun; Ethel Ehlert; 
Viola Royle. 

Not present when the picture was taken were Dorothy Tanner, Gwen Evans, Helen 
Russell, Mary Donaldson, Rosetta Young, Mae Rowan, Laverna Shumaker, Carry Wads- 
worth, and Vivian Putman. 

Pearl VanDyke is president of Weber Stake Relief Society. 

Photograph submitted by Nina J. Langford 


AT WORK MEETING, September 1953 

Front row seated, left to right: Eillen Roberts; Verda Bouchard, theology class 
leader; Lamanda Ray; Luella H. Byram, Secretary-Treasurer; Mattie G. Ray, stake 
theology leader. 

Second row, seated, left to right: Eliza Rawson; Cora Poll, former secretary-treas- 
urer, who served for many years; Mary Cook, former president; Lavern J. Poll, Presi- 
dent; Ada H. Cornia, First Counselor; Eva Ray. 

Back row, standing, left to right: Annie Russell; Edith Peek; Thora Moore; Nellie 
M Staples work meeting leader; Murnine Foster; Rose Watts; Fay H. Ray, Second 
Counselor; Mae Bambrough; Stella Poll; Ethel C. Earl, hterature class leader. 

Erma V. Jacobs is president of South Ogden Stake ReHef Society. 



:*-v;>.5<p:s?^'«sisrts3»i'- "<5~?. - 

Photograph submitted by Thelma G. Maloy 



Left to right: Fae G. Gordon, Secretary; Pearl H. Walters; Beth G. Ellsworth; 
Lola D. Richardson. 

Twenty-eight members were enrolled in this ward Relief Society in January 1953. 
The bazaar consisted of several beautiful displays, including kitchen aprons and fancy 
aprons, embroidered and crocheted pillowslips and tablecloths, a lovely satin quilt, many 
novelty items, and some decorated plates. 

Thelma G. Maloy is president of Mount Graham Stake Relief Society. 

Photograph submitted by Maude Warren 




Front row, seated, left to right: Ruth Jewkes, First Counselor; Ora Jensen, Presi- 
dent; Florence Mortensen, Second Counselor. 

Maude Warren is president of Carbon Stake Relief Society. 

The Deeper Melody 

(Continued from page 267) 
change the subject, his heart aching 
for the motherless Kttle things. Per- 
haps a man should deliberately, 
and coldly, hunt a wife to fill such 
a hopeless gap in his family. Per- 
haps he was to be blamed for con 
sidering such fine points as his own 
emotions when his children were in 
such need. Perhaps he should try 
to overcome his aversion to Miss 
Tate, for when Margaret was gone 
what would anything matter? Yet 
he could not think of Miss Tate 
and Ellen in the same thought. 
With Margaret it was different. He 
felt that Ellen would approve of 
Margaret. In the early days of 
their marriage they had talked as 
all young couples do. 

''If I should die," she had said 
then. "I want you to marry again." 

He had laughed too loudly at the 
idea, because of the premonition 
that had darkened his heart, and 
had gripped her to him. 

"You won't die," he had told her 
fiercely. "And if you do, you will 
always be my wife." 

Well, she was gone; but she was 
still his, and now, without loving 
her any the less, he also loved 

He was musing, Steve told him- 
self, as if there was still hope for 
him with Margaret, as if his love 
had not been ill-fated from the start. 
If he had met her a few months 
earlier— if he had recognized in- 
stantly what she would come to 
mean to him— if her need of him 
had equalled his need of her (for 
that had always been the missing 
ingredient)— if— if— if her wedding 
was not a mere few days away. 






. Come To the Fair and 
Eleven More 75 

.. Harms Auditorium Collec- 
tion-Vols. 1 & 2 ea. .75 

. Fox Library Collection— 
Vol. I 85 

. Let's All Sing 85 

Robbins Choral Collection 1.00 

. Sacred Choruses 90 

Showtime Choral Collec- 
tion— Vol. 1 75 

.. Witmark Auditorium 

Collection 75 

— Music Sent on Approval — 
Use this advertisement as your order blank 

45-47 South Main 
Salt Lake City 1, Utah 

Please send the music indicated above. 
n On Approval D Charge 
n Money Enclosed 



City & State 



unes ^ 

'mmie Uy. 

45-47 SOUTH 


Page 275 



Friday he worked through the 
noon hour, and Miss Tate brought 
him a roast-beef sandwich and a 
half pint of milk when she returned 
from her lunch. It tasted good, as 
well as saving him precious time. 
Of course he told her as much, 
thanking her sincerely. 

''Steve, youVe looked so formid- 
able the last few days I didn't dare 
tell you I have tickets for the 

"You shouldn't have done that, 
Miss Tate," Steve said. 

''But Jascha Heifitz is going to be 
guest artist, and I know you won't 
want to miss it." 

"I'm sorry. I can't go," Steve 
told her. "I'm sure many others 
would be glad to share vour tick- 

"It is that girl— Miss Grain- that 
we met at the theatre," observed 
Miss Tate quietly. "You love her, 
don't you, Mr. Thorpe?" 

Steve lifted surprised eyes to 
hers. "Yes I do, Miss Tate. Very 
much." A part of his mind noted 
her resumption of the use of his 
last name, and was pleased. "She 
was Phyllis' nurse, you know." 

Steve could see his admission was 
a blow to her, even though she had 
expected it. He could see her think- 
ing she had acted unwisely, and 
then grasped a straw of hope with 
a new thought. 

"Didn't she introduce that doc- 
tor as her fiance?" 

"Yes," admitted Steve, thinking 
suddenly that this was none of her 
affair. "I'm afraid it is Miss Grain, 
or no one, with me. It seems very 
probable it will be no one." 

"Oh," said Miss Tate. 

If Steve expected tears, as there 
had been once before, he was mis- 

taken. Miss Tate lifted her head 
in a gallant gesture. "My boy 
friend is soon due out of the army," 
she said. "And that is exactly how 
I feel about him." 

Steve knew she was not telling 
the truth, that she had no "boy 
friend," but in that moment he felt 
sorry for her. 

Later, when he went through her 
office he noticed that her eyes were 
red from weeping, and that she was 
typing with exceeding vigor. She 
turned to the files quickly to hide 
her face, pretending to search for 

"Good night, Mr. Thorpe," she 
called after him, and her voice was 
light and impersonal. 

CATURDAY he took the children 
to the circus, and they had 
everything— pink popcorn, balloons, 
the merry-go-round, and finally 
seats in the big tent for the three- 
ringed show. Steve was enjoying 
it doubly, seeing it through their 
ecstatic eyes. 

They had left home in all the 
splendor of shining cleanliness, and 
in the beauty of their new clothes, 
but their activities thus far had 
altered the picture somewhat. 
Davey's hands were sticky from 
popcorn, Phyllis had ice cream on 
her nose and chin, and Ilene had 
spilled her popsicle down her dress. 
Steve regarded these as natural ca- 
lamities, which a bath and clean 
clothes would remedy, once they 
were home, until Davey shouted 
"Other Mama!" and was gone, 
Ilene scrambled after him toward 
a point above and behind them on 
the benches. Steve, wiping Phyllis' 
face with his handkerchief, twisted 
to see. 



Of course it was Margaret, and 
the whole picture was instantly 
readable. Dr. Harmon was with 
her, and between them sat a pale 
little fellow with crutches and 
braces. He was undoubtedly still a 
small patient at the hospital who 
had had a rough time. Obviously, 
Margaret had donated her after- 
noon off and Dr. Harmon's time 
to showing him a good time. It was 
just as evident, from the cold dis- 
taste on Dr. Harmon's mouth, that 
it was Margaret's idea. Steve's two 
had thrown themselves upon her 
with abandon, and her arms were 
about them both, crumpled clothes, 
wind-blown hair, and sticky fingers 

Steve leaped up to retrieve them, 
but Margaret shook her head vigor- 
ously. Steve noticed the white line 
of fury about Dr. Harmon's mouth, 
and settled back wickedly to enjoy 
himself. For a man who did not 
seem to like children, Dr. Harmon 
was certainly in a distressing predica- 

OHYLLIS had seen Margaret, 
however, and stretched her arms 
toward her. Margaret moved the 
children, making room for Phyllis 
on her lap, and motioned Steve to 
bring her. He complied gleefully, 
watching Dr. Harmon all the while. 
This last was too much for that dig- 
nified gentleman. He rose, pale 
with anger. 

"Margaret, let's get out of here." 
He didn't bother to recognize 
Steve, or to be civil, but strode out, 
carrying the little boy. There was 
nothing for Margaret to do but 
follow. Steve's heart smote him, 
and his mirth turned to bitterness. 






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seeing the disappointed look on the 
httle crippled boy's face. 

He and the children stayed, but 
Steve blamed himself for spoiling 
Margaret's time. He went through 
all the motions for the sake of the 
children, but for him the day had 
lost its glory. Above his chagrin at 
having let his children embarrass 
Margaret in public, v^as the fact 
that he himself had precipitated 
what would obviously end in un- 

After the circus-weary children 
were bathed and in bed that night 
he sat in the silent semi-darkness 
of the living room and touched 
again the depths of despair. It was 
literally the end of what had been 
a heavenly interlude in the lives of 
himself and his children. 

Actually, Mrs. Grain's bags were 
packed and standing in the hall. 



Relief Society Women 




Claas No. 1 is now under way ; Class No. 2 
is being organized ; and Class No. 3 is scheduled 
for the future. So get together a group of 
your friends and enroll in one of these special 
typing classes designed to help you keep 
genealogy records, personal papers, and any 
other typewriting you might need to do. 
Evening classes. 

You are always cordially welcome at . . . 



70 North Main — Salt Lake City, Utah 

The ^ride of 
Your JCihrary! 

Your Relief Society Magazines when hand- 
somely bound into permanent yearly yolumes 
acquire new value as excellent reference books. 

$2.50 (Cloth Binding) 
$3.50 (Leather Binding) 
Per Volume 
If necessary to mail them to you, the follow- 
ing postage rates will apply. 

Distance from 

Salt Lake City, Utah Ro*« 

Up to 150 miles 25 

150 to 300 miles 28 

300 to 600 miles _ 34 

600 to 1000 miles 42 

1000 to 1400 miles 51 

1400 to 1800 miles 60 

Over 1800 miles _ 69 

Leave them at our conveniently located nptown 

Deseret News Press 

31 Richards St. Salt Lake City, Utah 

Phone 4-2581 


Steve could see them from where 
he sat, and they were a dark blot 
on his consciousness. Mrs. Grain 
and Margaret were to be the guests 
of Dr. Harmon's friend, Dr. Han- 
son, where the reception was to be 
held. In the next week there would 
be a round of teas and parties. 
In the morning Mrs. Grain would 
be gone; tonight was Margaret's last 
duty at the hospital. 

In an agony of despair and long- 
ing Steve could visualize her slen- 
der figure moving along the halls as 
the clock crept around past nine, 
beyond ten, to eleven. She would 
be off now, riding home with Dr. 
Harmon. Steve sat in the loneli- 
ness of his sleeping household 
while his mind went seeking her 
across town, his heart declaring his 
love for her in a worldless outpour- 
ing, and his mind compelling her 
to hear its message and to come to 
him. So intense were his feelings 
that the telephone bell, pealing out 
in the midnight quiet did not startle 
him, but was an answer to his com- 
mand. He knew before he lifted 
the receiver that it was Margaret. 

''Steve!" she said and there was 
pent up emotion in her cry. 

''Margaret! Margaret, darling," 
Steve answered in kind, and in the 
long silence which followed: "Dear- 
est, what is it? What has hap- 

"Steve, I'm glad you, not Mother 
answered. I've done a most terrible 
thing. Nobody, not even she— no- 
body in this world will understand, 
nobody but you. Steve, I need 

"Hold on, sweetheart. I'll be with 
you in five minutes," cried Steve, 
and raced for his car. 

{To be concluded) 




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Silent uieturn 

Blanche Kendall McKey 

I have come back. 

I, through our longing, 

Have pierced the strange wicket. 

I have come back. 

Not only to see you, Beloved; 

Not only to waken your heart 

To the springtime; 

But to be for a day what I was. 

Oh, Beloved, 

When you knew I was here! 

UJogv^ood cJime 

Mary Gustafson 

My feet would walk the woodland 

Where dogtooth violets bloom, 

With trillium and fairy bell 

And wild rose for a loom 

On which to weave a stretch of dreams 

Across a crowded day, 

To the melody of lark and thrush . . . 

For memorv's resume. 


Mason 6l Hamlin 

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Three 1954 Conducted 


Sails from Los Angeles May 24 


Leaves Salt Lake City July 21 


Leaves Salt Lake City August 6 

The HISTORIC TRAIN includes: 
Places of Interest In Church History, 
the Pageant at the Hill Cumorah, and 
many large eastern cities. 

For complete details write or phone: 


966 E. So. Temple — ^Telephone 4-2017 
Salt Lake City, Utah 

Page 279 

Qjrom I Lear and cfar 

Addressed to Elder Albert R. Bowen, 
writer of social science lessons. 

May we extend our congratulations on 
the course of study on the Constitution 
of the United States you have outlined 
for the Relief Society of the Church of 
Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, which 
is currently in progress. We beHeve your 
program to be outstanding, both in its 
historical background, upon which to base 
present-day interpretations, and for the 
service it will render to the members, and 
through them their families and com- 
munities, by affording a better under- 
standing and evaluation of that docu- 
ment which is the practical safeguard of 
our future. 

— Donald P. Bean 

Director, Stanford University Press 
Stanford, California 

I truly enjoy The Reliei Society Mag- 
azine each month and I look forward to 
each new copy. 

May I improve with each new copy 

Of the Magazine I read; 
May I feast upon every word 
For all its worth and need. 
— Thelma Buell 
Marienthal, Kansas 

I wish to commend Alice Morrey Bailey 
for the very good writing in her serial 
'The Deeper Melody" (October 1953- 
May 1954), 3"^ ^^^^ Dorothy Clapp Rob- 
inson for the beautifully worked out story 
"One Wild Rose," the prize-winning 
story in the Relief Society Short Story 
Contest (published in January 1954). 
The prize-winning poems were also worth- 
while and lovely. Thank you for a whole- 
some, high-quality Magazine. 

— Katherine F. Larsen 

Salt Lake City, Utah 

I enjoyed the winging buoyancy of the 
first prize poem "Wings Over the West" 
in the January 1954 issue of the Magazine, 
by Lizabeth Wall Madsen. 
— Ida Isaacson 

Salt Lake City, Utah 

Being among the first Relief Society 
members to subscribe for the Magazine, 
I enjoy everything in it. It has always 
been an inspiration to me. I remember 
the Woman's Exponent. We had it in 
our home. Today it thrills me to read 
of the many women in foreign countries 
and in the isles of the sea — how they 
wait and long for The Relief Society 
Magazine to reach them. 

Here are a few lines I wrote in honor 
of the visiting teachers: 

At the very second meeting 

The president-elect did call 

Sixteen women as a Necessity Committee 

To visit the sick, the poor, and all. 

Blessed were the visiting teachers 

Of that time so long ago .... 

Blessed be the visiting teachers of today — 

Their calling may not be necessity, 

But their duty is supreme. 

— Anna S. D. Johnson 

Salt Lake City, Utah 

I always enjoy our wonderful Magazine, 
The fiction is always so in keeping with 
the other contents of the Magazine . . . 
I think Sister Mary Ek Knowles (Feb- 
ruary 1954, page 87) expressed such a 
beautiful thought in her little sketch — 
''Writing is my hobby, my husband and 
children my profession." I would like to 
write and ask her just how — just when — 
she finds time for writing, before her chil- 
dren get up in the morning or before they 
are tucked in at night? I have two boys, 
ages six and two . . . but it seems they 
keep me on the go every waking moment. 

— Florence D. Anderson 
Henderson, Nevada 

I do enjoy the Magazine so much and 
am glad that you give so much space to 
helpful articles and to poetry. I am a 
member of Pierian Club of the Chaparrel 
Poets of California, and other members of 
the group also enjoy the Magazine. 
— Mrs. Maude Rubin 
Santa Ana, California 

Page 280 


Now Offers 

Complete Service for Temple 
and Burial Clothes 




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We invite you to visit the Relief Society Temple 
Burial Clothing Department ivhen in Salt Lake 

Telephone 4-2511, Extension 244 
Hours: Monday through Friday 8:30 a.nn.-6:00 p.m. 
Saturday 9:00 a.m.-1:00 p.m. 






1. POST BINDER . . . this win give protec- 
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cover The Salt Lake Temple is embossed in gold ; 
also, the title "Our Family Through the Years." 



inch binder offers permanence to your most valuable 
possessions — the records that give a complete his- 
tory on your family and loved ones. $5.00 


In this 1953 Handy Book are research aids, genealo- 
gist's exchange, genealogical geography, a directory 
of genealogists, and a thousand and one questions 
the genealogist needs to know. $1.35 


4. Family Group Records Sheets 

5. Pedigree Charts 

6. Ruled Family History Sheets 

7. Personal Record Sheets 

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THE 1953 




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to my account $ for the following circled 


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Heat until steaming hot. Put corn mixture around steaks. 


Monthly Publication of the Relief Society of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints 

Belle S. Spafford ------ President 

Marianne C. Sharp - . . . _ first Counselor 

Velma N. Simonsen - . - . . Second Counselor 

Margaret C. Pickering ----- Secretary-Treasurer 

^^'"y g. ludd Even W. Peterson Christine H. Robinson Charlotte A. Larsen 

v^^.u o' M?^^ Leone O. Jacobs Alberta H. Christensen Edith P. Backman 

hdith S. Elliott Mary J. Wilson Mildred B. Eyring Winniefred S. 

norence J. Madsen Louise W. Madsen Helen W. Anderson Manwaring 

Leone G^ayton Aleine M. Young Gladys S. Boyer Elna P. Haymond 

Blanche B. Stoddard Josie B. Bay 


Editor -- - - - - . . - . _ Marianne C. Sharp 

Associate Editor -----___. Vesta P. Crawford 

General Manager --------- Belle S. Spafford 

Vol. 41 MAY 1954 NO. 5 


Mother's Influence Edith Price Backman 284 

A Mother's Prayer for Her Son Wilma B. Bunker 286 

The Birth of a Heritage — The Gospel in England Elsie Scott 287 

Coronation Roxana Farnsworth Hase 290 

Miracles and Mother Eileen Gibbons 298 

"Say It With Flowers" Norma W. South 304 

Anniversary Souvenirs Mabel Law Atkinson 311 

With No Regrets Myrtle M. Dean 323 

Thou Shalt Never Cease to Grow Caroline Eyring Miner 326 

"Magazine" Money Banks _.. 327 


Lest She Forget „ Hazel K. Todd 291 

Things Will Be Different Virginia M. Kammeyer 306 

The Right Decision! Frances C. Yost 312 

The Deeper Melody — Chapter 8 — Conclusion Alice Morrey Bailey 318 


Sixty Years Ago 300 

Woman's Sphere Ramona W. Cannon 301 

Editorial: Portrait of Mother Vesta P. Crawford 302 

New Serial, "The Falling Shackles," to Begin in June 303 

"Magazine" Subscriptions for 1953 Marianne C. Sharp 328 

The "Magazine" Honor Roll for 1953 332 

Notes From the Field: Relief Society Activities Margaret C. Pickering 336 

From Near and Far 344 


Preserving Metal Planters Elizabeth Williamson 305 

Launder That White Shirt Yourself Ruth K. Kent 310 

Sina Mortensen — Woman of Many Hobbies 317 


Maytime in the Valley — Frontispiece Beatrice K. Ekman 283 

Faith Mary Ellen B. Workman 296 

Deserted Garden Matia McClelland Burk 297 

To David Marjorie Foote 303 

Morning Glories Evelyn Fjeldsted 309 

Mother Love Hannah C. Ashby 315 

"So Shall We Reap" Maryhale Woolsey 316 

Come Gently, Sp^-ing Christie Lund Coles 317 

Fallen Giant Josephine J. Harvey 325 

Motherhood Ivinetta R. Oliver 325 

Vacation Just Beyond Mary Gustafson 326 

For Wood Violets .'. Ethel Jacobson 341 

Bright Hour Grace Sayre 342 

The Olden Days and the New Camilla Alexander 343 


Editorial and Business Offices: 40 North Main, Salt Lake City 1, Utah, Phone 4-2511; Sub- 
scriptions 246; Editorial Dept. 245. Subscription Price: $1.50 a year; foreign, $2.00 a year; 
payable in advance. Single copy, 15c. The Magazine is not sent after subscription expires. No 
back numbers can be supplied. Renew promptly so that no copies will be missed. Report change 
of address at once, giving old and new address. 

Entered as second-class matter February 18, 1914, at the Post Office, Salt Lake City, Utah, under 
the Act of March 3, 1879. Acceptance for mailing at special rate of postage provided for in 
section 1103, Act of October 8, 1917, authorized June 29, 1918. Manuscripts will not be returned 
unless return postage is enclosed. Rejected manuscripts will be retained for six months only. 
The Magazine is not responsible for unsolicited manuscripts. 


1 1 iayitime in the valley 

Beatrice K. Elcman 

The sun has climbed the morning stair 

And myriad insects strum the air; 

Out of the meadow lark's smooth throat 

Melodic strains of rapture float 

Across the valley's pulsing breast. 

From mountains east to mountains west, 

The emerald robe of spring is laid, 

Dappled with sunlight and cloud shade. 

The sego-lily chalice spills 

Gold pollen on the kneeling hills; 

From rock-walled canyons, clear streams flow 

To the lush pasture lands below, 

Where spiders weave a silver loom 

On wild rose hedges, pink with bloom; 

And blossomed plum adds nuances of grace 

With airy petals of white lace. 

The Cover: Channel Drive, Santa Barbara, California 

Photograph by Josef Muench 
Frontispiece: White Carnations, Photograph by Ward Linton 
Cover Design by Evan Jensen 

Mother's Influence 

Edith Price Bdckurdn 
Member, General Board of Relief Society 

Her children rise np, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her 
(Proverbs 31 izS). 

WE are commanclccl to: 
Honour thy father and thy moth- 
er, as the' Lord thy God hath 
commanded thee; that thy days may be 
prolonged, and that it may go well with 
thee, in the land which the Lord thy God 
giveth thee (Deut. 5:16). 

It is gratifying that our nation 
has sought to encourage and culti- 
vate e\'ery sentiment which binds 
men and women to the home and 
which exalts motherhood. 

There cannot be homes without 
mothers, for they are the homemak- 
ers; and without homes the nation 
cannot long endure. 

A man's success and triumphs 
mean more to his mother than to 
himself. She never loses faith in 
him; she never forgets him; she nev- 
er forsakes him. Her implicit faith 
in him is one of the beautiful things 
in life and a great influence in the 
world. Joseph Smith said, ''The 
love of a true mother comes nearer 
being like the love of God than 
any other kind of love." 

Mothers had a great influence in 
establishing The Church of Jesus 
Christ in this dispensation. They 
experienced the hardships, persecu- 
tions, and privations incident to 
pioneer life. Because of their true 
testimony of the divinity of Jesus 
Christ, they were able to brave the 
many hardships which they en- 
countered. From the lives of these 
great women may we learn to sac- 
rifice more, to give more of our 

Page 284 

real sehcs to the work of God, to 
instill in our children an abiding 
testimonv, and a desire to serve him 
and keep his commandments. 

Many widows' sons have achieved 
noblv in the earth, and have at- 
tributed their success to the teach- 
ings and influence of their mothers. 
President Ileber J. Grant gave us 
this burning testimony of what his 
mother meant to him: 

I live today as one whose mother was 
all to me. She set an example of integrity, 
of devotion and love,, and of determina- 
tion and honor second to none. Her life 
was a sermon that rings through my soul 
to this day. One of the main reasons I 
am President of the Church today is that 
I have followed the advice and counsel 
and the burning testimony of the Lord 
Jesus Christ, which came to me from my 

During the troubled war days of 
George Washington, Mary Ball 
Washington, mother of the First 
President of the United States, in 
order to keep her faith strong would 
often sav, ''I'he mothers and wives 
of bra\'e men must be brave wom- 
en." She also said, ''George is apt 
to succeed in anything he under- 
takes. He was always a good boy." 
This is an example of the implicit 
faith and confidence a mother has 
in her children. 

Nancy Hanks, mother of Lincoln, 
was a woman of simplicity and 
strength, living in the poorest kind 
of shack in the wilderness of Ken- 
tucky. Even though she may have 



felt the pinch of poverty, she did 
her duty toward this boy tenderly. 
As she spoke some of her last words 
to her nine-year-old son, this was 
her plea, her hope, "Be somebody, 
Abe." His kind,ness, humor, hu- 
mility, and his hatred of slavery 
came from his mother. His love and 
affection for her were expressed in 
the statement he made saying, "All 
that I am or all that I ever hope to 
be I owe to my angel mother." 

TN our own Book of Mormon, 
when the Nephites and the 
Lamanites were warring among 
themsehes, they were given certain 
promises if they would keep the 
commandments of God, and told 
if they did not, destruction would 
follow. Then we have the marvel- 
ous record of two thousand Laman- 
ite bovs— just boys— who joined the 
army of the Nephites in order to 
help preserve themselves and their 
families. But they had been taught 
by their mothers that God would 
protect them if they would do their 

These two thousand boys, part of 
the army of the Nephites, went in- 
to battle repeatedly, and the last 
struggle was so terrible that, we are 
told, all were wounded. When 
Helaman, their captain, saw their 
enemies dri\'en away he was anxious 
for his young charges (he called 
them striplings, just boys) and he 
went among the dead and gathered 
them to find out how many were 
living. He found e\'eryone of them 
alive, although many had fainted 
from the loss of blood. 

When Helaman, who was amazed 
at their miraculous preservation, 
questioned them concerning it, 

their response was one of the great- 
est compliments to motherhood to 
be found anywhere: ". . . We do 
not doubt our mothers knew it" 
(Alma 56:48). 

They believed what their mothers 
taught them. They had faith in 
God. They were preserved, and 
they helped save their homes and 
families from destruction. 

Some mothers have fallen below 
these standards, and some have ex- 
erted but little influence in the 
world. There are many women, 
who because of riches or other in- 
fluences, have become idle, selfish, 
and miserable. They are not the 
mothers who inspire their children 
to become the leaders of men; but 
the overwhelming majority of moth- 
ers are brave, pure, sincere, and self- 

The observance of Mother's Day 
has created an opportunity to ex- 
press the love and gratitude we feel 
to\^ard our mothers. Many beauti- 
ful tributes and honors are heaped 
upon us that day. Have we magni- 
fied our greatest of all callings, 
motherhood? Are we, as mothers 
in Zion, worthy of all these beauti- 
ful tributes? Are we living up to 
our obligations as mothers in The 
Church of Jesus Christ of Latter- 
day Saints to teach our children the 
truths of the gospel, and to be liv- 
ing examples of its principles? 

We read in Proverbs 22:6: 

Train up a child in the way he should 
go: and uhen he is old, he will not de- 
part from it. 

If we teach our children to honor 
the Priesthood, the sanctity of 
eternal marriage, to keep the Sab- 
bath day holy, to observe the law 



of tithing, to hold family prayer, to 
be honest, truthful, and virtuous, to 
have love in their hearts for one an- 
other and for their Heavenly Father, 
we know they will not depart from 
these teachings. Every day will be 
Mother's Day, and our children will 
grow and develop to be useful men 
and women, upholding the highest 
ideals and principles of the gospel. 

A report was given in a recent 
stake conference that only one half 
of the missionaries interviewed in 
that stake to go on missions for the 
Church, reported family prayers 
were being held in their homes. 
Think what a priceless opportunity 
the parents of these young men are 
losing by not having family prayers, 

where the bonds of love, unity, and 
security could be established per- 
manently in the home. 

President David O. McKay said: 

One of the greatest needs in the world 
today is intelligent, conscientious mother- 
hood. It is to the home we must look 
for the inculcation of the fundamental 
virtues which contribute to human wel- 
fare and happiness. Motherhood is the 
greatest potential influence either for good 
or ill in human life. 

May we as mothers be that po- 
tential influence for good in our 
families and realize the highest am- 
bition of true mothers, that of rear- 
ing families of noble, successful, 
righteous children, who will arise 
up and call us blessed. 




J/l ifiothers irra^er for uier Son 

WiJma B. Bunker 

P>UILD me a son, O Lord, wise enough to know the right and brave enough to do it. 
'-^ May he be as strong in defeat as in victory. Rear him, I pray, not in the ways 
of ease and comfort, but under the stress of difficulties and challenges. Give him the 
strength to meet these challenges with courage and resolution. 

May his daily life be clean and triumphant, his goal high and worthy. Teach him 
that mastery of self always precedes mastery of others. 

Build me a son who will have compassion for those who have failed and forgiveness 
for those who have hurt him. Help him to realize that true happiness comes from serv- 
ice to others — to forget oneself in a great and good cause. 

And after all these are his, add, I pray, enough of a sense of humor so that he 
will not take himself too seriously; enough optimism so that those around him are 
lifted up; and enough humility so that he will never cease to be modest, humble, and 

And help him, O Lord, to remember that thou art ever present if he will but seek 
thee, I pray. 

The Birth of a Heritage — The 
Gospel in England 

Elsie Scott 


EMBERS of the Church of 
Jesus Christ of Latter-day 
Saints who visit Preston, 
England, whether they be from oth- 
er towns in Great Britain or from 
America, almost invariably express 
the pleasure and interest they feel 
in being privileged to visit this his- 
toric town and to see the places 
which played such a vital part in 
the propagation of the gospel in 
this land. 

It was about four in the after- 
noon of the 22d of July 1837 ^^^^ 
Heber C. Kimball, Willard Rich- 
ards, Orson Hyde, and Joseph 
Fielding, with three brethren from 
Canada, John Goodson, Isaac Rus- 
sell, and John Snyder, arrived in 
Preston. They had landed in 
Liverpool, but lingered there only 
long enough to seek guidance from 
the Lord, and in answer to their 
prayers were directed to continue 
their journey to Preston, another 
thirty miles — a much longer jour- 
ney then than it is today. 

Elections, commanded by the 
new Queen Victoria, were taking 
place with much celebration as 
these weary men, strangers in a 
strange land, entered the town of 
Preston. They were heartened by 
the message on a banner unfurled, 
almost above their heads, which 
stated in gilt letters 'Truth Will 
Prevail." An omen? A message 
to the messengers? Truth did in- 
deed prevail. 

It was opportune that one of the 

missionaries, Joseph Fielding, had 
a brother in Preston, a minister, 
and while Joseph went to visit with 
his brother, the other brethren 
found lodging in Wilfred Street, 
but visited with the Rev. James 
Fielding on the evening of arrival 
where they discussed the restora- 
tion of the gospel. An invitation 
to attend the Vaux Hall chapel next 
day was speedily accepted, as was 
the later invitation to address the 
congregation. This was a direct 
answer to the prayer of Heber C. 
Kimball that the Lord would open 
the way for them to preach. 

Viewing the sadly forsaken, di- 
lapidated chapel today, with its 
rows of empty seats, it is difficult 
to imagine the large congregation 
that gathered on that Sabbath day 
to hear these strange men who 
spoke of angels again visiting the 
earth, restoring the gospel in all its 
truth to men. 

Of that first public meeting to 
be held in Great Britain on the 
23d of July 1837, Elder Kimball has 
this to say: 

I declared that an angel had visited the 
earth and committed the everlasting Gos- 
pel to man; called their attention to the 
first principles of the Gospel; and gave 
them a brief history of the work which 
the Lord had commenced on the earth; 
after which Elder Hyde bore testimony 
to the same, which was received by many 
with whom I afterwards conversed; they 
cried, "Glory to God," and rejoiced that 
the Lord had sent His servants unto 
them. Thus was the key turned and 
the Gospel dispensation opened on the 

Page 287 



first Sabbath after landing in England 
(Whitney, Orson P.: Life oi Hehei C. 
KimbaU, page 125). 

npHAT the field was white and 
ready to harvest is proved by 
the way the people of Preston ac- 
cepted the message and flocked to 
hear more of the glorious truths. 
The Rev. James Fielding, finding 
his congregation, and with them his 
livehhood, leaving, closed the chap- 
el doors to the missionaries, but the 
Lord's work could not be impeded, 
and many of the people invited the 
elders to preach in their homes. So 
great was their success that several 
people were anxious to be baptized 
at the end of the elders' first week 
in England. 

No person who reads the Bible 
and believes can doubt the existence 

of evil spirits, and it was in the 
room where the elders lodged in 
Wilfred Street, the encounter with 
the hosts of evil occurred, on the 
morning of the day on which the 
baptisms were to be performed, 
Sunday, 30th July, 1837. 

Enraged, no doubt, at the suc- 
cess the elders were having in guid- 
ing the people in the truth, the 
forces of evil made a determined 
effort to destroy the lives and plans 
of the missionaries. Heber C. 
Kimball recounts: 

About daybreak Elder Isaac Russell 
\^'ho slept with Elder Riehards in Wil- 
fred Street, eame up to the third story, 
where Elder Hyde and myself were sleep- 
ing, and ealled out, "Brother Kimball, I 
want you should get up and pray for me 
that I may be delivered from the evil 
spirits that are tormenting me to sueh a 

Courtesy Church Historian's Office 





degree that I feel I cannot live long un- 
less I obtain relief (Whitney, Orson F.: 
Life of Hehei C. KimhnU, page 129). 

The elders arose and laid their 
hands on the tormented man, Elder 
Kimball being mouth, and prayed 
to the Lord, and rebuked the devil, 
but Elder Kimball himself was 
struck by some unseen power and 
fell senseless on the floor. When 
he recovered, they continued to 
pray, and a vision was opened to 
the minds of these great men. They 
saw legions of evil spirits coming 
towards them like armies rushing to 
battle, angry and desperate. Is it 
to be wondered at that Elder 
Kimball stated that he could nexer 
look back on that scene without 
feelings of horror? Yet by it, hor- 
rifving though it was, they learned 
the great power of the opposing 
forces and the Lord did not forsake 

'T^HOSE earlv missionaries had un- 
daunted faith; they had a strong 
testimony of the divinity of the 
work they were called to do; and 

not all the power of hell could turn 
them from their purpose. Indeed, 
it is likely that their vision strength- 
ened their testimonies and their de- 
termination to go forward and 
spread the gospel to all who would 
hear it. 

And so the time set for the bap- 
tisms found the elders on the banks 
of the River Ribble, which runs 
through Preston. They were not 
alone, however. Great interest had 
been aroused in the minds of the 
people. Baptizing as practiced by 
this strange new Church was some- 
thing unheard of, and it is recorded 
that between seven and nine thou- 
sand people gathered to witness the 
baptisms of these first nine converts. 
There is a story told about the first 
woman in England to enter the 
waters of baptism. She was Ann 
Elizabeth Walmsley, who is said to 
ha\'e been in the last stages of 
tuberculosis, and had been warned 
by her doctor that to enter the cold 
waters of the ri\'er would be fatal 
for her. Her faith was strong, how- 
ever, and she was carried to the riv- 
erside and was baptized. 



What stories this picturesque 
river could tell if it were able to 
speak! But surely none would be 
more inspiring than the events of 
that Sabbath. Only on one other 
such occasion has an event at- 
tracted people in their thousands, 
and that was the visit of President 

Heber J. Grant, who unveiled the 
plaque on the 27th of July 1937, 
commemmorating those first bap- 
tisms a century before. Preston 
Branch holds a firm place in the 
British Mission, and proud are the 
Preston saints of their heritage and 
their lovely new chapel. 





Roxaiia F^Tnswoith Hase 

/^UT of doors Spring stretched her graceful, fragrant fingers almost across the peb- 
^^ bled walk leading up to the white house. It was as though she wished that she 
might venture clear inside. Yet, a bit of her glory was there, for the second daughter 
had gathered enough lovely white blossoms to fill the blue vase on the table in the 
room. She had taken them in quietly, and no one had bade her stay. Perhaps they 
thought her too young. 

The room was hushed, as though church might be about to begin. Yet, this was 
not a church, but a small, clean room. The people there were assembled for a par- 
ticular purpose. Each one was busy with his or her own thoughts and tasks. This 
was an eventful day. 

The world at large had never even heard of the woman who was soon to be 
crowned a queen there. She was young and beautiful, with a certain radiance of 
countenance hard to describe. Her coronation was not a sudden, spur of the moment 
thing, as though someone had abdicated. It had been in preparation for almost a 
year. The principals had been well instructed as to what to expect and do. 

The preparations, while adequate, were by no means elaborate. The queen's gown 
was of snowy white cotton. It boasted no fine handmade imported lace or golden 
threads. There was no mile-long train, no ermine robe, no richly accoutered retinue, no 
high-stepping steeds with rich trappings. Missing was the martial music and gay 
aplomb, yet the expectancy of the moment filled all the room. 

The one person who could make the coronation a certainty had not yet arrived. 
It was this momentarily expected presence which gave such a somber air to the pro- 

Off to one side an elderly lady was praying with bowed head. Sh-e was the queen 
mother, and perhaps the most concerned of all, to have everything go off well. The 
queen herself, as she waited almost breathlessly, seemed in a tranquil state, for this was 
her day. 

The silence became more intense. No one so much as whispered. Then in an in- 
stant all was changed. The awaited guest had arrived! 

"It is a boy!" the doctor announced happily, and a lusty wail let everyone know 
that the prince was very much alive. 

The young man gathered the queen into his arms and kissed her as he smoothed 
her shining hair. In her eyes was a radiance that seemed brighter than Stardust to him; 
his eyes were misty because the woman who had just received the most precious crown 
in all the wodd, the Crown of Motherhood, was his wife. 

Lest She Forget 

Hazel K. Todd 

MARTHA had always known 
through those three wonder- 
ful years that some day Lin- 
da's father Kent would come and 
take her away. She would see him, 
in imagination, coming through the 
apple orchard up the currant bush 
path that led to the home where 
she and Chris lived. She would see 
Kent's lean frame and his dark hair 
and the stride of his long legs. He 
would come and take away his child 
even as he had brought her that 
spring morning after her mother 
had been buried in the hillside 
cemetery. And then she and Chris 
would be left lonely and childless 
again, just as they had been before 
the loan of the tiny bit of sunshine 
that had filled the empty places 
with laughter and the long days 
and evenings with useful things to 

Martha tried not to think of that 
time, but it had a cruel way of slip- 
ping onto her unexpectedly in the 
night when the crickets kept her 
awake, or when Linda sat at her 
knee and she brushed the shining 
ripples of her yellow hair. Some- 
times it cut her like a keen-edged 
knife when she saw Chris carrying 
Linda on his shoulders and chant- 
ing to her one of his funny rhymes. 

Just as now, she saw them coming 
through the orchard, Chris holding 
to Linda's bare legs that were round 
his neck. The little girl had a 
sprig of apple blossom stuck jaunt- 
ilv into her hair and she laughed 
merrily while Chris, in his deep, 
good natured voice sang out the 
words : 

Bow wow wow, 

The beggars are coming to town 
Some in rags, some in shags, 
And some in silken gowns .... 

Chris saw Martha then where she 
sat with her pan of strawberries on 
the garden bench. With an upward 
swing of his big arm, he slid his 
burden gently to the ground, and 
the little girl came running to Mar- 
tha. She scrambled onto the bench 
and grasped the woman by the 

"Guess what, Aunt Martha!" she 
babbled with excitement. 

"What?" Martha asked with in- 

"Chris's goin' to build me a play- 

"A playhouse?" Martha ex- 
claimed, kissing the child's hands 
round her neck. 

"A house with a chimney and a 
table and a cupboard, and . . . ." 

"Wonderful!" Martha tried to 
squeeze the ache from her heart. 

"May I go tell Peter?" the child 
asked, still bubbling. 

"Why, I guess so, if you won't 
be late for supper," Martha said, 
and she watched the little girl run 
away on nimble bare legs across the 
orchard path. 

"Like a fairy elf," she whispered, 
and Chris came and sat down by 
her. He lifted the pan of berries 
from her lap and set them on the 
edge of the bench. "Could it be 
we're going to have strawberry pie 
for supper?" he asked, resting his 
hand affectionately on hers. 

Page 291 



lyrARTIIA half smiled at him and 
then suddenly she clutched 
his arm, "Oh, how can we ever give 
her up, Chris?" she held onto him 

Chris patted her hand reassuring- 
ly. He was always so calm about 
it. But she saw him gaze out across 
the apple trees to the green roof of 
the house beyond where Linda's^ 
parents had lived. "Three years is 
a long time, Martha. I have been 
thinking that maybe Kent will nev- 
er come back." « 

But Martha knew that Chris 
knew better. And after he had gone 
she still kept looking at the green 
roof that had become in the three 
years, an emblem to remind her that 
Linda was not really hers. She went 
back again to the days when Kent 
and Ann had lived there together. 
They had been so much in lo\e. 
And she had shared with Ann the 
coming of her baby, a joy that 
would never be her own. But Ann 
had never been well after the birth 
of little Linda. More and more she 
had relied on Martha to help her 
with the babv and her other home 
responsibilities. And then had come 
the time when she could no longer 
take care of them at all. So she had 
died, and they had buried her in 
the hillside cemetery. Kent's grief 
had been an awful thing. 

In the early morning he had 
come to her carrying Linda, scarce- 
ly more than a year old. He had 
laid the tiny, golden-haired girl in 
her arms while his voice choked 
with tears. "Take care of her, Mar- 
tha, for me. I know you and Chris 
will do it better than anyone else in 
the w^orld. When I can stand it 
alone here without Ann I will come 

back. Just for a little while, Mar- 
tha." And then he had gone hur- 
riedly down the path by the cur- 
rant bushes, lea\ing Linda whim- 
pering for her mother. 

Since then time had fled on wings 
of lightning for Martha, busy with 
her new-found joy. The days had 
lengthened into weeks and months. 
Three times the apple trees had 
bloomed. There had been brief 
messages from Kent, from different 
corners of the earth, and gifts for 
Linda, who babbled about a daddv 
that she couldn't remember, while 
Linda's life wound itself tighter and 
tighter around the hearts of two 
lonely people. 

jV/fARTHA was brought back from 
her re\erie by the voices of 
Linda and Peter. They were com- 
ing through the orchard from Pet- 
er's home, where he lived alone 
with his aged grandmother. Linda, 
skipping and Peter with his ragged 
o\eralls, his hundreds of freckles, 
and his stick horse that bucked and 
galloped for Linda's attention. 

"Aunt Martha, where is Chris?" 
Linda soon wanted to know. "ILis 
he got my playhouse builded yet? 
Peter wants to see my playhouse." 

"Already?" Martha laughed. 
"Why, darling, it takes days and 
days to build a playhouse. But I 
am sure Peter can see it when it's 

Peter grinned, showing a vacant 
space in his upper tooth row. 

Chris came then and took turns 
with the two children, bucking and 
galloping like a wild horse around 
the giant tree until he was so worn 
out he had to sit down on the 
ground to rest. 



"Will you build my playhouse 
tomorrow?" Linda wanted to know 
emphatically, as she climbed onto 
his knee. 

"If you will first let me tickle 
your toes and then your nose," 
Chris said to her with a funny wink. 
And she pulled his nose in merri- 

But to Martha there was some- 
thing ominous about the playhouse, 
as though it were a foreboding of 
disaster. Perhaps it was because she 
thought of it as something perma- 
nent, something to last through the 
years, the ones that were so uncer- 
tain. Even when she measured the 
tiny windows and planned the pink 
ruffled curtains, she had to shake off 
a sense of calamity. Too often she 
caught herself staring at the green 
roof beyond the apple trees. At 
night when she had tucked Linda 
into bed she found it almost im- 
possible to tear herself away from 
the child's bed. Once when she sat 
thus, staring at the sleeping child, 
she turned and caught Chris watch- 
ing her from the doorway. She was 
almost embarrassed, and in her be- 
wilderment she went to him and 
slipped her hand into his. 

He squeezed it without saying 

Suddenly she turned to him im- 
pulsively and said, "Oh, Chris, what 
is wrong about the playhouse? I 
feel as though it were taking Linda 
away from me!" 

Then Chris let go her hand and 
held onto her arms with his two 
strong hands. He looked down into 
her face in tender solicitude. "Mar- 
tha, don't let this come over you. 
It is the one thing I have been 
afraid of since that morning when 

Kent left us his little girl. Perhaps 
she will always be ours, but, if she 
isn't, we must remember — we must 
not forget the things that are left!" 
Martha understood. It seemed 
she had always to be reminded. She 
looked at Chris gratefully. Big, un- 
derstanding Chris! He had always 
come to her in her desperate mo- 
ments. "Forgive me, Chris," she 
said. "It is a wonderful playhouse. 
Tomorrow I will finish the cur- 

A ND so the next evening Martha 
sat on the garden bench and 
stitched the pink curtains while 
Linda played with Peter in the 
sand pile. A little while ago she 
had seen him tickling her legs with 
a long stick and Linda had chased 
him around the apple tree with a 
bucket of sand, but now they were 
busy sticking sprigs of apple blos- 
som into the tiny rows of sand they 
had made. Martha was finishing a 
red rosette on the tie-back. She 
laid it in her lap and looked up 
from the intricate work a moment 
to rest her eyes. And then she saw 
Kent as she always knew she would, 
coming up the path through the 
apple orchard, his long stride rapidly 
measuring off the distance between 

She watched him coming as 
though in a dream. Suddenly it 
was a crazy world that reeled and 
swirled, with somewhere a familiar 
face from out of the past that went 
round and round and presently 
came to a standstill immediately be- 
fore her, so close that she could see 
the gray of his hair. It was appal- 
ling! Only three years ago his hair 
had been completely a dark brown, 
and now the temples were entirely 



white, with streaks of gray through- 
out his head. Her hps formed the 
words, but it was a long time before 
she could make the sound come. 
*Tou— you have come for her!" 

''Don't you think it is about 
time?" Kent asked, watching her in- 

"But— but you have been gone so 
long . . . ." 

''Don't you remember, Martha, 
I said I would come back?" 

Then she felt Chris beside her, 
felt the strength come into her 
numbed body, and she could think. 
Chris was putting out his hand to 
the man standing there by the ap- 
ple tree. "Kent, old man, it's good 
to see you." 

Martha stood up, trying to think 
of the things she must do. "Linda!" 
she called, and the little girl came 
skipping her one-leg skip. "Your . . . 
daddy is here." 

jyfARTHA watched while every 
fibre of her body wanted to 
cry out in rebellion, as the little girl 
came hesitantly forward. Her hair 
was tousled from her play, but nev- 
er before had Martha seen the lights 
shine so in it. Her hand slid into 
its yellow glory while she watched 
the man before them. 

He caught his breath quickly, and 
impulsively put out his hand. "Lin- 
da—Linda—my little girl!" She 
came forward then, and he leaned 
and lifted her into his arms. He ran 
his fingers through her curls. "You 
are the picture of your mother," he 

"Aunt Martha says I have honey- 
candy hair," Linda said. 

"Yes, Linda, like hers— wild hon- 
ey hair. Tell me, are you a good 

girl? Do you do what Aunt Mar- 
that and Chris tell you to?" 

"Peter doesn't mind his grand- 
mother sometimes," the little girl 
said. "Sometimes he comes over 
here when she doesn't know it." 

"Now, who could Peter be?" 

The child pointed her finger to 
the sand pile where a little freckle- 
faced boy sat forlornly looking on. 
"That's Peter," she said. 

"Oh," Kent said, gazing at the 
lonely little figure. And then he 
added quickly, "I brought you 
something. Perhaps you can share 
it with Peter." He drew a long pack- 
age from his pocket, hurriedly tore 
off the wrapping and opened the 
lid. Linda clapped her hands with 
pleasure. It was a box of tiny plas- 
tic birds. "Here, put them in your 
flower garden," he said, handing her 
the box. 

She took it excitedly and ran 
calling to Peter with the new-found 

"How will you take care of her?" 
Martha asked, sitting on the bench 
to relieve the wobbling in her 

"POR. a while Kent looked beyond 

the apple trees. Then he said 

simply, "I am going to be married." 

Martha stared at him. 

"She is a lovely girl, Martha. You 
see she was lonely, too. She lost 
her husband in the war. It has been 
wonderful, the peace that has re- 
turned to me since I met Joyce." 
He looked away again. "It is dif- 
ferent from Ann, Martha. But I 
know we will find happiness togeth- 
er. And she will make a wonderful 
mother for Linda." 


The words cut like a knife. Mar- 
tha could feel her face burning. 

She saw the confused look on 
Kent's face. He came quickly and 
sat down beside her. "Forgive me, 
Martha. I don't want to hurt you. 
I know you have been die best 
mother in the world for Linda. But 
don't you understand— I can't give 
up my little girl— the only thing I 
have left of that lovely past. Ann 
would not want me to give our child 

Martha had been struggling des- 
perately. She spoke with forced 
calmness. 'Tes, Kent, I have 
always tried to remember that Lin- 
da was not ours, and that sometime 
you would come back for her." 

There was one last hope. She 
must know. ''Will you— will you 
be living in your place?" 

''No, Martha." He paused. ''Joyce 
and I think it would be best to be- 
gin our life together some new place. 
I have sold the farm to a couple 
with six small children." 

Martha stared miserably ahead. 
She saw Chris leaning against the 
apple tree. She had forgotten him. 
He was standing there quietly pick- 
ing the petals from a sprig of apple 
bloom. The loosened leaves float- 
ed aimlessly to the ground and lay 
in a pink carpet at his feet. She 
wondered vaguely how Chris, who 
had carried Linda on his shoulders, 
who had told her his funny rhymes, 
and taken her piggy back riding, 
how he could stand there calmly 
pulling apple blossoms apart. 

"I don't intend to take Linda 
away where you can never see her 
again," Kent was saying. "I know 
that I can never repay you at all for 
what you have done. She could 


come back each year for a visit." 
His eyes dropped to the blossom 
petals at Chris' feet. "Perhaps in 
the spring when the apples are in 

Martha looked at him half grate- 
fully, but her throat ached, and she 
could feel tears stinging her eyes. 
"When are you going?" 

"In the morning," he said, while 
Martha fought desperately to keep 
the tears back. "I want to spend 
one last night . . . ." His voice trailed 
off with his gaze through the trees. 

CO it was morning. Linda's hair 
had been brushed to shining rip- 
ples. Ller gay little dress, starched 
and ironed to dainty crispness, 
rustled as she danced about excited- 
ly around the big box that con- 
tained all her things. 

Then Peter was standing there 
shyly, pushing his queer package in- 
to Linda's hand. "It's my bird eggs, 
Linda," he said. "You can have 
them." And then before she had 
time to open the pitiful little pack- 
age, or even tell him goodbye, he 
was gone. 

One moment Martha had the 
child in her arms, with the bright 
head against her breast and her 
own lips pressed to the shining 
curls, and the next moment she was 

Martha didn't know how long 
she stood there staring at the empty 
trail down the currant bushes. But, 
suddenly, she was aware of the ring 
of Chris' hammer. She turned and 
stared at him. How could he be 
driving nails into Linda's playhouse! 
But he was! He was nailing the 
wooden chimney into its place, a 
square chimney marked off like 



bricks, pointing mockingly into the 

He must have read the horror in 
her face, for he laid the hammer 
calmly on the roof and stepped 
down from his wooden box. He 
came to her and took her two hands 
between his own. 

"Why are you building the play- 
house, Chris? What for?" 

Chris pressed her hands until 
they hurt, hurt until she could have 
cried out. She could feel his eyes 
burning into her. ''Because, Mar- 
tha, darling, we can't gi\e up. We 
must go on." 

''But, Chris, what is the use with- 
out Linda!" She was almost hys- 

"Martha, over across the orchard 
there will be children. You remem- 
ber, Kent said— six small children. 
Their mother will need help. They 
can play in the playhouse. And— 
have you forgotten all the springs 
when the apples are in bloom, Linda 
will come. Her playhouse will be 
waiting for her. Don't you see? It 
must be finished, with the chimney 
and the table and the pink cur- 

tains . . . ." 

Martha felt the tension in Chris' 
body, felt him trying to help her. 
She reached out her hand uncon- 
sciously and it rested on a head. 
She looked slowly down into a pair 
of eves red with crying. It was 
Peter, his tousled red hair filled with 
dry leaves and sticks from the bush- 
es where he had wept in loneliness 
for his only playmate. Poor little 
Peter, living with a grandmother 
who \\'as too blind to know that his 
overalls needed patching. 

"Peter," Martha said, "I must go 
to see your grandmother. Perhaps 
I can help her. And — and you 
must come over every day and help 
me." She looked up at Chris, and 
he gave her a wink. 

"Better still," he said, beckoning 
to Peter, "I need a man to help me 
build this house. Peter, would you 
like to hold this wobbly chimney 

Martha looked out across the ap- 
ple trees to the green roof. It will 
still be there, she thought, to re- 
mind me of all the things that are 


Mary EJIen B. WorJcman 

Time to grieve? 

Oh, heart, put grief away! 

Seek out the beauties of today — 

The unsung song, the flag unfurled, 

The babe new-born unto the world, 

The child's smile, eyes that shine 

Lighted by his love sublime. 

Life's joys are here, and here shall stay 
To make you glad upon the \\ay. 
Your love is pure, Christ's gifts complete; 
In God's own time you, too, shall sleep — 
And live again, no more to weep! 

Come, dear heart, time is not long! 
Put off your grief, make life your song. 

Grace T. Kirton 


[Deserted (garden 

Matia McCldhnd Buik 

I cannot bear to visit any more 
The desert homestead where I was a child, 
And see that dry and thorny weed-grown ruin, 
My Mother's lovely garden, now grown wild. 

Her neat, trimmed roses are an unkempt hedge; 
Gone is her dahlia rainbow in the fall; 
No trumpet vine calls hummingbirds in spring. 
No scarlet tulips blossom by the wall. 

Just one gnarled lilac, blooming by the gate; 
One tangled bed of orange poppies gleams; 
No, rather would I seek more perfect flowers 
In that dear garden of my childhood dreams. 

Page 297 

Miracles and Mother 

Eileen Gibbons 

4 4]% yTOTHER, ifs for you!" 
Wf Three daughters, who 
used to dash for the 
telephone every time it rang and 
answer with an anticipant ''Hi!" 
now calmly raise it from the hook, 
mutter a calm "Hello," and sigh, 
''Mother, it's for you." 

Listen closely, and you can hear 
them add to themselves, "It's 
always for you!" 

You see, I'm one of the three 
daughters, and my mother is the 
president of a ward Relief Society. 
She's relatively new in the job of 
being ward mother, but during the 
months she has been, we girls, our 
four brothers, and our father have 
witnessed a miracle. 

Miracles aren't exactly unusual 
in big families. Ours has managed 
to remain happy through periods of 
economic depression, broken teen- 
age hearts, the cruel adolescent teas- 
ings of too many freckled-faced 
brothers, and the mischief of a sev- 
en-year-old named Ted. 

But Mother is the real miracle. 
For as long as we can remember, 
she has been doing extra, unusual 
things, to save time, effort, and 
money. Five a.m. rising to pick 
raspberries on shares, midnight wall- 
papering parties, and the care of 
ten pens of rabbits are among her 
''saving" ideas. 

Add to these washing, ironing, 
cleaning, and cooking for nine, and 
you have someone much too busy 
to sit and visit, read a good book, 
or call on a neighbor for a friendly 
chat. Yet, these are the things 

Page 298 

every busy housewife hopes some 
day to find time to do. 

That's why when Mother told 
us the bishop wanted her to be 
president of the Relief Society we 
all gasped "When?" 

Mother already moved from one 
job to another like lightning and 
was the first awake and the last to 
bed. We'd chastized her plenty of 
times about moving too fast, and 
now the Church wanted to give her 
one of its biggest jobs. For several 
days we talked about it. 

"She's just the person, but . . ." 
—"Wouldn't she be wonderful! 
but . . .?" and then there was just 
the plain "But, Mother!" 

Of course Mother said yes. She 
had already said yes when we were 
going around the house wondering 
"When?" to ourselves and saying 
"But . . ." to her. 

At the time. Mother was in the 
Primary presidency and theology 
teacher in the Relief Society. She 
was baking twelve loaves of bread 
every week, keeping a surplus of 
canned food in the basement, and 
frozen food in the locker. 

Mother also spent an hour every 
day helping the child up the street 
improve his reading so he could be 
promoted. She was giving several 
minutes a day to Larry because he 
needed tangible encouragement be- 
side him while he practiced the 

Torn denim knees had a way of 
appearing, and old rags had to be 
made into rugs. It was too expensi\e 
for the girls to buy all their clothes. 



and as long as shirts and trousers 
could be made from Dad's old 
suits and our too-small coitons, the 
little boys would wear them home- 

A new latch on the door, new 
paint in the bedroom, the buckle 
torn from a shoe— a myriad of little 
jobs were already appearing daily 
and Mother was squeezing them in. 

And now the bishop wanted her 
to ... . 

*I\7E girls told her how happy we 
were, and at the same time 
gestured melodramatic stories about 
how we would probably have to 
quit school and our jobs so Mother 
could work in the Relief Society. 

That was several months ago. 
And Mother is still busy because 
she still has seven children and the 
jobs that go along with a big fam- 
ily. Of course, we all have to help 
a little more, but the miracle is still 

Mother has been able to do the 
job, keep up her home, and bring 
a new spirituality, enthusiasm, and 
happiness into her relations with 
her family. This is the miracle. 
Mother has more time and energy 
than she has ever had before. 

''Mother, it's for you,'' calls her 
to the phone at least a dozen times 
every day. Someone feels she 
ought to let Mother know that Sis- 
ter Wallace is ill. Her first coun- 
selor phones to say, ''Sure, we can 
go visiting the shut-ins this after- 

Perhaps it's a death in the ward. 
That usually means food to pre- 

pare, comfort to give, an assortment 
of needs to fill. There arc flowers 
to arrange and children to tend. 

Meetings need to be planned, 
work days scheduled, offices filled— 
the usual duties of a president— all 
are there. And Mother does them. 
She thinks, eats, and sleeps Relief 
Society. It is her life, her chance 
to serve. 

She has found time to do it well, 
along with her washing, sewing, 
cooking, and cleaning, and the mul- 
titude of household jobs that come 

And if you tiptoe into her room 
almost any evening, you'll find her 
sitting up in bed reading a good 
book, the newspaper, or a magazine 
—to her a luxury. 

And it isn't late. Only the little 
boys are in bed. But you see. Moth- 
er is tired at night as always. She 
still has too much to do, and we 
still tell her she does it too swiftly. 

But she is a new woman. There 
is contentment instead of exhaus- 
tion after a day of hard work. There 
is joy at every chance to help or ex- 
pression of gratitude from the 
helped. There is love between her 
and a hundred women she never 
knew before. Most of all, there is 
a realization and a firm testimony 
in her heart that wards are living, 
complex units that need a mother. 

And the children? We enjoy our 
miracle Mother. And it hasn't hurt 
us girls at all to cook a little more 
often, sew on a few buttons our- 
selves, or even to think now and 
then that "he" surely would have 
called, if Mother hadn't been presi- 
dent of the Relief Society. 

(bixtii LJears J^go 

Excerpts From the Woninii's Exponent, May i, and May 15, 1894 

*'FoR THE Rights of the \\'omen of Zion and the Rights of the 
Women of All Nations" 

goods and trimmings, fancy articles and notions, books and stationery, equipose waists. 
Dressmaking in all its branches, millinery, latest styles, hats and bonnets cleaned and 
retrimmed. Feathers curled. Stamping done to order. 

— Selected 

WOMAN'S SPHERE: The Father chose her by and through whom all his 
spiritual children should come to earth, and so ordered that she should be first to know 
the advent of the spirit to its home . . . and not until she has endowed it with the 
virtues of her soul does she present it a priceless offering to the Lord. Thus woman is 
recognized by the eternal decree of the Father to be the first to cherish humanity .... 
In view of the fact that there can be no man . . . without woman, we may cease to 
talk about woman's sphere as though it had a limit, other than the world in which she 
moves. — S. W. Richards 


We're now laying foundations of what we shall be. 

For life's current extends to eternity's sea; 

And whatever debases, ennobles, refines, 

By our acts we imprint in indelible lines. 

We're the offspring of God. We should never degrad( 

The form which at first in His image was made .... 

— Eliza R. Snow 

TROUBLE: Never bear more than one trouble at a time. Some people bear 
three kinds — all they ever had, all they have now, and all they expect to have. 

— Edward Everett Hale 

HERITAGE: .... While we journey onward and upward, let us clasp hands 
as sisters in sweet assurance of helping each other to cross the desert of ignorance and 
the dark river of tradition, where the little boats of error and superstition glide in and 
out alluring the unwary. W^ will watch for the beacon light of truth that shines from 
afar over the Elysian fields of knowledge and understanding. And while we pursue 
our pioneer march, let us not forget the innumerable company that follow in our wake, 
and leave for them shining waymarks, hopeful harbingers of success in attaining the 
goal of our ambitions. — Selected 

conference of the Relief Society of Box Elder Stake convened in the Tabernacle at 
Brigham City, on the 13th of March. President Olivia Widerborg presiding. Sister 
Bowring: I heard Brother Kimball once say we should be as clay in the potter's hand, 
if we depend on the Lord we shall be so. We can do a great deal of good to each 
other .... Emelia D. Madsen: It is a sacred calling to be a president or an officer in 
the Relief Society. The teachers in visiting should try to find the needy. They need 
to possess the spirit of the Lord, the spirit of discernment, and great big hearts that 
they may find even those who shrink from recei\ing help in their need .... Counselor 
Mary Wright: Let us not find fault with each other, it is weakening to ourselyes, let 
us do all the good we can .... 

— Emelia D. Madsen, Cor. Sec. 

Page 300 

Woman's Sphere 

Ramona W. Cannon 


wife of President David O. 
McKay of The Chureh of Jesus 
Christ of Latter-day Saints, has been 
named Utah's "Mother of the Yeai" 
for 1Q54. She will go to New York 
City this month to join other state 
winners in the events taking place 
when the ''American Mother of the 
Year" will be chosen. Mrs. McKay, 
mother, homemaker, musician, has 
long been active in community and 
Church activities and has accom- 
panied President McKay upon his 
world travels. 



(Mrs. Clinton R. Burt), noted 
and dynamic Salt Lake author, has 
three new volumes on the market. 
Young Jed Smith— Westering Boy 
is an interesting, action-filled story 
of this famous personality of the 
early West; Camel Express is the 
tale of a strange and little known 
episode in Western history; and 
Peter's Sugar Farm, has West Jord- 
an, Utah, as its locale. 

lyiRS. BENJAMIN F. (Ardella 
^ * Bitner) TIBBY, a native Salt 
Laker, but for the last twenty-one 
years superintendent of the Comp- 
ton City Schools, Compton, Cali- 
fornia, delivered one of the prin- 

cipal addresses at the convention of 
the American Association of School 
Administrators, held in Atlantic 
City, New Jersey, in February. Past 
normal retiring age, Mrs. Tibby is 
considered too valuable to the 
school system to be permitted to 
leave. She ranks as one of the fore- 
most women educators in America. 

three, has just presented one of 
her latest primitive paintings, 'The 
Battle of Bennington," to the 
Daughters of the American Revolu- 

"DIRTHDAY congratulations are 
extended to Mrs. Lizzie Col- 
born, Salt Lake City, one hundred 
one; Mrs. Susanna Matilda Cowels 
Huish, Spring Lake, Utah, ninety- 
nine; Mrs. Catherine Matilda Beck, 
San Leandro, California, ninety- 
eight; Mrs. Euphemia Jane Carter 
Freeman, Salt Lake City, ninety- 
seven; Mrs. Margaret Blair Crab- 
tree, Idaho Falls, Idaho, ninety- 
three; Mrs. Martha Musser Sheets 
Davis, Salt Lake City, ninety-three; 
Mrs. Sarah Elizabeth Goodwin Bin- 
nal. Granger, Utah, ninety; Mrs. 
Rosella Marie P. T. Jacobsen, Mt. 
Pleasant, Utah, ninety. 

Page 301 


VOL. 41 

MAY 1954 

NO. 5 

[Portrait of I J lot her 

TN a certain old-fashioned house, 
there was an embroidered sam- 
pler on the living room wall, which 
proclaimed a message that the chil- 
dren in that home could never for- 
get. At first, when they were small, 
the message seemed to refer to their 
grandmother, but later, upon re- 
turning to the beloved family home, 
they knew that the message re- 
ferred to their own dear mother. 

We are coming, Mother, coming — 
From the loom and from the mine — 
Though it be our last sweet homing 
On that mother breast of thine. 

In times of separation from our 
mothers, whether it be the absence 
caused by the temporary affairs of 
earth, or that longer waiting until 
the time of reunion in the heavenly 
home, we often try to picture in 
memory the portrait of our mothers. 
Sometimes an evanescent happen- 
ing or even some familiar scene — 
a flower garden, a thread of music, 
a lighted window — may bring to 
us, unexpectedly, a vivid and 
strangely comforting portrait of 

The dear face may be remem- 
bered well, and the busy, untiring 
hands, the quick step in the kitch- 
en, the quiet step to a child's crib. 
One woman may remember that 
once, upon admitting some misde- 
meanor of childhood, the mother 
only looked at her with tears in her 
eyes, and had to wait to find some- 
thing to say. Another woman may 

Page 302 

recall how swiftly her mother's fing- 
ers flew in sewing white lace upon 
an infant's dress. The portraits are 
varied and beautiful. 

Though we may not realize the 
full influence of these memories— 
these portraits, we know that in 
large measure they determine our 
attitudes, our actions, the very 
course of our lives. One woman 
has been influenced throughout her 
life by seeing repeatedly, in mem- 
ory, her mother, who had come to 
visit the daughter at college, stand- 
ing, after class had been dismissed, 
with her hand laid tenderly upon 
a bench in the room, tears in the 
mother's eyes. Then she said, 
''Such a thing as this learning was 
never possible for me, but I am so 
grateful that you can be here." 

Another woman, sincerely devot- 
ed to the work of the Church, re- 
calls, as an indelible etching, the 
portrait of her mother — how she 
hurried down the poplar-lined street, 
taking her little daughter with her; 
how quickly the mother mounted 
the wooden steps to the Relief So- 
ciety Hall, how soon she was taking 
charge of the meeting — then the 
music, the prayer, the quietness, 
and the light upon the mother's 
face. Strange how much is in- 
scribed upon the pliant mind of a 
child through no direct word being 
said. It is by spiritual communion 
that much of earth's best instruc- 
tion is given and received. 



Many of us may be fortunate 
enough to recall the portrait of a 
mother who honored and respected 
the individualism of each of her 
children, who realized that each 
child is different from every other 
personality, the heritage given by 
the parents coming from ancestral 
sources remote and near, but always 
in a new combination of character- 
istics, talents, and temperament, 
with an individual, everlasting spir- 
it. The mother has been the life- 

giving vessel, but her duty and her 
influence are best exercised through 
love, patient direction, and inspira- 
tional example. And mothers who 
are wise, as well as devoted, may, 
over the years and into old age, 
share in the shining hopes, ideals, 
and accomplishments of their chil- 
dren, and these mothers may be 
comforted by knowing that the por- 
traits of all mothers are forever in- 

-V. P. C. 

I Lew Serial, cJhe cf ailing Shackles, to ujegin in ^une 

\ NEW serial, 'The Falling Shackles," by Margery S. Stewart, will begin 
in the June Relief Society Magazine. This intimate and dramatic 
story recounts the sad and amusing experiences of a family from Europe 
who make a new life for themselves in Salt Lake City. The author is well 
known to readers of the Magazine, having contributed many excellent 
stories and poems. Mrs. Stewart's work has also received recognition 
by national magazines of wide circulation, and she has received awards in 
se\eral contests, including the Relief Society Short Story Contest and the 
Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest. 

c/o UJavid 

Marjoiie Foote 

Tough and tousled three-year-old, 
Hurtling like a comet jet 
Along the path, across the street — 
A mercury with wing-shod feet. 
Bright ribboned years do now unfold. 
Shot with silver, red, and gold; 
High adventures to be met; 
Forward now your course is set; 
Life's dawn for you is sweet. 

We set small store by worldly gain 
But here's a jewel-studded crown: 
The sapphire of a blue tit's wing, 
The liquid gold the blackbirds sing; 
Pearl-studded trees in rain, 

Emeralds from the leafy lane; 
The honeybee's topaz and brown. 
Gay rose's gorgeous ruby gown. 
Each sparkling gem of spring. 

This box is clasped with constant prayer 
And bounded with our love for you. 
Its key of truth will only turn 
If, with clear vision, you discern 
The Priesthood cloak that God sets there 
For every worthy son to wear. 
Oh, take these treasures and renew 
Your covenants each day; be true. 
Oh, let his lamp forever burn. 

oa|/ Ut Vi/ith d^lovoers 

Norma W. South 

npHE words so often used by the growing house plants; that is why 

florist industry bring an intrigu- I cannot grow them as well as she. 
ing thought to me. What has been Perhaps Mother was never con- 
said to me by way of flowers? What scions of saying things with her 
have I tried to say to others? flowers; we were not conscious of 

When I was a little girl, no taller receiving the messages. But they 

than a window sill, my world told us many things just the same, 

seemed to be made up mostly of They told us that here was love and 

flowers. Dozens of flowering house patience, not only for the plants, 

plants lined our windows. My view but for the children who lived with 

of the outside world was always them. They told us that home was 

framed by flowers and, as I grew beautiful and warm and safe. As 

taller, by lovely foliage and flowers, the plants cost mother not a cent, 

October, there was often wind ^^^ey told us that there are many 
and sleet and snow, but inside it beautiful and wonderful thnigs in 
was always summer. Mother's ge- t^^e world which have nothhig at 
raniums were deep red, bright red, all to do with money. The blossoms 
old rose, pink, white, and salmon cheered us through childhood ill- 
color. The Martha Washington "ess and gave us courage when fa- 
geranium, with its gray-green leaves, ther was away at the hospital for 
had single flowers of old rose, with three whole months. They taught 
deep rose throats. The fuchsia was "s that God can do some very re- 
the wonder plant, with its delicate niarkable things, 
stems and lavender-red blossoms I can close my eyes and see the 
which hung down like bells on a flowers and people marching through 
Christmas tree. The Marguerite ^Y girlhood. It is the junior prom, 
had fern-like foliage and large white There are new formals, flowers, 
daisy blossoms. Then there was the ecstasy! Now I am returning from 
California pink which had a bios- a college spring formal. The young 
som of fine pink fringe and no man in the tuxedo takes the rose 
leaves at all; it had queer needles from his lapel and presses it into 
like those of an evergreen! my hand. The little flower tells 

Every night through the long the sweet message for which he 

winter months, mother patiently cannot find adequate words. My 

carried her plants from the windows wedding . . . there are flowers e\'ery- 

to the kitchen table where thev where. Mother is saying, ''Norma, 

would be safe from frost. Every the pink double hollyhocks ha\c 

morning she gave each plant a drink, bloomed early this year, just for 

One year she took new slips and you." She is so happy including 

repotted all the plants, using rich licr flowers in the plans. 

loamy soil from under the wild "We'll decorate the table with 

English willows. I have never glads, the white and pink coronas." 

learned any more of her secrets of I see again my wedding bouquet. 

Page 304 



The years are rushing on. There 
are flo\\ers for birthdays, weddings, 
a funeral . . . my father's. Now I 
am lying in a hospital, not ill at all, 
but rejoicing over the safe arrival of 
our third child, a dear little boy. 
The door opens and a sweet little 
girl of nine enters, carrying a small 
bouquet picked from my own gard- 
en. Her blue eyes fill with tears; 
she is unable to speak, but the 
flowers tell what she has come to 
say. I reach joyfully for the flowers, 
and the little blond head goes down 
on my pillow. It is so lonesome at 
home without Mommie. 

I am again in a hospital, stand- 
ing beside a white bed. It is a 
crisis in our lives; our daughter is 
very ill with pneumonia. I lay a 
cool hand on her feverish brow. 
''Darling/' I begin, trying not to 

let my voice betray my fear, ''re- 
member how our sweetpeas looked 
last summer on the fence? They 
were so pretty when a cool breeze 
stirred them." It is my way of say- 
ing, ''Don't be afraid, dear. God 
will watch over you and make you 
well, even as he can change a very 
small seed into a beautiful flower- 
ing plant." She smiles and closes 
her tired eyes in sleep. It is a very 
good sign. 

Today a spring shower has re- 
freshed my flower garden. The 
bleeding heart is blooming beau- 
tifullv. The iris, narcissus, and tu- 
lips are waiting to be made into a 
bouquet for our table. Through 
the spring, summer, and fall, I will 
find things to say to my family and 
friends, and I will say them with 

O^reserving Tfietal [Planters 

Elizabeth Wiliiamson 
qX) prevent the corrosion of metal planters, line them with melted paraffin. 

Things Will Be Different 

Virginid M. Kaiiiiiieyer 

SALLY looked around the apart- 
ment, surveying it with dis- 
gust. "Will I be glad to get 
away from you!" she thought. 

They would be moving soon- 
she and Bill and the children, 
away from the ugly little apartment, 
into the beautiful house with the 
big lawn and the willow tree. 

Sally leaned on her broom and 
dreamed. She wouldn't take one 
piece of furniture from this living 
room, not one thing! She'd give it 
all to the junk man and buy new 
for the home they were moving to. 
She gave the sofa a look that 
should have withered it. One side 
sagged where the children had 
jumped on it too hard. And the 
once-attractive blue frieze uphol- 
stery had succumbed to smears of 
peanut butter, jelly, and molding 

Those plastic curtains were go- 
ing out. She would have draw drapes 
at the big picture window— maybe 
cream-colored silk with appliqued 
roses to match the roses in that 
elegant carpet she had seen in 
Kranowski's window. 

She pulled herself back to the 
present, picked up the broom, and 
set it down again. She didn't feel 
like cleaning this place anymore. 
Why bother to mop and wax the 
floors, dust the furniture? Soon 
sJie would be bidding it all goodby. 

Sallv decided to nourish her soul. 
She pushed Karl's truck out of the 
way and sat down with the new 
Home Lovely magazine. She flipped 
through the pages of beautiful ex- 
teriors and exquisite interiors, read 
an article on color schemes, and 

Page 306 

paused to admire a pictured dexil's 
food cake and dream of whipping 
it up in her own gleaming kitchen. 

She became so absorbed in the 
magazine that she jumped when 
the kitchen door banged. Four- 
year-old Karl and three-year-old Ann 
came in, demanding lunch. Sally 
looked at the clock— one-fifteen! 
She'd really have to fly if she got 
anything done before Bill came 
home from work. 

She hurried the children through 
lunch and got them down for naps, 
then washed the dishes and mopped 
up the soup and crumbs under the 
table. It was three o'clock before 
she got to cleaning the living room. 
Bill would be home at four-thirty. 

She shoved the children's dis- 
carded sweaters into the closet, 
dumped all their toys together into 
a box, and threw out some wilted 
flowers. Now to make the beds 
and see what she could prepare for 

It was four-twenty-five. Sally op- 
ened the refrigerator and found 
some wieners and cold boiled po- 
tatoes. The children would love it 
if she fried the potatoes, but she 
wasn't so sure about Bill. He liked 
his meals balanced. 

She backed away from the re- 
frigerator, both hands full, and 
bumped into her husband in the 
narrow space between refrigerator 
and table. Wieners and potatoes 
flipped upside down on the floor. 

''Oh, Bill! Just see what you've 

She knew she shouldn't be blam- 
ing Bill for the accident, but the 
afternoon's rush had left her short- 



tempered, and, as she picked the 
food off the floor, the tiny kitchen 
suddenly irritated her. 

We need traffic hghts to get 
around in here, she thought, and 
then grew more cheerful as she 
thought of leaving it all behind. 

"DILL still stood with the evening 
paper in his hand, wearing that 
"Now what have I done?" look. 
Sally gave him a peck on the cheek 
and carried the wieners to the sink 
to wash them off. 

Fried potatoes brought squeals 
of delight from the children and a 
disapproving look from Bill. Sally, 
on the defensive, said, ''Honey, I 
can't prepare a decent meal on two 
square feet of counter space." 

Bill grunted and speared a potato. 

''Just wait, darling," and she put 
an arm around him, "when we move 
into that beautiful big kitchen I'll 
prepare wonderful meals!" 

Next morning the bank called to 
tell Sally that the loan had gone 
through and they could come in 
any time to sign the final papers. 
Sally put down the phone, and, 
humming, went to find a box to 
pack her best dishes. 

She was crumpling newspaper in 
the bottom of the box, when the 
air split with screams from outside. 
Sally jumped to her feet and ran 
out the door. Karl and a neighbor 
boy were chasing Ann around the 
yard, squirting her with their water 

"Stop it! Both of you!" she cried 
and dragged the sobbing child away. 
"Don't ever do that again!" And 
she marched Ann into the house. 
She comforted her with a cookie 
and resumed her packing. 

It's the neighbor boys who teach 

Karl those things, she decided, just 
wait till we move into a civilized 

The days moved quickly. Sally 
packed their belongings, wrote 
change-of-address letters to the milk- 
man, the mailman, and the tel- 
ephone company. She handed in 
to the rental office their notice of 
intention to vacate, and received in 
return a mimeographed sheet of in- 
structions for leaving the apartment. 
Be sure, it said, to empty the garb- 
age, mow the lawn, turn in the key, 
and so on, and so on. 

She handed the sheet to Bill 
when he came home, with the sug- 
gestion that he get busy on "oper- 
ation lawn mower." 

Bill flopped in a chair, a pained 
expression on his face. "Let a man 
rest for a minute. I'll get at it after 

He didn't get at it after supper, 
nor the next night, nor the next. 
Tuesday evening Sally reminded 
him that they were moving Friday. 
Wednesday at supper she reminded 
him again, a little more firmly, and 
on Thursday afternoon when he 
came home, the lawn mower was 
barring the door, Sally standing 
grimly behind it. 

"O.K," Bill said, shame in his ex- 
pression, "I'll mow it. But, you 
know, I'd enjoy it a lot more if it 
was our own lawn." 

His voice began to show enthus- 
iasm as he pushed the mower 
through the grass. "Just wait till 
I get started on our own yard. I'll 
really manicure that lawn— and 
trim the willow tree— and plant 
more flowers!" 

'pHEY spent Friday and Saturday 
moving. Bill rented a truck. 



and together they tugged and heaved 
the furniture onto the back of it. 
Sally had lost her battle to get rid 
of the living-room pieces. She was, 
in Bill's opinion, lucky to get a 
house. So the sagging sofa went 
along to the new home. 

When the last load was dropped 
in the middle of the living room, 
Sally stopped to survey the place. 
This was home, with the willow 
tree, the wide lawn, and the wis- 
teria over the front step. She was 
completely happy. 

Sunday morning found them 
tired, stiff, and barely able to pull 
themselves to church. They came 
home and nibbled on cold cuts from 
the refrigerator, and Bill reminded 
Sally, ''Be sure to call the electric 
company tomorrow, so they can 
send a man out to connect up the 

Monday morning Sally waved her 
husband off to work, shooed the 
children out to play, and then sat 
down on a box of books, wonder- 
ing where, in the littered living 
room, to begin putting things away. 
The enormity of the task depressed 
her, and she was tired. The Home 
Lovely magazine lay on top of a 
barrel of dishes, and Sally picked 
it up. 

She was intently comparing color 
schemes in the magazine when she 
was shocked to attention by a ser- 
ies of screams that could come from 
no one but Ann. Sally sprang to 
the door and saw Karl dragging 
Ann about the yard. Ropes bound 
her hands and feet. 

''Karl! Stop it! What are you do- 

"We're Indians. Fm lasseling 

"Well, don't let me catch you 

doing it again!" She rescued her 
daughter, untied the cords, and 
started back toward the house. She 
noticed a lot of scraggly weeds along 
the brick walk, and stooped to pull 
one or two. An hour later she was 
still at it. She paused long enough 
to make the children sandwiches 
for lunch, and found, upon enter- 
ing the kitchen, that Ann had tried 
to help herself to milk from the re- 
frigerator and had dropped the 
whole quart. Sally cleaned up the 
mess and cut her finger deeply on 
a piece of glass. 

When the children were asleep, 
she went back to the weeding. As 
she bent and pulled, she was grad- 
ually aware of a noise— one that had 
been going on for some time. 

CALLY stood up suddenly, realiz- 
ing it was the sound of running 
water. She followed it to its source, 
and stood aghast. One of the chil- 
dren had turned on the hose and 
left it running full blast near the 
half-open basement window. Water 
was pouring into the dark depths 

She turned off the water and 
dashed for the basement door to 
survey the damage. It was worse 
than she had imagined. The water 
pouring in from outside lay two in- 
ches deep near the window, and 
a leaking pipe overhead was adding 
to the flood. 

Sally ran to get a mop and a 
broom to stem the tide before it 
spread to their trunks of precious 
things. She pulled on her over- 
shoes and waded in, sweeping the 
water before her to the door. 

Mop, sweep, mop, sweep, for two 
hours she worked, until she had 
swept all she could out the door, 



had wrung more out into a bucket, 
and the remainder lay in damp pud- 
dles on the floor. 

At four-thirty Bill found her 
flopped in exhaustion on the couch. 
''Hey, lazy bones," and he shook 
her. ''What's for supper?" 

"Supper!" Sally reared up and 
looked at him with horrified eyes. 
"I forgot to call the electrician to 
hook up the stove!" 

"Yeah? Well, what have we 
got?" and Bill stalked to the refrig- 
erator. "Wieners and cold pota- 

It was too much. The whole 
day had been too much. She began 
to cry, and found she couldn't stop. 
She was tired, she hurt, and noth- 
ing seemed to be going right. 
Through her tears she saw Bill 
standing over her with that "Now 
what have I done?" expression. 

Where have I seen that look be- 
fore? she wondered, and, realizing 
where, began to giggle, her sobs of 
exhaustion gradually turning to an 
agony of laughter. 

Bill grabbed her shoulders and 
shook her hard. "What's the mat- 
ter? Hey, stop it, for goodness 

''Oh, Bill!" And she went off in- 
to peals of laughter again. "I'm 
laughing at myself. For being so 
stupid! I thought just moving 
would change everything. I expect- 
ed this to be heaven— and it's not! 
The lawn's a mess, the plumbing 
leaks— even the wisteria's got blight. 
And I"— she began to laugh and 
sob at the same time, "I'm the same 
inefficient, forgetful person I've 
always been. Even the children are 
as naughty as ever. Oh, honey," 
she put an arm around her puzzled 
husband, "starting right now, I'm 
going to try to make this a heaven 
for you and the children. I'll budget 
my time, and write down notes, 
and keep track of things . . . ." 

Bill was thoughtfully rubbing her 
hand between his, trying to think 
of what to say. "Maybe," he said, 
"all of us together can gain heaven, 
a step at a time. I think I'll start 
right now by mowing the lawn." 

Sally, putting away books, watched 
him from the window, and out of 
a new understanding and maturity 
(or maybe she had read it some- 
where) said, "We make a heaven 
for ourselves right where we are— 
or nowhere." 

1 1 Lormng (^lones 

Evelyn Fjeldsted 

Morning glory bells are ringing; 

The wind has found their muted chimes. 

Wings of butterflies are tipping 

In their silent, aerial climbs. 

High above a plane is flying, 
With sun-splashed wings, far out of harm. 
The might}' engine, lifting, singing, 
Fills the sky with morning charm. 

Butterfly and plane creation. 
Each to its own destination! 

JLaunder olhat Vi/hite Shirt Ljourself 

Ruth K. Kent 

OEND a white shirt to the laundry a few times, and you v/ill spend enough to buy 
^ a new shirt. It is easy to do up a white shirt when you know how. This is the 
way I have found to be best for me. 

The ironing itself is not so much the problem as the preparation for ironing. First 
the washing — scrub the collar and cuffs with soap and a stiff brush. Wash as usual 
and rinse out all the soap. It is advisable to rinse a white shirt even though a no-rinse 
detergent has been used, in order to rid it of any grimy water. Hang the shirt on the 
line by the back shirttail, being sure to spread it wide. Pull the collar, cuffs, and but- 
ton hole pleat down the front into shape. Hang in the sun to dry, if possible, or 
someplace in the air, where the shirt will dry quickly. If it must be dried inside, do 
not crowd it. 

Do not starch the shirt until it is dry. To starch, use one tablespoon of a good 
starch to one cup of warm water. (Use more starch if the shirt is to be stiffer, but 
that must be determined by experimenting). Add one teaspoon of salt to the starch 
and stir well. Now dip the collar into the starch, rub it in well, and wring out. 
Do the same with the cuffs, being careful not to get the starch on the sleeves. And 
for an especially good job, gather just the pleat in front into your hand and dip it 
into the starch and wring out. Now sprinkle the whole shirt and roll tightly. 

Before ironing, make these important preparations: See that the iron is clean. 
Wash off the bottom, and, if necessary, scour off lightly any black spots. Place a 
clean dish towel or part of an old sheet over the ironing board cover. Spread news- 
papers on the floor beneath the ironing board. And, if available, put a piece of beeswax 
or ironing wax beneath the ironing board cover at the head of the board. Set the 
iron just below "cotton," or approximately 350 degrees. If the iron is too hot, it will 
leave scorch marks where repeated ironing is necessary. 

First iron the under side of the collar, pushing in from the corners to the center. 
Iron the band until it seems dry. Turn over and do the outside of the collar, being 
careful to push any fullness to the back of the collar. Now move the collar to the 
far edge of the board and let it hang over. Iron the collar band on the edge of the 
board until it seems dry. If the iron pulls hard, rub it across the wax placed at the 
head of the board and it will glide smoothly. 

Iron the cuffs on the wrong side from the bottom edge toward the sleeve. Push 
the iron up into the sleeve from the inside of the cuff. Now, do the right side of the 
cuff. Flatten the sleeve along the underarm seam and iron the sleeve flat on the 
board, doing the side with the placket first. Iron out all the wrinkles carefully where 
the sleeve joins the cuff and do the placket neatly. Turn the sleeve over and do the 
other side. If the sleeve seems to pucker at the underarm seam, pull and stretch the 
seam while ironing. 

Fold the shirt along the line where the back is seamed to the yoke. Lay the 
yoke flat on the board and iron carefully. 

Iron the left front first, starting at the underarm seam and working towards the 
buttons. 1 hen do the back, then the right front. Iron the pleat on the right front 
on the underside first, then iron dry and smooth on the right side. This is one of the 
most important tilings to watch when ironing a white shirt. The shirttail ne^d not 
be done so carefully. 

Go over the collar and cuffs once again. Hang the shirt on a hanger to dry. And 
it is best to store shirts on hangers if there is hanging space available. 

Page 310 


If the shirt must be folded, do it the way the army does. Button the shirt and 
place it on a large flat surface (bed or table) back down. Gently fold the collar down 
against the breast of the shirt. Fold one sleeve straight across the front, the other 
sleeve over the first one. Lift the shirt tail and fold it a third of the way up. Now 
lift this fold and place it even with the top of the shirt. The shirt is now just the 
right size to lay away in a dresser drawer or a suitcase. If it must be made smaller, 
fold it in three, once from left to right, then the other side over this. It will come 
out unwrinkled in the places that show the most. 

It takes a little practice to learn how to launder a white shirt, but it pays off 
in savings, and in a man's pride when someone asks him, "Say, who does your shirts 
so well?" 

tylnrnversara oc 

nniversary oouvenirs 

Mabel Law Atkinson 

'T^HIS morning, while rummaging through my spacious treasure-chest of memory to 
■^ find the gift of love I needed in my longing for children's laughter, I came across 
a box carefully wrapped and labeled, "Anniversary Gifts, 1934." 

Tears flowed freely as I opened each parcel wrapped in plain brown wrapping 
paper and saw the cherished gifts and the childish writing on the homemade, flower- 
decorated cards. The first revealed a small rag dolly fashioned out of old white knitted 
underwear by the untrained hands of a Httle daughter of eight, the face worked in 
black uneven stitches, the body stuflfed with bits of underwear cut fine by fingers that 
yearned to do artistic work like her twelve-year-old sister. Her gift, when opened, 
proved to be a hanky made from a salt sack, hemmed and embroidered by small hands 
which at that tender age were prophetic of her later skill. 

A bitter-sweet fragrance escaped as I began unwrapping the next gift, a "bookay 
of buetiful dandelines" from my four-year-old son whose note had been written by his 
older brother. Again I saw the childish beauty of this curly-haired "little brother" 
gathering the flowers for me. Again I heard the hlting music of his laughter. 

I opened the last parcel with the hands of love tightening about my heart, and 
pearls of tenderness illumining my eyes, for the lad whose gift this was, is with us no 
more. Tied to the handle of a little basket made of burrs and filled with moss and 
wild violets, was a note in a loxed, remembered boyish scrawl: "I have no muney, but 
I luv you." 

Again I saw this lad as a chubby babe of two sitting in the dooryard of a rented 

home, sans lawns and flowers, pulling bunch after bunch of the first tiny redroots of 

spring and laughing for very joy as he saw the pink rootlets. Seeing me watching, he 
held up a handful, calling, "See! Pitty, mama, pitty!" 

He loved beauty even then and found it in the pink of the roots of weeds. I 
recalled how, as he grew older, he was always bringing me starts of flowers for the win- 
dow, and later on for a garden by our very own home. With gratitude in my heart 
that God had let me keep him until he was mature, I offered up a prayer that he is 
finding beauty in the heavenly gardens as he walks through them at sunrise as he loved 
to do here. 

What wealth was mine that morning as each shyly gave his gift! 

Since then I have received beautiful and costly gifts, but none have given me 
greater joy than those simple offerings of love on that anniversary in "our poverty 
year" when there were no nickels to spare. 

The Right Decision! 

Frances C. Yost 

MARGARET Shelby popped ''Smells good," John sniffed, 
the rolls in the oxen, then "We're famished, aren't we, kids?" 
took another peek at the din- John and Margaret let the chil- 
inc^-room table. It was beautiful dren supply the table conversation, 
with its centerpiece of autumn as- for their day's experiences were bub- 
ters. Margaret's best silver sparkled bling over. After the meal was fin- 
on the alabaster linen. She was ished, Margaret saw her dinner set, 
using her teakwood dinner set this linen, and silverware put in their 
evening. places, then she joined John in the 

'Tes," Margaret said aloud, living room, 
"everj'thing is just beautiful. Why, 'Tou're a heart-filling armful," 

anyone would think I was enter- John said, laying aside his paper and 

taiiiing the Governor, instead of my pulling Margaret down on the 

family." Someone said the way to couch beside him. ''Now we have 

a man's heart is through his stom- a minute to ourselves. Marge, I have 

ach, Margaret thought. With things something mighty important to dis- 

sort of special, perhaps John will cuss with you." 
break down and tell me what's been Margaret studied his face. It was 

bothering him lately. almost too serious. He was going 

Margaret went to their bedroom to tell her without asking. "Yes?" 

and chose a brown rayon dress she questioned, 
splashed with a daisy design because "Hang it. Marge, I was going to 

John liked it. Making a quick tell you how important it is for a 

change, she combed her hair and fellow to have a higher education in 

added just a touch of makeup, the business world today. I had so 

Then, viewing herself in the mirror, many reasons, but I might as well 

she said aloud: "I may not be an get to the point right off. I want to 

illustrator's dream of young Mrs. get a leave of absence from the of- 

America, but I have a good hus- fice and work for my degree." 
band, and I hope to keep him." "Oh, John!" Margaret gasped. It 

Margaret's chin set with determina- was as if she had been pricked with 

tion. a red-hot goad. "I thought you 

As she waited at the door to wel- were satisfied, you've worked up." 
come John, Margaret thought, life "It's a competitive world. A fel- 

is good, I'm blessed with a perfect low needs a good education to make 

husband, if tJiere ever was one, a the grade. I never had a chance be- 

handful of healthy children, a good fore, but now we're kind of ahead, 

home we can call our own, just I thought . . . ." John valued her 

everything. Except that something common sense; even more, he val- 

is bothering John, and I mean to ued her happiness. He counseled 

find out exactly what it is, and to- with her for both reasons, 
night. "CoUcge^'' Margaret repeated the 

Page 312 



word which cut her as a razor blade 
—thin and deadly sharp. Her sen- 
sible mind weighed the problem as 
she saw the facts. 

Just when they were beginning to 
be able to have a few of the nice 
things of life, like the Tiltons next 
door, then, suddenly, to be asked 
to run a home without a steady in- 
come, was overwhelming! Margaret 
saw again in her mind's eye their 
first years of marriage, the skimping 
and saving, the making over and 
making do. John had been in col- 
lege then. Margaret felt a shudder 
run over her, remembering. 

Things wouldn't be the same 
with John a college man. He would 
have to have quiet to study, or he 
might be away at the library or at 
school functions. The very thought 
of John in college was as if Mar- 
garet had been told John would 
suddenly be swept from the earth. 
She dared not speak lest she scream 
out in protest. 

They sat in silence while the 
precious seconds ebbed, then John 
reached over and took Margaret's 
chin in his strong, brown palm. A 
sudden film came over Margaret's 
eyes as he peered into her face. 

'1 know it's a shock, Margaret 
darhng." His dark eyes looked at 
her, but seemed to see into some 
reality beyond. "I can't tackle it 
without your help. You think it 
over for a dav or two. Registration 
is a week off. I know you'll make 
the right decision. 

* * * * 

lyrARGARET heard John playing 
with the children in the back 
yard. Her own heart lay buried 
deep and aching. She picked up 
the evening edition of the paper 
and scanned it, but the words 

blurred beyond readability, leaving 
the entire space for two single 
words which seemed to stand em- 
bossed in black type— John . . . col- 

Margaret laid aside the paper, 
walked to her little pearwood desk 
and opened it. She took clean 
writing paper and pen. There was 
a pigeonhole full of letters to be an- 
swered; this evening would be a 
good time. But her pen trails hesi- 
tated until she allowed to be writ- 
ten the words which kept racing 
through her mind: John wants to 
return to college. Margaret tore 
the paper into pieces, then crump- 
led them for good measure, and 
dropped them into the wastebasket 
at her feet. She closed the desk 
and walked out into the garden. 

Autumn reigned with all its col- 
ors. A firey sugar maple, a burning 
oak, and a golden poplar mingled 
their brilliant leaves. White-limbed 
birches stood like nymphs in the 
shower of their gold hair. The 
mountains stood clothed in red and 
golds, with touches of bright ever- 
green, but Margaret was uncon- 
scious of the beauty of her surround- 
ings. She walked as if in a daze to 
the aster bed. 

Here she had picked large gold 
and purple balls to adorn her table 
only a few hours before. She 
plucked the head from one, leaving 
the long stem unclad among its 
friends. Then her fingers began 
pulling the petals from autumn's 
queen of flowers. The petals fell 
one by one on the grass at her feet 
with alternate words— he will, he 
won't; he will, he won't. 

Margaret's life had been as fresh 
and full as the asters in the garden; 
now her life had suddenly become 



as crushed and bruised as the flower 
in her fingers. She thrust the svm- 
bol upon the ground. Then, push- 
ing the tears back, she entered the 
rear door of her home. 

Margaret could hear the chil- 
dren's voices above the rat-rat of 
the ping-pong balls in the base- 
ment. She decided to take a brisk 
shower. Then, perhaps, her family 
wouldn't notice her swollen eyes. 
But the shower was not refreshing 
as she had hoped, for the needles 
of hot water kept prickling into her 
flesh as if tattooing the word school. 

She donned a robe and went to 
their room to put on something 
fresh. As she entered their room, she 
usually took renewed pride in the 
chintz curtains and the spool bed 
in a white petticoat, but tonight 
she noticed none of this. John had 
crawled, as if exhausted, into bed. 
Poor dear, Margaret thought, if he 
goes to college, he'll never know 
what it is to sleep early evenings. 

Somehow Margaret managed to 
plow through the evening tasks of 
undressing the little children, listen- 
ing to their prayers, and tucking 
them in for their dreams, but the 
feeling of brooding menace never 
left her. 

It was past her usual bedtime 
when she brushed her teeth, jerked 
the window open, and crept be- 
tween the sheets. Hours later she 
awakened shaking. She rolled her 
head from side to side, but her body 
remained rigid, conscious of the 
sharp pain deep inside. Sleep must 
have taken possession of Margaret 
again, for when she opened her eyes 
it was a new day. But, for Mar- 
garet, it lacked the usual anticipa- 
tion which a new day brings. 

1UIGHT followed day and day 
night, and it was Wednesday 
afternoon. Margaret stood gazing 
into their cold unused fireplace as 
she listened to the petulant drip of 
an autumn rain on the roof. Her 
hands were clammy as she churned 
inside. The hurt bewilderment 
still clouded her eyes. The very 
thought of years ahead with John 
at school stretched like a vast gray 
ocean— monotonous, endless empti- 
ness. John had said she would 
make the right decision. Well, she 
would, all right. She would point 
out how the hundreds of war brides 
were struggling to help support a 
tiny brood of kiddies while their 
husbands sat in classrooms. She 
had seen too many young wives 
with their angular faces, always 
looking worn and sharply tired be- 
hind their brave front. 

Margaret's plan of action was 
clear now. John had said to think 
it over for a day or two. She had. 
Now, the moment John came home, 
she would point out calmly and 
clearly without any tears or violence, 
the wisdom of his going on with 
his job, devoting his time to the 
children and herself. Margaret re- 
hearsed her talk, reassuring herself 
before she tried to convince John. 

Just then the doorbell rang. Mar- 
garet crossed the room to answer 

"Why Mrs. Tilton!" Margaret 
said, her voice a little thick, 'Von't 
you come in?" Margaret had been 
crying. Her last glimpse in the mir- 
ror had assured her that she looked 
as if she had fallen flat on her face. 
Yet she desperately hoped her 
neighbor wouldn't notice. 

''I just dropped over to say good- 
bye. We're leaving the end of the 



week," Mrs. Tilton stated. 

''Leaving. '" Margaret echoed her 

''Yes, work is taking Marvin to 
Armorville, so we're taking just 
what few things we need." Mrs. Til- 
ton spoke with no outward appear- 
ance of regret. 

"But your lovely home?" Mar- 
garet questioned. "How can you 
bear to leave it?" 

"Well, I must confess I've never 
become married to any one house. 
Oh, I will admit it isn't all sunshine 
and roses to pick up and leave, but 
whatever comes, Marvin and I will 
meet it side by side." Mrs. Tilton 
had a wide, intelligent brow, and a 
generous, smiling mouth, things 
which Margaret had never noticed 

"You seem so very broad-minded, 
Mrs. Tilton. Why? Have you 
always felt like this ... I mean . . . 
standing by your husband in what- 
e\'er he wanted to do?" Margaret 
finished her sentence haltingly. 

"I owe my viewpoint, in fact, my 
happiness in life, to a certain pio- 
neer woman," Mrs. Tilton stated 
with doting inflection. 

"You do? May I ask her name?" 
Margaret inquired, making an over- 
ture of hospitality. 

"Why, yes, she was Phoebe 
Woodruff. A century ago she was 
a young wife like you, Margaret." 

"Please tell me about her." Mar- 
garet was gently being drawn from 
a fog. For the first time in three 
days she forgot herself. Her mind 
left the \'alley of dilemma and tra\ - 
eled the rugged path of the pio- 
neers .... 


RS. Tilton's soft voice seemed 
to lead the way. "As I remem- 

ber the story, the Woodruff couple 
was making their way to Kirtland to 
join the saints. Traveling wasn't 
streamlined, as it is today, and food 
was scarce. Hardships for Phoebe 
were more than she could bear. She 
passed away." 

"Oh! What a shame!" Margaret 
interluded. Forgetting herself, a 
bitter pain for Phoebe Woodruff 
rose strong and sharp in Margaret's 

"Her spirit left her body, for she 
saw her body lying on the bed and 
her husband and friends around 
her weeping. Then two personages 
came for her. One of the messen- 
gers informed her that she could 
have her choice, she could go to 
rest in the spirit world, or she could 
have the privilege of returning to 
her tabernacle, and continuing her 
labors on earth, on one condi- 
tion . . . ." Mrs. Tilton paused. 

"What condition?" Margaret 
queried, her heart taking up its 
slow, wary beat again. 

"Why, that she stand by her hus- 
band and pass through all his cares 
and trials and tribulations and af- 
flictions of life unto the end. 
Phoebe Woodruff looked at her 
husband and child and said, 'Yes, 
I will do it.' " 

"She did?" Margaret laid the 
two words out like little flatirons 
of exactly the same weight. "She 
chose the hard pioneer life just to 
help her husband? Death would 
ha\e been sweet." 

"But she chose to be on the side 
of her husband, my dear," Mrs. Til- 
ton went on in a low even voice. 
"This story, and a true one it is, 
has remained a guiding star in my 
life. It shows the place a wife has 
in hfe as a helpmate, the pulhng of 



a load together/' Her thin hands 
rested in her lap. 

'Together," Margaret framed the 
word softly, almost re\erently. 

"Yes, my child. God knew cross- 
ing life's path would be too diffi- 
cult for man alone. He gave him 
a companion." 

It was then the t\\'o women 
seemed to lay words aside and 
choose a silence. 

At length Mrs. Tilton arose. 
''Well, I must be going." Then, 
turning, she laid her hand on Mar- 
garet's shoulder. ''I hope you get 
to feeling better, my dear." 

Margaret walked to the door with 
Mrs. Tilton. Outside the clouds 
had broken. The sky was glorious 
and bright. It was as if bleak Oc- 

tober had moved back from the 
world, and summer had come to 
reign supreme again. 

It was tears of joy, mingled with 
relief, which rolled down Mar- 
garet's cheeks when the door was 
closed after her visitor. All her 
pent-up feelings of the past three 
days left her. Margaret's heart was 
washed clean, and filled with satis- 
faction and sweet contentment. 

She walked to the phone and 
dialed a number, then waited. 
"That you, John?" .... No, noth- 
ing's wrong with the children .... 
I'm all right, too, John. I feel 
wonderful! ... I know you're busy, 
and I won't keep you, ... I just 
wanted to tell you, John, I've made 
the right decision!" 




1 1 iother JLi 


Hannah C. Ashhy 

How silently and swiftly 
Time has sped the years; 
I wear a white carnation 
When Mother's Day appears. 

And in the great celestial plan 
Where family ties still hold, 
I know that she is waiting there- 
Her lo\e has not grown cold. 

Yet like a traveler of the deep 
Who sights the northern star, 
My mother's love still lights my path 
Though shining from afar. 

We know the stars that shine by night 
Are never seen by day. 
We walk by faith and not by sight; 
She taught me how to pray. 

So Snail Vf/e [Reap 

MaryhaJe WooJsey 

As surely as we tend the splendid fields 
Where grow our winter foods and next year's seed. 
We cultivate the days — for they must yield 
Life's memories on which old age will feed. 

f>r>-^ ' 

0£/7a tiLortensen — vi/otnan of f/Lany aiobbies 

IT would be difficult for "Aunt" Sina Mortensen of Mesa, Arizona, who was born 
January 19, 1868, at Pleasant Grove, Utah, to tell which of her hobbies is most 
important in her life, and which gives her the most pleasure. 

She is particularly skilled in crocheting, and her many exquisite designs reveal a 
keen sense of artistry and color. She is an excellent quilter, her nimble fingers always 
flying on Relief Society work meeting day. 

Her Church services ha\c included many years as a teacher in Relief Society where 
she has served in varied capacities, becoming a member when she was fifteen years of 
age. Now a member of the Mesa First ward, and still a visiting teacher, she brings 
joy and comfort to many homes. She has also been Religion Class, Sunday School, 
and Primary teacher. 

L^ome (gently, Spring 

Chiistie Lund Coles 

Come gently. Spring, 
Upon this street, 
Where youth once ran 
With jet-swift feet. 

Come gently, Spring, 
To mark the years, 
Where youth once shed 
Its war-dark tears. 

Come swiftly, Spring, 
Peace thread your rain. 
For youth is coming 
Home again. 

Page 317 

The Deeper Melody 

Chapter 8— Conclusion 
Alice Money Bailey 

MARGARET was waiting for 
Steve on the steps of the 
nurse's home. He rushed 
up to her, gripped her elbows in his 
palms, and searched her face. Her 
eyes were enormous and brilliant in 
her chilled face. She looked near 

''Steve!" she said through stiff 
lips. ''Steve, Fve broken my en- 

Light splintered in Steve's brain, 
but he held his physical reactions 
caJm. He put her wordlessly into 
his car and headed for the moun- 

"Relax," he told her quietly. 
''Don't talk, but lean your head 
back and rest." 

She leaned her head against the 
cushions and closed her eyes, but 
her set features told Steve she was 
not relaxing, and she was not rest- 
ing. He drove on, praying silently 
for the right words to say, the right 
things to do. When he had reached 
a point high above the valley, he 
turned the car into a sideway and 
switched off the engine. There was 
no sound there except the gentle 
sighing of the pines, and no light 
except the moon, which was shin- 
ing full and bright. 

He turned to Margaret. 

"Tell me about it," he com- 

"It wasn't just one thing, Steve," 
she said without moving or opening 
her eyes. "It was many things— first 
the way I felt about him, and the 
way I felt about you. I said I felt 
guilty about that, but I thought it 

Page 318 

would come after we were married 
—the right feeling, I mean. And 
then you said admiration was not 

Her incoherent words made beau- 
tiful sense to Steve, but he refrained 
from pressing the questions that 
rushed in upon him. "Go on/' he 

"It was finally the babies." 

"The babies?" queried Steve. 

"Your babies— Phyllis and Ilene. 
The way they came to me last Sat- 
urday. We quarreled about it, and 
you know, Steve, a quarrel is some- 
times a very good thing. Truth 
comes out in a quarrel. Rex doesn't 
want children. He said he was nev- 
er going to have any children, and 
I could jolly well make up my mind 
to that." 

"Could a man really mean a thing 
like that?" marvelled Steve. 

"He meant it, all right. He said 
he had worked hard for his place 
in his profession, and no encum- 
brance of children was going to 
change his course. He said family 
responsibilities had wrecked his fa- 
ther's career, forcing him into choic- 
es he did not want, and they were 
not going to wreck his. I could 
never change his ideas on that, or, 
in fact, anything else. I could see 
very clearly what my life would be. 
I would cease to be an individual. 
I could not even be a woman." 

"Thank fortune you saw it in 
time, darling," Steve commented. 

"Only, Steve! why didn't I see it 
before? Why did I have to wait 



until everything was so hopelessly 

"It isn't hopelessly involved." 
'It is! It is! All those invitations 
sent out, all those gifts that have 
come— the parties, the people, and 
the disgrace. I don't mind for my- 
self, but much as I disagree with 
Rex, how can I let him in for this? 
He is a prominent man, and there 
will be publicity and gossip. Espe- 
cially when it was all my fault. He 
loathes publicity, and gossip might 
ruin him professionally." 

^^VOU are excited, dear. This 
thing has built up in your 
mind. His friends will be secretly 
relieved at not having so much to 
do, the gossips will be delighted 
with a choice tidbit until another 
one comes along, and what they say 
will build up his practice, not wreck 
it. It will not be easy, dearest, but 
we'll help you— your mother and I. 
Can you move from the nurse's 
home tonight? I'll put you in a 
hotel where no one can find you, 
and we'll do the telephoning." 

She shook her head. ''No. This 
is my music and I'll have to face 
it," she said, and Steve had to be 

On the way back to the home 
Steve longed to explore what she 
had said about her feelings for him, 
but one glance at her face warned 
him she had taken the last ounce 
of emotion she could tolerate for 
one day, so he left her, full of wor- 
ry for her, full of misgivings, at the 
steps where he had picked her up. 

After he left her, however, the 
worries grew. By morning, if he 
knew Dr. Harmon, or any man, 
Steve reasoned, the fellow would 
have faced all these consequences 

and be willing to concede anything. 
He would be on the telephone or 
there to meet her, promising her 
anything her heart desired. In the 
face of all that was built up, could 
she withstand the man? 

He went directly to Mrs. Grain, 
awakened her, and told her what 
had happened. "Great day!" she ex- 
claimed, but sobered on the next 
thought. "It's going to be hard for 
her, Steve." 

"It is," agreed Steve grimly, "I 
still think the hotel is a good idea. 
I'll make a reservation and send you 
there with your things. Get her. 
Mother Grain, as soon as you can. 
Get her away from that hospital 
and handle everything from the ho- 
tel. For her sake, and for mine, 
guard her from that oversized sense 
of duty." 

The week that followed was the 
combined nightmare of anxiety and 
the heaven of seeing Margaret when 
he wished, of calling her several 
times a day, of taking her out every 
night, while her mother sat uncom- 
plainingly with the children and 
aided and abetted his every plan. 

He availed himself of all the mes- 
sengers—flowers, books, and candy 
—that he had longed to use before, 
but in all that week he mentioned 
no word of his own love for her. 
It was more than concern for her; 
it was a point of pride. He did not 
want the company, even in her 
thinking, of the other man. He 
wanted her free and clear of Dr. 
Harmon before he brought his own 
love again to her attention. Rather, 
his messages were of gaiety, even 

"This is the night watchman mak- 
ing his rounds," he would report. 



''Steve, you're insane," she would 
say, but her laughter was music to 
his cars. 

OE took her to movies, quietly 
watching her face instead of the 
screen, to theatres, to dine and 
dance, and to the symphony to hear 
Jascha Ileifctz. On the day she 
was to have been married he ap- 
peared at her hotel early in the 
morning and telephoned from the 

"I'll give you and your mother 
ten minutes to dress, my lady. The 
children arc out in the car, complete 
with lunch basket. Today we are 
going to Cripple Creek." 

''Steve, I can't," she said miser- 
ably. He could tell she had been 

"I won't take no for an answer. 
Either you come down, or I'll come 

"Don't you dare. I look a fright. 
Steve, you slave driver!" 

She came, though, in twenty-five 
minutes, not ten, dressed in a plaid 
skirt and a white blouse, much 
bathed as to eyes, which were swol- 
len in spite of it. 

Mrs. Crain flashed Steve a secret 
look of misgiving and thanks. Steve 
ignored everything and loaded them 
in with high adventure. 

"Have you ever been to Cripple 
Creek?" he asked them, and. was 
glad they said no, because he felt 
he could rely on the magnificent 
Corley Mountain Highway to inter- 
est them. 

Up and up they went, the road 
doubling back on itself in its sheer 
climb into grandeur. Steve was 
gratified to see color creep into 
Margaret's cheeks, excitement into 
her eyes, as she caught her breath 

in the dark beauty of aspens and 
pines, of lakes mirrored far below, 
of vista on vista unrolled, of soli- 
tude and loveliness. This was a 
veritable paradise of crag and for- 
est, of glass-cloar creeks and thun- 
dering cataracts. Steve had traveled 
it many times, but its beauty never 
failed to smite him anew. He felt 
a personal pride in showing it to 
Margaret and her mother. Even 
the little children watched the trees 
flash by in silent wonder. 

npHEY ate in a meadow two miles 
from Cripple Creek, beside a 
spring that bubbled out from be- 
tween two rocks. A weather- 
browned log house, abandoned, sans 
doors and windows, stood at the 
edge of the forest. Margaret loved 

"Oh, Steve! Look at it," she 
cried. "I want that sweet little 
house. This is a paradise. Wouldn't 
it be fun to live here?" 

"It would, indeed," agreed Steve, 
deciding then and there to investi- 
gate the possibility of buying it for 
a vacation home. One could have 
horses and pasture them in the lush 
meadow for long trips in the sur- 
rounding mountains. It ought not 
to cost a great deal. "I have never 
passed this spot without thinking 
the same thing!" 

"It's like a chapter from a Forty- 
niner tale," she said of Cripple 
Creek. "Steve, I can't believe it!" 

It was picturesque, the old, 
shacky buildings mingled with the 
new of modern machinery, the 
steep streets, and the little church 
with the old-fashioned steeple just 
beyond the modern school and li- 

As if to confirm Margaret's ob- 



servation, a burro, long-eared and 
slightly larger than a big dog, 
ambled out into the street and 
stopped in front of Steve's car. He 
applied the brakes and was able to 
halt short of hitting it, and they 
waited while its small Mexican mas- 
ter, with high excitement, wildly 
expressive eyes, and vivid Latin in- 
vective, tried to pull the stubborn 
little animal off the street. It pulled 
back on the frayed rope around its 
neck, and sat upon its haunches. 

The children shouted, Phyllis 
cried with fright, and Margaret and 
her mother laughed until they were 
weak. Several of the lad's friends 
came running; Steve got out of the 
car, and with concerted effort they 
pulled and pushed the determined 
little beast from in front of the car. 

Yes, it was a day to remember, 
and it accomplished its purpose. 
The women were relaxed on the 
way home and the children slept. 
Steve delivered Margaret and her 
mother back at the hotel weary to 
the bone, which was, this time, ex- 
actly as he wanted it. 

"She'll sleep tonight," prophesied 
Mrs. Grain. ''She hasn't slept all 
week for thinking, and Dr. Harmon 
has pestered her every minute you 

"She's had quite a week then, be- 
tween us," said Steve contritely. 

-M-EVERTHELESS, sharing Crip- 
ple Creek and the Corley Moun- 
tain Highway was solid and good 
within him, and only a sample of 
all the things he wanted to show 
her. He mentioned it to }. T. the 
next day. 

"You took your best girl to Crip- 
ple Creek yesterday?" repeated J. T., 
swinging around to stare at him 

suspiciously. "Steve, are you still 
letting that secretary lead you 
around by the nose?" 

"You jump at conclusions, J. T.," 
complained Steve. "You remember 
the nurse I told you about?" 

A broad grin spread over J. T.'s 
face. "You cut out her beau!" he 

"He cut himself out," Steve tem- 
porized. "She gave his ring back 
last week." 

"You don't say!" remarked J. T. 
happily. "Have you popped the 
question yet?" 

"You're too inquisitive," accused 
Steve, but went on, "I did that the 
day Sam was hurt. She turned me 

"Hm-m," said J. T., wrinkhng his 
brow in thought. "Steve, a man in 
your position should buy a home." 

"I'm going to," said Steve. "I've 
been looking for just the right thing. 
The place I'm in isn't . . . ." 

"I know just the right place for 
you," J. T. cut in. "A friend of 
mine built it a year ago. In fact, 
it isn't finished, and it's a bargain 
for twenty-three thousand." 

"Twenty-three thousand!" ex- 
claimed Steve. "What're you try- 
ing to do, J. T., line your friend's 
pockets at my expense? Where 
would I get that kind of money— or 
even a down payment?" 

"You've got to learn to think in 
bigger terms, boy," said J. T. "As 
for the down payment, I've never 
given you the bonus on that Kettle 
Creek deal, and you've got it com- 
ing. You go see that house— and 
take the girl along with you." 

He told Margaret nothing ex- 
cept that he had a surprise for her. 
She looked uncommonly well and 



rested. Steve could hardly drive for 
looking at her. Her eyes were hap- 
py and her mouth at peace. Steve 
put his hand over hers which was 
lying in the seat between them. She 
jumped visibly and flushed with 
pleasure. "Are you as happy as you 
look today?" 

lyiARGARET sighed. 'Terhaps I 
should tell you that Rex left this 
morning for Boston. He had an of- 
fer there he has wanted to take. Dr. 
Hanson wanted him in with him 
here. In fact, he was using the loan 
of his home as a little pressure point 
to swing Rex his way— letting us 
get married from there.'' 

''It is all finished, then? Are you 

''Sorry? No, Steve. No!" 

It was Steve's turn to sigh, with 
huge relief. 

Margaret looked at him sharply. 
"It strikes me, Steve, that, in my 
selfishness this past week— and be- 
fore, I have given you a bad time." 

"That you have, milady," agreed 
Steve lightly, "but you've given me 
heaven, too." 

They had driven far out, to- 
ward the hills, and suddenly they 
were at the house. It was fabulous. 
"I can't believe this is it," said 

"Believe it's what?" queried Mar- 
garet. "You mystify me, Steve. 
Whose gorgeous place is this?" 

"The place we're going to buy," 
said Steve, preoccupied with ring- 
ing the doorbell. When there was 

no answer he stepped back and com- 
pared the number with the address 
J. T. had given him. "It's the one, 
all right. The key fits!" 

They swung wide the door and 
entered, looking around in unbelief 
at the beauty which greeted them. 
They went from room to room with 
little cries of delight, calling atten- 
tion of each other to artistic touch- 
es or clever features. The builders 
had trapped spaciousness, sunlight, 
and mountain water with rare 
woods, gleaming chrome, and expert 
workmanship. Terraced down a 
sharp incline, it was raw and un- 
finished in some places, beautifully 
finished in others. They came at 
last to the picture window in the 
living room. It looked down upon 
a potential garden of black loam, 
sloping gently to a crystal brook, 
with natural woods beyond. There 
was a small, but complete orchard 
newly leafed, and space for vege- 
tables. Here was space for growing 
legs to run, work for hands. 

"Five bedrooms!" Margaret was 
saying, "and all that black soil! 
Steve, we can plant . . . ." 

She stopped short, lifting sweet, 
embarrassed eyes to Steve. 

"You said it correctly, darling. 
We can plant." 

He took a step toward her. "That 
kiss . . ." he began, thinking of the 
one in her ofi^ice, the only one, but 
words were too slow. 

"That kiss," she finished for him 
when she could breathe again, "was 
the final argument." 

With No Res-rets 

Myrtle M. Dean 

CHE came into my room; her eyes 
were sparkling pools of gladness, 
her lips were parted in a sweet 
smile. She was my youngest daugh- 
ter, Marcia. A wave of happiness 
swept through me to see her there, 
young, beautiful, and good. I have 
reared her to be so, I thought, with 
a pleased satisfaction in me. 

She spoke breathlessly, ''Mother, 
Jerry has asked me to marry him. 
Oh, Fm so happy." 

My stomach twisted into a knot, 
my heart sank heavily, and my sur- 
prise showed in my face. ''Marry!" 
I said. "Why, darling, you are lit- 
tle more than a baby, and are barely 
out of high school. Of course Jer- 
ry is a fine boy, but there is plenty 
of time for marriage after you have 
done— oh, so many things." 

I did not want to hurt her. I 
didn't want to tie her to my apron 
strings, but there was so much I 
had planned we would do together 
when we had time— when we had 
time I censured myself. Now I 
realized how I had let the daily 
grind of everyday things crowd out 
the little special things I had in- 
tended to do with my children. 
Marcia was my last one, and I clung 
to the thought of a little more time. 

She looked at me, crestfallen. 
The bright gladness had fled from 
her eyes. "But Mother, we are in 
Jove, really in love/' she said sol- 

They were in love, and in Sep- 
tember they were married. I tried 
to make her wedding a lovely one, 
but I was lonely and overwhelmed 

with regrets. Not for big things I 
had left undone. It was the little 
things— things that my children 
could have held close in memory all 
their days. 

5;c 5j: >;«>}: 5;e 


heard footsteps on the front 

porch, and then little feet hur- 
rying down the hall. 

"Hi, Grandma, you got any cook- 
ies?" It was Jack and Judy, my 
son's children. Jack was seven and 
Judy five. "Mommy says we can 
come and see you a little while," 
Jack said. 

I was glad there were cookies in 
the cookie jar. I looked at the 
clock, for their mother was careful 
about their eating between meals. 
It was just three o'clock, so a few 
cookies and a glass of milk would 
be all right. I took their hands and 
led them out to the kitchen. When 
they had finished eating we went 
out to the back garden. Judy flitted 
about like a lovely butterfly over the 
green grass. Jack hurried hither and 
thither exploring about the yard. 
They discovered a thing I had not 
seen there— a robin's nest in the red 
maple behind the house. There 
were four blue eggs nestled down in 
the softness of lint and feathers. 
They found a hornet's nest, shapely 
and beautifully fashioned, clinging 
to the eaves of the garage. 

"I've seen hornet's nests, and the 
inside has little pockets like honey- 
comb," Jack said. "Do they eat 
honey like the bees do?" he asked. 

I could not tell him, and I found 
there were many of their questions 

Page 323 



that I could not answer. I must 
find out more about all these things. 
I w anted to keep up with my grand- 

Judy ran back in fear, as she 
heard the bees buzzing about the 
flowers. Some were deep in the 
heart of the honeysuckle blooms. 
Jack proudly explained how the 
bees stole nectar from the flowers 
and carried it to a hive and placed 
it in the honeycomb that they had 
made to hold their honey. I smiled 
at his knowledge. 

Then the children lay in the 
shade on the grass to rest, while I 
sat nearby. We looked up at the 
blue ceiling of sky. Soft billowy 
clouds floated about, forming lovely 
pictures on the blue background. 
The children were delighted as they 
found them; flocks of white geese 
feeding by the side of a deep blue 
pond, fleecy lambs gamboling over 
the meadows, beautiful trees cov- 
ered with downy snowflakes, and 
great giants trying to push stones 
off a mountainside and hurl them 
down to earth. Then there were 
ships filled with bold pirates sailing 
swiftly across the sea to capture the 
gold that clung to the western sky 
at sunset, and to carry away all the 
crimson robes and purple, silken 
shawls that were lying on the moun- 
tain top as the sun slipped out of 
sight. The children and I laughed 
together, and I felt lighthearted and 
happy after this afternoon spent 
with my grandchildren. Perhaps 
some of my regrets could be less- 
ened by trying to help my grand- 
children find more of the beauty 
and goodness each day can hold. 

I had a great desire to help my 
young parents avoid regrets when 
their children would have gone to 

make homes of their own, to help 
them now to want to take snatches 
of every day to bind their children's 
hearts close by the things they 
could share. There are so many 
things to share: buttercups in the 
meadows, fish leaping in a sparkling 
stream, the lovely colors in a stone, 
a frightened rabbit or squirrel 
scampering away into the bushes. 
There is the wild, sweet aroma of 
burning mesquite or sage, with the 
hypnotic mystery of a veil of smoke 
from a campfire; then there are 
moments to quietly meditate and 
dream— dreams that uplift the spirit. 

\ morning sunrise is more than a 
signal to dress and eat a hur- 
ried meal, then rush to school or to 
work. Each rosy sunrise is the be- 
ginning of a wonderful new day. As 
the gray dawn flees after the quiet 
of the night, then come the morn- 
ing sounds— the birds, with first 
their gentle chatter in the treetops, 
then a bursting forth into their 
sweetest songs. And every hour of 
every day can give something fine 
and beautiful. 

It is worthwhile to enjoy the 
evening as the sun sinks low, and 
the sky is pointed with streaks of 
orange and gold and crimson, like 
fireworks sent up from some other 
world, when a soft glow is cast on 
the eastern hills that shelter the 
valley, the colors turning royal blue 
and terra cotta and smoky lavender 
which ends in misty gray, and then 
it is night. The lights of the day 
go out, but are replaced by a blue 
dome of sky filled with glittering, 
silver stars and a crescent moon. 

Then comes the sweetest time of 
all, when the family has gathered 
after the long day— a time for re- 



viewing of each other's doings; a bit 
of news or a chance adventure, time 
for reading, or the telhng of a story. 
When the httle one's eyes are heavy 
with sleepiness, cuddle them close 
and take them to fairyland, or bet- 
ter still, tell them a true story. Have 
you heard your child say, 'Tell me 
about daddy when he was a little 
boy." ''Tell me about mother when 
she was a child like me." One 
need not always tell thrilling tales 
of adventure, but just the little in- 
timate things that draw the chil- 
dren close. Stories of grandparents, 
of their faith, and their pioneer ad- 
ventures will bind their hearts to 
their forefathers. 

Have you heard people say, many 
times, ''If my parents had just told 
me more about their lives and of 
their people." "Why didn't I ask 
my father and mother more before 
they were gone? Now it is too 

Perhaps the things that we crowd 
out of our days for want of time are 
the big things, after all. We will 
forget what we have eaten, the bed 
we slept in, and the grind of daily 
things, but the lovely times of close- 
ness and beauty will linger to make 
our lives more glorious and our chil- 
dren's love more secure. With no 
regrets, we shall send them out to 
live joyous lives of their own. 

Qj alien i^iant 

Josephine ]. Harvey 

No longer will its shadow fall 
Across the corner of my lawn; 
Long, green fingers will not lift 
To hold the shining dawn. 

Yet in this quiet place, 
My eyes will always see 
The shadow-image 
Of a well-remembered tree. 

if CO the mood 

Jvinetta R. Olivei 

So many tasks each day to do! 
It seems to me I'm never through 
With work. The house to clean. 

The hands that need 
Be washed, the knees to scrub. 

And mouths to feed. 
As all day long I hurry there 
I wonder how my load I'll bear. 

But when the western sky is red 
And babes are gently tucked in bed. 
Asleep, I sit me down 
And softly sigh 

Because my mending box 

Is piled so high. 
I sew, and rock, and doze a bit; 
I am so tired when lamps are lit. 

And Dad, beside me, reads the news, 
Contented is my mood. I muse 
And smile. I do not care 

How tired my feet. 
We have our own dear home 

And babies sweet. 
I'll do each task as best I can 
And ask no more of life's brief span. 

cJhoii Shalt I Lever Crease to \^ro\f9 

Cawhne Eyring Miner 

She is over ciglity, that wonderful mother of mine, and she is following the un- 
written eommandment, 'i'hou shalt never cease to grow, literally. She is a member of 
the stake Sunday School board and does her studying and her visiting religiously. She 
is still reading for the public at showers and other entertainments; she still loves books, 
particularly the scriptures, and reads much. Her enthusiasm in life and in the beauties 
of nature is undiminished. She is ageless, and largely, because she has never ceased to 

"The glory of God is intelligence" (D, & C. 93:36), is a philosophy of the 
Church to which we should give more than Hp service. It has been stated in other ways: 
"As man is, God once was, and as God is man may become." How is this possible? 
By making the most of our time and talents. 

Time does not hang heavy on the hands of one who keeps the commandment, 
Thou shah never cease to grow. Interesting things to learn about and to learn to do, 
are infinite. Think of Grandma Moses, Winston Churchill, and others who have ad- 
ventured into painting or other new fields in later years. 

I recall as a child the many occasions when we read some of the choice books 
together, Tennyson's poems, The Last of the Mohicans, David Copperfieid, the stories 
from the Bible and The Book of Mormon. We all learned to love books as children, 
and it has been a priceless heritage. There was an active participation in reading that 
our television-watching children of today can never know. There was a freer choice of 
what was enjoyed. 

We took many walks as children, analyzing rocks, gathering and examining wild 
flowers, enjoying the sunset and the sunrise, and the birds' singing and nesting. We 
loved to lie on our backs and watch the varied cloud formations; I still trace in mem- 
ory the intricate patterns of ice and frost we studied and loved as children. We were 
keeping the commandment to grow always. 

All nature seems to follow this command: a tree puts on ring after ring of 
growth as long as life lasts; a seed pushes up and up through cement cracks or under 
porches, overcoming any handicap to grow and grow. Bodies, both human and ani- 
mal, grow and change as long as life lasts. 

"Thou shalt never cease to grow" is a commandment every mother should ex- 
emplify and teach to her children, for in keeping that commandment one will have 
eternal youth and happiness. 

vacation ^ust iueiioncl 

Mary Gustafson 

New lambs run the pasture, 
Calves frisk in meadow-green. 
Puppies chase the kittens 
With just a pace between. 

A colt romps through the morning, 
Three ducklings swim the pond; 
And sonny counts the hours away 
To sunnner, just beyond. 

Page 326 



1 1 Loneu ujank. 


Ida G. Garrett, St. Anthony Second Ward, Yellowstone Stake, Displays the Money 
Banks Which Provided 114 Magazine Subscriptions for Her Ward 

IN January 1953, Sister Garrett made unique Magazine banks and distributed them 
among the members of her ward so that when the time came for the renewal of 
subscriptions, each sister \\oukl have her money ready — and never miss the $1.50. 

When the special "Magazine Day" arrived, se\enty fi\e women were present, all 
bringing in their banks, which were then opened. Some of the sisters had saved more 
than enough money to pay for their Magazines, others a few cents less, and some had 
saved just enough for the price of a subscription. The result was twenty-five new sub- 
scriprions and eighty-nine renewals, making a total of 114 Magazines placed in a ward 
with only ninety-six members. 

On this special "Magazine Day," a program, taken enrirely from the Magazine, 
was presented, and the Magazine representatixe had new banks ready for the sisters to 
begin saving subscription money for another year. 

The banks were made by fastening two paper plates together with rinfoil, and 
trimmed with ribbon. The banks were colorful and attractixe and added to the decora- 
tion of the home kitchens. A small slit was made in the top of each bank for the 
insertion of coins. 

Page 327 

Magazine Subscriptions for 1953 

Counselor Marianne C. Sharp 

npHE loyalty, appreciation, and 
zeal which Reliei Society Maga- 
zine representatives devote to their 
work of placing The Reliei Society 
Magazine in Latter-day Saint homes 
and the support of the Relief So- 
ciety officers, are greatly appreciated 
by the general board. Through the 
outstanding services of Magazine 
representatives The ReUef Society 
Magazine as of December 31, 1953, 
was found in 121,014 homes. This 
Magazine for women goes into more 
Church homes than any other 
Church magazine. 

Latter-day Saint standards are re- 
flected in all the contents of the 
Magazine. The Relief Society les- 
sons contained therein, if studied 
and lived, will implement the words 
of the Prophet Joseph Smith when 
he directed that this society should 
save souls and that the society 
should assist by correcting the mor- 
als and strengthening the virtues of 
the community. 

It is a far-reaching service which 
Magazine representatives perform in 
placing The Relief Society Maga- 
zine in the homes of the sisters of 
the Church. Many who excel in 
their calling have given years of de- 
voted service. Year after year, some 
of the same names appear with out- 
standing records of achievement on 
the honor roll. 

While all manuscripts which are 
submitted for publication are not 
accepted, it gives the general board 
satisfaction to find how widespread 
geographically are the submissions 
of sisters who show a desire to in- 
crease their writing talents and speak 
to the sisterhood throughout the 
world from the pages of The Rehef 
Society Magazine. 

With the increase of 7,613 sub- 
scriptions in 1953 over 1952, the 
hearts of ward and stake Magazine 
representatives should rejoice. Fif- 
teen more stakes made the honor 
roll in 1953 than in 1952 and there 
were sixty-seven stakes which 
achieved 100 per cent or over (near- 
ly one-third of all the stakes); there 
were forty-seven who made percent- 
ages between ninety and one hun- 
dred; and forty-six who made per- 
centages from eighty to ninety. The 
average number of subscriptions 
steadily rises each year. 

The general board is happy that 
the support of the sisters enables 
their Magazine to continue to be 
published by and for them, and, in 
addition, rejoices to realize that 
this type of reading material, calcu- 
lated to encourage and ennoble, is 
welcomed into Latter-day Saint 
homes throughout the world. 

Page 328 

Crionors for aiighest Lfiatings 


South Los Angeles (California) 245% 
Magazine Representati\e — Nancy Rupp 


Downey First Ward, South Los Angeles Stake (California) 329% 
Magazine Representati\e — Connie Price 


Western States — 1 1 5 % 
Mission Relief Society President — Mildred M. Dillman 

Mission District 

West Nebraska District, Western States Mission, 203% 
District Magazine Representati\e — Emma Mae Allen 

Aiission Branch 

Skamokawa Branch — 360% 

Puget Sound District, Northwestern States Mission 

Magazine Representati\ e — Anna Jean Hedelius 

Ten Highest Percentages in Stakes 

South Los Angeles 245. ...Nancy Rupp 

San Joaquin i5o..-.Retta J. Watkins 

Nyssa 147. ...Mae A. Boyer 

Glendale 140. ...Elsie Weber 

Oquirrh 132. ...Enid O. lieise 

Minidoka .-. 1 27.. ..Myrtle C. Lloyd 

Provo 1 26.. ..Flora Buggcrt 

Shelley 1 24. ...Merle Young 

Rexburg 1 24. ...Martha J. Erickson 

Burley i2o....Leona Budge 

East Los Angeles i2o....Zelma Beck 

Missions Achie\ing Ten Highest Percentages 

Western States 11 5. ...Mildred M. Dillman 

Central States 11 3.... Annie M. Ellsworth 

New England 9 5.... Carol Clark 

California 94.. ..La Priel Bunker 

Texas-Louisiana 91... .Phyllis D. Smith 

Northern States 89.. ..Nettie P. Smoot 

North Central States 86.. ..Laura M. Hawkes 

West Central States 85....Marteal W. Hendricks 

Canadian 85.... Anna H. Toone 

Western Canadian 85.. ..Elizabeth H. Zimmerman 

Page 329 



Ten Stakes \\'ith Highest Number of Subscriptions 





South Los Angeles 










Big Horn 






San Fernando 


East Long Beach 


Ten Missions With H 

ighest Number of Subscriptions 





Central States 


Northwestern States 




Central Atlantic States 


Southern States 




Western States 


Eastern States 


West Central States 


Great Lakes 


Stakes in 

Which All the 

Wards Achieved 100% or Above 

Bonneville Ruth Peterson 

Burley Leona Budge 

East Long Beach Margaret Bryan 

East Los Angeles Zelma Beck 

Glendale Elsie Weber 

Grant Caroline R. Bennett 

Long Beach Ethel Sponberg 

Moapa Florence A. Johnson 

Nyssa Mae A. Boyer 

Pasadena Louise Willard 

Pocatello Margaret Thomas 

Rexburg Martha J. Erickson 

San Joaquin Retta J. Watkins 

Santa Monica Lillie K. Whitehead 

Shelley Merle Young 

South Los Angeles.. ..Nancy Rupp 

Mission Percentages on Honor Roll 

Western States 
Central States 
New England 
Northern States 
North Central States 
West Central States 







Western Canadian 
Eastern States 
Northern California 
Southern States 
Northwestern States 
Central Atlantic States 

Q> takes 01/ ^Percentages 






South Los Angeles 


Union ] 




San Joaquin 


Palo Alto ] 






Santa Monica ] 


New York 




Long Beach : 






Moapa ] 


East Sharon 




Idaho Falls ] 






San Bernardino i 












South Salt Lake 


North Tooele 




Pocatello ] 




East Los A 



Pasadena ] 




East Long 





North Idaho Falls 


San Fernan 



Bear River 






South Box Elder 


North Rexburg 



East Mill Creek 

East Riverside 

North Pocatello 


South Idaho Falls 


North Box Elder 



Mt. Rubidoux 


San Diego 

West Pocatello 



American Falls 


Sugar House 


East Ogden 


North Jordan 



San Juan 



Ben Lomond 



Zion Park 


Mill Creek 

St. Joseph 

San Jose 

Raft River 


San Francisco 

Twin Falls 


Big Horn 


El Paso 

St. George 

W^est Utah 





East Rigby 



























West Jordan 

Monument Park 


Salmon River 




South Ogden 

North Carbon 




Mt. Graham 


East Jordan 




South Bear River 

Southern Arizona 


Mt. Jordan 



Mt. Ogden 

Columbia River 



North Davis 



Star Valley 




Bear Lake 

Salt Lake 



Weber • 







Santa Rosa 

San Luis 



Los Angeles 


94 Layton 

93 Lorin Farr 

93 Farr West 

93 Richland 

93 Emery 

92 Mt. Logan 

92 Wayne 

92 Alberta 

91 Snowflake 

91 Kanab 

91 Wells 

9 1 Nebo 

90 Franklin 

90 Temple View 

90 Woodruff 

90 Young 

90 North Weber 

90 Reno 

89 Lost River 

89 East Lethbridge 

89 East Provo 

89 Montpelier 

89 Juab 

88 North Sanpete 

87 Pioneer 

87 Hillside 

87 Roosevelt 

87 South Sevier 

87 Williamette 

87 Santa Barbara 

87 Detroit 

87 Hyrum 

86 East Cache 

86 South Davis 

86 Beaver 

86 Idaho 

86 Santaquin-Tintic 

85 Logan 

85 South Summit 

85 Garfield 

85 Juarez 

85 North Sevier 

84 Millard 

84 Panguitch 

84 St. Johns 

84 Moon Lake 

84 Riverside 

83 Lake View 

83 Summit 

83 South Sanpete 

83 Gunnison 

83 Lyman 

83 Moroni 

82 Morgan 

82 South Carolina 

82 Oahu 





























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Margaret C. Pickeiing, General Seeretary-Treasurer 

All material submitted for publieation in this department should be sent through 
stake and mission Relief Society presidents. See regulations governing the submittal 
of material for "Notes From the Field" in the Magazine for April 1950, page 278, and 
the Handbook of Instructions, page 123, 


Photograph submitted by Blanche K. Reid 


Seated, center, front row: Blanche K. Reid, President; at Sister Reid's left, First 
Counselor Ruth Jacques; and at Sister Reid's right, Second Counselor Lily Timothy 
and Secretary-Treasurer Phoebe Siddoway. 

Sister Reid, in reporting this happy occasion, writes: "Dora B. Callieott, Presi- 
dent, West Jordan Stake Relief Society, and her Counselor Mae Johnson were in at- 
tendance, and Sister Callieott gave a very inspirational address. She complimented the 
visiting teachers for their one hundred per cent record for the past two years, and the 
Magazine agent for obtaining one hundred per cent in 1953 and ninety-three per cent 
in 1952, and the excellent work of the class leaders — all of these contributing to the 
Bingham Relief Society having the highest average attendance in the West Jordan 
Stake .... Our chapel is situated on the side hill and must be reached by a series of 
cement steps, which many sisters cannot climb, so this attendance is quite an honor. 
Our population is ever changing. Last year there were eighteen changes in the visiting 
teachers. We have only one former president living in the ward." 

Paqe 336 



Photograph submitted by Viola Porritt 


January 22, 1954 

Front row, seated, left to right: Eliza Holland; Winifred Barfuss; Ethel Hamson; 
Lydia Roberts; Carol Stenquist; Hildur Stumm; Adna Conger; Elma Fuller. 

Seeond row, standing, left to right: E\elyn Jepperson; Beha Skinner; Louie Stokes; 
Lillian Barfuss; Margaret Smith; Ethel Hamson; Aliee Mae Buxton; Nola Rhodes; Ina 
Claire Fuller; Afton Rhodes; Vera John; Irene Kerr; Geneve Walker; Tekla Stenquist. 

Third row, standing, left to right: Dorthea Stenquist, ^isiting teacher supervisor; 
Hazel Roberts; Mae Roundy; Virginia Hansen; Aletha Konnely; Berniee Dedriekson; 
Greta Stenquist; Mareella jeppson; Sarah John; June Lee. 

Gertrude Iverson, a \isiting teacher supervisor, is not in the picture. 

A program was gi\en, and each teacher was presented with a Relief Society pin. 

Rebecca Mortensen is president of South Bear River Stake Relief Society. 

Photograph submitted by Grace West 



Front row, seated, left to right: Kay Nebeker; Dwella Hamblin; Clara Knight, 
Secretary-; Helen Barrett, Second Counselor; Grace West, President; Erma Fairbanks, 
First Counselor; Mary Sabine; Olive Harding; Effie Jewell. 

Second ro\\-, seated, left to right: Clara Duffin; EfTie Miller; Constance Aamodt; 
lone Moulton; Lottie E\ans; Lois Ilodginson; June Rogerson; Mary Nelson. 

Third row, standing, left to right: Martha Johnson; Wilhelmina Asmus; Oda Parks; 
Jane Jensen; Millie Nuffer; Donna Walker; Zadia Norman; Edith Shelley; Pearl Ohl- 
wiler; Laura Peterson; Ef?ie Jensen; Annie Williams; Thelma Colgrove. 

Ida A. Gallagher is president of Murray Stake Relief Society. 



Photograph submitted by Alice I. Ferrin 


January 27, 1954 

Stake chorister Theresa Sims stands at the right on the third row; stake organist 
Bernice French at the right on the second row; director of "Voice of the People," 
Dorothy Fife, stands at the left on the third row; Alice I. Ferrin, President, Gridley 
Stake Relief Society, stands at the left on the second row. 

Regarding this inspirational occasion. Sister Ferrin writes: "At our January union 
meeting we presented the very impressive special program which was given at our Oc- 
tober Relief Society conference. We divided the program into speaking, choral groups, 
and Singing Mothers. We assigned different wards to do certain parts of these .... 
We invited all officers and class leaders and all visiting teachers and anyone else who 
wished to attend, including the members of the Priesthood. The program was very 
well attended and well received. We feel that all who saw it had an increased ap- 
preciation of our heritage." 

Photograph submitted by Adella Ellis 




February 5, 1954 

Front row, seated, left to right: Elizabeth Jones; Lettie Ferrin; Susannah Johns; 
Florence Jensen; Emma Wade; Hattie Tarran, Secretary, Pleasant View Ward Relief 



Society; Adella Ellis, President; Norma Ferrin, First Counselor; Beth Parker, Second 
Counselor; Sarah Call, visiting teacher message leader; Eliza Tolman. 

Second row, standing, left to right: Mary Case; Thelma Rliees; Josephine Budge; 
Florence Christofferson; Verna Christofferson; Verna Mayhew; Oles Rhees; Sarah Johns; 
Lettie Berrett; Amelia Dickamore; Edna Bailey; Mary Walton; Olive Larsen stake visit- 
ing teacher message leader; Hazel Kirk. 

Third row, standing, left to right: Elizabeth Harris; Jennice Barker; Elberta 
Critchlow; Ruth Jones; Grace Williams; Elizabeth Rhees; Lucille Tams; Mildred 
Cragun, First Counselor, Ben Lomond Stake Relief Society; Eleanor T. Nielsen, Presi- 
dent, Ben Lomond Stake Rehef Society; Mildred Cottle, Second Counselor, Ben Lo- 
mond Stake Relief Society; Minnie Roylance, Secretary, Ben Lomond Stake Relief 

Photograph submitted by Joan W. Coombs 


LIAHONA COLLEGE, December 1953 

The Singing Mothers are seen grouped in the background, and in the front row 
are four members of the cast of a play given by the Relief Society. The girls are 
dressed as nurses, and the play was centered around the life of Florence Nightingale. 
Both the chorus and the girls dressed as nurses are from the Vavau District. The wom- 
an standing seventh from the right in the back row is Salote Wolfgramm, President of 
Vavau District Relief Society. 

Joan W. Coombs, President, Tongan Mission Relief Society, reports that the 
dedication of the college was an outstanding event in the history of this mission: 
"There were around 1,000 people to the dedication, including the Queen of Tonga, 
and many of the highly respected Tongan nobihty .... Mata'aho, Princess and wife 
of the Crown Prince, Tungi, opened the bazaar, and then it was opened to the general 
public, who . . . bought every article in the house in less than an hour .... The 
evening of the bazaar our Relief Societies presented a lovely concert and a group of 
plays from each district." 



-"^ V*T^ -M^' 

Photograph submitted by lone J. Simpson 



Standing, back row, left to right: Second Counselor Vcrla Hickman; Eirst Coun- 
selor Bessie Dawson; President ReVon II. Porter. 

lone J. Simpson, President, South Idaho Ealls Stake Relief Society, reports: "This 
ward is composed of very young mothers. Always the children outnumber the mothers. 
The ward was organized in January 1952, with thirty-one Relief Socictv members. To- 
day, the a\erage attendance is over fifty. This photograph was taken at a regular the- 
ology meeting, with fifty-six mothers and sixty-four children present. This group also 
has an outstanding Singing Mothers chorus. They have appeared on television, have 
presented a half-hour program once each month over radio station KID, as well as sing- 
ing for many ward activities. Typical of their name. Singing Mothers, the twenty- 
seven original members boast a total of eighty-eight children." 

Photograph submitted by Alice Alldredge 


Standing, center front, wearing dotted white tunic: Alice Alldredge, President, 
Moapa Stake Relief Society; Amy Wells, stake theology leader, next, at right; Hcrmese 
Thiess, stake music director, extreme right. 

Standing, second row, back of Sister Alldredge and to the right, Glenna Waite, 
President, Logandale Ward Relief Society. 



Standing, next to the back row, and first at left: Thelma Adams, President, Las 
Vegas Sixth Ward Rehef Society; twelfth from the left, in the same row, Winnie 
Prince, President Henderson Second Ward Relief Society. 

Standing, sixth from left, in the back row, Ann L. Jones, President, Henderson 
First Ward Relief Society. 

The picture was taken at a recent annual con\cntion and luncheon honoring the 
visiting teachers of the stake. During the convention an inspirational testimony meeting 
was held, with oxer two hundred in attendance. 

Photograph submitted by Madge P. Fowler 



December 4th and December 5th, 1953 

Front row, seated: eighth from the left, LaVir Millard, director; tenth from the 
left, Macie Evans, organist; insert, at left, Helen Wright, pianist. 

Madge P. Fowler, President, Pasadena Stake Relief Society, reports that these 
Singing Mothers practiced once a week for a whole year before giving these concerts. 
"Four months before the concerts were to be given. Sister \\ right moved away, but 
she dro\e one hundred and fifty miles once a week to practice with the group and 
played for them both nights the concert was gi\en. The organ was used with four 
numbers .... We are ver\- proud of this fine group as the concerts were some of the 
loveliest ever presented in the stake." 

C/or viyood Violets 

Ethel Jacobson 

Purple is for regal things — for iris tall. 

For massed bougainxillea on a marble wall, 

For a king's raiment, a sleek pigeon's breast, • 

And peaks of lofty mountains where cloud crowns rest. 

Purple is for petals stitched among the leaves 
On a forest altar beneath the oak's wide eaves. 
For love-shadowed eyes, and for dusk's folded wings; 
The violet's robes are for blessed things. 






Beside Still Waters— Hamblen 20 

Bless This House— Brahe 16 

If Christ Came Back— O'Hara 20 

In His Steps-Wilson 20 

I Walked Today Where Jesus 
Walked-O'Hara 22 

I Will Exalt Thee, O Lord— Harris 15 

O Lord Most Holy— Franck 16 

Oh, May I Know the Lord 

As Friend— Madsen 


O Saviour of the World— Goss-Ray 15 

Seek Ye the Lord— Roberts 15 


— A4us/c Sent on Approval — 

Use this advertisement as your order blank 

45-47 South Main 
Salt Lake City 1, Utah 

Please send the music indicated above. 

n On Approval D Charge 

n Money Enclosed 



City & State 




atines ^ 




Three 1954 Conducted 



Sails from Los Angeles May 24 


Leaves Salt Lake City July 21 


Leaves Salt Lake City August 6 
The HISTORIC TRAIN includes: 

Places of Interest in Church History, 
the Pageant at the Hill Cumoroh, and 
many large eastern cities. 

For complete details write or phone: 


966 E. So. Temple— Telephone 4-2017 
Salt Lake City, Utah 

yOnghi uiour 

Grace Sayre 

Down in my garden I see a rose 

Burst into radiance 

As the wind blows; 

When I do not see, 

Only the flower 

Breathes the fulfillment 

Of its bright hour. 

Yet all the fragrance 

Of honeyed bowers 

Is held where the wind passed 

Over the flowers. 

Down in my garden 

I watch the rose 

Perfect its beauty 

As the day grows. 

cJne (cylden ^X)a^s 
ana the i Lew 

CnmiUa Alexander 

The world is getting funny 

Since folks have got so wise; 

They used to sell eggs by the dozen, 

Now they sell them by the size; 

They used to sell fruit by the peck, 

Now you buy it by the pound. 

If you have a dollar in your purse. 

You can't make it go around. 

I guess next they'll sell molasses 

By the yard or by the lick 

Ihe way the world is going now^ 

It's surely changing quick. 

And they're all so modernistic 

You can't do this or that 

One will say "Why that's illegal" 

Or, Don't do that or you'll get fat" 

Then, whate\er people want today 

They always seem to get, 

And by the easy-payment plan 

They're never out of debt. 

In days gone by, when I was young, 

The husband's wages kept the house. 

Today the husband works the same — 

So does his loving spouse. 

But in those days, when husbands came 

From office or from store, 

With a nice clean gingham apron on. 

His wife would meet him at the door — 

"You're tired, Jim, but never mind, 

Your supper's at its best. 

Come in and put your slippers on 

And then sit down and rest." 

Now when husband comes 

From office or from store 

Worn and weary, tired out. 

Hungry and footsore. 

His wife will say, "What ails you, Jim, 

You look so glum and blue? 

All tired out? Well, don't forget 

That I am tired, too. 

So go and sha\e and change your clothes 

And give your shoes a shine. 

We're not eating supper home tonight — 

We're going out to dine." 

No wonder that next morning 

They're sick and almost dead; 

W^ith all their \\ork and ^^'0^^y 

They don't seem to get ahead. 

Oh, these modern days. 

And oh, these times of style! 

Gi\c nic the good old-fashioned days 

When li\'ing was worthwhile. 

The Pride of 
Your Library! 

Your Relief Society Magazines when hand- 
somely bound into permanent yearly volumes 
acquire new value as excellent reference books. 


$2.50 (Cloth Binding) 

$3.50 (Leather Binding) 

Per Volume 

If necessary to mail them to you, the follow- 
ing postage rates will apply. 
Distance from 
Salt Lake City, Utah Rate 

Up to 150 miles 25 

150 to 300 miles 28 

300 to 600 miles 34 

600 to 1000 miles 42 

1000 to 1400 miles 51 

1400 to 1800 miles 60 

Over 1800 miles 69 

Leave them at our conveniently located uptown 

Deseret News Press 

31 Richards St. Salt Lake City, Utah ^^^ 

Phone 4-2581 ft^ 


does so much, 
costs so little. 



Page 343 

Qjrom I tear and dfc 

Singing Mothers 

There the faithful Singing Mothers 
Raise their tender, lovely \oices 
Sing their gentle songs with gladness, 
Cheer our hearts with their sweet musie. 
— Vida E. Manning 

Singing in Relief Society Meeting 

I'll say my thoughts as I stand to sing, 
And hope that my Hea\'enly Father hears 
'I'he words in my heart I eannot say, 
And know that I'm glad I eame today. 

— Zina V. Mnniott 

These poems were eontributed in a 
poetry writing projeet inspired by ap- 
preeiation for the poetry in The Relief 
Society Magazine and the literature les- 
sons, and sponsored by the Garland 
(Utah) Second Ward Relief Society. Ten 
women participated in the contest, all of 
them contributing inspirational poems on 
Relief Society work and home and family 

Yesterday the carrier left a copy of 
your Magazine, addressed to Mrs. Marie 
E. Leflang. I bought my home from the 
Leflangs in March. Apparently a change 
of address was not sent you, although 
this is the first copy of the Magazine left 
here. Between mails I took the liberty 
of reading several articles. And I was 
overwhelmed with some of the articles, 
especially "The Literature of England" — 
lesson 34 — Alfred Lord Tennyson, Rep- 
resentative Victorian." I suppose it was 
a mere coincidence that this beautiful 
lesson (by Briant S. Jacobs) should come 
into my hands just at the time I was 
studying the English poets and their in- 
fluence on American culture and litera- 
ture. The program of the Church and 
its auxiliaries has reached such proportions 
that my few words of encouragement seem 
like a still, small voice indeed, but allow 
me to humbly express them and wish \'ou 
joy and success in the work of the Lord. 
— Sam J. Black 

Mesa, Arizona 


I am now eighty-six years old and have 
taken The Relief Society Magazine, with 
the exception of two years, ever since it 
has been published, and have always en- 
joyed it. One time when I was a little 
girl, and we lived in Salt Lake City, I was 
asked to gi\e a poem in Primary. I didn't 
know we were going to have visitors. 
When Sisters Eliza R. Snow and Zina D. 
Young eame in, I became a little nervous, 
and when they called on me first, all I 
could think of was the ladies sitting at 
my back. I gave the first part of the 
poem, and forgot the rest of it. I was 
going to sit down when Sister Snow put 
her arms around me and said, "Don't sit 
down, little girl, I am sure you know it. 
Just stand and think a minute." So I did. 
and recited the poem clear through. This 
advice helped me all through life to be 
able to stand and think a minute, as I 
have been a teacher in Mutual, Sunday 
School, and literature class leader and 
counselor in Relief Society. This is part 
of that poem I still remember: 

Open the door for the children, 

Tenderly gather them in — 

In from the highways and hedges. 

In from the places of sin. 

Some are so young and so helpless, 

Some are so hungry and cold. 

Open the door for the children 

And gather them into the fold. 

— Mrs. Minnie Champnevs Nye 

Logan, Utah 

I just recei\'ed The Rehef Society Mag- 
azine for January and February, and I am 
certainly going to enjoy reading them. 
There is much in each Magazine that will 
help me in one way or another in my 
missionary work. 

— Clara Borgeson 

The Hague, Holland 

The Magazine is loxely. No one could 
deny that. The lessons are grand, the 
stories sweet and good and true; the ser- 
mons full of faith and good works. Even 
the statistics nearly burst out of the cover 
with pride. 

— Pearline I. Alley 
Laketown, Utah 

Page 344 

in Church Literature 




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Included in this book are: Formation of the Earth, by Orson 
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President Joseph F. Smith ; Organized Intelligence, by John A. 
Widtsoe ; an<l many other outstanding discourses and writings. 



Mark E. Petersen 

With rare insight and precise directness. Elder Petersen discusses 
the problems of modern living and the sought-aftei* solutions to 
these problems in the vital strength and truths of Mormonism. 
Collected from his stirring Deseret News editorials. $3.00 


44 East South Temple, Salt Lake City, Utah 


Enclosed you will find ( ) check ( ) mone^ order ( ) charge 

to my account in the amount of $ for the 

following encircled books: 

12 3 4 



Zone State.. 

Residents of Utah- include 2% soles tax. 



2i Paid 

PERMIT No. 690 

Today is your future 

''Teaching" can be fun . . . even if the pupils 
are dolls, teddy bears, and toy clowns . . . 
and who learns more about the subject 
than the teacher? 

Your little girl (or boy) may or may not 
want to become a teacher . . . but what- 
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David O. McKay, Pres. 


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-«, . . , 





\*^- "^ .Il!dli 

•^ *iii.^ 

VOL. 41 NO 6 

Lesson P reviews 




Monthly Publication of the Relief Society of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints 

Belle S. Spafford ------ President 

Marianne C. Sharp - - - . . first Counselor 

Velma N. Simonsen ----- Second Counselor 

Margaret C. Pickering ----- Secretary-Treasurer 

Mary G. ludd Evon W. Peterson Christine H. Robinson Charlotte A. Larsen 

Anna B. Hart Leone O. Jacobs Alberta H. Christensen Edith P. Backman 

Edith S. Elliott Mary ]. Wilson Mildred B. Eyring Winniefred S. 

Florence J. Madsen Louise W. Madsen Helen W. Anderson Manwaring 

Leone G. Layton Aleine M. Young Gladys S. Boyer Elna P. Haymond 

Blanche B. Stoddard Josie B. Bay 


Editor ----------- Marianne C. Sharp 

Associate Editor -- -_.--. Vesta P. Crawford 

General Manager --------- Belle S. Spafford 

Vol. 41 JUNE 1954 NO. 6 


In Gratitude for Father Alice L. Wilkinson 348 

Elder George Q. Morris Fills Vacancy in Quorum of the Twelve Alma Sonne 352 

Elder Sterling W. Sill Appointed Assistant to the Council of the Twelve David L. McKay 354 

Contest Announcements — 1954 357 

Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest 357 

ReUef Society Short Story Contest 358 

Equation for Better Poetry — Inspiration, Plus Maryhale Woolsey 360 

Writing Is Work Claire W. Noall 364 

First Ladies of Our Land — Wives of the Presidents — Part IV •. Elsie C. Carroll 374 

When Viewed From a Distance Nora Yaros 412 


The Falling Shackles — Chapter 1 Margery S. Stewart 369 

Something Blue Sylvia Probst Young 386 


Sixty Years Ago 380 

Woman's Sphere Ramona W. Cannon 381 

Editorial: The 124th Annual Church Conference Marianne C. Sharp 382 

Notes to the Field: Summer Work Meetings 384 

Music for Special Program, Sunday, November 7, 1954 384 

Brigham Young University Leadership Week 384 

Tribute to the Singing Mothers _ _ David O. McKay 385 

Errata: ' 'Magazine honor Roll" 393 

Safe Method of Freezing Corn 393 

Notes FroTi the Field: Relief Society Activities Margaret C. Pickering ?°'S 

From Near and Far 415 


Hulda Peterson, Homemaker and Musician 391 

A Different Kind of Bridal Shower Helen S. Williams 392 

Housecleaning Nostalgia Vernessa M. Nagle 394 

The Scratching Post Elizabeth Williamson 414 


Teaching Aids for the 1954-55 Lessons Edith S. Elliott 400 

Theology — Characters and Teachings of The Book of Mormon Leland H. Monson 403 

Visiting Teacher Messages — Book of Mormon Gems of Truth Leone O. Jacobs 405 

Work Meeting — S-election, Care, and Use of Household Equipment Rhea H. Gardner 406 

Literature — The Literature of England Briant S. Jacobs 408 

Social Science — The Constitution of the United States Albert R. Bowen 410 


First Love — Frontispiece Lael W. Hill 347 

"We Thank Thee, O God," by Marjorie Foote, 351; My Faith, by Jean D. Wright, 356; Summer 
Sorcery, by Ouida Johns Pedersen, 359; No Barriers, by Lavinia M. Wood, 359; To a Yellow Rose, 
by Gene Romolo, 359; Her Wish Fulfilled, by Elsie McKinnon Strachan, 363; June, by Norma 
Wrathall, 368; Navajo Cradle Song, by Alice Morrey Bailey, 379; An Appreciation to Florence 
Jepperson Madsen, by Vida F. Swenson, 385; Rain Song, by Verda Mackay, 391; Neighbors, by 
Vilate R. McAllister, 393; Pilgrimage, by Ida Isaacson, 394; Pasture Lot, by Grace Barker Wilson, 
399; Mirror Lake, by Vesta N. Lukei, 409; Daisies, by Christie Lund Coles, 412. 


Editorial and Business Offices: 40 North Main, Salt Lake City 1, Utah, Phone 4-2511; Sub- 
scriptions 246; Editorial Dept. 245. Subscription Price: $1.50 a year; foreign, $2.00 a year; 
payable in advance. Single copy, 15c. The Magazine is not sent after subscription expires. No 
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Entered as second-class matter February 18, 1914, at the Post Office, Salt Lake City, Utah, under 
the Act of March 3, 1879. Acceptance for mailing at special rate of postage provided for in 
section 1103, Act of October 8, 1917, authorized June 29, 1918. Manuscripts will not be returned 
unless return postage is enclosed. Rejected manuscripts will be retained for six months only. 
The Magazine is not responsible for unsolicited manuscripts. 

Salt Lake City, Utah 

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CJirst JLove 
Lad W. Hill 

Very little girls, piquant as elves. 
Already woman-hearted, 
Love their mothers as themselves; 
But every little girl— every wide-eyed one- 
Owns a special world 
Where her daddy shines like sun. 

He is morning-wonderful and hero-high. 
Voice deep-warm as earth in June— 
But his smile is sky. 

His arms are willow wise; safe in their holding 
A little girl finds leaf-bright summer 
And love's enfolding. 

The Cover: Lake in Echo Park, Los Angeles, California 
Photograph by Ward Linton 

Frontispiece: The Winding Connecticut River, Near Hartford 
Photograph by Ewing Galloway 

Cover Design by Evan Jensen 

In Gratitude for Father 

Alice L. Wilkinson 

THERE liave been many bcauti- 
tiful and appropriate tributes 
written to motherhood. Count- 
less men and women throughout the 
world have given to their mothers 
the eredit for their measure of suc- 
cess and accomplishments. It is 
fitting and right that they should do 
so, for mothers have an unusual 
opportunity and power in shaping 
the lives of their children. No one 
would deny that a mother's love 
seems to be the most perfect, and 
the most sincere, the strongest of 
any love we know anything about. 

But I am happy for this oppor- 
tunity to write a tribute to father- 
hood, because of the influence of 
two fathers upon my life, my own 
father's and that of my husband's 
father, and because of the many 
fine examples of fatherhood I have 
seen and about which I have read. 

Because fathers play the sterner 
role in our society, and the daily 
vocations in life take them away 
from home so that they may not 
have the opportunity to get as close 
to the hearts of their children as 
mothers, we are prone to overlook 
the sentimental feelings, the tender 
love and affections that all good 
fathers have for their families. 
Father is often taken more or less 
as a matter of course. He is a ne- 
cessity, he provides the food, cloth- 
ing, and shelter. Often he is more 
to be feared than lo\ed. Too often 
the realization does not come until 
too late that fathers yearn for an 
expression of appreciation and 

Page 348 

At the first devotional assembly 
of the new year. Elder Harold B. 
Lee addressed the students of the 
Brigham Young University and he 
related the following story. 

A young woman had been sum- 
moned home to visit her dying 
father. On the train, alone with her 
thoughts, she unfolded for the hun- 
dredth time a telegram that read 
simply, ''Father critically ill. Come 
at once. Mother." All through the 
journey she prayed that the Lord 
would keep him alive until she 
could arrive and see him again. 
There came over her, now that he 
was in danger of being taken, a great 
desire that she could roll back the 
years and see him' again as she had 
seen him in her childhood. When 
she arrived home, he was still alive 
but in a coma, and a few hours later 
he slipped quietly away. 

She was assigned by the family 
to the task of going through his 
personal papers and taking care of 
what the family called the ''unfin- 
ished business." 

She went carefully to her task to 
make sure that there was nothing 
that he wished to have done that 
would be left undone. As she 
searched in an inside pocket of his 
coat, she came upon a crumpled bit 
of paper which showed the effects 
of having been removed and read, 
and folded and unfolded many 
times. This crumpled piece of pa- 
per was a message from a voung girl 
whom her father had befriended, 
and this letter was a letter of appre- 
ciation to this great, noble father. 



He had seemingly clung to the 
message which this letter conveyed 
as something of a satisfaction that 
he hadn't received from his own 
daughter. The little girl had poured 
out her heart in gratitude that he 
had come at a crisis in her life, and 
she openly expressed her love for 
his thoughtfulness and kindness to 
her and his consideration. 

The daughter laid down the pa- 
per and wept because she realized 
that she had failed to give her father 
what another had given and the 
thing for which he had longed so 
much. ''Unfinished business/' but, 
unfortunately, the kind of business 
that she was not permitted to finish. 

There are many notable instances 
where the teachings, the philosophy, 
the cultural environment, and exem- 
plary living of fathers have ac- 
counted, to a large degree, for the 
success of their sons. Robert Brown- 
ing's life and poetry might have 
been entirely different had his father 
not been able to provide for him a 
rich intellectual environment. From 
his father he inherited his delight 
in recondite historical lore which 
was nourished by the fabulous 
Browning library of 6,000 books 
amassed by his father. His child- 
hood was a happy one, due in large 
measure, to the approval and com- 
panionship with his father. 

The eldest son of Lafcadio Hearn, 
whose artistic and picturesque writ- 
ings earned for him the reputation 
of being the greatest interpreter of 
Japan to the Western World, writes 
of his father: 

Father was of sensitive nature, easily 
moved but very firm in other respects. 
He showed his warm, tender feelings, not 
only toward his own family, but toward 
the grass by the wayside and insects. He 

hated those who plagued the weak, or 
led hves of hypocrites. Crookedness of 
any sort he would never overlook. Wick- 
edness, cowardice — these he detested. 

This same spirit of hating to see inno- 
cent things tormented increased as he grew 
older. In appearance he was like the 
spring ocean — serene — but one could not 
have imagined that within that soul existed 
such a firm strong rock as no great wave 
or whirlpool could move. Money or rank 
could not buy his straight mind. 

President Heber J. Grant, who 
never knew his father, he having 
passed away when President Grant 
was but a babe nine days old, relates 
that many blessings came to him 
because of the honesty and integrity 
of his father, Jedediah M. Grant. 
When, as a young man, he needed 
financial help in some of his busi- 
ness affairs, he found ready assist- 
ance from those who had known 
and had confidence in his father. 

''It filled my heart with gratitude 
to God for having given to me such 
a father," said President Grant. 
"The incidents I learned about my 
father impressed me with a strong 
desire to so live and labor that my 
children would be benefited, even 
after I have passed away from this 
life, by the record which I shall 
have made.'' 

lyiY own dear father occupies a 
very special place in my recol- 
lections. He was tall, straight, and 
handsome, with an abundance of 
wavy black hair. Today that hair is 
a silvery white but seems no less 
abundant. Because of his friendly 
nature he was a favorite with all 
the children in the neigborhood. 
Long before he appeared in our 
driveway with his team and wagon 
after a long day's labor on the farm, 
we could hear his cheery whistle, 



and, likely as not on his arrival, 
there would scramble out of his 
wagon a half dozen neighbor chil- 
dren whom he had picked up along 
the way because they had wanted 
to ride with him. 

He was the possessor of an ex- 
cellent bass voice and for manv vears 
sang in our ward choir. At home 
when we children would start to 
sing, he would join us with his deep 
*'pom-pom" harmony. I remember 
when I was a Bee Hive Girl, I felt 
very proud when he was asked to 
direct our Bee Hive chorus, which 
was competing in a stake music 
contest. We won second place. He 
also played the big bass horn in our 
community band. Many, many 
miles he has marched in patriotic 
parades in our own and surrounding 

He believed that ''idleness is the 
devil's workshop," and he would not 
condone laziness in any of his chil- 
dren. His nature was gentle but 
firm; and he commanded the re- 
spect, love, and obedience of his 
family through his own adherence 
to high principles of honesty and 

He loved nature and all living 
creatures. I have heard him say 
many times, 'There is nothing 
more beautiful to me than a freshly 
turned furrow." At one time an 
orphaned pet lamb which he had 
raised almost from birth had to be 
relieved of its suffering due to an 
illness. Father had to ask someone 
else to do the task. "How can I 
take its life," he asked, "when it has 
eaten out of my hands, plucked the 
fresh hay leaves from my jacket, and 
nuzzled its nose against my shoul- 

The gospel and its teachings 
meant much to him. He had a 
great faith and believed implicitly 
in the spiritual assistance that comes 
through prayer. During the terrible 
influenza epidemic of 1917, as a 
member of the ward bishopric, he 
entered dozens of stricken homes, 
administering to the sick and giving 
encouragement and assistance to the 
bereaved families. The Lord was 
surely with him and blessed him 
with the physical stamina to with- 
stand the virulence of that disease. 

Today, in his seventy-fifth year, 
he, still works a full day, doing one 
of the things he has loved most, 
tending the flowers and shrubs of 
a public garden. He has a keen 
sense of community pride. His po- 
sition is one without high-sounding 
title, but he performs it with metic- 
ulous care, as though it were the 
most important job to be done. His 
beautiful home flower and vegetable 
garden is a source of admiration for 
his neighbors and many friends. 

The homely virtues, sincerity, 
humility, friendliness, and a simple 
faith are the source of his strength. 
I am grateful for his life and the 
exemplary way he has lived. 

Another, for whose association I 
am grateful, is my husband's father, 
who has become a part of our fam- 
ily circle in his declining years. 
Learning to know him through in- 
timate family living has been a good 
experience for my children. To be 
ever mindful of one whose tempo 
of living has been diminished, to 
accept his little eccentricities with 
good humor, and to indulge in some 
affectionate pampering have been a 
good lesson in discipline and toler- 
ance for all of us. Grandpa, as 
everyone calls him, and my youngest 



son have been good pals. They play 
childish games together. Grandpa 
is patient, sometimes indulgent, and 
greatly amused with the boy's antics, 
while the youngster feels a perfect 
sense of security in his presence. 
The bond between the very young 
and the aged is close and beau- 

tiful to see. He is now approaching 
his eighty-ninth birthday. We 
honor him for his industry and his 
length of years which we are trying 
to make comfortable and happy. 
The opportunity to express, in daily 
living, love and devotion to a father 
is a blessed privilege. 

Vl/e oJhank ofhee, (D Qod . . . 

Mar/orie Foote 

I turned the web-thin pages; time lapped back 
And I was there with Noah and his sons, 
Seeing the hope-rich rainbow span the sky 
And spill its splendor in each pond and pool 
That lingered in the valley round our hill. 
I shared the joy that Moses felt when he 
Beheld the bush ablaze with holy fire; 
With him I climbed to Sinai's rugged peak 
And plunged to depths of sorrow when he came 
To see the chosen ones in dance profane. 
Then, with Elijah, stern and stalwart seer, 
I shared a meal that ravens thither bore; 
And Cherith's waters, soothing, soft and sweet 
Gave peace of soul to combat Baal's priests, 
And strike a blow to establish Lrael's Lord. 

When Peter loved the Lord my heart rejoiced. 

And I loved Peter for his sterling worth. 

He overcame his human frailties; 

He walked upon the waters of the \\orld, 

And smote the ear from sin and selfish creeds. 

Oh, colorful has been this old earth's tale 

With names that spell high courage, hope, and faith. 

God's messengers dispatched throughout the world 

To light — relight — the gospel's pure white flame. 

Oh, Paul and James, Moroni, Nephi, too. 

Then Joseph, Brigham, John of latter days. 

From out the pages steps another seer. 

I saw him with my eyes; he shook my hand 

Oh, I will cherish this through all my years. 

(Written in honor of President David O. McKay during his visit to Scotland in 
August 1953) 

Elder George Q. Morris Fills 
Vacancy in Quorum of the Twelve 

Eider Alma Sonne 
Assistant to the Council of the Twelve 

FEW men have come to their 
responsibilities better fitted 
and qualified for the high call- 
mg of an apostle than does Elder 
George O. Morris. Elder Morris is 
a product of the Church. He was 
born February 20, 1874, in Salt Lake 
Gity, Utah. His entire life has been 
one of unselfish service. His well- 
founded convictions, his long ex- 
perience in Church work, his devo- 
tion to the truth, his knowledge of 
the restored gospel, his genial per- 
sonality, and his friendly and benign 
spirit furnish a strong background 
for his ministry as a special witness 
of Jesus Christ. 

Elder Morris has covered a wide 
field as a Church leader. His religi- 
ous work began as a young man 
when he accepted a call to the Brit- 
ish Mission, where, for three years, 
he laid the foundation for the 
numerous activities to which he 
has gi\'en notable service. He gave 
his heart to the program of the 
Church in accepting one responsi- 
bilitv after another as the calls came. 
Worldlv ambitions and material 
benefits were not permitted to stand 
in the wav of the accomplishments 
for which he is now recognized. 
The Y M M I A gave him his op- 
portunity to inspire and guide the 
younger generation, first as stake 
superintendent and later as general 
superintendent of this great organ- 
ization. Under his leadership the 

Page 352 


vouth's program grew and de\'cl- 
oped until it attained world-wide 
recognition. He proved to be an 
executive of unusual power and abil- 
ity. As a member of a bishopric, 
and later as a bishop, he demon- 
strated his practical leadership and 
won the love and confidence of the 
people o\'er whom he presided. He 
is a member of the National Coun- 
cil of Bov Scouts of America and 
an honorary life member of the 
American Trails Association, New 
York City. 



During his presidency of the East- 
ern States Mission from September 
21, 1948, to October 6, 1952, he was 
sustained as an Assistant to the 
Quorum of the Twehe Apostles be- 
ing set apart on October 24, 1951, 
in New York City, by President 
David O. McKay. In this calhng he 
visited the stakes and the missions, 
contributing to the work, encourag- 
ing and blessing the workers, making 
timely suggestions, and meeting dif- 
ficult situations in a calm, deliber- 
ate, and effective manner. Wise in 
counsel and sound in judgment, he 
is always a leader and a thinker in 
the councils of his brethren. 

Elder Morris is the president and 
general manager of Elias Morris and 
Sons, a pioneer institution estab- 
lished by his father. He has been 
prominently associated with this 
monument and tile firm for many 
years, demonstrating his leadership 
in the world of business. He is also 
a member of the board of directors 
of the Prudential Savings and Loan 
Association. In civic affairs he has 
been similarly active and prominent, 
devoting his time and energy to 
community betterment. Organiza- 
tions like the Community Chest, 
Travelers' Aid Society, Sons of the 
Utah Pioneers, Salt Lake City 
Chamber of Commerce, and the 
Utah Trails Association have had 
the benefit of his vision and experi- 
ence. Positions of trust and respon- 
sibility in the various avenues of 
service to his fellow men have broad- 
ened his views and increased his 
capabilities in the great cause to 
which he has been so faithful and 

In 1905 Elder Morris was married 
to Emma Ramsey, talented and 

well-known musician and singer. 
She is the daughter of Major George 
W. and Amanda Ross Ramsey and 
was born in Bridgeport, Illinois, and 
came with her parents to Payson, 
Utah. Much credit for her phe- 
nomenal rise in the musical world 
must go to her father, a gifted sing- 
er, violinist, and flute player. He 
was the leader of his regimental 
band during the Civil War. His 
daughter received her first music 
lessons from him. She was a pop- 
ular student at the Brigham Young 
University where she won contests 
in theme writing, public speaking, 
and singing. 

Sister Morris attained prominence 
as the winner of the vocal prize at 
the National Eistoddfod held in the 
Salt Lake Tabernacle. The adjudica- 
tor was the famous Dr. Parry who 
came from Wales for the occasion. 
This was probably the beginning of 
her musical career. Successful in her 
studies in Berlin, Germany, under 
renowned teachers like Madame 
Klara Klatte and Blanche Corelli, 
she went to Paris, France, where she 
studied for several years with Josef 
Archinband. Her achievements 
brought her to the front in the 
musical circles of Europe and 
America. President Theodore Roose- 
velt named her ''Utah's Nightin- 

Elder and Sister Morris are the 
parents of three daughters: Miss 
Marion Morris, Mrs. Edward A. 
Woods, Jr., of New York, and Mrs. 
R. T. Stewart of Los Angeles. The 
family has always lived close to the 
Church, giving freely of time and 
talent for the promotion of God's 
work at home and abroad. 

Elder Sterling W. Sill Appointed 

Assistant to the 

Council of the Twelve 

Elder David L. McKay 

First Assistant Superintendent, Deseret Sunday School Union Board 

ON April 8, 1954, ^" *^^^ ^^^* 
Lake Teniplc, Elder Sterling 
W. Sill was set apart as an 
Assistant to the Quorum of Twelve. 
When he was called to address the 
conference in the Tabernacle after 
having been sustained in his new 
position, he expressed a philosophy 
which has guided much of his life: 
'The creation of man is still going 
on, and in a sense, each of us is a 

In his busy life, Elder Sill has di- 
rected his energies to this creation 
—the influencing of others to good. 
He was bishop of the Garden Park 
Ward," Bonneville Stake, for ten 
years. Under his direction one of 
the most beautiful chapels in Salt 
Lake City was dedicated within one 
year from the laying of the corner- 
stone. Though a comparative new- 
comer in the ward, he was its first 
bishop, and exercised a remarkable 
influence. Members who had been 
inactive for years became enthus- 
iastic workers, and the ward organ- 
izations began setting stake and 
Church records. 

Elder Sill was on two high coun- 
cils—one in North Davis Stake and 
the other in Bonneville Stake. As 
chairman of the High Council 
Aaronic Priesthood Committee, he 
directed the activity of those Priest- 
hood quorums, helping them be- 

Page 354 


come more and more active as he 
combined his salesmanship tech- 
niques with his love of boys. Under 
his direction his stake reached the 
top ten stakes in the Church in 
Aaronic Priesthood work. 

In October of 1952, Elder Sill was 
named a member of the Sunday 
School General Board. One of his 
assignments in the board was chair- 
man of the committee to revise the 
Sunday School Handbook. He at- 



tacked the problems with his usual 
vivacity. He distributed chapters to 
chairmen of committees in charge 
of particular subjects, and then de- 
voted weeks to assembling and or- 
ganizing their suggestions. He then 
mimeographed the revision at his 
own expense, distributed the copies 
to the general board, collected them, 
and noted the board members' criti- 
cisms on his master copy, working 
from that point with his committee 
toward the finished product. 

His suggestions to the administra- 
tion leadership committee of the 
general board have been welcome 
and worthwhile. The board will 
miss his cheerful and helpful as- 

POLDER Sill is a fluent speaker, as 
is evidenced by his recent series 
of talks on the Sunday Evening 
Hour over KSL Radio Station. At 
one time he concluded that if every 
person prepared a talk for each sac- 
rament meeting as if he were to be 
the speaker, he would be benefited 
as much as the speaker. With Ster- 
ling Sill, conclusion is action. So 
for the next year he prepared a talk 
for each Sunday night, whether or 
not he was asked to deliver it. Then 
he mimeographed the collection 
and gave it to his appreciative 

It is not onlv in the religious field 
that Elder Sill pledged himself to 
the service of others. His influence 
as a member of the Board of Re- 
gents of the University of Utah 
from 1940 to 1951 will be remem- 
bered for a long time. He was 
chairman of this board for the last 
four years. While chairman he de- 
plored the lack of housing facilities 
for the domestic science depart- 

ment. Here was need for action, so 
Sterling Sill acted. His term ended 
before sufficient funds were raised 
for the new center, so he devoted 
hours, days, and weeks in personal 
contact, getting subscriptions from 
his friends and acquaintances. As 
a result, the Sterling W. Sill Family 
Life Center was recently dedicated, 
so named by grateful board mem- 
bers, faculty, and students. It is a 
beautiful home for girls studying 
homemaking and a lasting memorial 
to Elder Sill's energetic devotion to 
helping others. 

In the business field Elder Sill 
has been Salt Lake City manager 
for the New York Life Insurance 
Company for the past twenty-seven 
years, and inspector of companies' 
agencies in nine western states since 
1941. He was the first Utahn to 
address the National Association of 
Life Underwriters and the first 
Utahn to receive the degree of 
Certified Life Underwriter. The fol- 
lowing year he became president of 
the Utah State Association of Life 

Sterling is the son of Joseph A. 
and Marcella Welling Sill of Lay- 
ton, Utah. He was fifty-one years old 
last March 31. On September 4, 
1929, Sterling Sill and Doris May 
Thornley were married. They have 
three children— John Michael, nine- 
teen, David Sterling, fifteen, and 
Mary Carolyn, nine. His wife 
is an accomplished musician. She 
has been effective in working for the 
Utah Symphony. She is a member 
of the ward choir and is active in 
Relief Society. Her loyal support at 
all times at her husband's side has 
been a great force in his achieve- 

Sterling's friends know that he, 



too, is loyal to a supreme degree- 
loyal to them particularly when he 
is needed. He will do all he can 
for a cause he believes to be just. 

A leader has been chosen to join 
a group of leaders. He will be a 
great influence in creating charac- 


In front, left to right: Mary Carolyn; Elder Sill; Doris Thornlcy Sill. 
at the back, left to right: David Sterling; John Michael. 


///|/ QJaith 

Jean D. Wright 

Sometimes my faith is a shining thing, 
Gleaming and bright as the noonday snn. 
And sometimes my faith is soft and warm 
Like the darkness when day is done. 

Bnt always my faith is a crutch to me — 
A broad shoulder to lean upon, 
A fire by night and a cloud by day. 
To guide me as I go on. 

Contest Announcements — 1954 

THE Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest and the Relief Society Short Story 
Contest are conducted annually by the general board of Relief So- 
ciety to stimulate creative writing among Latter-day Saint women 
and to encourage high standards of work. Latter-day Saint women who 
qualify under the rules of the respective contests are invited to enter their 
work in either or both contests. 

The general board would be pleased to receive entries from the out- 
lying stakes and missions of the Church as well as from those in and near 
Utah. Since the two contests are entirely separate, requiring different writ- 
ing skills, the winning of an award in one of them in no way precludes 
winning in the other. It is suggested that authors who plan to enter the 
contests study carefully the articles on creative writing which appear in this 
Magazine, and also similar articles in the June issues for 1947, ^94^' ^949? 
1950, 1951, 1952, and 1953. 

ibliza LK. Snow [Poem (contest 

npHE Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest 
opens with this announcement 
and closes September 15, 1954- 
Prizes will be awarded as follows: 

First prize $25 

Second prize $20 

Third prize $15 

Prize poems will be published in 
the January 1955 issue of The Ke- 
liei Society Magazine (the birth 
month of Eliza R. Snow). 

Prize-winning poems become the 
property of the Relief Society gen- 
eral board and may not be pub- 
lished by others except upon writ- 
ten permission from the general 
board. The general board reserves 
the right to publish any of the other 
poems submitted, paying for them 
at the time of publication at the 
regular Magazine rates. 

Rules for the contest: 

1. This contest is open to all Latter-day 
Saint women, exclusive of members of the 
Relief Society general board, and em- 
ployees of the Relief Society general board. 

2. Only one poem may be submitted by 
each contestant. 

3. The poem must not exceed fifty 
lines and should be typewritten, if pos- 
sible; where this cannot be done, it 
should be legibly written. Only one side 
of the paper is to be used. (A duplicate 
copy of the poem should be retained by 
contestant to insure against loss.) 

4. The sheet on which the poem is 
written is to be without signature or other 
identifying marks. 

5. No explanatory material or picture 
is to accompany the poem. 

6. Each poem is to be accompanied by 
a stamped envelope on which is written 
the contestant's name and address. Nom 
de plumes are not to be used. 

7. A signed statement is to accompany 
the poem submitted, certifying: 

a. That the author is a member of The 
Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day 

b. That the poem (state the title) is 
the contestant's original work. 

c. That it has never been published. 

d. That it is not in the hands of an 
editor or other person with a view 
to pubhcation. 

e. That it will not be published nor 

Page 357 



submitted elsewhere for publication 
until the contest is decided. 

8. A writer who has received the first 
prize for two consecutive years must wait 
two years before she is again eligible to 
enter the contest. 

9. The judges shall consist of one mem- 
ber of the general board, one person from 
the English department of an educational 
institution, and one person who is a 
recognized writer. In case of complete dis- 
agreement among judges all poems select- 
ed for a place by the various judges will be 
submitted to a specially selected commit- 
tee for final decision. 

In evaluating the poems, consideration 
will be given to the following points: 

a. Message or theme 

b. Form and pattern 
e. Rhythm and meter 

d. Accomplishment of the purpose of 
the poem 

e. Climax 

10. Entries must be postmarked not 
later than September 15, 1954. 

11. All entries are to be addressed to 
Relief Society Eliza R. Snow Poem Con- 
test, 40 North Main, Salt Lake City 1, 

uielief Societii Short Story (contest 

npHE Relief Society Short Story 
Contest for 1954 opens with 
this annonncement and closes Sep- 
tember 15, 1954. 

The prizes this year will be as 

First prize $50 

Second prize $40 

Third prize $30 

The three prize-winning stories 
will be published consecutively in 
the first three issues of The Reliei 
Society Magazine for 1955. Prize- 
winning stories become the property 
of the Relief Society general board 
and may not be published by others 
except upon written permission 
from the general board. The general 
board reserves the right to publish 
any of the other stories entered in 
the contest, paying for them at the 
time of publication at the regular 
Magazine rates. 

Rules for the contest: 

1. This contest is open to Latter-day 
Saint women — exclusive of members of 
the Relief Society general board and em- 
ployees of the general board — who have 

had at least one literary composition pub- 
lished or accepted for publication. 

2. Only one story may be submitted by 
each contestant. 

3. The story must not exceed 3,000 
words in length and must be typewritten. 
(A duplicate copy of the story should be 
retained by contestants to insure against 

4. The contestant's name is not to ap- 
pear anywhere on the manuscript, but a 
stamped envelope on which is written 
the contestant's name and address is to be 
enclosed with the story. Nom de plumes 
are not to be used. 

5. A signed statement is to accompany 
the story submitted certifying: 

a. That the author is a member of The 
Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day 

b. That the author has had at least one 
literary composition published or ac- 
cepted for publication. (This state- 
ment must give name and date of 
publication in which the contest- 
ant's work has appeared, or, if not 
yet published, evidence of accept- 
ance for publication.) 

C. That the story submitted (state the 
title and number of words) is the 
contestant's original work. 

d. That it has never been published, 
that it is not in the hands of an 
editor or other person with a \iew 
to publication, and that it will not 



be published nor submitted else- 
where for publication until the con- 
test is decided. 

6. No explanatory material or picture is 
to accompany the story. 

7. A writer who has received the first 
prize for two consecutive years must wait 
for two years before she is again eligible 
to enter the contest. 

8. The judges shall consist of one mem- 
ber of the general board, one person from 
the English department of an educational 
institution, and one person who is a rec- 
ognized writer. In case of complete dis- 
agreement among the judges, all stories se- 

lected for a place by the various judges 
will be submitted to a specially selected 
committee for final decision. 

In evaluating the stories, consideration 
will l^e given to the following points: 

a. Characters and their presentation 

b. Plot development 

c. Message of the story 

d. Writing style 

9. Entries must be postmarked not 
later than September 15, 1954. 

10. All entries are to be addressed to 
Relief Society Short Story Contest, 40 
North Main, Salt Lake City, 1, Utah. 



ummer oorcery 

Ouida Johns Pedeisen 

I will not yield to Junetime's subtle spell . . . 

I know her necromancy far too well 

To walk her scented fields through moon-washed nights, 

Or linger where she spreads her warm delights 

On summer porches (pools of friendly shade 

And cool, sweet sounds of ice in lemonade). 

One less aware might, all unwitting, drift 

Past trellised roses where bright petals sift 

To snare the senses, or, unknowing, fall 

Victim to a night bird's summer call 

And waken, heart bewitched, to find June gone 

Across the threshold of July's white dawn. 

lio ioarru 


Lavinia M. Wood 

I planted a rosebush near the line 

That divided my neighbor's yard from mine. 

It grew and thrived and never knew 

Mine were the roses that on her side grew. 

My neighbor has a fine grapevine, 

That strays from her lot into mine. 

So we can never claim as ours 

The beauty of love, good will, or flowers. 

No vine or flower will draw the line, 

Between my neighbor's yard and mine. 

c/o a L/e/iow uiose 

Gene Komolo 

Oh, gift of splendored bloom, 
Whence came your loveliness? 
All roses arc born beautiful, 
But in your yellow dress 
Of satiny-soft texture 
You are the loveliest. 

Nature must have gathered 
Gold strands strewn by the sun 
And with a deft, aesthetic hand 
Your petaled fragrance spun. 

Equation for Better Poetry — 
Inspiration, Plus 

Maryhale WooJscy* 


T must be wonderful to be 
able just to sit down and 
write a beautiful poem," 
someone says to me every so often, 
probably adding, ''you are fortunate, 
being gifted to receive such inspira- 

Remarks such as these are usually 
made at times and places wholly un- 
suited for replying with the truth. 
So I smile a thank you for the 
compliment intended, and let it 

Actually, only once in thirty-odd 
years and unrecorded reams of writ- 
ing, does a successful and effective 
poem result from ''just letting it re- 
main as it came to me." 

A poem can "come" spontaneous- 
ly in a satisfactory form, but rarely 
does. Personal experiences and 
emotions are not unique; they have 
universahty, and are "worth writing 
about." But these experiences must 
be perfected through patient work 
and long experimentation. 

However, the "test of time" with- 
out fairly regular effort would hard- 
ly be recommended as regular prac- 
tice in poetry writing. For, through 
long storage, a work might lose any 
quality of timeliness it may original- 
ly have had; and in rewriting at a 
much later date, it might also lose 
the element of spontaneity. It is 

better to complete each poem to 
one's present satisfaction and go on 
to new projects, accepting today's 
dissatisfaction with last year's output 
as an indication of progress, of 
growth in ability. 

Students of poetry frequently ask, 
"Is this idea worth writing about?" 
I'he answer is usually in the affirm- 
ative—but with a proviso: If you 
can do it well. And this may be 
measured by how much you wish to 
write it— how strongly you feel it. 
This matter of feeling, of emotion, 
seems to be very important. In fact, 
emotion seems to be one parent of 
"inspiration," and the other may be 
intellect- the mysterious inner pro- 
cesses of one's mind, turning an idea 
around and over, studying it until 
it becomes an urge, until it is ready 
to be expressed. We can speed this 
process somewhat by conscious 
thinking and study; but when— and 
only when— the inner, subconscious 
absorption is complete, inspiration 

Incidentally, some poetry study 
groups use "assigned" subjects reg- 
ularly as a workshop exercise. The 
delightful, and often astonishing va- 
riety of verses resulting, proves over 
and over that the idea is not the 
different, the original element, 
but that the development of the 

*MaryhaJe Woohey, author of ''Springtime in the Rockies," and many other lyrics 
and poems, as well as stories and articles, is well known to readers of The Relief Society 
Magazine and is widely recognized as a gifted lyricist. 

Page 360 



idea is. A really new idea is almost 
non-existent, except as related to 
new discoveries or inventions. 

The degree of simplicity of ex- 
pression, is not always agreed upon 
by poets. Many writers believe that 
every poem should make use of 
some uncommon words. Some poets 
pride themselves in their ability to 
be inexact and inexplicable in their 
use of words. However, if simplicity 
is interpreted to mean clarity, it is 
certain that most readers would de- 
mand simplicity. The oblique poem 
of certain ''modern schools of po- 
etry" wins a small following. After 
all, the purpose of language is to 
communicate thoughts and ideas, 
not to mask them. 

This is a matter, however, in 
which each poet must make his 
choice and stand confidently and 
contentedly by it. To attempt 
writing in styles not in accord with 
one's honest instincts and prefer- 
ences, is to invite unhappiness and 
frustration. We must recognize 
that there is a place and an audi- 
ence for nearly every kind of poetry. 

One pitfall for today's beginning 
writers, is a misconception regard- 
ing ''free" (unrhymed) verse. Such 
poetry, if effective, is not easier to 
write than lines with rhyme and 
meter. A poet's measure of success 
may not be in his choice of poetic 
form, but in how well he communi- 
cates his thoughts; and wholesome- 
ness and good taste may outlive and 
eventually outrank the so-called 
realism which depresses and troubles 
us. Beauty is as real as ugliness, 
light as real as darkness; and man- 
kind's journey, viewed in perspec- 
tive, is unmistakably upward. It is 
no error to ''sing" in tune. 

But having chosen our direction, 
having captured our inspiration in 
first draft, we must accept the neces- 
sity for lewiiting, revising. A poet 
who says, "But I felt I was inspired 
in this, and I wouldn't think of 
changing a word of it!" ... or per- 
haps, "but my friends like it this 
way," is closing the avenues of im- 
provement for herself and deliber- 
ately narrowing her opportunities. 

"But how can I tell what to 
change?" the inexperienced poet 
queries. In other words, what can 
be added to inspiration to make a 
better poem? 

The answer is, study and work. In 
some cases it is almost as simple 
as it sounds; in others, it can be- 
come very complicated indeed. But 
by the time we reach this stage, the 
potentialities of words, of language, 
are likely to have us so fascinated 
that we shall love struggling with 

"DEGINNING writers everywhere 
seem to make certain similar er- 
rors. The same faults appear in 
practically all work of untrained 
poets. Some errors are so notice- 
able that they should be tabulated 
thoughtfully and eliminated by all 
who would achieve success in poetry 

Since "how not to" helps us learn 
"how to,'' a brief discussion of some 
of these points may prove helpful to 
aspiring poets. 

By far the most common fault 
lies in the selection of overworked 
subjects. It is natural to wish to 
write about "mother" and "spring" 
and "pioneers" and "autumn glory," 
but we must seek out something 
new to say about them; new ap- 



proaches and interpretations. Poems 
re-extolling in general the courage 
and hardiness and virtue of pioneers 
might be rejected bv the contest 
judges, but, for example, one which 
was a "portrait" of one pioneer wom- 
an might receive an award. So might 
one which revealed a pioneer farm- 
er's moment of homesickness for an 
old home. This is what is meant 
bv fresh and different technique. 

Frequentlv encountered are execs 
sivelv long poems. Too often, these 
wander and wobble! A long poem 
must be \erv careful Iv worked out 
if it is to be good all the way 
through. The more lines, the great- 
er peril of falling into triteness, repe- 
tition, careless rhvmes— and of get- 
ting off the subject altogether! 

Next comes hck of clarity. Long, 
complicated sentences, with the sub- 
jects and their verbs separated by 
welters of modifying adjectives and 
adverbs and phrases, often awkward- 
ly in\ erted, may end by telling noth- 
ing clearly. A word totally unsuited 
to the subject matter is often used 
for the obvious purpose of supply- 
ing a rhyme— and for no other rea- 

The use of poeticisms and con- 
tractions, such as "ne'er," "o'er," 
'"neath," and "ere," today, is simplv 
not allowable, and so unnecessarv! 

Most of these faults vou can dis- 
cover and correct for voursclf. You 
can detect the "limping" meter 
(with experience, vou will gain a 
feel for the permissible break 
in meter— which is not a break in 
rhvthm!). You can determine 
whether the words vou have chosen 
say what you really intended to say; 
and in the case of figures of speech 
(various comparisons), you can as- 

sure \ourself that you are not falling 
into the mixed metaphor (inappro- 
priate comparisons)— one of the sad- 
dest of poetic tragedies. 

A friend once asked for my ap- 
praisal of these lines: 

'I lie bird of time is ebbing fast away; 
Crumpling in bitter fragments of the day. 

She was hurt when I pointed out 
some of the faults in the lines. It 
required referral to a dictionary to 
con\'ince her that birds do not 
"ebb," that "crumpling" does not 
produce fragments, and that her 
bird, somehow, in the process of 
"crumpling," was changed from a 
bird to a day/ But when we 
changed the lines to something like 

"i'be bird of time is soaring fast away; 
I grasp at crumbling fragments of tlie 
day .... 

she admitted it did "seem to make 
more sense." 

Tyl/ORi) cxann'natioi] is a must for 
c\'ery poet who takes any pride 
in her work. rTa\'e ^ou e\'er tried 
going through a brief poem and tak- 
ing cverv word to the dicti()nar\? 
You ma\' be in for some surprises- 
even with words vou thought were 
thoroughlv familiar to vou. Again, 
take the important words — nouns, 
\'crbs, adjectives, ad\'erbs— to a good 
thesaurus, and be astonished at the 
ones you find which add color, in- 
terest, strength, and clearness far be- 
vond the effecti\eness of the words 
which "just come" to you. 

The mixed metaphor and the in- 
exact word may be your greatest 
obstacles to successful writing— of 



poetry or of anything you write. 
They may ehide you so easily— but 
they need not, for study will surely 
find them out, and work can elimi- 
nate them. And if you don't elimi- 
nate them from your poems, your 
poems are going to be eliminated by 
those of other poets who have ap- 
plied careful criticism and revision 
to their "hispirations." 

Never, please, never, think that 
this study and work may take the 
joy out of creative writing. That 
joy increases with knowing you have 
created better poetry, made better 
use of your tools— the words of our 
wonderful language. You will be 
happier, knowing that your readers 
will gain keener enjoyment from 
what you ha\e written. 

Poetry has a practical application, 
for both poets and readers of poetry: 
developing appreciation. Apprecia- 
tion of the beauty, the \\'onclers in 
our world; appreciation of our 
language which makes it possible to 

speak and to write of these. And 
appreciation is a highly desirable 
qualitv in a personality; like mercy, 
it "blesses him who gives and him 
who takes" (the poet who interprets 
and the reader who understands). 
With such a mission to fulfill, a 
poet's very best is worth striving for. 
Let us then be deeply grateful for 
inspiration, and add to it the best 
craftsmanship of which we are cap- 
able. "Inspiration, plus study and 
work"— this is our equation for writ- 
ing better poetry. 

References for Writers of Poetry 

Caine, Meeville: Making a Poem: 
An Inqniry Into the Creative Process, liar 
court. Brace & Co., New York, $2.95. 

CoBLENTZ, Stanton A.: An Editor 
Looks at Poetry, The Wings Press, Mill 
Valley, California, $2. 

IIiLLYER, Robert: First Principles of 
Verse, The Writer, Inc., Boston, $2. 

Montgomery, Vaida Stewart: Verse 
Technique - Simplified, The Kaleidograph 
Press, 624 North Vernon Avenue, 
Dallas 8, Texas, $1. 

cfier Vl/isn cfulfilled 

Elsie AIcKinnon Strnchan 

Each dawn she wakes to dress and go alone 

Past empty rooms and down the quiet stair. 

Till in that kitchen, silent as a stone, 

She slowly sets a single morning fare. 

Where once her stove knew kettles large and small. 

Where meals left cupboards bare of every dish, 

Where talk and laughter rolled from wall to wall. 

She sits in idleness; recalls the wish — 

The wish that followed her from room to room 

As needs for children followed her to bed, 

The wish for time to think, time to resume 

Those carefree hours where paths of youth had led. 

She tastes her breakfast now, the clock's slow pace 

Reminding her, time does not always race. 

Writing Is Work 

ChiTc \V. NoalV 

THE study of life, together 
witli tlie insight an author 
l)rings to l)ear upon it, gives 
him an idea of what to write about. 
Fascinating pictures of people strug- 
gling to meet situations abound 
everywhere. Yet, though situations 
for stories are as plentiful as leaves 
on a tree, ideas for them are never 
cheap. No story will have so much 
as the form of a leaf until an author 
has toiled over it and poured some- 
thing of himself into it. When an 
idea has gone through the creative 
process, taking shape within one, it 
may come out so different from 
what it was to begin with that the 
creator himself may hardly recognize 
it. For fiction is not fact. 

Stories emerge from the raw ma- 
terial of life only at the cost of 
heart's blood. Once you, as an 
aspiring writer, ha\'e pondered an 
idea, or if you have grasped one in 
a flash, and have recognized an ar- 
resting conflict, what are you going 
to do with it? How will you shape 
this conflict — which is essential to 
every story? All stories involve two 
forces in opposition to each other. 
Opposition exists everywhere and 
in exerything. A bird can't fly with- 
out the rush of air against its wings. 
But flight comes to the bird after a 
comparatively brief practice period. 
Writing stories mav take years of 
apprenticeship before you can leaxc 
an impression upon your reader that 

will add to his enjoyment of life or 
his insight into it. 

And win do you write if not to 
show how imaginative power can 
function upon raw material to leave 
with your reader a vivid and desired 
effect? Why try to write if you do 
not wish to offer some purely in- 
dividual consideration of life? In it 
the reflection may be immense 
though the facet is small. 

How can we shape so much in so 
little — a picture of deep, of coura- 
geous, of steadfast emotion, per- 
haps, in the small space of a few 
pages of writing? That is no small 
task. I'o accomplish it you must 
achieve your art form. How are 
you going to create anything of ar- 
tistic worth? Face your job. 

If you intend to write, write. 
Write every day of your life. 
Though you may be busy with chil- 
dren and Church work, though you 
can use only one hour a day to be- 
gin with, write at the same time 
every day. The regular hour, the 
regular time to do your work is one 
of the first essentials in becoming 
skilled. The mind then prepares 
itself at that high point to function 
freely. Thoughts come, words flow, 
spontaneity may occasionally arise. 

The muse will not seek you. She 
may bless you; but usually she de- 
fies you. She simply opens a door 
to a silent room, a hard chair, and 
the dim light in which stories find 

Chire W. Noall has written fiction and many articles, including features published 
in tlic Church magazines and in I he Utah Mngir/Aue, Utah State Histoiical Ouarterlv, 
and the Western Ihunauities Review. 

Page 364 



their deepest being. It is up to you 
to bring your characters out of the 
dark into the Hght. Bring them out 
walking on their own two feet. Let 
them face their conflicts, let them 
solve them. The author must nexer 
appear to be doing so. 

Nor can anyone tell you how to 
do this, neither muse nor adviser in 
the flesh. But if you ha\e talent, 
and if you have the desire that gives 
you no rest until you develop your 
talent, you can learn to write stories. 
You can master vour technique. 
Begin both by studying and wTiting. 
If you don't try to write you won't 
understand what books and people 
are trying to tell you about method 
and procedure. 

ATTEND writers conferences, if 
you ha\e the opportunity, listen 
to established writers of fiction, 
study books and articles on tech- 
nique. Never cease to read good 
fiction. Read the recognized master- 
pieces. But remember that only 
you can teach yourself to express 
your own indi\'idual talent. If your 
talent is not individual it is not 
worth the effort of development. 
Therefore, write, write every day. 

In one story you should have but 
one idea which concerns but one 
central character in one central sit- 
uation. The situation invohes a 
struggle, or a problem. Either at 
the beginning of your eflfort on a 
storv, or by the time vou ha\'e fin- 
ished it, you must be able to state 
your central idea in a single declara- 
tive sentence. 

The completed story should re- 
veal the focal point of the struggle. 
This may be unsohable, but if so, 
it should lead the reader to think 
and live for a while with the prob- 

lem that the fictional character has 
been led to face. We should now 
see beyond the story into the ave- 
nues of life open to him or her. The 
solution does not necessarily have 
to be packaged and tied \m\\\ a neat 
bow. Life is not like that. Still 
the story must be focused upon its 
ine\'itable conclusion. 

The reader should also be affected 
by this conclusion. This effect 
should be produced through the 
action and through the change in 
understanding achie\'ed by the cen- 
tral character. The character him- 
self must go through this process of 
change. lie must be different at 
the end of the story from what he 
was at the beginning. And thus 
the reader should find himself in 
a different mood from the one in 
which he started to read. 

The main goal in writing the 
storv is to create this change in 
the character. In order to do this 
you, as author, must know all the 
characters in the story. Without 
this knowledge you cannot produce 
the effect that you arc trying to cre- 
ate. To accomplish the change re- 
ferred to, vou must know how the 
characters think, speak, and react. 
You must listen to their heartbeats. 
In the storv everything that you 
yourself think and feel on the sub- 
ject should remain out of sight. It 
is the reactions of your characters to 
their situations that count. Yet with- 
out reader reaction the count is of 
no value. 

The reader, too, must know these 
people. Can he hear them speak? 
Can he feel their sense of touch? 
Can he breathe the bright blue at- 
mosphere of the frozen north on a 
sunny day that you describe? Or can 
he feel enervated by the red drouth 



of desert sand dunes when the heat 
rises in visible rings? Gi\e us what 
you choose, but gi\'e us both place 
and action in terms of concrete de- 

Induce the feeling for what is to 
occur by including the kind of de- 
tail that pertains to the setting, the 
action, and the theme of your story. 
As far as possible, make every de- 
scription, every event used support 
the theme and suggest the character- 
istic traits of the central figure. 
Make these dramatic details also 
suggest the type of action in which 
the main character is to be involved. 
Let them further the unseen ele- 
ments of the piece, as well as the 
seen. Under the circumstances, it 
seems plain that if attention is 
called to the ringing of a bell, for 
example, that bell rings for some 
special purpose. 

T TSE the exact word, the exact 
gesture, the exact suggestion. 
You have no space for anything ex- 
traneous. You need all the room 
the story provides for its develop- 
ment. Though the form of the 
story is closely molded, the setting 
is essential. Begin with it. Tell us 
at once where the action takes place, 
and when. I'akc enough space to do 
this through rich and suggestive de- 
tail, not through plain statement of 
fact. Make the detail pertinent to 
what is to come. And make it serve 
to bring your surroundings alive. 

The character himself should help 
to do this. He should already be 
in action. Let us see his face and 
figure. Let us feel his clothing — 
calico, silk, or homespun. Present 
the fabric in terms of what it is to 
mean. If your desired effect is an 

affirmation of life, let us sense this 
final effect at the beginning through 
the realities of the person, the place, 
and the time. 

As you lead up from the begin- 
ning to the single concluding effect 
of your story, remember that no 
sentence should ever say more than 
one thing. No paragraph should 
develop more than one idea. Bring 
each sentence to its own conclusion. 
Let the last sentence of the para- 
graph bring its group of sentences 
to their larger and more important 
conclusion, until at the end of a 
section or natural division of your 
story, you have attained a definite 
effect. But do not stop with that ef- 
fect. These climactic sentences must 
also lead to the transition that you 
are about to make to a new develop- 
ment. As you establish one idea, 
you must progress to another. The 
last sentence of a paragraph or a 
division should lead to the next; or 
it should provide the opportunity 
for the opening sentence of the next 
paragraph to serve as that bridge. 
The action, or the forward move- 
ment, must at all times be sustained. 
At the end of a developed sec- 
tion, a double space may indicate 
a lapse of time. 

Dialogue should be broken into 
brief passages. Seldom, if ever, let 
one person speak more than three 
sentences at a time. Never let a 
speech come from the air. Ground 
your people. Register the effect of 
the dialogue on the person spoken 
to. Bring both speaker and listener 
to life through relevant gesture, ex- 
pression, and reaction. Thus the 
reader will also see and hear both 
speaker and listener. Persuade the 
reader to lose himself in his sym- 



pathy for the problem that the 
characters face. 

TN deciding how to handle your 

material nothing is of more im- 
portance than your choice of view- 
point character. Who is to be your 
main character? Who is to be act- 
ed upon to end up as the changed 
character? Will his story be told 
in the third person or will he him- 
self relate it? Only by weighing 
your material thoroughly can these 
questions be determined. The de- 
cision should be preceded by the as- 
similative process that goes on in 
the deeper realm of consciousness. 
This realm is where the creative 
process of composing a story from 
the raw materials of life does its 

How to make the creative process 
function is another matter for study 
and practice. Briefly, it can be said 
that the process runs through a 
course of interchanging impressions. 
You have your idea for a story; but 
simply to record this discovery as 
such, no matter how dramatic or 
exciting, is not creating anything in 
the way of new insights into life. 

For, though you have taken your 
idea from life, in order to give it 
back as a story, you must transmute 
the substance. To accomplish this, 
yield your materials up to your sub- 
conscious mind. Bury them there 
that they may yield their essence up 
to you. Submit your will to theirs. 
Let them have their way with you 
that you may create from them the 
story that will eventually emerge 
through the power of both levels 
of your mind, the conscious and the 

Let your characters come forth 
from the depths of your being. But 

before you release them as partic- 
ipants in a story, make them into 
as full-bodied personalities as the 
space limits of the story will allow. 
Feed your conscious mind with 
knowledge of the situation with 
which you expect to deal, with 
knowledge of your characters, with 
practiced skill in techniques so that 
the subconscious mind will give you 
a rich return. Let it give you suf- 
ficient means to balance the con- 
scious control which in the last 
analysis of your work you will have 
to exert. 

As a reminder of the deeper level, 
think twice of what William Butler 
Yeats says in his preface to the King 
of the Great Clock Tower: 

God guard me from those thoughts men 

In the mind alone, 
He that sings a lasting song 
Thinks in a marrow bone. 

(Used by permission from The King 
of the Great Clock Tower, Commentaries, 
and Poems, Lhe Maemillan Company, 
copyright 1935.) 

And so listen to the secret drum- 
beat of the lives of your characters, 
that in turn you may beat that drum 
to give us the rhythm as you capture 
it in word and mood. Give us a 
small piece of life that may yet re- 
flect a wide stage upon which the 
reader himself may stem for one 
small moment to live and move. 

References for Study 

Gordon, Carolyn and Tate, Allen: 
The House of Fiction, Charles Scribner's 
Sons, New York, 1950. $5.50. 

Brooks, Cleanth, Jr., and Warren, 
Robert Penn: Understanding Fiction, 
F. S. Crofts, New York, 1944, $1.75. 

Ghiselin, Brewster: The Creative 
Process, a Symposium, University of Cali- 
fornia Press, Berkeley, 1952, $6. 

Don Knitrht 


Norma Wrathal? 

There is a time, hctw ccn spring's fickle fn\'or, 
And summer's long hot hours of toil and care, 
When fairy skies seem curxcd in blue enchantment. 
And perfume lingers in the warm, sweet air; 
When roses \\Teathc the earth with fragrant treasure, 
And butterflies flit through the long, bright day 
As if their happiness were everlasting, 
And sonic ecstatic spell might make time staj'; 
WHicn cNcry morning wakes the world to gladness-— 
And CNcry night renews love's \outhful dream. 
Oh, June, hold back your gifts, like petals falling. 
To make our sad days fairer than they seem! 

Page 368 

The Falling Shackles 

Margery S. Stewart 
Chapter i 


HEN the conductor came 
tlnough the train calhng 
"Salt Lake City . . . ten 
minutes," Maria Tobler felt she 
could not endure the tension an- 
other moment. It had been mount- 
ing for days and weeks and months 
and years. Ever since the first prison 
gate had closed behind her and 
Mamma and Karen, this moment 
had been in her dreams and waking 
moments like a tormcntinglv far, 
beautiful star. It had been the bur- 
den of all her prayers and all the 
fierce longing of her seventeen 
years. Now it had come. One more 
gate through which to pass and the 
land would be hers. 

She looked across the aisle to 
Papa's white face and saw the strain 
was in him, too, tightening his 
mouth to a fine line, bringing his 
brows down over his gray eyes, 
making his long fingers clasp and 
unclasp on the arm rest. Papa had 
been years long in a worse prison 
camp than any of them. I'here 
were times still when Maria 
wakened to his endless, nervous 
pacing. But here . . . here, deep 
in the heart of this beautiful land, 
it would pass. 

Maria looked from Papa to 
Mamma's strong, dark face. Mamma 
was looking at her, smiling and 
nodding. *'Is good," Mamma's lips 
formed. ''Is very good." 

Beside Maria, Karen twittered 
and jumped. "I can't bear it," 
Karen whispered, her hands crossed 
on her thin breast. '1 won't live 

until we get there. Just feel my 
heart, Maria. Isn't it zipping? I 
shall die and I am only fifteen years 
old, die before I have a chance to 
be happy." 

Maria laughed. Karen was always 
so dramatic about everything. Maria 
could almost see the visions Karen 
was conjuring up in her mind, her 
prostrate form, the startled passen- 
gers, the tragic procession that 
would bear the beautiful, young girl 
to her last resting place. 

"You know Papa said you are 
strong as a horse," Maria said. "It 
was the third American hot dog you 
ate last night that made you sick." 

Karen subsided furiously, "Meanie! 
You wait until you get a symptom." 

Maria put her arm around her 
younger sister. "When I get a job 
I will buy you a s\\'eater, like the one 
the blonde girl was wearing yester- 
day. I will buy you a little string 
of pearls, and you shall go to high 
school and be one of them. Think 
of It." 

"I can see myself," Karen mur- 

She closed her eyes, and Maria 
rose to take down the last bag, 
smilingly aware that her sister was 
deep in another daydream. But, 
arms in mid-air, she was arrested by 
the furious screams of her small 
brother. Maria turned. Karen 

Phillip, in his father's arms, was 
protesting the end of the journey 
by kicks and screams. "You prom- 
ised me Indians!" he was shouting. 

Page 369 



^'Indmns \ou promised me ... I 
ha\c not seen one, not c\cn a baby 
one, not even a mother Indian. I 
won't get off ... I won't!" 

'T^IIE other passengers roared with 
langliter. Maria tnrned piuV 
with embarrassment. I Tow were 
iliev to know there wonldn't be 
Indians at every stop. In tlie few 
Ameriean movies they had seen, the 
land seemed to be filled with them, 
brightly painted, misehief bonnd, 
hnrtling themsehes down from 
roeky hills. 

''No," said Papa. 'Ton must be 
still. . . ." 

Phillip redoubled his protests 
until Mamma put out one large 
firm arm, brought him in one 
sweeping gesture to her ample lap, 
and sileneed him with a look. Peaee 

"We shall find Indians," said 
Mamma, "but first we have other 
things to do." She turned and 
peered through the window as the 
train slowed to a stop. "Do you see 
him, Maria? Do you see Cousin 

Maria and Karen searehed from 
their window. "How will we know, 

Mamma sighed. "I forget. He 
was only a boy when he left for 
Ameriea ... is long time." 

The passengers disembarked. Ma- 
ria picked up one of the bags, 
pointed to the other, and Karen 
reluetanth followed her example. 
They trudged heavily on the heels 
of the sehool teacher from Chicago. 

When it seemed impossible that 
she would e\'er lea\e the train, Ma- 
ria found herself being helped down 
the high steps, breathing the damp, 
smoky spring air. The night had 

come and she regretted it, since 
now she could not see the city until 
morning. Beside her Karen jumped 
up and down. "Maria, Maria . . . 
we're here!" 

Papa and Mamma descended 
wit-h more dignity but just as eager- 
ly. Only Phillip, forlorn as only a 
fi\'e-\ ear-old can be, bewailed still 
the lack of Indians. 

A man hurried toward them. 
"Christopher Tobler?" 

"Cousin Frederick!" cried Mam- 
ma. "I should have known you 

Maria blinked. Cousin Frederick 
was paunchy and bald and wore 
thick, horned-rimmed glasses. Mam- 
ma had talked long and happily 
of a curly haired youth, so slim he 
had been the worry of his family. 

"You should ha\e come yester- 
da\- with the others," Cousin Fred- 
crick mourned. "Yesterday was 
bands, was new^spapermen, was the 
mayor even, but today . . . nothing." 

Mannna sighed. "It was Karen. 
She was sick, and w.e had to stop- 
over . . . the others came without 


Cousin Frederick was still un- 
happy. "No sense of timing. Yes- 
terday everyone was interested in 
the arri\al of refugees. Today," he 
snapped his fingers, "they are for- 
gotten. Today there is a new head- 


[AMMA laughed. 'AVe do not 
need a mayor, or a headline. 
W^e arc here, that is enough for us." 

But Maria crept close to her 
Mother's ample side. It was plain 
that in coming late they had 
offended Cousin Frederiek and 
were at once out of step with im- 
portant happenings. 



'Tonight/' said Cousin Freder- 
ick and mopped his forehead, ''to- 
night, my Hilda is having her baby, 
and I must rush you to your house 
and rush back to the hospital. 
Come, come, I will help you with 
your bags." 

''Oh, Frederick," cried Mamma 
pushing Maria before her, "you 
should not have come. You should 
have sent someone. Hurry, hurry, 
Karen. Come, Phillip. No, Papa, 
let Karen carry the bag, it will not 
hurt her." 

Maria hurried with the others 
through the great gates, up the 
ramp, through the station, and out 
into the night again. 1lie bag was 
heavy. She found herself gasping 
for breath. Phillip kept getting in 
front of her, so that she stumbled 
on him with every step. 

They hurried the bags into the 
back of Cousin Frederick's car. 
Thev hurried inside the car, and 
even the automobile seemed to 
catch their nervousness and hurry 
itself along the wide, bright streets. 

Maria flattened her face against 
the window, trying to keep the pic- 
tures from sliding by so quickly, the 
beautiful stores, the lights, the 
many, many cars ... a girl in a red 
coat who smiled at her at an inter- 
section, a group of tall young men 
in blue sweaters striding down the 
street. But she could not keep the 
pictures in her mind; they tumbled 
into oblivion, pushed away by 
smaller streets, houses, a glimpse of 
a family around a dining-room 
table. Maria marveled at the un- 
curtained window. Her mind fled 
back to the years of shuttered win- 
dows, of hushed ^/oices, the dread- 
ful waiting for the booted foot upon 
the stair, the pounding fist. It was 

obvious that no such terror lived in 
these wide streets. 

Karen's hand was making blue 
ridges on her arm. "Maria! Just 
look at the houses! We shall have 
one just as beautiful. I will stand 
at the gate . . . like that girl . . . 
sec. Oh, we went past her too fast." 

"I saw her," said Maria dryly, 
"and the young man. I suppose you 
will have one of those, too, swinging 
on the front gate?" 


AREN pointed. "Oh, you! I 
won't be as hopeless as you when 
I'm seventeen. I'm not going to be 
old-seventeen like you. I'm going 
to be like the ones on the train, 
laughing and singing and swirhng 
their ruffled petticoats." 

"Old seventeen?" Maria sat back, 
one hand on her throat. Dismay 
shook her. She hadn't thought 
about herself until now. It hadn't 
seemed important. It hadn't been 
important at all beside those years 
of horror and of flight, of the armies 
before them and behind them, and 
the hidden terror of the enemies 
among them, tracking them down 
for the crime of being "unsympa- 
thetic to the cause." All her child- 
hood a nightmare of ner mother's 
tears and the stealthy whisperings 
of phantom feet pursuing them, as 
loud to Maria's childish ears as the 
scream of bombs and the bursting 
of buildings. Old seventeen. She 
thought of her friend Mathilda, 
who would never walk again; of 
Jennie, blind. What did it matter 
what kind of seventeen she was? 
She was here in America, safe with 
Mamma and Papa, with gay, reck- 
less Karen, whom she had shielded 
so fiercely, wath little Phillip, who 



was too young to understand any 
of it. It was enough. 

*'Oh," cried Karen in despair. 
"Look at the street. I might have 
known!" She shnnped against the 

Maria sat up. They had turned 
into a narrow street, where the 
houses were either flush with the 
sidewalk or had pocket handker- 
chiefs of lawn. 

''I might have known/' moaned 
Karen again. 

''It isn't much of a street/' said 
Frederick apologetically, ''but rents 
are very high, and not knowing 
whether or not the plant would suit 
you, Chris, I thought it better to 
go a little slow." 

"You did exactly right," said 
Papa. "You have done so much 
for us already. Now we do for our- 

"We are strong," said Mamma. 
"We can manage." 

"Mr. Henderson said to bring 
you down in the morning, Chris. 
The job isn't much for you who 
have been a doctor most of your 
life, but it was all I could get/' 

"It is fine," said Papa, "fine. It 
is the law here that a doctor from 
a foreign land must go to school 
again before he can practice med- 
icine here. Is fine. We keep the 
law." He laughed. "Think of the 
people I save by changing my life- 

"No sir," said Cousin Frederick, 
"I have heard only of the many you 
have saved by being their doctor 
... in the camps they said you were 
magnificent." He shut off the igni- 
tion and opened the door. "Well, 
this is the house." 

Maria waited until they were all 
out of the car, then she looked up. 

The house was red brick and tall, 
with an ornate front porch railing 
from which palings were lost. "But 
we can fix the porch," she said. "I 
can fix it myself." 

"No," said Mamma, "we do not 
start on the porch. We start in the 
basement, then we go to the closets 
and the drawers. To fix the outside 
first is a lie, it says we are all neat 
inside ... is not true at all. We 
begin in the center and work out 
. . . then we are right." 

Maria and Karen exchanged deep 
glances of resignation and despair. 
It was always like that. Even in 
the camps with nothing. Mamma 
had insisted on order and fought 
fiercely for what cleanliness she 
could obtain. 

"It isn't bad on the inside," said 
Cousin Frederick. 

'TpIIEY trooped after him up the 
walk and through the front door. 
It opened on a tall, narrow hallway 
with stairs leading upward to the 
second floor. On the right of the 
hall was the door that opened to a 
great, high-ceilinged living room 
with a fireplace. The furniture was 
old and battered, but comfortable. 
Karen ran ahead to open the double 
doors that led to a dining room, 
beyond which was a vast kitchen 
linoleumed in blue and white 
squares, with a gas range, blackened 
by age, in one corner. There was a 
square oil-clothed table in the cen- 
ter of the room. 

Maria looked at Mamma hesitant- 
ly. Mamma had voiced her wistful 
dreams for so manv vears, of an 
American kitchen as she had heard 
of them, gleaming with porcelain 
and chrome. How could this bat- 
tered room compare? 



Mamma's cheeks were wet with 
tears. She went over to the range 
and caressed it with heavy, gentle 
hands. ''I tried to beheve, always, 
that I should have again my own 
kitchen, my own stove. Many times 
I could not believe at all, four fami- 
lies in one small house." 

''But, Mamma," Karen protested, 
''it isn't what I dreamed about at 
all. I thought we would have a 
house like the American maga- 

Mamma patted Karen's cheek. 
"That is the human part of us to 
want everything at once, the castle, 
the big car, the famous friends, the 
safety, the jewels, the good times, 
the happiness, all in a moment of 
time. But God in his goodness 
sends some of us blessings a few at 
a time that we might enjoy each." 

Maria went to her mother and 
laid her head on her Mother's broad 
shoulder. Through all the terror 
and the violence and death, Mam- 
ma had stood like a rock, believing, 
rebuilding, planning, rejecting de- 
spair and defeat. 

"I love you. Mamma," Maria 
wanted to say, but the words 
seemed so inadequate for the tor- 
rent of emotion she felt. 

Now that Mamma liked the 
house or what she had seen of it. 
Cousin Frederick relaxed and be- 
came almost jovial. "Not knowing 
her time was today, Hilda made the 
dinner to celebrate your coming. 
It is all here." He opened the re- 
frigerator. "She had me bring it 
down. A goose yet, roasted." 

Maria stood aside so Papa, too, 
could come and admire the shining 
white depths of the refrigerator and 
the contents so temptingly dis- 

played. There was the goose, 
brown and crusty, needing only to 
be warmed up. There were a pie 
and an apple cake and sour cabbage 
and green beans. 

Cousin Frederick rubbed his 
hands. "You have only to warm 
it up. I wish I could stay." 

Mamma remembered Hilda. She 
pushed Frederick out of the room. 
"Not a moment more do you spend 
with us. Is too long already." 

There was a great silence when 
she came back to the kitchen. They 
looked at each other with wide, 
anxious eyes. The strange sounds 
of a strange place drifted in from 
outside, voices in aigument, a small 
boy calling his dog, the slamming 
of a gate. 

Maria saw Mamma's fingers tight- 
en on her throat. "Is a big country." 

Karen came close to Maria. 
"Suppose nobody likes me. Sup- 
pose they hate me?" she whispered. 

"It will be strange not to carry 
my bag," said Papa wistfully. 

I am not like their girls, Maria 
thought fearfully. I am different. 
I am an old seventeen. 

Suddenly Mamma laughed and 
clapped her hands. "Why are we 
standing; here so solemn? We have 
a feast waiting for us. Maria find 
the dishes and the silver. Karen, 
help her set the table." 

It is strange, Maria thought, how 
you can coax happiness to come to 
you, in the sound of a bubbling 
kettle, or the unfolding of a clean 
cloth, or new bread on a flowered 
plate. How many other ways are 
there? I will search for them, then 
I will be stronger than any loneli- 

(To be continued) 

First Ladles of Our Land 


Part IV 

Elsie C. Carroll 

BEFORE Ida Saxfon McKinky 
( 1 847-1 Q07), wife of the 
twenty-fifth President, (1897- 
1901), chose William McKinley 
from among her many snitors, she 
had graduated from college, had a 
trip to Europe, and had been a suc- 
cessful cashier in her father's bank. 
To their friends the McKinleys 
seemed unusually blessed with good 
fortune and 1: ^ piness. Mer father 
gave them a home for a wedding 
present; William was rapidly mak- 
ing a name in the political world; 
Ida was a leader in the social life 
of their community. 

But one loss after another of 
loved ones— her mother and two 
little daughters— caused an illness 
which left Mrs. McKinley an in- 
valid the rest of her life. She re- 
tained her charm and personality, 
however, \\hich kept her friends 
and, abo\'e all, the devotion of her 
husband. He had many speaking 
engagements, but he took her with 
him whenever possible, even though 
she could not walk except with a 
cane and the help of another person. 

During his two terms as Gover- 
nor of Ohio they li\'ed in a hotel 
near the Capitol. Each morning as 
he neared the building, he turned 
to the window of the hotel where 
she was watching and lifted his hat. 
Each afternoon at three o'clock he 
left whatever he was doing and 
went to the window of his office 
and waved a handkerchief to her as 


(1847 - 1907) 

she waited for his signal of remem- 

I'his gallantry continued when he 
became President. lie ignored some 
former customs. For instance, she 
always sat at his right at state din- 
ners, and at receptions he stood be- 
hind her chair with his hand on her 
shoulder. Her invalidism did not 
curtail the life in the White House. 
Thev entertained extensivelv. 

She went with the President to 
Buflfalo in 1901 to attend the Pan- 
American Exposition. While hold- 
ing a reception in the Temple of 
Music, tragedy came to William 
McKinley. Part of the ceremonies 
were o\'er and he had sent Ida to 

Page 374 



rest at the home of their host, when 
he was shot by an assassin. He said 
to his secretary, "My wife, be care- 
ful how you tell her." Six davs lat- 
er he died with his arm about her 
as she knelt at his bedside, whisper- 
ing ''I want to go, too." She lived 
six years after her husband's death. 

Edith Kenuit Carow Roosevelt 
(1861 - 1948) was Theodore's sec- 
ond wife. Alice Lee (whom he 
married in 1880) had died four years 
after her marriage and had left Ted- 
dy a little daughter, to be known 
later as "Princess Alice." lie mar- 
ried Edith in London in 1886 and 
brought her back to his lovely home 
at Oyster Bay, where they li\'ed hap- 
pily as one after the other of their 
five children came. 

After Roose\elt became President 
(in igoi ), the same comradeship be- 
tween the parents and the children 
continued. Both he and Edith re- 
ser\ed some time each day for 
family life. It is said that Edith 
was a mother until after breakfast, 
the family's favorite meal; then she 
walked in the garden \\'ith her hus- 
band before he went to his office; 
then did household supervising, and 
by 1:4:5 was ready to be First Lady. 

She was the first mistress of the 
Executi\'e Mansion to employ a so- 
cial secretary. To further conserve 
her time, she di\'ided the people she 
needed to entertain into groups who 
would be congenial because of their 
positions or experiences. These 
things, together with her natural 
tact and charm, made all White 
House functions delightful. 

The Roosevelts spent all his sal- 
ary on entertainment. Edith had a 
caterer under contract to ser\e all 
state dinners for eight dollars a 

plate. This relieved her of many de- 
rails for each event. * 

During this administration the 
White Llouse was enlarged to prb- 
\ide offices and guest rooms. After 
that, the mansion was' seldom with- 
out guests. 

A striking social event was the 
marriage of Princess Alice. Garden- 
ers worked for months on the deco- 
rations. A thousand guests wit- 
nessed the marriage. 

Characteristic of the ease and 
poise of the First Lady, is the story 
that she spent the morning beford" 
the noontime wedding knitting and * 
\isiting with Alice's maternal grand-- 
mother. With similar ease she made 
welcome unexpected guests her hus- 
band was in the habit of bringing 
to dinner when other guests— often 
dignitaries— were present. Both she 
and the President had the knack of 
making all their guests share happily 
in the conversation. 






(1862 - 1943) 

The Roosevelt family all enjoyed 
the White House— formal occasions 
as well as pillow-fights or races 
down the long hall. Their slogan 
was ''one for all and all for one." 
The second term of Theodore 
Roosevelt ended in 1909. 

Helen Henon Taft (1862 - 1943) 
had a keen sense of humor and a 
love of adventure. When life 
seemed dull, she made- something 
happen to liven it up. She thought 
it would be fun to have a salon like 
famous French women used to have, 
where they gathered into their par- 
lors people of wit and talent for 
good conversation. William How- 
ard Taft was invited to her salon. 
Later he intimated that she had 
other than intellectual motives for 
her gatherings. 

They were married in June 1886 
and took a trip around the world for 
their honeymoon. Settled. in Cincin- 
nati, Helen continued her varied 

activities. One was the organiza- 
tion of the Civic Orchestra. 

In 1900 Mr. Taft was sent to 
establish civil government in the 
Philippines, just ceded to the Unit- 
ed States. When they arrived in 
Japan they were informed that they 
were to have an audience the next 
day with the Emperor and Empress. 
Helen had no dress acceptable for 
such an occasion, but she found an 
Oriental seamstress who made over 
an evening gown for the ritual. Be- 
tween fittings, Helen practiced the 
low bow- prescribed by Japanese 
etiquette. She appeared at court as 
if she had spent months preparing 
for the event. 

As First Lady of the Philippines, 
she endeared herself to the natives 
by making them feel that America 
was their friendly guardian. They 
came by thousands to her weekly 
''at home," where she pleased them 
by serving little Japanese cakes her 
native cook baked for her. 

Mrs. Taft was a great aid to her 
husband in the many important po- 
sitions he held before he became 
President and was a distinctive First 
Lady during his administration 
(1909-1913). She fostered several 
significant projects. One was the 
erection of the bandstand in Poto- 
mac Park. On the opening day 
thousands thronged to hear the con- 
cert by the Marine Band. Regular 
concerts have been given there ever 
since. It was she who thought of 
having cherry trees in the park, and 
it was doubtless through her in- 
fluence that the gift of a thousand 
cherry trees came from Japan. So, 
to her, the thousands who enjov the 
Washington cherrv festival every 
spring can be grateful. William 



Howard Taft died in 
Helen died in 1943. 



EUen Axson Wilson (1860-1914) 
first wife of Woodrow Wilson, gave 
up her career as an artist when she 
married in June 1885. She felt that 
her career was to help her husband 
succeed in his, and that she did, per- 
haps more than even they realized. 
Her warm southern friendliness was 
a good balance for his rather cold, 
retiring nature. While he was a 
teacher at Bryn Mawr and later 
President of Princeton University, 
she smoothed the way for him 
through the policies and jealousies 
of faculty life. It was the same 
when he actively engaged in politi- 
cal affairs. She strove always to 
keep him fit and to provide a com- 
fortable and peaceful home life. 

In the Executive Mansion after 
he became President (in 1913), her 
chief concern continued to be for 
him. She denied herself many ex- 
periences which she would have en- 


joyed because of his needs and 
inclinations. She felt that the 
President should be a leader of the 
people, and she put all her power 
into his work. And she was ever 
at hand to encourage and help him. 

She found time to follow some 
interests of her own, however. One 
was work for underprivileged peo- 
ple. She served on the Board of 
Charities in Washington and 
worked for the passage of a tene- 
ment bill. It is said that just before 
her death she whispered that she 
would be happier if she knew the 
bill had been passed. Her husband 
got this word to Congress, and as- 
surance that this would be done 
reached her before she became un- 

One commentator said: ''Her 
work was left to her husband. She 
gave him the idealism which marked 
his career." 

Woodrow Wilson's second wife, 
Edith Boiling Gait, whom he mar- 
ried in 1915, was the daughter of 
William Holcombe Boiling, lawyer 
and judge, and Sallie White Boiling, 
both members of old, aristocratic 
Virginia families. At the time of 
her marriage to Woodrow Wilson, 
Edith Gait was a young widow suc- 
cessfully managing a jewelry busi- 
ness in Washington. A woman of 
education, beauty, and culture, she 
contributed significantly to Presi- 
dent Wilson's welfare and success. 

She stood by him during those 
trying and anxious days preliminary 
to and during the first World War. 
One biographer wrote: 'The man 
who loved peace more than any- 
thing else in the world rose at four- 
thirty in the mornings to get at the 



From the Guenthe Portrait 


work of making war/' He believed 
that he was working for the war 
that would end all wars. 

After the war, Mrs. Wilson ac- 
companied the President on two 
trips to Europe, in planning for the 
peace. On his return home, Presi- 
dent Wilson sought to win Ameri- 
can support for the League of Na- 
tions. He was ill when he started 
on a strenuous speaking tour and 
collapsed after making a speech in 
Pueblo, Colorado. 

Mrs. Wilson, with the help of 
secretaries, carried on the work of 
the President's office. She acted as 
executive secretary, advisor, nurse, 
and as an unfailing and inspiration- 
al companion. The Wilsons left the 
White House in 1921, and three 
years later Edith Gait Wilson be- 
came a widow. 

She still resides in the national 
Capital, and many sincere friends 
of former days and many officials of 

our present government are num- 
bered among those who visit in her 
home and who regard Edith Wilson 
as a woman whose mind and heart 
and whose lovely and sympathetic 
personality not only contributed 
much to the eminence of her hus- 
band, but have made of her a per- 
sonality greatly loved and admired, 
and respected for her faith in the 
destiny of America in world leader- 

Floience Kling Harding (i860 - 
1924) was a loyal and gifted help- 
mate. In fact one observer said: 
'*If there had been no Florence to 
spur his ambition, Warren Harding 
would not have been President of 
the United States." 

Florence was trained in business 
by her banker father, who wanted 
her to have a musical career. She 
was married at eighteen and soon 
became a widow. Her father ob- 
jected to her second marriage, which 
was solemnized July 8, 1891. 

Her unusual business ability was 
a great asset to her husband, a strug- 
gling editor. It is said that largely 
through Florence the Marion Star 
changed from an unknown news- 
sheet to an important newspaper, 
and that she also helped the editor 
grow into a leading citizen. She 
assisted him in his political climb 
when he entered politics. His father- 
in-law, then reconciled to the mar- 
riage, urged Warren to give up poli- 
tics, but Florence urged him just as 
strongly to keep on, and worked to 
help make him a Senator, then 

He was a handsome, likable man, 
but he lacked some of the qualities 
essential to strong leadership, and 
he put too much trust in friends 



who were not reliable. His was a 
difficult administration, with recon- 
struction and internal problems too 
great for adequate solution. Presi- 
dent Harding's wife stood helpfully 
by him on all occasions. 

Social life in the White House, 
which had been abandoned because 
of the illness of President Wilson, 
was resumed. At a May Day recep- 
tion Mrs. Harding shook hands 
with seven thousand persons, which 
left her own hand so swollen her 
glove had to be cut from it. She 
was interested in welfare work, in 
the schools, and in Girl Scout activi- 

In the midst of all of Warren 
Harding's difficulties, his devoted 
wife was always beside him, even to 
the last scene "when death touched 

him while she was reading aloud to 
him" (August 2, 1923). 


I Lava JO L^radie Song 

Alice Money Bailey 

Go to sleep, little one, don't you know it is night? 

All around you is slumber, yet your blaek eyes are bright. 

Dawn Boy has carried the sun to the West; 

In the Turquoise One's house he is now at his rest. 

Long shadows have thickened; 

Outside is the dark, 

And distant and weird 

Is the coyote's thin bark. 

All they of the winds, and the deer-folk are still. 

And the soft-footed tribe stalks its prey on the hill. 

And now the eyes of the Sky People peeping 

At you through the smoke-hole, their watch of you keeping. 

Your father is nodding, 

His fire has burned low, 

And his silver-work gleams 

In the red-embered glow. 

Your mother is weary, now quiet her loom. 

Its bright pattern dimmed in the hogan's soft gloom. 

Your sister is dreaming, sleep-flung on her pelt; 

In the blue of the firelight her small features melt. 

Your brothers have watered 

And bedded their sheep, 

And your black eyes are drowsy. 

So sleep, papoose, sleep. 

Sixtyi LJears nyigo 

Excerpts From the Woman's Exponent, June i, and June 15, 1894 

*'FoR THE Rights of the Women of Zion and the Rights of the 

Women of All Nations" 

BRIGIIAM YOUNG'S ANNIVERSARY: This the first day of June is quite a 
red-letter day among our people, on account of it being the anniversary of Brigham 
Young, who presided over the Church so many years and was also truly a Moses unto 
this people, a pioneer and leader into these mountain vales, where he founded towns 
and cities, and established order and maintained peace. . . . Let his birthday be kept 
ever fresh and green by our children and children's children. . . . 

— EditorfaJ 

TO THE SISTERS: My thoughts are oft with my sisters and I desire to commune 
with them. . . . Our dear little Exponent is our friend, and it is a welcome visitor 
to all our organizations, and through this medium of communication I hope more often 
to correspond with the sisters. . . . Inasmuch as our long standing organizations have 
been blessed to do so much good in relieving the needy in the past, and there are now 
new duties requiring special attention . . . and praying that we nor any other people 
may ever lack bread or the necessities of life, I feel it will require us as a people to 
have courage and firmness to meet distressing times . . . utilizing all that we can and 
that we have, and not going into debt. We can teach our children frugality and restrain 
them from wasting even a piece of bread. . . . My heart is in the latter-day work, and 
my prayer is that Zion may prosper, . . . 

— Zina D. H. Young, President, Relief Society 


So keep the light about you; death is light. 

And life, and power to pure and chastened love. 

And death is only dark to doubt, and sight 

That has no visions from the world above. 

— Alice Robbins 

A BIRTHDAY PARTY: Thursday, May 3rd was the anniversary of the birthday 
of two of our dear sisters, Susan H. Wells and Bathsheba W. Smith, and as they are 
intimate friends, a party was given in their honor that day at the residence of Sisters 
L. A. and S. H. Wells, which was a very pleasant affair. . . . Miss Kate Wells and 
her sisters Miss May Wells and Mrs. Anette Culmer did the honors in a very grace- 
ful way, and the delicacies served were highly appreciated. . . . The friends whom 
one has known to be ever true in adversity as well as prosperity, should hold sweet 
converse now and then from the busy world apart. — Editorial Notes. 

House March 4, 1894, Sister Sarah Pope presiding. Counselor A. Bartlett said the 
Relief Societv was organized by the Prophet Joseph for a wise purpose, and also spoke 
at some length on the subject of virtue. Counselor Mary Hall bore her testimony. 
Advised the sisters to read and study good books that they might store up knowledge 
and have something to talk about, besides talking about their neighbors, and asked the 
Lord to bless us in our work. . . . Sister Robison spoke a few words to the young sisters. 
Said they must be very kind to the aged, remember they were the ones that eared for 
us when we were small, be kind to them and take their counsel and the counsel of 
parents, for remember we will all be old some day ourselves. . . . President Pope said . . . 
it is but a few short years from the cradle to the grave, and let us do all the good we 
can, , . — Addie Longfellow, Sec. 

Page 380 

Woman's Sphere 

Ramona W. Cannon 

President of Relief Society, has 
gone to Helsinki, Finland, as a vice- 
president of the National Council 
of Women, to attend the triennial 
meeting of the International Coun- 
cil of Women to be held June 
8-1 8th, 1954. ^^^^- Spafford is as- 
signed to the sessions on moral wel- 

sociate Editor of The Improve- 
ment Era, and general board mem- 
ber of the YAV.M.I.A. will attend 
the triennial meeting of the Inter- 
national Council of Women in Hel- 
sinki as an alternate delegate repre- 
senting the Y.W.M.LA. 

CIXTEEN prominent Latter-day 
Saint women have been memo- 
rialized by having the new student 
apartments for women at Brigham 
Young University named for them. 
The honored women are: Lucy 
Mack Smith, Eliza R. Snow, Em- 
meline B. Wells, Mary Fielding 
Smith, Aurelia S. Rogers, Anna 
Meith Maesar, Louie B. Felt, Ro- 
mania B. Penrose, Alice R. Rich- 
ards, Ahce Merrill Home, Ellis R. 
Shipp, Emma Lucy Gates Bowen, 
Louise Y. Robison; and three living 

women: Mima M. Broadbent, Ruth 
May Fox, and Estella S. Harris. 

^HE Lady of Arhngton, a new 
biography by Harnett Kane, 
based on the life of Mary Custis 
Lee, is considered an ''authentic" 
narrative, using as its primary source 
material a large number of letters. 
Mrs. Lee was the only child and 
heiress of George Washington Parke 
Custis, the adopted son of George 
Washington. Mary Custis spent 
most of her girlhood at Arlington, 
the showplace her father built on 
the banks of the Potomac. As wife 
of General Robert E. Lee, during 
the tragic days of the Civil War, she 
suffered much hardship. She died 
at Lexington in 1873, three years 
after the death of her husband. 

OIRTHDAY congratulations are 
extended to Mrs. Cynthia L. 
Bailey, Salt Lake City, ninety-eight; 
Mrs. Elizabeth Ann Nelson Glover, 
Candon, South Carolina, ninety- 
seven; Mrs. Sarah Ann Prince But- 
ler, Eagar, Arizona, ninety-six; Mrs. 
Dorothy Williams, Beaver, Utah, 
ninety-three; Mrs. Hannah Stubbs 
Jones, Salt Lake City, ninety; Mrs. 
Celesta M. Clark, Teton City, 
Idaho, ninety. 

Page 381 


VOL. 41 

JUNE 1954 

NO. 6 

cJhe i2Jfth J^nnuai (church L^onf^ 

AS ancient Israel ascended to Je- 
rusalem yearly to celebrate the 
Feast of the Passover, so modern 
Israel, twice yearly, travels to the 
tops of the moimtains to partake 
each time of three days of a spiritual 

An enlightening and joyful spirit, 
permeated by a deep sense of peace, 
characterized all sessions of the one 
hundred twenty-fourth annual con- 
ference of the Church held on April 
4-6, 1954. It was with reluctance 
that the assembled congregation dis- 
persed at the concluding session. 
For three days they had partaken of 
the bread of life. As they were ad- 
monished, warned, encouraged, and 
uplifted by their prophet, President 
David O. McKay, and by the words 
of those others who have been 
called of God to devote their time 
to his service in behalf of their fel- 
low men, high resolves to live the 
gospel more fully and thus surely 
to earn eternal life found lodgment 
in the hearts of the saints. 

Latter-day Saints sustained whole- 
heartedly the appointment of Elder 
George Q. Morris to the Council of 
the Twelve to fill the vacancy oc- 
casioned by the death, in December, 
of Elder Matthew Cowley, and of 
Elder Sterling W. Sill as an Assist- 
ant to the Twelve to fill the vacancy 
arising from Elder Morris' new ap- 
pointment. Elder Morris' life has 
been spent in the service of the 
Church and Elder Sill's devotion to 
Church duties has been noteworthy. 

Page 382 

ere nee 

Through twenty-seven radio sta- 
tions throughout the Western States 
and the Hawaiian Islands, parts of 
the proceedings of the conference 
were heard by radio originating with 
radio station KSL. In addition to 
the coverage afforded by KSL-TV 
for the entire three days of sessions, 
the first session on Sunday morning, 
was released over nine other TV sta- 
tions in Colorado, Arizona, Cali- 
fornia, Oregon, and Washington. 
The CBS Church of the Air on 
Sunday morning preceding the sec- 
ond session of conference (the first 
session being the Priesthood meet- 
ing on Saturday night) was ad- 
dressed by President J. Reuben 
Clark, Jr. on the subject ''Jesus, Our 
Risen Lord." Truly the command- 
ments of the Master: ''Go ye unto 
all the world, and preach the gospel 
to every creature" (Mark 16:15) is 
becoming more understandable each 
day as scientific marvels are bringing 
the inhabitants of the world within 
speaking distance of each other. In 
this regard President McKay re- 
counted some conjectures of mis- 
sionaries in Scotland, when he was 
laboring there some years ago, as to 
the seeming impossibility of preach- 
ing the gospel to every nation, kin- 
dred, tongue, and people. 

President McKay presided and 
conducted all the sessions of the 
conference. With love and appre- 
ciation, the saints heard his opening 
and closing exhortations. Latter- 
day Saints were urged to heed the 



words of the Lord as found in the 
fourth section of the Doctrine and 

Now behold, a marvelous work is about 
to come forth among the children of 
men. Therefore, O ye that embark in 
the service of God, see that ye serve him 
with all your heart, might, mind and 
strength, that ye may stand blameless be- 
fore God at the last day (D. & C. 4:1-2). 

President McKay declared: 

Four conditions contribute to the in- 
tensifying of the thought or sense of re- 
sponsibility of the Church .... First of 
these are modern means of transporta- 
tion. These have made practically all na- 
tions neighbors .... Another consider- 
ation is the willingness of men and wom- 
en to consecrate their time, their means, 
and their ability to the advancement of 
the Kingdom of God .... Third, the 
fulfillment of prophecies made over a 
hundred years ago regarding the growth 
of the Church brings forcibly to our minds 
the responsibility of proclaiming the truth 
.... Here is another phase of Church 
work — baptisms for those who did not 
have a chance to hear the gospel before 
they died. ... A marvelous work and a 

The address of President Stephen 
L Richards beautifully gave his 
testament of the words of Paul 
*' ... I am not ashamed of the gos- 
pel of Christ " 

President Richards continued: 

Why should we be ashamed of the gos- 
pel of Christ? . . . Undoubtedly one of 
the factors is pride, I think a false pride. 
There is sometimes fear that ridicule will 
follow such an acknowledgment .... 
There are some who may regard the 
acknowledgment of spiritual power as a 
stigma of weakness .... There are some 
who seem to feel that their liberties are 
circumscribed by the acceptance and ac- 
knowledgment of spiritual forces .... 
There are those, constituting perhaps the 
largest portion of that group within the 

Church who seem ashamed of the gospel 
of Christ, who are just too weak to stand 
up under all circumstances and conditions 
for the right and the truth as they know 
it to be .... I make this solemp declara- 
tion: If you are never ashamed of the 
gospel of Christ, if you will always pray 
to him and never defame his sacred name, 
if you will never make light of the Holy 
Priesthood and the ceremonies and ordi- 
nances of the gospel, a spirit of rebellion 
will never come into your hearts .... 
You will grow in faith and in good works, 
and when your life's mission has been 
completed and you go hence to your re- 
ward, the Savior will greet you, as he has 
promised, with those glorious words, "I 
am not ashamed of you." 

President J. Reuben Clark, Jr. ad- 
vised, in a positive and scholarly dis- 
sertation, that Latter-day Saints 
should not accept the nfew revised 
version of the authorized Bible in 
place of the King James version: 

This King James or Authorized Version, 
"as far as it is translated correctly," has 
been the \^ersion accepted by this Church 
since it was . . . organized .... For the 
first three Christian centuries, and follow- 
ing Simon the Sorcerer, heretics and here- 
sies, great and small, sought to destroy or 
wipe out the recognition of Jesus as 
Christ .... I refer to Arianism that 
nearly wrecked the Christian Church in 
the time of Constantine. It is an obscure 
and shifting doctrine that, shortly put, 
and in general terms, denies Godhead to 
the Christ .... The translation found in 
these various Revisions, contains, on the 
one hand, many passages that in effect 
voice Arian or near-Arian concepts, and, 
on the other hand, omits many passages 
that contradict Arian doctrines .... For 
a century and a quarter, The Church of 
Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has de- 
clared the King James Version of the 
Bible to be the Word of God, with a 
reservation as to incorrect translations of 
the Greek text on which it was based .... 
To the Latter-day Saint, the final verdict 
must be that no text that minimizes or 
denies the Godhood of Jesus, can be re- 



garded as the word of God, no matter 
how old and respected the manuscript 
may be which sets out such views .... 
To the Latter-day Saint, Jesus was the 
Christ, the Only Begotten, the Son of 
God, a member of the Trinity. All our 
modern scriptures are to this point, and 
the true ancient Scriptures will neither 
take away from, nor destroy this everlast- 
ing truth. 

In closing, President McKay feel- 

ingly directed his remarks to every 
Latter-day Saint:' 

Now, my brethren and sisters, the hour 
is drawing to a close, wherein our great 
conference gathering will soon have be- 
come an event of the past. The sessions 
themselves will be mere history, but the 
messages, we hope, will ever remain on 
the tablets of our memories and will be- 
come moving factors in our daily lives. 

-M. C. S 



Summer vi/ork 1 1 Leetings 

T is the desire of the general board that a work meeting be held each 
month, as heretofore, during the summer period, June through Sep- 


iHusic for Special LProgram Sunday, flovemoer 7, /pj^ 

TN order to allow ample time for preparation, the numbers to be sung by 
the Singing Mothers in the special program for November 7, 1954 are 
listed below and are available now: 

'T Know That My Redeemer Lives," Edwards, Hymns, Church of 
Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, page 361. 

'Thanks Be to God," S. S. A. No. 2404, Boosey and Hawkes, Inc., 
Lynnbrook, New York, New York. 

If your dealer is unable to supply the second number, it may be or- 
dered from the following stores: 

Beesley Music Company, 70 South Main Street, Salt Lake City, Utah 
Daynes Music Company, 45-47 South Main Street, Salt Lake City, Utah 
Glen Brothers Music Company, 74 South Main Street, Salt Lake City, Utah 

Ujngnam LJoung Limversity^ JLeaaership vl/eek 

June 21 - 25, 1954 

Brigham Young University Leadership Week will be held this year 
during the week of June 21st to June 25th. Lecture periods will deal with 
the courses of study in Relief Society and lectures will also be given on 
teaching methods in Relief Society. Mimeographed copies of some of 
these lectures will be for sale at a nominal fee following Leadership Week. 
It is suggested that Relief Society members who would care to purchase 
copies of this material, correspond with the Extension Division, Brigham 
Young University, as to their availability following Leadership Week. 

cJribute to the Singing fiLothers 

Piesident David O. McKay 

[Comment at the Se\enth Session of the i24tli Annual Conference, Tuesday, 

April 6, 1954] 

"l\7"HEN we realize that these mothers come in small groups from various, 
and in some cases distant, parts of the Church, and have had only one 
or possibly two opportunities to practice as a group, we marvel at the ex- 
pression and inspiration that Sister Madsen succeeds in bringing out of 
this wonderful Singing Mothers organization. 

c/l/i J^ppreciation to cflorence yepperson lliaasen 

Vidd F. Swenson 
How priceless — those rehearsals! WHiat a privilege we have had 
To learn to sing together. Sister Madsen, we are glad 
That you have come among us here in this great latter-day 
To bless us with your leadership, in your most special way. 

That precious instrument, the voice, can loxclv be — or queer. 

We're sure at times disturbing sounds, in discord, reached your ear. 

The title. Dr. Madsen, is appropriate, indeed. 

You know just how to cure our ills and help us to succeed. 

Directions you gi\e clearly; and \our method is unique. 

We can't help knowing what to do whcnc\er these words you speak: 

"Relax your jaw; don't punch each word; get quickly to the vowel. 

Don't spread the e; look pleasant; you're not happy, if vou scowl. 

And sing the i7]essage, not just words. You'\e much improvement shown! 

Just solo \oiccs take those parts and sound just like one voice. 

Now get your breath right under it. That combination's choice. 

Just pantomime uncertain notes; the audience can't tell. 

To spoil it, it just takes one \oicc, so mark your copies well. 

Dri\e carefully; and do keep well; and a good breakfast eat. 

Leave early so you'll be on time. Let's all be kind and sweet." 

Your patience was unlimited; \our helpfulness, supreme. 

The type of singing you produce surpasses any dream. 

Unselfishlv vou'xc shared with us vour time and talents, too. 

And we regret the time's so short that we can spend with you. 

\\^e're grateful for the full support your husband's freely shown. 

Yes, Dr. Franklin Madsen, your devotion's trulv known. 

To those who'\e phued the organ or piano faithfully. 

We say a hearty "Thank you!" You responded cheerfully. 

Dear Sister Madsen, we are proud when you step to your place 

To lead us Singing Mothers; and we read your radiant face. 

Though uttering not a single word, you speak; and we all stand. 

Responding to the message of your trained and guided hand. 

To feel the spirit of the song, we need but watch your face 

That mirrors each directive act performed with skill and grace. 

We sing the glorious hymns of praise, inspired through leadership 

That thrills us to our very souls and holds us in its grip. 

We catch the meaning of the words that are to music set. 

And feel a thrill of ecstasy we never shall forget. 

God bless you, Sister Madsen; may your life be sweet and long. 

That other added thousands may participate in song 

Because of your great leadership, so humble and sincere. 

May joy be yours as joy you've given, through each succeeding year. 

Page 385 

Somethinsr Blue 

SyJvia Piohst 

FROM licr front porch rocking 
chair Susie McCarthy watclicd 
the summer twilight enfolding 
her \allcv in its gentle arms. Down 
in the pasture a frog concert had 
started, and from o\'erhead the 
white eve of a star looked down. 
Summer twilight— how many times 
she had watched it from this old 
porch, how many times in the last 
fifty years! Fifty vears— a smile 



her wrinkled face. Was it 

possible that fifty vears had come 
and gone? She looked do\\n at Will 
resting on the steps, his graying head 
against the porch post. Will Mc- 
Carthy— seventv-five. His hair had 
been ra\'en black and his eyes bright 
and sparkling fiftv vears ago when 
he had brought her here as a bride. 
Funny, she thought, but wonder- 
ful, too, that I love him more now 
than I did then. What a long tiiue 

Susie said nothing. Rocking gent- 
ly back and forth, she was busy with 
her thoughts. Fiftv vears held so 
nuich to remember. She had come 
here as a bride to this big rock 
house, and in all that time she had 
never lived anywhere else. The 
house, the meadows, the orchard, 
the farm fields— here she had lived 
and laughed and worked and suf- 
fered, with Will always by her side. 
And she had come to know his every 
like and dislike; she could almost 
always tell what he was going to 
say before he said it. 'together, they 
had saved and struggled to buy the 
"south forty." She had hepled him 
plant the raspberries and set out the 
orchard trees. She had even helped 
shingle the barn. Will had helped 
her raise a flock of chickens and 
plant a garden each year. 

Not only once, but several times 


his head, 

Mother, a 

ago that was, and how much a body they had papered each room in the 
learns in fifty years. 

From the steps Will 
spoke without turning 
"It's been a good day, 
^^ onderful day. Did you think w^hen 
I brought you here, Susie girl, that 
we'd live to see this day?" 

Susie shook her head. "I was too 
busy hoping you'd get me into the 
house without letting me fall to 
worry about what Fd be or not be 
doing in fifty vears." 

"Yes, I guess you were," Will 
laughed, and turned to look at her. 
"Fifty years," he mused. "For the 
most part it's been good, too. . . . 
You say Nina took her boys to the 
show — and Marian? Out with 
Howard, I guess." 

Page 386 

house. Their house that echoed 
with so map.y tender memories. In 
the big, north bedroom every one 
of her six children had been born, 
and there one baby girl had died. 
I low many meals the seven of them 
had eaten together in the kitchen 
or, when there was company, in the 
dining room. How many songs they 
had sung around the organ in the 
front room. The organ was squeaky 
and out of tune now, and of course 
it was out of style, so they had 
moved it to one of the upstair bed- 
rooms. Still, sometimes she played 
it just for old time's sake, and Will 
would listen or sometimes e\'en sing. 
'I he organ had been a favorite 
thing. Carol had played it, but that 



was years ago. Carol had been dead 
twenty }ears come September, she 
had died when Marian was born. 

AR I AN— Susie smiled, thinking 


of her. She had lived here with 
them since her birth. I low well she 
remembered bringing Marian home 
from the hospital— a tiny, blne-cyed 
girl. She had filled the house with 
sunshine and laughter when Susie's 
boys and Nina had gone to homes 
of their own. It was like having; her 
own children back again reading 
Bible stories to Marian, helping her 
to make the Christmas cookies, tip- 
toeing to her bedside in the stillness 
of the night. 

"Almost feel like going to bed. 
Mother," Will interrupted her 
thinking. "I want to help Tom get 
the rest of the hay up tomorrow, 
and Fm not as voung as I used to 

"But you act like it," Susie 
scolded. "The way you work a bodv 
wouldn't believe you were se\enty- 

Still she was proud of him. The 
way he could do a da\'s work, the 
way he rode a saddle horse, as 
effortless as a voung man. Tom was 
buying their farm, but Will was 
not content until he had helped 
with everv chore the wav he had 
always done. 

"Se\enty-five," Will repeated, 
"guess Fm getting old. But it's been 
a good da^•, a real good day. Don't 
you think so. Mother?" 

It had been a beautiful day, a day 
of a lifetime. Nina had driven in 
from California \^ith her two boys 
last \^'eek, and yesterday Mark and 
\\^alter and their families had come. 

"It's an event, Mother," Nina had 
said, "you and Dad together fifty 

years. I came up especially for a 
celebration, and that's what we're 
going to ha\'e— open house for every- 
body in town." 

NIarian was all enthusiasm. "Oh, 
Gran, it's wonderful. NS\ the roses 
are out, we can ha\e your party out- 
side. You and Cramp on the bench 
under the maple tree. Won't it be 
fun?" And Marian had caught hold 
of her grandmother and danced her 
around the room. 

Marian was bubbling over with 
happiness these days because FIow- 
ard was home. lie had been in 
Korea for almost a }ear, but now 
he was back with a thirty-day leave, 
the end of which was drawing near. 
Susie didn't like to think of his go- 
ing again. 'Fhey all liked him so 
much. "He's just right for our 
Marian," \\^ill had always said. 
Howard's folks had lived neighbors 
to them since Howard was a small 
boy. I'hey had grown up together, 
Marian and he. 

"We had better drive into town," 
Nina had decided. "We want 
printed invitations and a few things 
we can't get around here." 

Of course Marian and Howard 
would dri\e to the city with Nina, 
but Susie couldn't understand why 
Will went along. "You'll be all 
tuckered out trying to keep up with 
these young folks," she said. 

Will had laughed at that. "I 
could beat any of them in a foot 
race," he told her. 

'T^HEN, this morning, she had 
learned Will's particular reason 
for going to the city— this morning 
on their fiftieth wedding anniver- 
sary. When they were all seated 
around the breakfast table. Will had 
gone into the bedroom. He had re- 



turned carrying a small package and 
beaming like a school boy. 

"For you, Mother," he had said, 
bending down to embrace her. 

Susie had opened it with trem- 
bling fingers, while her eager family 
watched. There in the little velvet 
box was a sparkling sapphire on a 
thin gold chain— a sapphire neck- 
lace, a replica of the one Will had 
given her fifty years ago, the one 
she had lost. But this one looks 
bigger and more beautiful, she 
thought. Quick tears came to her 

''Oh, Will, whatever made you 
remember?" she whispered. 

''I remembered for him," Nina 
spoke up. ''And I knew he could 
afford it now." 

Yes, he could afford it now, 
though it must have cost him a pret- 
ty penny. Blue had always been 
her favorite color, and he knew it. 
How many pairs of blue felt slip- 
pers he had given her through the 
years. But a sapphire necklace- 
sapphire was her birthstone, too. 
Will had bought her a sapphire 
necklace for a wedding gift. She 
had worn it on her wedding day 
and once more, only once more to 
a dance in the social hall. Somehow 
she had lost it at the dance. She 
remembered how she had cried, and 
how they had gone back and 
searched everywhere in the hall and 
asked folks all around. But the 
necklace stayed lost. 

Will had put his arms around 
her, comforting. "I'll buy you an- 
other one on our first anniversary," 
he had promised. 

Walter was born a few days be- 
fore their first anniversary, and the 
years that followed brought more 
children and doctor bills, and the 

sacrifice and struggle to pay off the 
farm. Anniversaries came and went, 
sometimes Will even forgot them. 
But Susie never quite forgot the 
necklace, for whenever she saw a 
shining, blue sapphire in a jeweler's 
window she had to stop and look at 
it with a wistfulness in her eyes. 

Now, after all these years, Will 
had bought her a necklace once 
more, as he had promised to do. 

"Try it on, Gran," Marian had 

She had lifted it from the box, 
but her hands had been trembling. 
With deft fingers Nina had reached 
for the golden chain and clasped it 
around her neck. 

"Isn't it beautiful?" they said. 

Susie turned to Will, she thought 
his eyes were misted, but he had 
been smiling at her. 

'Til have to see how I look," she 
had told them. 

In front of her bedroom mirror, 
Susie had looked at herself for a 
long moment. The sparkling blue 
of the sapphire stood out with 
marked contrast against the drab 
brown of her wrinkled neck. For 
some reason, it didn't look just 
right. Funny how she would have 
treasured it years ago, but now she 
was seventy, and values were differ- 

"It was meant for a queen," she 
told them, "not for an old lady like 

To which they had objected 
strongly, but all through th