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flew LJears (greetings 

"\T7ITII the advent of another New Year, the general board sends love and greetings 
vv to the more than 156,000 Relief Society members living in many parts of the 
world. We are grateful for the abiding testimonies of Relief Society members as to the 
divinity of the work in which we are engaged. We acknowledge with deep appreciation 
the devoted service continuously given to the work of the Society and the love that 
exists in the hearts of the sisters everywhere for Relief Societv and for one another. 

Relief Society work is the work of the Master. It calls for love of God on the part 
of its members, with hearts attuned to his will; it calls for love of his children character- 
ized by the free and ready exercise of compassion toward them. 

As we look forward to the New Year, each of us desires for this Society an abun- 
dance of blessings from the Father; we wish to meet more fully our individual responsi- 
bilities toward the Society. It is the season when each of us is imbued with the deep 
desire better to conduct her own life so as to bring about greater personal blessings and 
a higher degree of happiness. It is but natural that those of us who love Relief Society 
would wish for its continued well-being. It is but natural that each one would desire 
and hope for herself and her loved ones as high a degree of peace, happiness, and security 
as is possible in a world filled with trials and uncertainties. 

It is comforting to know that, regardless of the impact of evil and the strains and 
stresses of life, the continued well-being of Relief Society is assured and the blessings 
of personal peace and happiness as well as eternal well-being are attainable for each of 
us, if we but follow the path simply and clearly defined for us by the Master: 

"And one of the scribes came, and having heard them reasoning together, and per- 
ceiving that he had answered them well, asked him, Which is the first commandment of 

"And Jesus answered him, The first of all the commandments is, Hear, O Israel; 
The Lord our God is one Lord: 

"And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, 
and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength: this is the first commandment. 

"And the second is like, namely this, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. 
There is none other commandment greater than these. 

"And the scribe said unto him, Well, Master, thou hast said the truth: for there 
is one God; and there is none other but he: 

"And to love him with all the heart, and with all the understanding, and with all 
the soul, and with all the strength, and to love his neighbour as himself, is more than 
all whole burnt offerings and sacrifices. 

"And when Jesus saw that he answered discreetly, he said unto him, Thou art not 
far from the kingdom of God . . ." (Mark 12:28-34). 

One who is not far from the kingdom of God enjoys an incomparable sense of 
peace, joy, and well-being. 

The dominant principle of Relief Society work has always been and must continue 
to be love of God and love and compassion for his children. Therein lies its hope of 
continued blessings from the Father and the full realization of its mission. Obedience to 
the first two great commandments is the greatest guarantee of earthly and eternal bless- 
ings for each of us as individuals. 

The sister who will give to Relief Society through the new year a full measure of 
devotion will be an instrument in bringing about the desired blessings for Relief Society, 
and she will find herself on the pathway that leads toward the earthly and eternal bless- 
ings she deserves for herself. 

May the New Year bring to Relief Society women everywhere the love, approba- 
tion, and blessings of our Heavenly Father is our earnest prayer. 

Belle S. Spa ft oid 
Marianne C. Sharp 
Velnia N. Simonsen 

Page 1 

Qjrofn it 

ear an 

a 3fc 


I do not want to miss any issue of The 
Relief Society Magazine. I probably can 
say that Iran is one of the farthest places 
this Magazine travels. I am very grateful 
it can reach here. I was so thrilled when 
the September issue arrived, to open it 
and see President McKay's picture before 
me and read the beautiful poem (by Eliz- 
abeth Hill Boswell) composed especially 
for him. Every word is true. 
— Mrs. Bert Gardner 

Tabriz, Iran 

I always enjoy the lessons in our fine 
Magazine and want to congratulate you 
on the wonderful story "Meet Mother, 
Jody," by Rosa Lee Lloyd (August 1955). 
I am sure we would all wish to be the 
same kind of mother-in-law. I also en- 
joyed the lovely poem "The Mountain 
Climber," by Maryhale Woolsey (August 


— Elsie Jack 

Salt Lake City, Utah 

I wish to thank my friend Helen Back- 
man of Santaquin, Utah, for the much- 
appreciated subscription to The Relief So- 
ciety Magazine. I do enjoy the beautiful 
lessons and wonderful poetry. The 
character-building and literary attributes of 
the Magazine are something fresh and 
clean. I had the pleasure of meeting a 
fine group of writers from Utah at the 
regional meeting of the National League 
of American Pen Women in Cheyenne, 
Wyoming, in May. I especially enjoyed 
the musical program put on by Mirla G. 
Thayne of Provo. Others I had the pleas- 
ure of meeting were: Dorothy Rea, Olive 
W. Burt, Mabel Harmer, Oliver Milner, 
Naomi W. Randall, and Christie Lund 

— Amelia V. Christeson 

Lajunta. Colorado 

I have found much pleasure in reading 
the October issue of The Relief Society 
Magazine. The lovely sonnet "I Found 
October" by Agnes Just Reid is explicit 
and alive with imagery. The article 
"Wearing a Pretty Face," by Mabel Law 
Atkinson is arresting and the import re- 
vealing. It is also vividly realistic, as are 
her exquisite poems. 

— Helen Gee Woods 
Idaho Falls, Idaho 

The Relief Society Magazine means so 
much to our family while we are away 
from home and have no place to attend 
Church activities. My husband and I 
both enjoy the stories and lessons. 

— Phyllis Grant 

Naples, Italy 

Our members in the French Mission 
who read English are thoroughly enjoying 
the Magazine. The other members en- 
joy it through them, and I am sure it is 
a means whereby our sisters feel them- 
selves a part of a truly great organization. 
We surely appreciate receiving the copies 
that we distribute among our Relief So- 
ciety sisters each month. 

— Rachel L. Lee 


French Mission Relief Society 

Paris, France 

Six of my ancestors were pioneers 
of Utah, and I have been a member of 
Relief Society for more than thirty years, 
having served as First Counselor, visiting 
teacher, and class leader. The wonderful 
lessons have been an inspiration to me, 
and as a regular subscriber, I have saved 
my Magazines. 

— Edda Simons Noon 
Payson, Utah 

The Cover: Mountain Vista in the National Park near Bariloche by the Nahuel 
Huapi Lake, Argentina, South America, Photograph submitted by 
Amy Y. Valentine 

Frontispiece Photograph: Mistletoe at Grand Canyon, Arizona 
Photograph by Josef Muench 

Cover Design by Evan Jensen 

Page 2 


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


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

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

Evon W. Peterson 
Leone O. Jacobs 
Louise W. Madsen 
Aleine M. Young 
Josie B. Bay 
Christine H. Robinson 

- President 

- First Counselor 

- Second Counselor 

- - - Secretary-Treasurer 

Alberta H. Christensen Winniefred S 

Mildred B. Eyring 

Helen W. Anderson 

Gladys S. Boyer 

Charlotte A. Larsen 

Edith P. Backman 

Elna P. Haymond 
Annie M. Ellsworth 
Mary R. Young 



Associate Editor 
General Manager 

Marianne C. Sharp 

Vesta P. Crawford 

Belle S. Spafiord 

Vol. 43 


No. 1 


on tents 


New Year's Greetings 1 

The Objectives of Relief Society Mark E. Petersen 4 

Award Winners — Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest 9 

A Rose for Deseret — First Prize Poem Maryhale Woolsey 10 

Enduring Memories — Second Prize Poem Beatrice K. Ekman 11 

Be Still, My Heart— Third Prize Poem Ruth C. Langlois 13 

Award Winners — Annual Relief Society Short Story Contest 15 

"Now Is a Man Grown" — First Prize Story Maryhale Woolsey 16 

The Argentine Mission Preston Nibley 22 

Swiss Temple Table Arrangement Inez R. Allen 28 

How to Sell The Relief Society Magazine Dr. Royal L. Garff 36 

Polio Isn't Licked Yet Basil O'Connor 37 

Biographical Sketches of Award Winners in the Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest 53 


The Living Gifts Dorothy B. Kilian 24 

The Closed Circle Beatrice R. Parsons 38 

Hermanas — Chapter 7 Fay Tarlock 48 


From Near and Far 2 

Sixty Years Ago 30 

Woman's Sphere Ramona W. Cannon 31 

Editorial: Greetings for the New Year Velma N. Simonsen 32 

In Memoriam — Emeline Young Nebeker 33 

Covers Will Feature Missions Outside Continental United States 

New Serial "There Is Still Time" to Begin in February 33 

Notes to the Field: Relief Society Assigned Evening Meeting of Fast Sunday in March 34 

Lesson Work for Spanish-Speaking Relief Societies and Other Minority Groups in Stakes 34 

Award Subscriptions Presented in April 35 

Bound Volumes of 1955 Relief Society Magazines 35 


Recipes from Argentina Keith F. Thompson 29 

Vegetables— A Different Way Every Day— Part II Rhea H. Gardner 46 

Reba Turner, Lady of Charity - 47 


Theology: Signs of the Crucifixion; the Voice of Jesus Christ Is Heard Leland H. Monson 54 

Visiting Teacher Messages: "But Behold, the Resurrection of Christ Redeemeth Mankind," 

Edith S. Elliott 57 

Work Meeting: Vegetable Cookery (Continued) Rhea H. Gardner 58 

Literature: Thomas Hardy "The Return of the Native" Briant S. Jacobs 60 

Social Science: The Constitution and World Affairs Albert R. Bowen 66 

"Today," by Etta Robbins, 8; "Winter Memory," by Grace Barker Wilson, 8; "Threshold," by 
Catherine E. Berry, 14; "Weaving," by Miriam W. Wright, 26; "New Year's Day," by Christie 
Lund Coles, 27 ; "At Midnight, December Thirty-first," by Katherine F. Larsen, 35; "Time 
Eternal," by Vesta N. Lukei, 72. 


Editorial and Business Offices: 40 North Main, Salt Lake City 1, Utah, Phone EM 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. 

Page 3 

The Objectives of Relief Society 

Elder Mark E. Petersen 
Of the Council of the Twelve 

[Address Delivered at the Annual General Relief Society Conference, 

September 28, 1955] 

IT has surely been an inspiration 
to me, my dear sisters, to be 
present in this meeting with 
you this afternoon. The Relief So- 
ciety always has been a great inspira- 
tion to me. I have great respect 
not only for the organization as 
such, but for you who officer the 
organization, and surely for the gen- 
eral presidency and general board 
who direct the work. I join whole- 
heartedly with what Sister Sharp 
said about the general board and 
Sister SpafTord, and I would surely 
like to add Sister Simonsen and Sis- 
ter Sharp in that reference. These 
ladies are simply wonderful. They 
are so outstanding. They surely 
have been abundantly blessed of the 
Lord, and the reason the Lord 
blesses them so is because they 
themselves are so devoted. They 
put their all on the altar and they 
never hold anything back. They 
give so freely of themselves, and are 
so obedient to the Lord that he can 
work through them successfully and 
use them as wonderful instruments 
in accomplishing his purposes on the 

So I am grateful for the oppor- 
tunity and the privilege of paying 
tribute this day to the Relief Society 
and the wonderful ladies who direct 
its work both Church-wide and in 
the stakes and the wards and in the 

I have been very happy with the 
music that we have had here today, 

Page 4 

I am always happy with things that 
come from Sugar House Stake. For 
a time I was privileged to be in the 
stake presidency of that stake, and 
so whenever I hear of Sugar House 
Stake accomplishing things, it makes 
me very happy. I was very glad to 
hear this wonderful chorus under 
the very able direction of Sister Ann 
Jones whom I have known for some 
years, together with her husband, 
and for whom I also have very great 

I would like to enter into the 
spirit of your music here today as I 
talk with you. You remember that 
our opening song was "Earth, With 
Her Ten Thousand Flowers": 

Earth, with her ten thousand flow'rs, 
Air, with all its beams and show'rs, 
Heaven's infinite expanse, 
Sea's resplendent countenance, 
All around and all above, 
Bear this record, God is love. 

Sounds among the vales and hills, 
In the woods and by the rills, 
Of the breeze and of the bird, 
By the gentle murmur stirred, 
Sacred songs, beneath, above, 
Have one chorus, God is love. 

All the hopes that sweetly start 
From the fountain of the heart, 
All the bliss that ever comes 
To our earthly human homes, 
All the voices from above, 
Sweetly whisper, God is love. 

— "Earth, With Her Ten Thousand 
Flowers," William W. Phelps and 
Thomas C. Griggs. 


I was also happy that we sang that 
one verse of my favorite hymn, 
''Love at Home." 

On the front of your program, 
did you notice the seal of the Re- 
lief Society, and did you notice on 
the upper rim of that seal the little 
expression "Charity Never Faileth"? 
Do you remember that The Book 
of Mormon tells us that true charity 
is the true love of God? So again 
everything whispers "God is love." 

TV/TAY I take the opportunity of 
reading just a little bit from 
Paul's wonderful first Epistle to the 

Though I speak with the tongues of 
men and of angels, and have not charity, 
I am become as sounding brass, or a tink- 
ling cymbal. 

And though I have the gift of prophecy, 
and understand all mysteries, and all 
knowledge; and though I have all faith, 
so that I could remove mountains, and 
have not charity, I am nothing. 

And though I bestow all my goods to 
feed the poor, and though I give my body 
to be burned, and have not charity, it 
profiteth me nothing. 

Charity suffereth long, and is kind; 
charity cnvieth not; charity vaunteth not 
itself, is not puffed up, 

Doth not behave itself unseemly, seek- 
eth not her own, is not easily provoked, 
thinketh no evil; 

Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth 
in the truth; 

Beareth all things, believeth all things, 
hopeth all things, endureth all things. 

Charity never faileth; but whether 
there be prophecies, they shall fail; wheth- 
er there be tongues, they shall cease; 
whether there be knowledge, it shall van- 
ish away. 

For we know in part, and we prophesy 
in part. 

But when that which is perfect is come, 
then that which is in part shall be done 

When I was a child, I spake as a child, 
I understood as a child, I thought as a 

child: but when I became a man, I put 
away childish things. 

For now we see through a glass, darkly; 
but then face to face: now I know in 
part; but then shall I know even as also 
I am known. 

And now abideth faith, hope, charity, 
these three; but the greatest of these is 
charity (I Cor. 13:1-13). 

Reference has been made several 
times to the instructions given by 
the Prophet Joseph Smith to the 
Relief Society in the day in which 
he lived. You remember that on 
the day of organization, the Prophet 
Joseph Smith held out three prin- 
cipal objectives for the Relief So- 
ciety. One was to provoke the 
brethren to good works. We hear 
a great deal about that one, and so 
we should, but I hope we will 
always add the latter part. Some- 
times it is not put on, you know, 
and we merely say "to provoke the 
brethren," but we hope that they 
will always be provoked to good 
works. The second was to search 
for objects of charity and look after 
their needs, and the third was to as- 
sist in correcting the morals and 
strengthening the virtues of the 

Now the Prophet, later, talked 
further with the sisters about their 
great work, and emphasized par- 
ticularly two points: to search out 
the needy and provide for them; 
and endeavor to uplift the stand- 
ards, the living standards, the moral 
standards, of the community. He 
knew that in order to accomplish 
the purpose he had in mind for 
them, the sisters must have a par- 
ticular attitude. They must ap- 
proach these objectives in a cer- 
tain frame of mind, otherwise they 
could not accomplish this great 


thing. That attitude of mind, or 
the approach they were to make, 
was based entirely upon a spirit of 
love, of compassion, of genuine 
charity which was the true love of 
Christ. If we do not approach our 
work with that spirit, then can we, 
in truth, accomplish our work? 
Again let me remind you of Paul: 

Though I speak with the tongues of 
men and of angels, and have not charity, 
I am become as sounding brass, or a 
tinkling cymbal .... 

And though I bestow all my goods to 
feed the poor, and though I give my body 
to be burned, and have not charity, it 
profiteth me nothing (I Cor. 13:1, 3). 

Though I have the grandest Re- 
lief Society program in the world, 
though I have the very best inten- 
tion, though there are many people 
to help, unless I carry on my work 
in the true spirit of charity, with 
love and compassion in my heart, I 
am nothing. 

I am fully convinced that one of 
the greatest of all the command- 
ments is what we speak of as the 
Golden Rule. ". . . all things what- 
soever ye would that men should 
do to you, do ye even so to 
them . . ." (Mt. 7:12). We can- 
not do our Relief Society work or 
any Church work and do it the way 
the Lord would have it done unless 
we have the spirit of the Golden 
Rule in our hearts. 

f~XF course, this Golden Rule 
comes back to the second great 
commandment, which is like unto 
the first, ". . . Thou shalt love thy 
neighbour as thyself . . ." (Mark 
12:31). Upon these two command- 
ments hang all the law and the 
prophets. So, no matter what our 

works may be or what our words 
may be, if we do not have as our 
great motivating force, the true 
spirit of compassion, are we not as 
sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal? 
May I quote from one of the ad- 
dresses given by the Prophet Joseph 
Smith, to the early meetings of the 
Relief Society. Referring to unfor- 
tunate individuals, he said: 

. . . they are fellow mortals, we loved 
them once, shall we not encourage them 
to reformation? We have not [yet] for- 
given them seventy times seven, as our 
Savior directed; perhaps we have not for- 
given them once. There is now a day 
of salvation to such as repent and re- 
form .... 

. . . We must be merciful to one an- 
other .... 

Nothing is so much calculated to lead 
people to forsake sin as to take them by 
the hand, and watch over them with 
tenderness. When persons manifest the 
least kindness and love to me, O what 
power it has over my mind, while the 
opposite course has a tendency to harrow 
up all the harsh feelings and depress the 
human mind .... 

The power and glory of godliness is 
spread out on a broad principle to throw 
out the mantle of charity. God does not 
look on sin with allowance, but when 
men have sinned, there must be allow- 
ance made for them .... 

The nearer we get to our heavenly 
Father, the more we are disposed to look 
with compassion on perishing souls. . . . 
My talk is intended for all this society; 
if you would have God have mercy on 
you, have mercy on one another. . . . 

There should be no license for sin, but 
mercy should go hand in hand with re- 
proof . . . (D. H. C. Vol. V, pp. 20, 

And then the Prophet said this: 

. . . The Ladies' Relief Society is not 
only to relieve the poor, but to save 
souls. . . . (D. H. C. V, page 25.) 

He taught the glorious lesson 


that by love and compassion, we 
can save souls. We can show love 
and compassion to the sinner, and 
we can show love and compassion 
to those who are poor and needy 
and have a lack of this world's 
goods. We need that love, that 
language of the heart, which goes 
out to both sets of people. 

We are not to take the position 
that people may have brought this 
difficulty upon themselves, and 
therefore, are to blame and they 
ought to suffer it out. We cannot 
judge. It is not for us to judge 
anyone. It would be wonderful if 
every Relief Society sister in the 
reading of The Book of Mormon 
would refer back at least once a 
week to that marvelous address of 
King Benjamin who spoke about 
charity and kindness toward our 
fellow men, and who carried out 
this very thought, of which we 
have spoken this afternoon, that we 
need not think that we are any 
better than anyone else. We need 
not think that any person who is 
in difficulty has brought it upon 
himself, and therefore, we should 
withhold the hand of charity. That 
is not the true spirit of Christ. 

May we remember that always, 
and remember, too, that if we are 
going to be the true handmaidens 
and the true servants of the Lord, 
we must have that Christ-like spir- 
it which led him to say "Blessed 
are the merciful: for they shall ob- 
tain mercy" (Mt. 5:7). 

/^UR attitude toward our fellow 
men is so important to the 
manner in which God will judge 
us. It isn't just the handing out 
with the hand. We must give 

from the heart. And if we, with the 
spirit of love and the spirit of Christ, 
can draw near to unfortunate peo- 
ple, extending our hand of fellow- 
ship through the language of love, 
we will save souls. 

I remember so well the marvelous 
example set for us by our beloved 
President George Albert Smith, who 
always told us that we were to love 
people into the Church. Do you 
remember that? 

I am always impressed by the 
25th chapter of Matthew, and may 
I just refer briefly to it. You re- 
member how the Lord there told 
about the judgment and said: 

... I was an hungred, and ye gave 
me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me 
drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me 

Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, 
and ye visited me: I was in prison, and 
ye came unto me (Mt. 25:35-36). 

When I read those words, I think 
of you wonderful ladies of the Re- 
lief Society, because you call upon 
the sick, you call upon those who 
are unfortunate otherwise, and if 
they are hungry, you feed them, if 
they are naked, you clothe them, 
if they are downcast, you lift them 
up in their spirits. 

. . . Inasmuch as ye have done it unto 
one of the least of these my brethren, 
ye have done it unto me (Mt. 25:40). 

It is in that spirit of love and 
compassion that we accomplish the 
great work of the Savior. 

Do you remember what he said 
to the Prophet Joseph in one of his 
great revelations? 

And faith, hope, charity and love, with 
an eye single to the glory of God, qual- 
ify him for the work. 



Remember faith, virtue, knowledge, 
temperance, patience, brotherly kindness, 
godliness, charity, humility, diligence. 

Ask, and ye shall receive; knock, and 
it shall be opened unto you. Amen 
(D.&C. 4:5-7). 

I am grateful for the privilege 
again of paying tribute to the mar- 
velous work you do and to each 
one of you who does the work. I 

am grateful beyond expression for 
the Relief Society. I am grateful 
beyond expression for the spirit of 
love and compassion you exhibit in 
your work, and that you may 
always have it, and that you may 
breathe that spirit into all of your 
instructions and in your leadership 
throughout the Church, is my hum- 
ble prayer in Jesus' name. Amen. 



Etta Robbins 

Today is an assignment 
The Lord has given me, 
To magnify each moment — 
To live consistently. 

Tomorrow is a field unknown 
Its harvest, who can say? 
Yet it may yield rich fruitage 
From seed I sow today. 

Winter 771 


Grace Barker Wilson 

Something there is that echoes in my heart 

When snow begins to fall and lie in drifts 

On hillside and arroyo. A small part 

Of mountain winter comes when the wind lifts 

A tumble weed, and rolls it like a ball 

Across the whitening plain. We used to make 

A snowball on the slope where meadows fall 

Away, and let it gather size, and take 

Its course down to the brook. We followed then 

And laughed to see it grow. And we came back 

Along its trail to start it all again; 

And through the snow it left a darkened track. 

Something there is I find remembering sweet, 

When wintertime and snow and memories meet. 

uxward vi/tnners 

ibltza U\. Snow Lroern Contest 

HTHE Relief Society general board 
is pleased to announce the 
names of the three winners in the 
1955 Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest. 
This contest was announced in the 
May 1955 issue of the Magazine, 
and closed August 15, 1955. 

The first prize of twenty-five dol- 
lars is awarded to Maryhale Wool- 
sey, Salt Lake City, Utah, for her 
poem "A Rose for Deseret." The 
second prize of twenty dollars is 
awarded to Beatrice Knowlton Ek- 
man, Portland, Oregon, for her 
poem "Enduring Memories." The 
third prize of fifteen dollars is 
awarded to Ruth C. Langlois, Salt 
Lake City, Utah, for her poem "Be 
Still My Heart." 

This poem contest has been con- 
ducted annually by the Relief So- 
ciety general board since 1924 in 
honor of Eliza R. Snow, second gen- 
eral 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 
increase 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 pub- 
lication by others except upon writ- 
ten permission of the general board. 
The general board also reserves the 
right to publish any of the poems 
submitted, paying for them at the 
time of publication at the regular 

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

There were 118 poems submitted 
in this year's contest. Many of the 
poems revealed a discriminating 
choice of subject material and a 
careful use of poetic technique. 

Nineteen states and the District 
of Columbia were represented in 
the contest entries. The largest 
number of submissions came in the 
following order: Utah, California, 
Arizona, Idaho, Colorado, Missouri, 
Virginia. Four entries were received 
from Canada, two from Australia, 
and one from England. 

Mrs. Woolsey, winner of the first 
prize, appears for the first time as a 
winner in the Eliza R. Snow Poem 
Contest. Mrs. Ekman was awarded 
second place in 1932 and in 1936. 
Mrs. Langlois is a first-time winner 
in the contest. 

The general board congratulates 
the prize winners and expresses ap- 
preciation to all entrants for their 
interest in the contest. The general 
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. 

Page 9 

[Prize- vi/tnntng Lroems 

Eliza Roxey Snow Memorial Poem Contest 

First Prize Poem 

c/t uiose for LQeseret 

Maryhale Woolsey 

On leaving their old home, she brought along 

To this new land, some sturdy roots of rose — 
Cinnamon-scented blossoms she had loved, 

That brightened every June. One might suppose 
It foolish, sharing the crowded wagon space 

With non-essentials; but her John, loving-wise, 
Approved .... His spade turned the hard earth to set 

Them in. (Hope was so fragile in her eyes!) 

But those small twisted roots held stubborn life. 

. . . The first young leaves, to her, were almost pain- 
So keen her joy to see them greening there 

Amid the vastness of sage-burdened plain. 
She carried precious water for their need, 

Kept guard against the locust and the crow, 
Routed encroaching weeds, and blanketed 

With sand and brush, against the winter's snow. 
Page 10 

Eagerly one June morning, even before 

She dressed, or started up the breakfast fire, 
She hastened from the cabin door, to stand 

Entranced beside the wonder, to admire 
A bright, full-opened yellow blossom. Then 

She knew, herself, the triumph men must feel 
In empire-conquest. Home was hers at last — 

This first proud rose a symbol, and a seal. 


Second Prize Poem 

\onauring 1 1 ternortes 

Beatrice Knowlton Ekman 

So long, so long since my wandering feet 
Last turned away from my Grandfather's door, 
But the cherished memories are clear and sweet 
And my heart brims up with such golden store, 
That I go at will to the old loved home, 
To the mown sweet hay and meadowlark's cry, 
To the tree-fringed acres of teeming loam 
Under piled, white clouds in a blue, blue sky. 

Page 11 

I leave the train at the low, red station 

And follow the tracks to the crossing place 

Where the dirt road leads to my destination, 

Through the wild sweet clover and Queen Ann's lace. 

When I take the turn for the low hill's crest 

By the marshy pool that has cupped the rain, 

A flock of swift blackbirds, yellow of breast, 

Wing up from the cattails and bullrush cane. 

At the top of the hill, from the clumped oak brush, 

Comes the plaintive call of the whistling quail, 

As up and away, in its coat of plush, 

Like a streak of light, leaps a cottontail. 

I follow down to the foot of the hill 

Where the lucern fields stretch far and green 

Past the red brick schoolhouse, empty and still, 

Standing alone in the small ravine. 

To the east tall mountain peaks notch the sky 

And farm land checkers the foothill's side; 

To the west the Inland Sea waters lie, 

And over salt marshes the gray gulls glide. 

At the end of the field I climb the stile 
And walk in the shade of the locust lane; 
From the nearby pasture the milch cows file, 
And the west has cradled the sun again. 
The herd boy has put up the pasture bars, 
And birds in the hedge row drowsily fret. 

The night will be crowned with a roof of stars, 
For the windows flame with the red sunset. 
Through the bending willows the swift creek flows 
And the narrow footbridge sways with its strain; 

Through the shining windows the lamplight glows 
On night moths futilely beating the pane .... 
At the supper table we take our place. 
My Grandmother sits in her straight armchair. 
Light falls on my Grandfather's deep-lined face 
And his bowed white head as he offers prayer. 

Page 12 


Third Prize Poem 

{Be Still ITlii (jl^art 

Ruth C. Langlois 

Now spins the universe its years away, 

Drops each by one in time not slow nor fast, 

Blind and unchanged from day to darkened day, 

Nor caring what ages are, nor musty past; 

Heaping the dust upon a manger far 

From jeweled city and the might of men, 

Losing in galaxies one brighter star 

That man will ne'er identify again. 

Ah, Bethlehem, how little cares the night 

That in thy darkened streets once angels trod; 

That once this little place held all the light 

Of seraphims in song for love of God! 

Search not the hills, my heart, nor cobbled street, 

Nor rocky cavern where the Infant lay 

For some small, certain sign, obscure and sweet, 

To tell thee God was born to man that day. 

Page 13 

His gentle passing left no graven mark 

For thee to read and say, "I know! I know!" 

Nay! Through the crumbling ages each must hark 

To whispering truth that falls as snow on snow, 

Till, solitary as the star that swings 

Ten million light years from his next of kin, 

To thee alone, all clear, the angel sings 

His message, flooding hallowed light within 

The still, dark caverns of thy wondering doubt. 

Oh! mark how bright his message then doth glisten, 
How true and sweet each measured note rings out 
To fill thy soul! Be still, my heart, and listen! 

*Note: For biographical sketches of the award winners in the Eliza R. Snow Poem 
Contest, see page 53. 


Catherine E. Berry 

In a few brief moments the bells will ring 
Proclaiming the old year has gone, 
A requiem for the memories that cling, 
A salute to the coming dawn. 

Here in this small space of time we review 
The blessing the new year imparts, 
The hopes and the promises life will renew, 
The vision of dreams for our hearts. 

On the threshold of time we say a prayer 

For all of the days that will be, 

May wc follow the star that is gleaming out there, 

To the goal of our destiny. 

Page 14 

J/L\vam vytfifiers 

^rinnual LKeltef Society Snort Story L^ontest 

r pHE Relief Society general board 
is pleased to announce the 
award winners in the Annual Relief 
Society Short Story Contest which 
was announced in the May 1955 
issue of the Magazine, and which 
closed August 15, 1955. 

The first prize of fifty dollars is 
awarded to Maryhale Woolsey, Salt 
Lake City, for her story "Now Is a 
Man Grown." The second prize of 
forty dollars is awarded to Margaret 
Hardy, Salt Lake City, for her story 
"Keep Me Forever." The third 
prize of thirty dollars is awarded to 
Edith Larson, Manton, Michigan, 
for her story "Room for Nancy." 

Mrs. Woolsey is a first-time win- 
ner in the Annual Relief Society 
Short Story Contest, although she 
is a frequent contributor to the 
Magazine. Mrs. Hardy and Mrs. 
Larson also appear as award winners 
for the first time. It is interesting to 
note that this year, for the first time 
since the contests were initiated, the 
same woman has won the first prize 
both in the Eliza R. Snow Poem 
Contest and in the Short Story Con- 

The Annual Relief Society Short 
Storv Contest was first conducted 
by the Relief Society general board 
in 1941, as a feature of the Relief 
Society centennial observance, and 
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 1956. 

Thirty-four stories were entered 
in the contest for 1955. Many of 
these stories were unusually well 

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 opportun- 
ity continues to increase the literary 
quality of The Relief 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 prop- 
erty of the Relief Society general 
board, and may not be used for pub- 
lication by others except on written 
permission from the general board. 
The general board also reserves the 
right to publish any of the stories 
submitted in the contest, 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 
eligible to enter the contest. 

The general board congratulates 
the prize-winning contestants, and 
expresses appreciation to 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 storv committee in 
supervising the contest. 

Page 15 

QJtrst y^rtze- vt/inniag Story 

Kslnnual LKe/tef Society Snort Story Contest 

4 4 

Now Is a Man Grown' 

Maryhale Woolsey 

OUTSIDE, an early November 
afternoon moved toward its 
end, wan yellow light fading 
to gray; there was a hint of ice in 
the small wind and of snow in 
clouds piling up at the western hori- 
zon. But in the roomy "living- 
kitchen" at the Hirsch farm there 
was the warmth of a coal fire in the 
range, the cheer of light from a red- 
shaded lamp hanging above the set 
supper table, and the comfortable 
pleasant odors of sausage and fresh 
bread and baked potatoes and spicy 
peach cobbler. Poppadee would be 
coming any minute now, and soon 
the good meal would be over and it 
would be time to read the Letter. 

And to open the large flat pack- 
age marked "Photograph." 

Mommadee had almost yielded 
to an urge to open that. Exciting, 
it was, so big and important-seem- 
ing, and oh, she was impatient to 
see it! To see The Boy's face look- 
ing out of it at her . . . but it would 
be unfair for her to see it first and 
all by herself. So she had set it 
behind the Letter on top of the 
linen chest, where all The Boy's let- 
ters in turn waited for their time to 
be read. 

Poppadee would do the reading, 
while Mommadee sat close by in 
her rocking chair, mending or darn- 
ing. Poppadee could read beautiful- 
ly, his voice making a pleasant 

Page 16 

rumbling sound in the room and 
sometimes sounding so much like 
The Boy's voice that it was almost 
as if the three of them were there, 
all magically and happily together. 
After the reading, they would talk 
over The Letter and their dream of 
when The Boy would be home 
again and starting the big task of 
making the farm over into the small 
dairy that was his dream of the fu- 

It was a lovely ritual they made 
of each letter reading. Tonight it 
would be especially pleasant be- 
cause of the brightness and cheer 
and warmth of their house against 
the outdoors cold and storm threat. 
Mommadee loved the small flicker- 
ing of the old range through its 
tiny windows; its spot of warmth in 
these late autumn days when it was 
not time to start up the big furnace, 
and yet too cool to have no fire at 
all. The electric stove which stood 
in shiny whiteness and baffling 
efficiency amongst the many-doored 
cabinets along the kitchen wall, was 
wonderful for summer; it and the 
furnace symbolized the success and 
progress the Hirsches had made; but 
the range symbolized somehow their 
simple, happy contentment and se- 
cure comfort. 

Waiting, a crisp blue-flower-print- 
ed apron tied around her plump 
waist, she moved serenely back and 


forth from range to table, peeking 
occasionally into the oven and into 
the covered skillet where the sau- 
sages lay in luscious brownness. 
When presently she heard steps 
around the house corner, she 
beamed and briskened and began to 
put the food into warmed serving 

"Here you are, Poppadee! Just 
in time you come," she greeted him. 

"I smelled it, Mommadee. It 
brought me by the nose/' he re- 
plied, chuckling. His arm caressed 
her shoulder as he passed. "Just 
let me wash a bit." He went past 
the linen chest and through the lit- 
tle inside hall to the bathroom, 
shedding his denim jacket as he 
called back, "I see we have a Letter 

"Yes, a Letter from The Boy. 
There's something else, too, Poppa- 
dee. Didn't you see?" 

"M'm'm . . . ." It could have 
been a question or an assent, the 
murmur he made through the 
swooshing of water filling the wash- 
bowl. When he came back to the 
kitchen she had food on their plates 
and glasses of hot tomato juice be- 
side them, and was standing by, giv- 
ing the table a last-minute survey to 
make sure everything was right. 

He set her chair for her, smiling 
at her rosiness and placid cheer. It 
was the smile that told her, each 
evening, what a dear good wife she 
was and how lucky he was to have 
her and her good cooked food wait- 
ing for him. 

"It is a photograph, the big one?" 
he asked, glancing at the envelopes 
on the chest. 

"Yes," she replied. Eagerness 
brightened her tone and her round 


blue eyes. "Now don't hurry your 
eating, Poppadee," she warned him. 
"Is plenty of time." 

"Sure, I know." Blue twinkles 
danced between them, sparkling 
with affection. "You be careful, 
Mommadee. Eat slow. Is plenty 
of time." 

This was their way, these small 
jokes at each other to make time 
pass faster, on the occasions when 
a Letter from The Boy was waiting 
to be read. 

UE was a wonderful son, The Boy, 
Herbert. Once, long ago in 
Holland, there had been another 
son and a delightful small daughter; 
but they had died of the "flu" after 
the first great war, and the Hirsches 
had known long, sad, lonely years 
before Herbert came to them. By 
that time they had learned of the 
gospel; and for Herbert they sought 
the better life America offered. For 
"The Boy" they had worked hard 
to build a new home; they had 
learned the new language, the new 
ways, with painstaking care and pa- 
tience; they had been successful and 
happy. The Boy had gone through 
high school, had given two years to 
the service of his country, and now 
was at college learning how to make 
his dreams come true. A good son. 

"There are two photographs, 
Mommadee." Puzzled, Poppadee 
drew them from the envelope. 

"Now why would there be two?" 
his wife wondered. "Maybe differ- 
ent — no, they are the same. One 
for you, one for me, maybe?" She 
was thinking, The Boy should know 
that one would be enough; big 
photographs cost money, and it was 
not like him to spend needless- 
ly ... . She brought her mending 



basket while Poppadee was setting 
the two folders up, side by side on 
the table, admiring them. They 
were handsome photographs; The 
Boy's round, honest, sober face with 
wide clear eyes, a pleasant mouth, 
and neatly brushed light hair. His 
tie was carefully right, his handker- 
chief's corners were exact tiny 
points edging the coat pocket. 
Nothing fancy or arty about the 
pose; it was just a good, ordinary 
likeness of the good, ordinary, seri- 
ous-minded young fellow who was 
Herbert Hirsch— The Boy. 

The Letter began just as all The 
Boy's letters began: "Dear Momma- 
dee and Poppadee — I have not got 
much time but want to let you 
know I am well and hope you are 
the same. Everything is fine with 
me. We had some tests today; I 
guess I won't shine but I got by. 
Don't worry about me, I'm fine but 
I will sure be glad to come home at 
Thanksgiving and have some of 
Mommadee's good cooking. My 
belt fastens two notches tighter, but 
it won't take long to fill it out 

Usually there would be no more 
than that. But this time there was 
a second page, and as Poppadee read 
it the words came slower, and Mom- 
madee's hands stopped their busy 
to-and-fro-ing with the needle and 

"I had my picture taken, had two 
made up, and I'm sending them to 
you today. One is for Gloria Jean 
Steffens, I want you to take it up 
to her because then I'll be sure she 
got it. And maybe you can find out 
why she hasn't written to me for 
so long. She lives at 3197 Elm 
Drive, up on Normandie Heights. 

This is very important to me and I 
hope you can take care of it right 
away. I guess you will know by 
this, that I am in love with Gloria 
Jean, and it makes me very sad and 
blue when I don't hear from her. 
Please see her right away and tell 
me how she is. Your loving son, 

Carefully, with hands that trem- 
bled, Poppadee refolded the Letter 
and put it back into the envelope. 
It was very still in the kitchen now, 
so that a coal falling inside the fire- 
box of the range made a sudden, 
loud-seeming thud. Mommadee's 
plump pink fingers moved again, 
guiding the needle in and out, in 
and out of the cloth, but there was 
a lump in her throat so that no 
words could come through, even if 
she could have thought of words to 

OOPPADEE made a small cough. 
"In love, he says. Is real, you 
think, Mommadee?" 

Her round blue eyes met his. 
"May be. The Boy, he is serious 
kind; no fooling around." 

"Is right. No fooling." Poppa- 
dee's voice was proud. "Well, we 
have something we should do for 
The Boy, Mommadee. Right away, 
he says." He looked at the clock. 
"Seven o'clock is plenty time we go 
now, no?" 

"Of course." Mommadee stood 
up briskly; she folded the cloth and 
laid it back into the basket. "I 
should put on my better dress, I 
think; and you should wear your 
good suit, Poppadee." 

Elm Drive, broad and clean and 
curving handsomely around a 
small circular park bright with 
chrysanthemums, led to houses that 



were big and well-kept, with glimp- 
ses of gardens behind them and 
shiny large cars standing by. Lights 
shone everywhere, as if night were 
not permitted to shadow the bright 
world of Elm Drive. 

"Is fine people here, Poppadee," 
Lena Hirsch said softly as they 
stopped in front of Number 3197. 
'The Boy makes good choice; you 
think so?" 

"The Boy is fine, himself; like 
takes to like," Poppadee responded, 
opening the car door for her and 
helping her out, careful of the 
photograph she was holding, which 
she had rewrapped in white tissue 
paper and tied with a white ribbon. 
Together, they started up to the 
imposing white-doored entrance of 
the house. 

They had reached the top step 
when the door opened suddenly to 
eject a young boy, sixteen perhaps, 
struggling into a leather jacket as 
he came out. He stopped to look 
at the Hirsches with questioning 

"Good evening," Poppadee said. 
"We come to see Miss Gloria Jean 
Steffens, please." 

"Sure; she's here. Come in." The 
boy stepped back into an entrance 
hall all soft carpet and glowing light 
wood, and called up the stairs: 
"Hey, Glor — come down. Some- 
body's to see you." 

"Tell her, is Herbert Hirsch's 
mother and father," Mommadee 
spoke up quickly. 

The boy stared a moment, then 
called, "It's Herbie Hirsch's folks, 
Glor. I'll tell 'em to wait — I gotta 
be going, myself." 

"Have them sit down," came a 
reply. A girl's voice, soft but hold- 

ing surprise and puzzlement. "I'll 
come as soon as I can." 

Side by side in a deep-cushioned 
settee they waited. Mommadee's 
hand crept into Poppadee's. 

"Is nice, this," she said. "See 
how beautiful, Poppadee; the pic- 
tures, and the lamps and carp- 
ets .. . ." 

"All nice. Good housekeeping 
here. Good living." They smiled 
at each other with tender satisfac- 
tion. It would be a good wife who 
came from such a home. 

r PHEN a girl was coming down- 
stairs. She was slender and all 
golden — goldenhaired, golden- 
skinned, amber-eyed, and sheathed 
in a slim gown of gold cloth. A gold 
necklace and matching bracelets 
sparkled with diamond-bright set- 
tings, and gold sandals twinkled 
with each downward step. 

The waiting couple stood up, 

"Hello," the girl smiled brightly. 
"Sorry to make you wait. I— I was 
dressing .... You're Herbie's folks, 
you say? I'm happy to meet you, 
I really am. How is Herbie?" She 
gave them each a cool smooth hand. 

"Is wonderful to meet you/" 
Mommadee said softly. She was re- 
garding this wondrous girl with 
shining wide eyes. What a fine 
daughter Herbert had chosen to 
bring her! "The Boy has told 
us " 

"Asked us to come to see you/' 
Poppadee interrupted. "To bring 
you something." 

"This!" Mommadee thrust the 
package into Gloria Jean's surprised 
hands. "Is very fine picture of 
Herbert, for you." 

"Why — why, that's kind of you 



— to bring it to me." Gloria Jean 
seemed suddenly confused and all 
at once wordless. She untied the 
ribbon and unfolded the tissue. 
"Why, yes, it is fine — very nice, 
of Herbert." 

They beamed at her, happily. 
Until her next words came, reluc- 
tant and hesitantly. 

"But I — he shouldn't have sent 
it .... I mean, I can't accept it." 

"But — no?" Poppadee asked 
after a stunned, silent moment. 

"No. You see, I'm engaged; I'm 
to be married very soon. I thought 
Herbie knew; everybody knew, I've 
had an understanding with Kent 
for a long, long time. I had dates 
with other boys until a few weeks 
ago, but I thought they all under- 
stood how it was. I'm sorry if 
Herbie — didn't." 

"He — did not speak to you of 
his love?" Poppadee questioned 

Mommadee's hands clasped them- 
selves tightly together over her 

"No, never." Gloria Jean shook 
her head; her eyes were clear and 
honest. "Of course, he's such a 
quiet boy, Herbie is. Shy. He'd 
probably find it awfully hard to say 

— words like that, to me. Oh, he's 
a fine boy; truly he is — but I'm 
sorry if he fell in love with me. Be- 
cause — he's not the one I love—" 

Silence hovered around, thick 
with their unspoken thoughts. 
Again it was Poppadee who broke 
it: "So — that is the way of it. Well, 
these things happen, Miss — Miss 
Steffens . . . ." 

"Call me Glory," she said. "All 
my friends do." 

"Glory . . ." he murmured. "Is 
lovely name; is like you. We are 

proud to be friends with you, 

"I'm proud to be friends with 
you, Mr. Hirsch, and Mrs. Hirsch," 
Glory said. "And with Herbie. But 
you'll excuse me if I don't ask you 
to stay now, won't you? I must be 
ready to leave, to go out — in just 
a few minutes." 

"Of course. Mommadee and me, 
we understand." 

"Mommadee — that's cute!" 
Glory said. 

"And it is Poppadee," Momma- 
dee explained. "The Boy — Herb- 
ert _ try to say 'Mamma dear' and 
Tapa dear' when he was learning to 
talk .... So always we keep those 

"You're a darling," Glory mur- 
mured. "Oh — you must take this 
back with you." Gently she put 
the photograph back into Momma- 
dee's hand. "You'll want it, some- 

They understood perfectly her 
meaning: that Herbert's photo- 
graph, and Herbert, could have no 
place in her life. 

QUTSIDE again, they felt older 
and aware that their clothes 
were shabby and cheap by Elm 
Drive standards; they saw their little 
old car as small, incongruous, out- 
classed in all ways, parked beside 
the curb among the splendid late- 
model ones here. It was a relief to 
drive away, to find themselves on 
the older streets among the hetero- 
geneous traffic that was the whole 
city rather than an exclusive section. 
It was greater relief still, to leave 
the city, entering the country lanes 
and quiet acres where night was 
deep-blue-blackness sprinkled only 
sparsely with street lights and oc- 


casional porch lamps or uncurtained 
windows shining out. 

All the way they were silent, their 
dismay and disappointment heavy 
between them. Not until they were 
at home, within the warm comfort 
of the kitchen, did they speak what 
was in their hearts. 

'The Boy — he wants something 
we cannot get for him!" Momma- 
dee said then. "He must be hurt 
.... and . . ." her voice rose in pro- 
test . . . "is nothing we can do, to 
make it right for him!" She shook 
out her handkerchief to wipe away 
tears which would no longer be de- 
nied. Never before, she was think- 
ing, had The Boy asked something 
impossible. Now they must fail 
him, his Mommadee and Poppadee, 
in the most important desire he had 

Poppadee came to help her out of 
her coat; his arms lingered at her 
shoulders in a gesture of comforting. 
"We can stand by, Mommadee. 
The Boy will not be — alone, while 
he needs us. That is something we 
can do. Is not so?" 

"Not — enough!" she protested. 
"Almost I wish he was a child 
again, happy with small toys — and 
to be healed his bruises with kisses." 

"Shame on you, Mommadee! 
Now is a man grown from our son, 
and you would keep him a child!" 

She smiled at him, blinking. "I 
only said, almost I wish so, Poppa- 

"That," he said, "is better. Let 
the tears come if they will; they 
help you, my Lena. But not The 
Boy, you see." 

"The tears I have finished with! 
But my heart it aches for The Boy. 
Love can hurt so terribly . . . ." 
She stood back suddenly, looked 


searchingly into his gentle gaze. 
"You — you do not grieve for him, 
Gustaf! How is?" 

"Oh, a little, Mommadee," he an- 
swered. "There is no need. The 
Boy will be all right. This Gloria 
Jean is not the right girl for him; 
you will see, will come the right 
one, soon maybe." 

"How can you know so surely?" 
she exclaimed. "Sometimes there 
is only one, and always a lonely 
heart . . . ." 

He shook his head. "No," he 
said patiently. "The Boy is like me. 
For me there was one like Gloria 
Jean; a burgomeister's daughter, she 
was. The hurt — oh, it was soon 
over, my Lena." 

"So? .... You never told me 
this, Gustaf." 

"Pshaw," he said. "It was not 
important. I forgot all about her, 
after I found you, my Lena. Only 
then, did I know truly what was 
love, and how to live. Now cease 
the fretting, Mommadee. Every- 
thing will be fine." 

"... Like a man . . ." she mur- 
mured. Not with disapproval, but 
gently and with a sort of wonder. 
She started about the business of 
preparing for the night; she would 
say a special prayer for The Boy, 
that he would bear his hurt bravely 
and be the better for it when the 
new, the true love, came along. 

Now is a man grown, The Boy, 
she repeated softly to herself. When 
his mother and father can no longer 
fulfill his wishes for him, cannot 
shield him from hurts, nor cure 
them with their love and kisses like 
small-boy bumps . . . Oh, now is a 
man grown — when he must stand 
by himself with life, and learn what 
grown men know. 

cJne xjl. gen tine lllission 

Preston Nibley 

TN the fall of 1924, Wilhelm Fredricks and Emil Hoppe, members of the 
Church from Germany, who had moved to Argentina, wrote to the 
Church Authorities in Salt Lake City, asking that missionaries be sent to 
Buenos Aires, as there were a number of converts in that city awaiting bap- 

In September 1925, announcement was made by the First Presidency 
that Melvin J. Ballard of the Council of the Twelve had been appointed 
to open a mission in South America, and that he would proceed to Buenos 
Aires, after the October Conference, accompanied by Rulon S. Wells and 
Rey L. Pratt of the First Council of Seventy. Elder Wells spoke the Ger- 
man language and Elder Pratt the Spanish. 

The above named brethren arrived in Buenos Aires on Sunday, De- 
cember 6, 1925, and were met by Brothers Fredricks and Hoppe. One week 
later Elder Ballard baptized six persons in the Rio de la Plata. They were 
''the first fruits of the restored Gospel in South America." On December 
25, 1925 (Christmas day) the three brethren from Salt Lake City, together 
with eight members of the Church, met in the Park 3 De Febrero at 
Buenos Aires, and Elder Ballard offered a prayer, dedicating the land of 
South America to the preaching of the gospel. 

Photograph submitted by Amy Y. Valentine 

A small village in the northern part of the Sierra Chicas (small hills) of Cordoba, 

Page 22 



Photograph submitted by Amy Y. Valentine 

In the Province of Buenos Aires, Argentina 

Elder Ballard returned to Utah in 1926 and was succeeded by Elder 
Reinhold Stoof, as president of the South American Mission, with head- 
quarters in Buenos Aires. A separate mission was formed in Argentina in 
1935, with W. Ernest Young as president. He was succeeded by F. S. Wil- 
liams in 1938; President Williams was succeeded by James L. Barker in 
1942; President Barker was succeeded by W. Ernest Young in 1944. Presi- 
dent Young presided until 1949, and was succeeded by Harold Brown who 
presided until 1952; he was succeeded by Lee B. Valentine, who presides 
at the present time. There are now twenty-nine branches of the Church 
in Argentina with approximately 1,400 members. Twenty-one Relief So- 
ciety organizations were reported in 1954. Amy Y. Valentine is now presi- 
dent of the Argentine Mission Relief Society. 

The Living Gifts 

Dorothy Boys Kilian 

KICK Extrom stood at the 
front window looking gloom- 
' ily out past the bare black 
trees and the snowy slope to the 
silent sawmill on the river bank. 

"If I could only get a few odd 
jobs somewhere/' he sighed, "so I 
could pick up a little extra cash." 

His wife, Greta, came in from the 
adjoining kitchen, broom in hand, 
and laid a warm hand on his arm. 
"I know what you're thinking, 
Rick," she said softly. "But you 
mustn't to-ture yourself because we 
don't have money for Pete's Christ- 
mas presents this year. He knows 
that, with the mill closed down 
temporarily, it's a hard winter for 
all of us." 

Rick turned unhappy eyes to her. 
"Maybe he knows, yes, Greta, but 
you can't expect a five-year-old real- 
ly to understand an empty stock- 
ing . . . . 

"Tosh, it won't be empty," Greta 
protested. "There's that bushel 
basket of Winesaps we got from the 
lodge orchard, and the nuts you 
gathered along Old Mill Road. And 
I'm going to bake gingerbread men 
tonight, such nice, plump, big 
ones . . . ." Her voice trembled to 
a stop. 

"Greta, don't!" Rick groaned. 
"I'd almost feel better if you'd 
whack me over the head with that 
broom, for being such a fool." 

"I don't happen to think you are 
a fool, Mr. Extrom . . . else why 
would I have married you?" Greta 
returned with spirit. 

Rick grinned and squeezed her 


hand. "You know what I mean, 
though," he insisted. "If I hadn't 
been such a pighead about staying 
here in Woodville when Uncle Gus 
offered me that janitor's job in 
Chicago . . . ." 

"You said you'd rather stay in the 
village where we've always lived, 
you and I, Rick, and where we know 
how, with the Lord's help, to bring 
up our boy to be a fine, strong man. 
You said," Greta reminded him, 
"that with your job as caretaker for 
the lodge, we'd probably get along 
better and be happier than with a 
full-time job in the city, living in 
a tiny, dark apartment . . . ." 

"Oh, sure," Rick interrupted, "I 
had fine, brave ideas. But it wasn't 
Christmas Eve then." 

"Since when is Christmas Eve a 
time to stop being fine and brave?" 
Greta asked indignantly. "You go 
along now, Rick, before it gets dark. 
Take Pete's sled and get that fir 
they promised you from the lodge 
grounds. At least the boy '11 have 
a tree . . . and maybe something 
more." She looked over at the little 
wooden creche figures carefully set 
up on the living-room table. "Some- 
how," she said, smiling at her hus- 
band, "it's just not in me to feel 
hopeless about anything on Christ- 
mas Eve." 

AS Rick strode down the lane to- 
wards the lodge, the crunch, 
crunch of his boots on the hard- 
packed snow seemed to be saying 
"fool— fool— soft-hearted fool . . . ." 
He knew that it wasn't just for 



Pete's sake that he'd stayed on here. 
It was also because he loved the 
sound of the river-wind sighing, as 
it was now, through the pines, loved 
the glittering beauty of white fields 
touched by the slanting rays of the 
late afternoon sun, would miss, 
painfully, the quiet peacefulness of 
a man alone on a road in his very 
own countryside .... 

He shrugged his shoulders and 
opened the gates of the lodge 
grounds. Through the trees he 
saw the building itself ablaze with 
lights as the December day drew in. 
Several families, he knew, had come 
up with their children for a country 
holiday. What would Peter think 
tomorrow when he saw the elab- 
orate gifts those youngsters would 
surely receive! 

Well, he'd at least have a Christ- 
mas tree; the grove behind the lodge 
needed thinning. Rick picked up 
the axe from the sled and looked 
around him. Deciding on a shape- 
ly balsam fir about his own height, 
he began, with his foot, to scrape 
the snow away from the base of its 
trunk. Then he pulled the mitten 
off his right hand and ran his fingers 
carefully along the blade of the axe. 

As he raised the gleaming tool to 
swing, and faced the tree directly, 
he stared at its lustrous green need- 
les, its dark purple cones standing 
erect like candles on its upper 
branches. Then, in a flash, he saw 
that same tree a month from now, 
lying forlornly on the ash heap by 
the back fence, brittle, brown, life- 
less. Slowly he lowered the axe, 
laid it on the sled and scuffed off 
through the grove to get a shovel 
from the shed back of the lodge. 

It took some time to get the fir 

on to the sled in just the condition 
he wanted it; the sun had now gone 
down and the winter dusk was rap- 
idly turning to night. 

Just as he was ready to leave, he 
heard a rustling sound nearby. Peer- 
ing through the gloom he saw a 
rabbit huddled under a bush, its 
eyes glazed with fear,, one hind leg 
stretched out unnaturally straight. 
Apparently, it had gotten loose from 
a trap, with a broken leg. 

"DICK himself had often snared 
rabbits. But, somehow, this 
was different ... it was Christmas 
Eve, and the little animal had made 
a brave escape. Tenderly and care- 
fully, he picked it up and tucked it 
under one arm. Then, pulling the 
sled rope with his other hand, he 
started home. 

At the bend of the road, near the 
river, a gray shadow crossed his path, 
then stopped at his feet. A tiny, 
thin kitten, meowing piteously, 
rubbed its back against his boots. 

"You been deserted on a cold 
night like this?" Rick asked softly. 
He hesitated a moment, then 
dropped the sled rope and scooped 
the furry little thing up into his 
jacket pocket. 

The lights of his own cottage, 
usually so warm and beckoning, 
this time only reminded him of his 
problem. As he opened the kitchen 
door he sniffed the fresh, tangy odor 
of newly popped corn. That would 
be Greta preparing trimmings for 
the tree. She never failed to do her 
part. If only he might have come 
through with something .... 

"I got the tree all right," he said, 
standing motionless on the gray and 
red braided rug just inside the door. 
"And see," he looked down ruefully 



at the animals, "two more mouths 
to feed. Don't bother to say it, I 
know I'm hopeless." 

"They won't eat much," Greta 
said lightly, putting an old towel 
down behind the wood stove for the 
kitten to cuddle on. 

She stayed on her knees for a 
long moment, gently stroking the 
tiny animal's back. When she got 
up she said eagerly, "Did Peter see 
you when you came in just now?" 

"No, why?" 

"Rick," Greta's eyes were shining, 
"do you realize what's happened?" 

"W AIT LL you see what l §otr 

Rick heard Peter shout ex- 
citedly late Christmas morning as 
he brought two little boys from the 
lodge out into the kitchen. 

"What'd you get?" the boys 

"Present number one," crowed 
Peter, pointing behind the stove 
where the kitten, with a huge, slight- 
ly chewed, red bow around its neck, 
slumbered peacefully. 

The boys stooped down to pat the 
cuddly little animal, but Peter was 
already at the back door. "Come 
on," he called impatiently, "this way 
for number two." 

He led the way out to the back 
porch where stood a wooden cage 
made from two apple crates and 

some wire screen. Dozing contented- 
ly in a corner, a splint tied with red 
and green ribbon to one hind leg, 
a carrot between its front paws, 
was the rabbit. 

"Boy!" Peter's friends breathed in 

"Even our Christmas tree is 
alive," Peter finished exultantly. 
"Come look." 

Rick followed the children into 
the living room and looked with 
them at the little fir set in a wash- 
tub full of dirt, its cones touched 
with silver paint, its branches deco- 
rated with red cranberry chains and 
dazzling white popcorn balls. 

"We're going to plant it out in 
the front yard next week, so we'll 
have it always," Peter explained hap- 
pily. "See what I meant when I 
told you I had a very special Christ- 
mas this year? A living Christmas, 
that's what Mommy called it." 

Rick moved close to Greta, who 
was standing by the table, smilingly 
fingering the little figures at the 

"Peter's right," he said gratefully. 
"This was your idea." 

"But it was you who brought 
home these things," Greta an- 
swered warmly. "See what Christ- 
mas Eve brings to people with soft, 
foolish hearts!" 



Miriam W. Wright 

The tapestry of truth brightens with time, 
For threads of truth endure. Hands should define 
And cast aside the skeins which weave so soon 
A fabric of deceit. 
Guard well thy loom. 

Willard Luce 

With Mount Timpanogos in the Background 


ew years \jjay 

Christie Lund Coles 


The breaking day is luminous and bright 

As the New Year gilding the horizon's rim; 

And all the snowy earth is touched with light, 

As diamonds sparkle on each furry limb; 

The slender icicles are crystal clear, 

As they catch and hold the sequins wrought by sun; 

The arch of sky is after-snow-storm near. 

The snow is webbed, and delicately spun. 

What an exultant morning, what a day, 
What an expectant hour to start again, 
With bounteous nature heralding the way, 
Transmuting all to beauty and to gain. 

Gone is the night, the sorrow of the past. 

The New Year dawns. Oh, hold its promise fast! 

Page 27 

Swiss cJemple cJable ^Arrangement 

Yale Second Ward, Bonneville Stake 

Inez R. Allen 

npHERE is always joy and happiness when it is again time to c@mmence our Relief 
■1 Society activities. Every member comes ready and willing to help with the opening 

Hal Rumel 


Our Heavenly Father has so generously distributed his gifts and talents among 
us that great things may be accomplished if we but try. At our opening social last 
September, the air was full of news and reports of the European trip of the Tabernacle 
Choir. For this reason we chose as our theme: "The Temple in Switzerland." 

Sister Emma Ray Riggs McKay who had just returned from the dedication of 
the new temple, graciously accepted the invitation to be our guest speaker. It was as 
if a mother were speaking to her own family of daughters, and we loved her for it. 

To create the atmosphere of Switzerland, three lovely Swiss dolls, dressed in cos- 
tume, were placed among roses and fern by the side of the pulpit. To the left was 
displayed the red and white national flag of that country, while our own Stars and 
Stripes proudly reigned over the whole picture. 

Displaying the two flags seemed to bring about a feeling of unity between the two 

Page 28 


countries. The musical program correlated with the theme and seemed to transport us 
to Switzerland. 

After the program, refreshments were served in the amusement hall. 

The above picture was the center of the serving table, and as Sister McKay ap- 
proached she exclaimed, "The Temple!" The cake in the shape of the temple was 
made of delicious white cake with pineapple filling. Brother Martin Backer made and 
donated it to our Relief Society. Small geranium blossoms were used to represent the 
flower gardens, while shrubs and real grass finished the landscape. 

The two adjoining tables from which tasty refreshments were served, finished the 

When each member does her bit to help and is generous in donating, everything 
moves along harmoniously and with little expense. The cake was well preserved and 
kept until the next Tuesday when it was cut and served to all the members. 

[Recipes from Jtrgentina 

Keith F. Thompson 

Tuco (Sauce) 

For serving with spaghetti, tallarines, and pastries. 

Proportions may be varied to suit individual taste. Simmering of the sauce should 
begin three to four hours before serving time, as long simmering improves the flavor. 

3 or more pork chops (according to number to be served). Brown the chops in 
butter or other fat and cook until nearly done. 
Place pork chops in kettle and add: 

1 small onion 2 small tomatoes peeled 

i medium-sized carrot l A tsp. nutmeg 

Vi green pepper i Vi tsp. salt 

3 cloves of garlic !4 tsp. white pepper 

When the mixture has simmered until it becomes thickened, add: 

i six-ounce can tomato paste 

2/4 c. water 
Continue simmering until time for serving, three to four hours in all. 


To be served with Tuco (Sauce) 

Mix together: 

i c. white flour 

1 e gg 

Vz tsp. salt 

Add enough water to knead into a dough like pie crust. 
Potatoes, butter, or milk may be added to suit taste. 
Roll out on board and cut into narrow strips like spaghetti. 

Place strips in boiling water, salted to taste, and boil fifteen to twenty minutes, 
according to size of strips. 

Sixty LJears S/igo 

Excerpts From the Woman's Exponent, January 1, and January 15, 1896 

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

Nov., we left for Bunkerville, crossing the Rio Virgin a great number of times. When 
we were nearing Bunkerville, the braces on our carriage tongue broke and left us in the 
river; through the kindness of our esteemed friend George F. Jarvis, we were carried 
out and landed on terra firma .... We met with the Relief Society sisters. They own 
a lot containing an almond orchard also a granary, and something over a hundred bush- 
els of wheat. We advised them to make what improvements they could and turn 
their almonds into grain, and store it against the time of need .... 

— Ann C. Woodbury 


(on Her Birthday) 

From ev'ry saint that dwelleth here, 
From saints that long this land to see, 
This day is wafted heavenward 
Remembrances and prayers for thee. 
From weary march and roofless camp 
Unto the temples famed and grand 
Thy feet trod first the barrenness 
And to His houses lent thy hand. 

— Augusta Joyce Crocheron 

WOMAN'S SUFFRAGE ASSOCIATION: The W.S.A. of Parowan held an 
exultation meeting the evening of the seventh. It was a general time of rejoicing. The 
house was filled to o'er flowing as it generally is at the meetings of the W.S.A. The 
room was neatly decorated for the occasion. After the opening exercises yellow ribbon 
badges were passed to all present. The program consisted of speeches, songs, music 
from the orchestra and band. Many were called on for sentiments or expressions of their 

feelings on this joyful occasion (the granting of statehood to Utah) 

—J. M. L. 


After seasons of storm-cloud and sunshine 
Close the year with unerring pace, 
The traces of pleasure or trial 
Are written on mind, heart and face. 
Again we pause for a reckoning — 
Contrition, and solemn resolve; 
Sweet conscience silently beckoning 
While many new plans we evolve, 
That will chasten, uplift, and inspire 
To feelings more pure and divine . . . 
— E. R. Shipp 

Page 30 

Woman's Sphere 

Ramona W. Cannon 

HTHE women of the Philippines 
are extraordinarily progressive. 
Usually the business managers in 
their households, they are often also 
joint managers with their husbands, 
of business enterprises. The percent- 
age of women physicians, surgeons, 
dentists, pharmacists, lawyers, and 
professors is much higher than in 
the United States. In the College 
of Liberal Arts, University of the 
Philippines, thirty-five per cent of 
the faculty are women— a three or 
four times higher percentage than 
in most co-educational institutions 
in the United States. Although it 
was 1937 before female suffrage 
came to the Philippines, two-fifths 
of the voters in 1953 were women. 

er of Long Island's Newsday, is 
a brilliant journalist. She represents 
the fourth generation of the Medill, 
Patterson, McCormick journalistic 
dynasty. Stormy Colonel Robert R. 
McCormick, recently deceased, and 
his cousin, Joseph Patterson, pub- 
lished the Chicago Tribune upon 
the death of their famous grand- 
father, Joseph Medill, a great 
journalist. "Bazy" Miller Tankers- 
ley, former Washington Times-Her- 
ald editor, another woman-of-the- 
family newspaper star, is a niece of 
Colonel McCormick. 

Salt Lake City, a frequent con- 
tributor to The Relief Society Mag- 
azine, has been awarded first place 
in a recent national contest of the 
American Poetry League, with the 
poem "Greenwich: 1390 a.d." 

jyt RS. AGNES JUST REID, long 
a contributor to The Relief 
Society Magazine, is one of twenty- 
five women photographed and 
quoted in Lite Magazine (October 
3, 1955) as responding to Anne 
Morrow Lindbergh's philosophy, ex- 
pressed in her recent book, Gift 
from the Sea. Each explains her 
own method of finding inner peace 
and satisfaction. 

Birthday congratulations are ex- 
tended to: Mrs. Emma Bandley, 
Salt Lake C if y, one hundred; Mrs. 
Eliza Drake McManus, Ogden, 
Utah, one hundred; Mrs. Janet Bu- 
chanan Evans, Salt Lake City, 
ninety-three; Mrs. Mary Ann Reese, 
Paragonah, Utah, ninety-three; Mrs. 
Annie M. Whitehead, Logan, Utah, 
ninety-two; Mrs. Mary Eliza James, 
Phoenix, Arizona, ninety-two; Mrs. 
Stene Christiansen Jensen, Salt 
Lake City, ninety-one; Mrs. Agnes 
Power Vincent, Salt Lake City, 
ninety; Mrs. Carrie A. Niccolls, 
Phoenix, Arizona, ninety; Mrs. 
Mary Ellen McElroy Hawthorne, 
Salt Lake City, ninety. 

Page 31 


VOL. 43 


NO. 1 

(greetings for the I Lew LJear 

CXNCE more we greet the dawn of 
a New Year. Another page of 
our life history, filled with the 
events of everyday living, is ready to 
be turned. Let us review the page 
of life written this past year, for the 
purpose of taking stock of ourselves 
and our possessions, to determine if 
we have been wise stewards, and to 
aid us in our resolve to do better in 
the coming year. 

What of ourselves? Have we 
been what we professed to be? Have 
we been what people thought we 
were? Were we true to God, true 
to our fellow men, true to ourselves? 
Are we satisfied with what we have 
accomplished in the year just gone? 

What of our possessions? Have 
we expended our means profitably 
in assisting to build the kingdom of 
God? Have we treasured our time 
and sanctified it in service to our 
fellow men? Have our talents been 
left unused, or have they increased 
because we have used them for the 
benefit and blessing of others? Have 
we hidden away or selfishly used 
that which has been conferred upon 
us, thus deserving to have with- 
drawn that which was entrusted to 
us, or have we been wise stewards 
and profitable servants, deserving of 
additional blessings? Only the Be- 
stower of our gifts, can judge. 

Page 32 

Let us turn the leaf. Before us 
lies a clean, new page, ready to re- 
ceive whatever record we choose to 
make. How full of promise it ap- 
pears, for most of us are prospective- 
ly good at the beginning of the year! 
We enjoin ourselves to reform from 
our bad habits of the past, and we 
determine to take upon ourselves a 
multitude of new virtues. It is well 
to aspire, to make good resolutions, 
but we should bear in mind that no 
matter how earnestly we resolve, we 
cannot overcome well-established 
habits merely by resolving to do so. 
Neither can we remake ourselves 

So, in making our resolutions this 
New Year, let us be sure that they 
are such as we can keep, overcoming 
our faults one at a time, improving 
here a little, there a little, one step 
at a time, until we approach the 
goal set by the Savior when he said, 
"Be ye therefore perfect." Only 
with the spirit of the Lord can we 
attain that goal, so let us, above all 
else, resolve to seek earnestly for the 
spirit of the Lord, that we may 
write upon this year's page of life a 
history of achievement better than 
we have been able to do in any prev- 
ious year, earning from our Father 
in heaven the plaudit, "Well and 
faithfully done." 

-V. N. S. 

SJn 1 1 iemortam — ibmeline LJoung I tebeker 

I^MELINE Young Nebeker, former member of the general board of 
Relief Society, died Monday, November 7th, in New York City. Sister 
Nebeker, a resident of Salt Lake City, had recently returned from Europe 
and was visiting with her daughter, Mrs. Sam D. (Emeline) Thurman. 
Funeral services for Sister Nebeker were conducted in the Twelfth Ward, 
University Stake, Salt Lake City, November 12, 1955. 

Emeline Young Nebeker was born September 27, 1875, a daughter of 
Hyrum S. and Georgiana Fox Young, and was a granddaughter of Brigham 
Young. She was married to Walter D. Nebeker in 1900, and became the 
mother of two children: W. Dilworth Nebeker and Emeline Nebeker 

Sister Nebeker faithfully served the Church for many years in the 
Primary, the Young Woman's Mutual Improvement Association, and in 
Relief Society. She became a member of the general board of Relief So- 
ciety in 1929 and served with outstanding ability until 1939. Gifted with 
the qualities of gracious leadership, she was beloved by Relief Society wom- 
en throughout the Church, and her inspirational addresses will long be 
remembered. Generous with her time and talents, she discharged with 
exceptional ability many civic and community responsibilities. Her kind 
ministrations were a blessing to her family and her friends, and the ex- 
ample of her 'works of compassion and charity" are as a memorial to her 
sisters in Relief Society. She is remembered with love and appreciation. 

Covers of the [Relief Society lllagazine vis ill creature 

lllissions v^Jutsiae Continental LLnitea States 

Beginning with the cover for this issue, "Mountain Vista in the Na- 
tional Park Near Bariloche, by the Nahuel Huapi Lake, Argentina," The 
Relief Society Magazine will feature covers from the missions of the 
Church outside the continental United States. Short histories of the 
respective missions will be presented in connection with the covers. Note 
the summarized history of the Argentine Mission on page 22 of this issue, 
and the "Recipes From Argentina," on page 29. 

/lew Serial cJhere 0/5 Still cJime to [Begin 

in QJeoruary 

Anew serial "There Is Still Time" by Margery S. Stewart will begin in the February 
issue of The ReHef Society Magazine. The story concerns a strange dream which 
has a significant meaning for Elizabeth Anderson, her husband Brent, and their children. 
Only after the patten «~f t^eir lives has been greatly changed does Elizabeth realize 
abiding joy in their family life. 

Margery S. Stewart has written several serials, many short stories, and a number of 
excellent poems for the Magazine. Her work reveals a most careful selection and use of 
words and vivid character portrayal. 

Page 33 



IRelief Society J/Lssigned (overling 1 1 Lee ting of 
CJast Sunday in ft larch 

nPHE Sunday night meeting to be held on Fast Day, March 4, 1956, has 
again been assigned by the First Presidency for use by the Relief 

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. 

JLesson vi/ork for Spanish-Speaking [Relief Societies 
ana Kyther 1 1 linonty (groups in Stakes 

OELIEF Society lessons for Spanish-speaking Relief Societies are now 

translated at Church Headquarters and printed in pamphlet form. 
These pamphlets are on sale at The Relief Society General Board Office, 
40 North Main Street, for 64 cents per copy, postpaid. 

The pamphlet contains theology and visiting teacher messages used 
in the English-speaking wards in 1954-55; the second year of The Restora- 
tion of All Things, by President Joseph Fielding Smith, in lieu of the litera- 
ture course; and the third year of The Signs of the Times by President 
Joseph Fielding Smith in lieu of the social science course. 

For Lamanite organizations in stakes which do not follow the outlined 
courses presented in The Relief Society Magazine and which do not speak 
Spanish, these same lessons may be followed through writing to the gen- 
eral board for the annual previews in English to The Restoration of All 
Things and The Signs of the Times. 

Where it is felt that these lessons are not suitable for minority groups, 
then it is left to the good judgment of each Relief Society stake board, in 
consultation with the stake president, to choose and plan lessons which 
will be particularly suited to a particular group. Where a stake Relief 
Society has a collection of volumes of The Relief Society Magazine, it is 
usually possible to find suitable lesson work through a careful evaluation 
of past lessons which will have significance in the lives of these sisters, since 

Page 34 


Relief Society lessons published over the years have dealt with a great 
variety of subject matter prepared for use in both stake and mission organ- 

KjLvoara Subscriptions ^Presented in ^yLpril 

HTHE 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 1955 will be mailed to 
ward and stake Magazine representatives about April 1, 1956. 

{Bound volumes of 1Q55 IRelief Society f/Lagazines 

"DELIEF Society officers and members who wish to have their 1955 
issues of The Relief Society Magazine bound may do so through The 
Deseret News Press, 31 Richards Street, Salt Lake City, 1, Utah. The 
cost for binding the twelve issues in a permanent cloth binding is $2.50, 
including the index. If a leather binding is preferred, the cost is $3.50. 
See schedules of postage rates in this issue of the Magazine, page 72. If 
bound volumes are desired, and the Magazine cannot be supplied by the 
person making the request, the Magazines will be supplied for $1.50 by the 
Magazine Department, General Board of Relief Society, 40 North Main 
Street, Salt Lake City, Utah. Only a limited number of Magazines are 
available for binding. 

It is recommended that wards and stakes have one volume of the 1955 
Magazines bound for preservation in ward and stake Relief Society li- 

isLt 1 1 lidnight, ^Juecember Q/hirtu-first 

Katherine F. Larsen 

White in the chime-begun year 

Snow swirls incessantly, silently there 

Beyond the glass, covering mistakes, softening harsh fact 

To make an ideal world. Lean on my shoulder, dear, 

Let us look together out into the whorl of storm. 

If I have in that spent year of days 

Done other than I should have, or in any act 

Or word offended, let your forgiveness cover it 

As does this snow all bleakness, all raw forms. 

Take my hand; let us begin as if over again, 

Telling each other silently by our nearness 

How far we have come, together; 

And how our hearth's fire we knelt and lit together, 

Tongues of fire crackling at our backs, 

And warming. 


o\v to 


cJhe IKelief Society 1 1 lagaztne 
Dr. Royal L. Garff 

Professor of Speech and Selling, University of Utah 

THERE is a rule that sharply 
separates the order taker 
from the salesman. It em- 
phasizes that the order taker "sells 
only things/ 7 while the "creative 
salesman sells ideas about things'— 
ideas that make for health, educa- 
tion, happiness, income, and se- 

An order taker for The Relief 
Society Magazine would merely ask 
the sisters to subscribe as a duty, a 
favor, or to help them get a per- 
centage, by saying, "You wouldn't 
like to take The Relief Society Mag- 
azine, would you?" 

The Relief Society Magazine, like 
all good products, has to be sold, if 
an acceptable circulation is to be 
achieved; and those imaginative, 
energetic sisters who sell it will sell 
not a magazine, but its value of 
knowledge, culture, and spirituality. 
They will sell pleasant hours and 
the value of building character and 
a home, and the joy of developing 
the talents of children. They will 
show how the Magazine contains 
material for two-and-a-half minute 
talks and priceless ideas and helps 
on home-building and life-building. 
They will take carefully chosen 
copies of the Magazine along with 
them as they work for subscrip- 
tions, and point out specific articles, 
poems, and choice bits that every 
sister will desire to possess. They 
will show how these treasures may 
be had for less than fifteen cents a 
month — the price of an ice-cream 

Page 36 

cone or a couple of pieces of candy. 
They will paint pictures of benefits, 
advantages, and values in the mind 
of the subscriber that will greatly 
exceed the price. 

Why do we need salespersons for 
so fine a publication? Because peo- 
ple do not see what they look at. 
They see an expenditure of careful- 
ly saved money or just so much type 
and paper. The desire to subscribe 
develops onlv when the features of 
the Magazine are pictured as bene- 
fits by a sincere, cheerful, enthusias- 
tic, and persuasive salesperson. 

To do a topflight job of selling 
your excellent Magazine, excel in 
these suggestions: 

i. Get to work at once and see all your 
prospects immediately — don't delay or 
proceed hit or miss. Pitch in, anticipate 
success, banish discouragement and a nega- 
tive attitude, radiate enthusiasm and joy 
in the work. And do it now! 

2. When people hesitate and refuse to 
subscribe, ask "Why?" Find out the 
real objection. Then, answer it in a 
pleasant, calm manner. Use facts, testi- 
monials, and brief stories that show how 
and why those who subscribe benefit. 
Under no circumstances get into an argu- 

When you have completed your 
presentation of the benefits to be 
enjoyed from subscribing, when you 
have taken the dark glasses from 
your prospect's eyes and enabled her 
to see what she will lose if she de- 
prives herself of the Magazine, sug- 
gest that she subscribe now! And 



give her a choice between two al- 
ternatives, either of which will re- 
sult in a subscription. Don't ask 
her to choose between something 
and nothing. Help her decide not 
between subscribing or not subscrib- 
ing, but between such alternatives 

Should the subscription begin with next 
month's issue or the following one? 

Should the subscription come in the 
name of Mrs. Frank Smith or Mrs. Ruth 
Smith? and so on. 

Apply these simple principles of 
good salesmanship and observe how 
much easier the work of getting 
subscriptions is— and how greatly 
your subscribers increase, and with 
less effort. 

Now, go to work, and have fun! 

[Polio Usn t JLicked Ljet 

Basil O'Connor 

President, The National Foundation for Infantile Paralysis 

Many people mistakenly believe that, now that we have an effective polio vaccine, 
the fight against the disease is over and there is no further need for the March of Dimes. 

Polio Isn't Licked Yet. This theme of the 1956 March of Dimes seeks to drive 
home the fact that the fight against polio must continue unabated even though a March 
of Dimes vaccine has been developed, tested, and administered to several million children. 

Polio Isn't Licked Yet. Why? Because we cannot forget the polio victims of yes- 
terday, today, and, yes, tomorrow .... Because vital March of Dimes research must 
continue .... Because the training of desperately needed medical and scientific people 
must go on until polio is really licked. 

Polio Isn't Licked Yet. But the reading and listening habits of this busy nation are 
such that the phrase Salk vaccine automatically means to many that the end of polio is 
already with us. Of course, no success comes this quickly and it would be a desperate 
tragedy if true success were delayed by such a misconception. 

Polio challenges still confronting the American people include: 

1. Continued scientific research to improve the vaccine and to find ways to over- 
come crippling left bv the disease itself. 

2. Assistance to the tens of thousands of persons already stricken with polio and 
to those who will come down with the disease before the vaccine is universally used. 

3. Professional education to increase the number of skilled heads and hands in polio 
hospitals and laboratories. 

4. Education to increase public demand for polio protection. 

In all candor, continued progress toward the eventual control of polio can proceed 
at full speed only if people realize that we still have a long way to go. And even as I 
thank you for all your past cooperation, I appeal to you anew to throw your full support 
behind the 1956 March of Dimes. 

The Closed Circle 

Beatrice Rordame Parsons 

EIGHT-year-old Kenny came 
rushing into the kitchen 
from outdoors. His galoshes 
dripped messily on Sybil's newly 
scrubbed linoleum. His face was 
alight with eagerness. 

''Can we buy a Christmas tree? 
They've got 'em in over at the 
store! Can we . . . Mother?" There 
was a tiny, uncertain pause before 
the word. 

Sybil's heart twisted. She wasn't 
the children's mother. Not their 
real mother. But she so wanted to 
be. Not that she wanted to take 
their mother's place in their hearts. 
She only wanted to earn a love of 
her own. 

Kenny was already on his way 
into the living room. 'Til ask 
Daddy," cried Kenny, and in an- 
other moment Sybil heard his voice 
urging his father to buy a tree be- 
fore they were all picked over. 

Sybil shivered with sudden cold, 
knowing what Paul was about to 
tell the children. He'd called them 
all into the living room to tell 
them. Yet Sybil knew how reluc- 
tant he was to speak. 

Dan and Danielle, Paul's sixteen- 
year-old twins were making gay 
plans for the holidays. 

"Ski-ing!" laughed Danielle, and 
through the archway Sybil could 
see her blue eyes brighten as she 
tossed her shining blond hair back 
from her face. 

"Skating!" shouted Dan, and his 
eyes matched his sister's. His blond 
hair was cut into a very short crew, 
and his long legs moved like pis- 
tons as he walked about the room. 

Page 38 

Twelve-year-old Elna had other 
plans. "I'm going to all the mov- 
ies! With Helen. We've got a 
crush on Boyd Lawson. He's 

Kenny tugged at his father's 
sleeve. "Can we buy a tree? Can 

Paul's face was pale, tense as he 
sat in his wheel chair, the cast he 
was wearing heavy and uncomfort- 
able about his body. His voice was 

"Before we talk about the tree, 
Kenny, there's something I want to 
discuss." His voice was low, and 
Sybil could not hear the exact 

But she knew them by heart. She 
and Paul had talked it over that 
very afternoon. Paul hated to dash 
his children's plans, but Paul wasn't 
a man to shirk his duty. He was a 
commercial airline pilot. An acci- 
dent had put him in the hospital 
for weeks, then at home in a wheel 
chair and cast. Paul was worried 
with expenses. Now that his tone 
was less muffled, she could hear 
what he was saying. 

"It's not that we're broke. Just 
bent. My accident wasn't entirely 
covered by my insurance. You 
know how I feel about debt. I can't 
afford to send Dan and Danielle to 
Brighton for the Christmas Holi- 
days . . . ." 

Kenny broke in shrilly: "Can't 
we have a tree?" 

Paul's smile tried to reassure 
them. "Of course we'll have a 
tree. And a merry Christmas!" 

"Without presents?" insisted 



Kenny, and his voice sounded hol- 

"A few," promised Paul, and his 
own voice sounded strange. 

pLNA'S face was stricken. "But 
I was planning! . . ." She was 
close to tears. "Oh, Daddy, isn't 
there some way we can have all the 
things we want?" 

Paul shook his head slowly. "Not 
this Christmas, darling." He burst 
out: "It makes me feel . . . ." He 
skipped that and said quietly: 
"Maybe there is a way. All of you 
worked at odd jobs during the sum- 
mer " 

"You mean our piggy banks!" 
squealed Elna, rushing to hug him 
in spite of the cast. 

Kenny's shout was triumphant. 
"Then I can still buy my 'lectric 

Elna's face was wreathed in 
smiles. "Just oodles of skirts and 
blouses for my money!" 

Dan and Danielle caught the 
spirit. Danielle said laughingly: 
"That blue frock in Rogers' win- 
dow. Warren's taking me to the 
Christmas Prom. He thinks I look 
keen in blue!" 

Dan spread his legs wide apart, 
and his eyes sparkled. "I'll bet I've 
enough for a down payment on that 
sweet little chassis over on the used 
car lot." 

Kenny squealed: "Let's put to- 
gether and buy the biggest tree at 
the grocery store." His face fell, 
and he said uncertainlv: "What 
about Christmas dinner? Are we 
going to have a turkey?*" 

Paul smiled. He saw Sybil stand- 
ing quietly in the background. 
"Your mother will see to the tur- 

key," he promised. He put out his 
hand to draw Sybil into the circle. 
It widened. But it didn't close. 
Sybil sat at Paul's side, and knew 
that she had spoiled things once 
again. For a moment no one spoke. 
Then Kenny headed for the kitchen 
with his piggy bank. 

"Where's the hammer?" He 
shouted, and the others went to 
help him find it. There was the 
loud sound of shattered plaster, 
laughter, as nickles, pennies, and 
quarters spilled over the kitchen 

Paul put out his good arm and 
pulled Sybil closer. He was very 
relieved. "Well, that's over," he 
said, and let his breath out in a big 

Sybil leaned her head against his 
arm. She loved him too deeply to 
remind him that the children had 
acted very selfishly. 

Not a word about gifts for each 
other, for their father, for Sybil. 
They had thought only of what 
they wanted. She hoped Paul 
wouldn't see. Her voice was gay, 

"We'll have lots of packages un- 
der the tree, Paul. I'll talk with 
the children. Make plans. I can 
sew." She was as excited as a child, 
and her brown eyes glowed happily. 

Paul put his lips tenderly against 
her warm cheek and kissed her. His 
own eyes were shining happily as 
he told her: "The doctor's promised 
I'll be out of this cast in time to 
help trim the tree." 

Like Elna, she hugged him ferv- 
ently, laughing because his cast was 
so unyielding. Tears and stars were 
mixed together in her eyes, and her 
voice was gentle. 



"Oh, Paul! Merry Christmas! 
Having you well and strong again is 
all the Christmas I want." 

She giggled a little, and forgave 
the children. She was being selfish, 

A couple of days later when the 
children came tramping through 
the snow after school, they went 
straight to the living room for a 
conference with their father. Sybil, 
knowing that she did not belong, 
stayed quietly in the background, 
reading her magazine. 

But she could not fail to hear, 
for Elna's tone was shrill, stricken. 

"Oh, Daddy! I can only buy one 
skirt, and one blouse with my piggy 

Danielle sounded just as miser- 
able. "I can't afford that blue 
dress." She bit her lip, then burst 
out furiously: "I've told Warren 
I'm not going to the Prom. I'd 
rather die than be seen in my old 
green dress." 

Kenny's lip trembled. "That 
'lectric train costs more'n I've got." 

Dan paced the room, not looking 
at his father. "The man at the 
used car lot says you'll have to sign 
the contract, Dad." 

Sybil saw how tense and strained 
Paul looked. Yet he lifted his head 
and spoke quietly. 

"I'm sorry. It's against my prin- 
ciples to go into debt." When they 
would have interrupted, each in- 
tent on his or her own problem, 
Paul lifted trembling hands, and 
spoke soberly: "We'll all just have 
to make the best of it." 

"The bestr cried Elna, then 
burst into tears and rushed away to 
her room. The others followed si- 

Sybil crept close to Paul's wheel 
chair. She tried to make her voice 
light, unworried as she said: "Paul, 
darling, I've got a little money- 
saved. I meant to use it to send 
for my mother and father. They've 
never met you or the children. I 
wanted them for Christmas . . ." 
her voice wobbled, but she made it 
firm and added: "maybe I can send 
for them next year." 

She saw Paul's hands turning and 
twisting in his lap. She knew how 
helpless he felt. She wanted to 
help him. She put her own hands 
over his and said with a tender 
smile: "I'll tell the children right 
this minute." Before he could pre- 
vent her, she was on her way up- 

As usual all of them were in 
Danielle's room, for it was biggest, 
and boasted more chairs. The door 
was closed, and the children's voices 
rose and fell behind it. When Sybil 
knocked, the voices stopped, and 
when Danielle opened the door, 
Sybil knew just how unwelcome she 
really was. 

Her legs trembled a little as she 
stepped inside. She hated herself 
for feeling shy and tongue-tied be- 
fore Paul's children. But from the 
first — three months ago — they 
had built a wall against her. Not 
that they were rude. Unkind. Just 
that they were strangers. As she 
was a stranger in their home. They 
resented her intrusion. 

Danielle's voice was quietly un- 
interested. "Did you want some- 
thing . . . Mother?" 

The word tagged along. Not 
with any desire to hurt. But as an 
afterthought. From the first Sybil 
had wanted the children to think 



of her as a sort of second mother. 
She hadn't wanted to take anything 
from Paul's first wife. Lula had 
been the children's mother. Paul's 
first love. She belonged in this 
house. In all their hearts. Sybil, 
shy, retiring, had never wanted to 
usurp her place. If only she could 
make the children know. 

OUT she found a lump in her 
throat as she tried to speak, and 
instead of telling of her mother and 
father, she tried to make them in- 
terested in the plans she had 
formed. She made her voice gay, 
excited, but deep inside she was 
shaking with pain and loneliness. 

"I've a little money. My very 
own. I thought perhaps you'd let 
me put it with what you have 
and .... " 

She stopped. They were staring 
at her with cold suspicion. As 
though she might be trying to buy 
herself a place in their lives. She 
hurried on, stammering a little, be- 
cause her shyness had made her 
cheeks too pink. 

"I'd like to sew for Elna and 
Danielle. Remnants at Rogers' 
aren't too awfully expensive. Blous- 
es can be made out of very little 
material. Perhaps I can copy that 
frock " 

She could not go on in the face 
of their unresponsive stares. She 
managed something light, foolish, 
before she withdrew and closed the 
door. Though Paul called to her, 
she did not go back downstairs for 
a little while. 

She had to have time to compose 
herself. Even scold herself for be- 
ing presumptuous. Instead of mak- 
ing the children happier, she had 

made them uncomfortable. Instead 
of drawing the children closer, she 
had pushed them further away. 

Yet, she couldn't abandon her 
plans. There was a certain stub- 
bornness, a deep desire to make the 
children love her, that made her tell 
Paul what she had in her mind. 

She hoped he would not find 
traces of her tears in her voice as 
they sat together, side by side, 
hands clasped, happy in their com- 
panionship. She swallowed pain- 
fully, but she made herself speak. 

"I'm going to give the children a 
nice Christmas, Paul. I know how 
they feel. Kenny's just a baby . . ." 
she broke off, seeing the wistful 
frown on Paul's face. 

He spoke almost angrily. "Sybil, 
if I could, I'd give him the biggest, 
longest train that ever wheeled a 
track." His voice failed, he lifted 
his pale hands in a helpless little 
gesture that twisted Sybil's heart. 

She couldn't bother Paul further 
with her plans. She couldn't let 
him know how the desire to be a 
real part of the family was churn- 
ing within her. She pretended to 
be busy with her grocery list. She 
wrote: Turkey, and found Paul 
grinning down at her. 

"Don't forget stuffin,' " he re- 
minded her teasingly, and when he 
took away her pencil and kissed her, 
she felt better. 

"Paul," she said, returning his 
kiss, "even in that wheel chair 
you're my pillar of strength." 

His smile was one-sided. He con- 
fessed: "I'm just a phony, darling. 
Deep down inside I'm scared. But 
I know how blessed I am to have 
you. And the children." 

Her smile was tender. "Darling, 



a man is twice blessed if he know's 
he's blessed/' 

npiIE next morning Sybil was first 
down to the kitchen. Someone 
— she suspected Kenny — had 
ringed the 25th with bright red 
crayon. It gave her hope until the 
children assembled. A dark curtain 
of gloom hung over the table as she 
served breakfast, went to take Paul 
his tray. 

As she came back into the kitch- 
en, she heard Dan say angrily: 
"Lately, everything's come un- 
glued! Things were all right un- 
til " 

Sybil's fingers flew to her ears so 
that she might not hear the end of 
the sentence. She realized that in 
some obscure way the children were 
blaming her for spoiling Christmas. 

She stood there in the hallway, 
leaning weakly against the wall, 
while she looked at the situation as 
the children saw it. They had been 
happy with their father after their 
mother died. Just having him 
there, close, dependable, had eased 
the pain of their loss. For over a 
year the little family had been a 

Then Paul and Sybil had met. 
Paul had flown a cargo into the 
city where Sybil worked. They had 
met when he came to her office. 
He had come several times. And 
on his last visit he had asked her to 
have dinner with him before he re- 
turned home. 

Over white linen and gleaming 
silver, Paul had talked of his home 
and children. Of Lula. Sybil had 
known his loneliness. His need for 
a woman's understanding and love. 
Yet, when he came again, and asked 
her to marry him, she had not said 

yes. There were Paul's children. 
All of them big enough to remem- 
ber their dear mother. All of them 
old enough to resent another wom- 
an's presence in the home. 

When Paul went away, Sybil 
knew how much she loved him. 
When he came back with an in- 
sistent question, she accepted eager- 
ly. After their temple marriage, and 
a short honeymoon, they had flown 
to Paul's home. 

Home! How Sybil had dreamed 
of going home with Paul. Of shar- 
ing that home with Paul's children. 
But the children had shut her away. 
They were fine people — Paul's 
young brood. They were not de- 
liberately impolite. But the wall 
they raised between themselves and 
Sybil was insurmountable. Paul did 
not guess, nor know. Sybil did not 
tell him. She knew how hurt he 
would be. 

She tucked her secret pain deep 
in her heart, and knew she was pre- 
tending that everything would turn 
out all right. Now, as she stood 
there, her fingers pressing her ears 
so that she could not hear, she knew 
that in some odd way Paul's chil- 
dren were packaging all their disap- 
pointments about Christmas with 
the fact that Sybil was part of the 
cause for their unhappiness. 

When she stepped back into the 
kitchen with its tangy smell of crisp 
bacon and browned toast, her face 
was pale and strained, but the chil- 
dren paid her small attention. Taut 
nerves showed in the way they bick- 
ered with each other. 

Danielle said sharply: "Those 
fingernails, Dan! They look like 
you've been cleaning chimneys!" 

He gave her a scathing glance, 


and said, too sweetly: "All the bet- 
ter for Santa Claus!" 

"Well, he's not coming down our 
chimney/' cried Kenny darkly. 
"Once we used to get lots of gifts. 
Our stockings used to be stuffed 
with candy, oranges, and nuts!" 

"Nuts!" Dan said the word deep 
under his breath. But it did not 
lose any of the bitterness that 
burned in Dan's heart. That car 
had been the dream of his young 
life. Like every other going-on- 
seventeen-year-old fellow, Dan need- 
ed that chassis. No wonder his 
world had come unglued! 
''THERE were unshed tears behind 
Sybil's lashes as she washed the 
breakfast dishes after the children 
had left for school. 

She kept thinking of Kenny's 
train. An ad she had read in the 
newspaper popped into her mind: 
"Buy now, pay next year/" Maybe 
she could talk to Paul about it. But 
she was sure he would not approve. 
Paul hated to be in debt, and there 
were plenty of doctor's and hospital 
bills to be settled by the first of the 

She thought about the savings 
bonds she had bought before she 
and Paul were married. From the 
first Paul had refused to touch them, 
saying that they were hers. She had 
wanted to share her possessions and 
had had them made out in his 
name, too. They were hoarding 
them for an emergency. 

Sybil swished the dishcloth angri- 
ly through her detergent suds and 
mumbled loudly, "If this isn't an 
emergency I don't know what is!" 

Paul, hearing her voice, called out 
from the living room to know if 
she'd been talking to him. 

She answered laughingly, "To my- 


self, darling. Just grumbling 
through my long, white beard!" 
Here she was, anxious to become 
Santa Claus, and she was complete- 
ly stumped as to how to go about 

While Paul read, she sat at her 
desk and got out her budget book 
and her grocery list. Her pretty 
forehead was concentrated into a 
deep frown as she went through 
her list trying to see if there wasn't 
some way she could economize. 

"Well have hamburgers and meat 
loaf every dinner until Christmas," 
she declared, waving her list. 
OAUL looked up from his book 
and said emphatically: "I like 
hamburgers. Those meat loaves 
you dream up are better than roast 

Sybil laughed. Then she said 
hesitantly: "Paul, do you mind? . . . 
I mean . . . will it be all right if I 
sort of juggle my budget? As long 
as I can see our way clear, do you 
mind if I sort of . . . ?" 

Paul's grin interrupted her. 
"You're the banker. I don't mind 
you shuffling the budget. I trust 
your good judgment." His eyes 
were on his book, as he said very 
quietly: "Sybil, if you're thinking 
about the children, and Christmas, 
I love you for it. But no one can 
buy the real deep-down spirit of 

Her flush was so fiery that she hid 
her face as she checked her list. Paul 
had guessed how she felt, how im- 
portant it was for her to find her 
way into the children's hearts. Yet 
he continued slowly, "I've nothing 
against giving presents. The Wise 
Men traveled to Bethlehem to make 
gifts to their King. But there was 
a great deal more to their journey 



than that. They went carrying gifts 
which were only the outward glitter 
for the true meaning of what they 
carried in their hearts. I know the 
children are selfish. Perhaps it's my 
fault. Perhaps Fve spoiled them 

• • • • 

She wouldn't let him blame him- 
self. She cried miserably: "It's not 
your fault, darling. It's mine. I 
want them to love me. But I don't 
know how. That's why I want 
them to have the sort of Christmas 
they've always had." 

Even as she said it, she knew 
how . . . yes, cheap ... it sounded, 
trying to buy love with presents. 

Paul shook his head solemnly. 
"It won't hurt them to go without 
just this once. Perhaps this will 
help teach them the true meaning 
of the season. I have hopes that 
they know what is right." 

"Perhaps . . ." agreed Sybil faint- 
ly. But deep inside she couldn't be 
sure. It wasn't only Christmas, or 
the lack of gifts that made -Paul's 
children seem selfish, hard, and cold 
towards her. There was a much 
deeper reason. Sybil knew until 
Paul's children wanted her love, 
even Paul's quiet reasoning couldn't 
make them give their love to her. 

^HAT evening when Paul and the 
children formed their usual close 
little circle in the living room, Sybil 
pretended to be very busy in the 
kitchen. Their voices were faint 
threads of sound as they talked and 
talked. She wished fervently that 
they'd need her, that they'd call her 
into the room. 

But when they finished talking to 
Paul, all of them went upstairs to 
bed. Paul told her that he had ex- 

plained about her mother and fa- 
ther, and she busied herself with 
helping him get ready for the night 
so that he would not see traces of 
disappointment in her eyes. 

"You wouldn't like to change 
your mind, Sybil?" asked Paul, 
when she kissed him goodnight, but 
she shook her head and tried to an- 
swer without a quiver. 

"Maybe, next Christmas, Paul. 
I've written mother, and I'm sure 
she'll understand." She folded a 
blanket, and said brightly: "I'm go- 
ing shopping in the morning, Paul. 
I want to have a good look at that 
blue frock. I know how disappoint- 
ed Danielle is about the dance. I'm 
going to try to copy it." She added 
with a little smile: "I love to sew." 

It had snowed during the night, 
and when Sybil waved to Paul as 
she went down the walk, her ga- 
loshes left small holes in the snow 
along the walk. When she came 
back, her arms were filled with 
bundles. Paul kissed her, and said: 
"You look like a kitten who's just 
eaten the cream." 

"Bargains, bargains," she laughed, 
and her eyes were shining. But she 
refused to open her packages. "No 
fair until Christmas." She hurried 
to the sewing room, and shut herself 
up with needles, pins, and patterns. 

For two days Paul scarcely caught 
a glimpse of her. He complained 
a little, but smiled when she told 
him that the blue dress and several 
skirts and blouses were under way. 
There were pajamas for Paul and 
the boys, and yards and yards of 
nylon ruffling to be finished on the 
blue dress. 

Somehow, Sybil got everything 
done. The pies were made. The 



turkey was in the refrigerator. She 
and Kenny had chosen the tree. Not 
the magnificent pine that Kenny 
had had his eye on, but a smaller 
one which had lost all the branches 
on one side. 

"It won't matter, Kenny/' she 
said, seeing his disappointment, 
'when it's in the bay window." 

"It's ugly," said Kenny dully, 
"but I guess it's the best we can 
afford this year." 

He kicked at a piece of ice, and 
said under his breath: "I guess 
Christmas isn't so much, anyways." 

It could be, Kenny! Sybil's heart 
was so full that for a moment she 
thought she had said the words out 
loud. But Kenny's sullen, disap- 
pointed little face, told her that she 
had not spoken. She walked silent- 
ly beside him, feeling her own 
Christmas crumbling to bits within 
her heart. 

HPHEY trimmed the tree on 
Christmas Eve. With Paul's 
help, for Sybil's Christmas gift had 
come true. Paul was tall, and well, 
and strong again. The children 
were happy. It was like the Christ- 
mases they had had before. They 
scattered tissue and boxes all over 
the room, and when all the decora- 
tions were in place, Kenny stood 
back and stared at the tree with a 
critical eye. 

"I guess you were right . . . 
Mother," with that tagging little 
hesitation, but the smile he gave 
her was filled with happiness, "it 
looks all right in the bay." 

Sybil had scarcely time to nod, 
before the doorbell pealed impera- 
tively. It was Paul who urged: "You 
answer it, Sybil." 

Sybil went to the door, and had 

a queer feeling that all eyes were 
on her, that each one of them was 
waiting for her to turn the knob. 
When she did and saw her parents, 
she found herself laughing and cry- 
ing in a single breath. 

"Mother! Dad!" She hugged 
them. Kissed them. Then put out 
her hand to Paul, asking a breath- 
less question: "How . . . .?" 

Kenny explained, excitedly. "We 
put all the money from our piggy 

"Into one pile . . ." that was El- 
na, just as excitedly. 

"And sent for them." Dan was 
just as excited, but not quite so 

"Because you were trying to make 
a nice Christmas for us, Mother," 
finished Danielle eagerly. 

Sybil was glad that Paul's arm 
was tight about her slim waist. 
Why, she needn't have worried 
about Paul's children. They had 
seen the true meaning of Christ- 
mas much plainer than she had. 
Sybil's eyes were clear and shining 
blue as they reached out to encom- 
pass everyone in the room. The 
glow in her heart was a steady 

"Merry Christmas, darling," she 
said, meeting Paul's proud glance. 
Dan had turned on the tree, and 
it shone with a soft, beautiful radi- 
ance over all the room, as Sybil 
watched the children getting ac- 
quainted with their grandmother 
and grandfather. 

Why, she thought, we're a real 
family now, and knew, deep in her 
soul, that fears and doubts had fled. 
From that minute on, she belonged. 
The children had given her Jove for 

Vegetables - •«-/! JJtfferent vi/ay (overy 'J)ay 

Part II 

Rhea H. Gardner 

Extension Service Home Management and Furnishings Specialist 
Utah State Agricultural College 

T7*EW foods are more pleasing to the taste or more appealing to the eye than are garden- 
■■■ fresh or fresh frozen vegetables cooked just right and seasoned just enough to bring 
out the good, sweet natural flavors. However, the serving of three vegetables every day, 
does call for variety in both selection and methods of preparation, if there is to be no 

Here are just a few recipes to start you thinking up new and interesting ways to 
prepare vegetables for your family. 

Lima Bean Casserole 

2 Vi cups lima beans, home-cooked 1 tablespoon butter or drippings 

or canned 1 tablespoon flour 

1 tablespoon brown sugar Vi teaspoon salt 

Ys teaspoon pepper 2 teaspoons dry mustard 

2 teaspoons lemon juice Vz cup buttered crumbs 

!4 cup cheese, grated 4 or 5 bacon strips or frankfurters 

Place drained lima beans in a casserole. Save liquid. Heat butter or drippings 
over low. heat; add flour and stir until well blended. Slowly add Vt cup liquid from 
the beans, stirring until smooth; cook over low heat until thickened. Add brown sugar, 
salt, pepper, mustard, and lemon juice. Pour sauce over lima beans; sprinkle with but- 
tered crumbs and grated cheese. Place strips of bacon or frankfurters on top. Bake in 
a moderate oven (375°F) 25 to 35 minutes or until lightly browned. 

Vegetable Souffle 

Vegetable souffle is an excellent way to use left-over vegetables. It needs only a 
crisp salad as an accompaniment. To make a serving for six, you will need: 

1 cup cooked vegetables 2 teaspoons grated onion 

1 cup thick white sauce* 4 eggs separated 

1 tablespoon lemon juice % teaspoon cream of tartar 

Finely chop or sieve the vegetable. To the white sauce add the prepared vegetable, 
lemon juice, grated onion, and beaten egg yolks. Cool. 

Beat egg whites until frothy; add cream of tartar and beat until stiff but not dry. 
Fold into the above mixture. 

Put into a casserole that has been coated with a light film of melted butter. Bake 
in a moderate oven (325^) about one hour. 

Carrots, spinach, peas, green beans, or corn are delicious in souffles. 

The use of sauces on vegetables can create new interest and appetite appeal in veg- 
etable dishes. Her are a few sauces that help to make good vegetables better. Each 
makes four average servings. 

1. Cream sauce base: To 1 cup of medium thick white sauce add: 

a. Three or 4 tablespoons horseradish, \ tablespoon lemon juice, and Vz teaspoon 
paprika. Fold into sauce and serve hot over string beans, asparagus, cablxige, 
or cauliflower. 

b. One cup grated cheese and Vz teaspoon Worcestershire sauce. Mix with sauce 

* Recipe page 59. 

Page 46 



until cheese is all melted. Serve at once over spinach, string beans, cauli- 
flower, or asparagus, 
c. Two chopped hard-cooked eggs and 1 tablespoon chopped parsley. If de- 
sired, add 1 teaspoon dry mustard. Serve over broccoli, spinach, asparagus, 
or string beans. 

2. Easy Holhndaise Sauce: Cut % pound butter in small pieces. Put in top part 
of double boiler with 3 egg yolks and 3 tablespoons lemon juice. Let stand at 
room temperature for one-half hour. Just before serving, place over gently boil- 
ing water for 1 Vi minutes, stirring briskly. Serve over freshly cooked asparagus, 
carrots, broccoli, or cauliflower. 

3. Almond Butter Sauce: Melt Vi cup butter in a heavy pan and heat carefully to 
a golden brown. Add Vz cup toasted almonds slivered and 3 tablespoons lemon 
juice. Pour over hot broccoli, cauliflower, or string beans and serve at once. 

LKeba cJurner, oLadt/ of Lshcmtt[ 

"DEBA Turner, Loa, Utah, sixty-nine years old, is never idle. She works for anyone 
**• who asks her, and has never taken a penny for any of it. People ask her to 
work on gifts for their loved ones, and although she will never see some of the re- 
cipients, she freely gives of her time and talents. She seems always to know of some- 
one who would like something really lovely, so she makes gifts for all occasions and 
for no particular occasion — just gifts. She has made seventy-five doilies, hundreds of 
handkerchiefs, many lovely quilts, dozens of embroidered towels. During the second 
world war she knitted hundreds of pairs of sox and made many good warm sweaters. 
Sister Turner has served as an executive officer in the Primary Association, as a 
Sunday School teacher, a ward president in Relief Society for six years, and has been 
a visiting teacher for forty years, a service which she still enjoys. She has three living 
children, ten grandchildren, and nine great-grandchildren. In commenting upon the 
charity and love which are so much a part of all that Sister Turner accomplishes, her 
friend Mrs. Nell Ekker characterizes her as a most exemplary Relief Society woman: 
"When I think of charity or Relief Society, I think of Sister Reba Turner. Perhaps 
her many years of association with this fine organization have interwoven love and 
thoughtfulness and service into her being until she is indeed a part of all that Relief 
Society work symbolizes." 


Synopsis: The story "Hermanas" (sis- 
ters) is narrated by an American woman 
living temporarily in Mexico. She has 
befriended Lolita, a widow, and her lovely 
daughter Graciela. At Church Graciela 
meets Jim Flores, studying to be a doctor, 
and the two become deeply in love. Gra- 
ciela, after attending secretarial school, 
obtains a position with a banker, and 
meets a wealthy Mexican, Senor Munoz, 
who becomes interested in her. Lolita 
consents to the arrangements for a mar- 
riage between her daughter and Senor 
Munoz. The American Senora visits Lo- 
lita and asks for an explanation, but she 
fears that she has pleaded for Graciela in 
vain. Jim tries to see Graciela, but his 
efforts are useless, and he plans to leave 
Mexico. The American Senora asks Lo- 
lita and her daughter to come to her home 
on a matter of great importance. 

Chapter 7 

Fay Tarlock 

I have seen." I stepped back, my 
eyes holding Lolita's. "Since I have 
seen Jim Flores, I feel there is one 
thing more I must know, and you 
must answer me before this child." 
I made my voice ring out. 

"She is," I pointed a finger at 
Graciela, "in your words, a woman 
grown. Did she have any choice in 
this decision to cast aside her affi- 
anced one, and her hope for a dif- 
ferent life in her new religion, for 
you have tied the two in one knot?" 
Pitching my voice higher, for I 
knew now that I had touched some- 
thing in Lolita's tight defense, I 
asked, "Did she choose this man 


whose hands are full of gold, but 
RACIELA'S dark liquid eyes whose back is weary with the bur- 
begged me to believe she had den of the years? Did she?" With 

head thrown back, I defied Lolita to 

There was no sound in the room 


no other plans, but I 
my attention on the mother. 

"You did not know, perhaps, that 
he came to me this afternoon to say 
goodbye. He is leaving Mexico." 

There were two startled gasps in 
the room. "He feels that everything 
he had in Mexico is lost to him and 
he is adrift in the world." 

Graciela came swiftly to my side 
and grasped my arm. "It is not true. 
What you are saying?" 

Solemnly I nodded. 

With a protective gesture, Lolita 
moved to her daughter. "I did not 
know it would affect him so, believe 
me," she said, her voice gentle with 
love. "But," and hardness came in- 
to her voice again, "he is young, he 
will recover." 

"That I do not know," I an- 
swered Lolita. 

Page 48 

save that of our labored breathing. 
The three of us waited in the dim 
light. Graciela acted first. She 
looked at her mother as if she were 
a stranger, seen for the first time. 
When Lolita refused her gaze, the 
girl jerked off the fragile black scarf 
and in an unexpected burst of pas- 
sion, twisted the lace in her hands 
until it frayed and pulled in two. I 
watched the girl's eyes blaze, her 
cheeks go high with color. 

"No!" she fairly shouted. "I was 
not asked. I did it because she, my 
mother, said I must!" Then she 
threw the lace fragments at her 
mother's feet. 

Lolita, horror and fear marking 
"I only know what her face, stooped to pick them up. 



"No!" Graciela commanded her. 
"Let them lie. Never again will 1 
wear a black scarf." 

I think I caught the purport of 
her declaration even quicker than 
her mother did, and a wave of hap- 
piness and warmth surged through 
me. Why, I told myself, I should 
never have doubted this girl's 
strength. So it was I who stooped 
and picked up the tortured frag- 
ments of lace. 

Holding them in front of me for 
Graciela to note, I asked, "Are you 
sure you have the strength of will 
to keep the promise you have just 
made yourself?" 

"Yes," the girl's voice was firm. 
"I will keep that promise." 

Lolita stood as if rooted to the 
floor, a growing look of fear on her 
face, and, even now, I would have 
dealt with her compassionately, if I 
had not felt more compassion for 
her daughter. 

"It is as I thought," I said, keep- 
ing my role as judge. "You did not 
consider her. You thought yourself 
wise enough to decide all things. Do 
you still feel that you are?" 

Slowly Lolita raised her eyes to 
mine. The fear and indecision 
pulled at me, but I hardened myself 
again. From me she turned to the 
girl, rebellious for the first time. 

"I did it for you," she said, her 
voice thick and dry. "It was a won- 
derful thing he offered you. I 
thought it best, you understand?" 

"How could you think money 
piled on money to be what I want. 
I want only my right to believe and 
my Jaime." She picked the tattered 
scarf from my hands and tossed it 
on the table near her in a last ges- 

ture of defiance. "I want my 
Jaime," and she began to sob. 

"You see," I said to Lolita, "she 
is exhausted by the ordeal of these 
long weeks." And I, too, felt weary 
and the warmth gone from me. I 
would have comforted the girl and 
told her she had done well, but that 
was the mother's right. I looked at 
her, my eyes saying, "Now you must 

"Where can I find this joven? yf 
Lolita raised her tired shoulders, and 
there was the beginning of light in 
her face. 

Silently I pointed to the tele- 
phone and to the pad beside it, 
where I had written Jim's number 
earlier in the evening. 

Graciela's sobs did not stop — 
not until she heard Jim's voice, 
clear in the quiet room. 

WAITING in the night, we were 
a strange trio. Lolita sat on 
the brown leather couch beside her 
daughter, who sat there with a look 
that was almost the bliss of heaven, 
now that her decision was made and 
Jim was on his way. 

Upstairs I heard one of the chil- 
dren murmur, and I excused my- 
self. When I came back we heard 
the honk of a taxi and the bell's 
shrill clamor. Amporo, whose nose 
must have been in the kitchen door, 
came running through the living 
room to admit Jim. 

Worn and puzzled, he came to 
us. This time, however, his clothes 
were neat, and there was a look in 
his eyes that could easily be turned 
into hope. Graciela's eyes leaped to 
meet him, and he responded to the 
gladness in her, but she did not stir, 



and quietly he pulled a chair next 
to mine, his questioning face turned 
towards the three of us. I nodded 
to Lolita. The responsibility was 

I knew her enigma, but I could 
not help. She clutched at the lace 
scarf, still knotted about her throat, 
and the touch of it was like the an- 
swer to her disturbances. Silently 
she undid the scarf, rose, and placed 
it side by side with Graciela's torn 

Jim watched, more puzzled than 
ever, and I thought Graciela's joy 
would burst through her skin, she 
was struggling so hard to contain 
herself. Calm now, Lolita returned 
to her seat on the couch. 

"Today/' she told him, 'when I 
came to you I was wrong. I did not 
ask my heart, only my head. If you 
will help me, we will forget all that 
was said." 

A complex person, this little serv- 
ing woman. Many things had 
changed in her while she sat so pas- 
sive on the couch. 

Jim was equal to the moment. 
Gravely he rose and crossed to her, 
his hand extended. "I will be grate- 
ful to you all the days of my life," 
he said sitting beside her. The words 
made a bond between them. Then 
he turned toward Graciela, his eyes 
warm with love. 

I rose and beckoned Lolita to fol- 
low me. These lovers, who had 
never been completely alone since 
the spring morning they met in the 
shadow of the chapel, deserved their 
hour of privacy. 

In the kitchen, Amporo was sit- 
ting in the harsh light of the naked 
bulb, her head, with its dark braids 
resting on the table. Awkwardly she 

arose, her eyes opaque with sleep, 
and pulled out two more straight- 
backed chairs from against the 
whitewashed wall. 

Lolita sat uncomfortably in her 
chair. I was eager for the explana- 
tion she was preparing herself to 
make, but I wanted it to come in 
her own way, and I knew she must 
be hungry. 

"Let's have a piece of cake and 
something to drink. It won't take 
the place of the supper you missed, 
but it will help." I nodded to Am- 

Happy to be once more part of 
the eventful evening, Amporo 
brought the cake and removed the 
wax paper. In my unrest this morn- 
ing, I had used my dwindling sup- 
ply of raisins and nuts from home. 
There is, I had early discovered, a 
certain national quality in the sweet 
confections of Mexico, and my cake 
was purely foreign. 

When Lolita had eaten a few 
bites, her face lighted eagerly, and 
she ate until the last crumb was 
gone. With the taste lingering in 
her mouth, she leaned forward, 
studying the cake, unable to ana- 
lyze its ingredients. Amporo of- 
fered her another piece to eat with 
her glass of limonade, but she de- 
nied herself. 

"Would it be possible, Senora," 
she asked, her eyes still on the cake, 
"to have such a cake for the wed- 

If there was hysteria in my laugh- 
ter it was because of the unexpect- 
edness of the request coming after 
the tension of the evening. Amporo 
shared my amusement. In a mo- 
ment the three of us were laughing 



without restraint, the innocent cake 
before us. 

"Pues/' I picked up a crumb that 
had fallen on the table. "I think it 
can be done. When will you want 
it?" I was truly curious. 

| OLITA beamed. "That will de- 
pend upon the novio, of course, 
but I have been doing much think- 
ing, and I am of the opinion that 
the young people need not wait. I 
only ask that my daughter have a 
wedding worthy of her." She moved 
uneasily in her chair. "Before we 
speak of weddings, there is some- 
thing I must say to you." 

"I am waiting." 

"Senora, I must tell you tonight 
a burden is gone from me. I had 
not realized it myself until I made 
the telephone call, but I did not 
altogether act with unselfishness — 
as I pretended to myself. Oh, I 
thought I did everything for my 
daughter's sake, believe me, I 
thought it would be best for her, 
that in the years to come she would 
be grateful. Now I know that I 
was thinking more of myself . . . 
and that I denied the truth that had 
come to me." 

Hot tears stung my eyelids. It 
was not in me to blame her because 
she wanted a soft bed, the assur- 
ance of daily food, the luxury of an 
American dress. The security of 
things she could caress with her eyes 
and hold in her hands meant much 
to one who had lived in the twilight 
of bondage. What she had not un- 
derstood was the fact that she was 
placing herself in another kind of 
bondage, perhaps more fretting than 
her earlier chains. 

And there was enough of the 

child left in her to want the tradi- 
tional wedding of her people. I pat- 
ted her hand. "You feel there 
should be a wedding festival?" 

"If you're discussing weddings, we 
are two interested parties." 

Startled, we looked up to see Jim 
and Graciela standing in the arch- 
way. Jim's arm was possessively 
around his girl; their happiness was 
as warming as a fire. 

"Lolita has just said she would 
like my nut cake for the wedding, 
which means it must be soon for my 
supply is almost gone," I said look- 
ing at Jim. His expression was not 
all I had expected. 

Graciela, from the protection of 
his arm, smiled up at him. "You 
will believe me now, my Jaime, 
there is no reason why we should 
not be married very quickly." With 
her slender fingers she smoothed the 
deep furrow in his brow. "He," she 
said including us all in her happi- 
ness, "is already a viejo — worrying 
for fear my mother will delay us, 
worrying he won't have time to fix 
the house in San Angel. See, his 
wrinkles will not rub away." She 
removed her fingers to show us the 
furrow persisted. 

"I think a toast of limonade, sup- 
plemented with a piece of cake, 
would be appropriate before we get 
into further discussion." I reached 
for the cake and signalled for Am- 
poro to fill the pitcher. 

"I could go for that," Jim said, 
"I don't think I've eaten today." 

Picking up the cake, I led them 
to the larger table in the dining 
room. Amporo followed with the 
limonade and large bowls of corn 
flakes and milk, over which she lav- 
ishly sprinkled banana slices. The 



national supper of the people, I 

1VTOT until Jim had settled back in 
contentment, Graciela's hand 
modestly in his, did I ask about his 
wedding doubts. 

"For one thing," Jim said reluc- 
tantly, "there's the old house in San 
Angel. It isn't safe to live in, and 
it would take a lot of time and 
money to get even the necessary 
three rooms livable. 

Troubled, Graciela withdrew her 
hand. "You must remember, 
Jaime," she said softly, "We have 
been living there for some time." 

He was a little taken back. "I 
know," he said, "but things are dif- 
ferent now." Taking both her 
hands, he looked at me for support. 
"The floors are so rotten, it's a won- 
der none of you have fallen through. 
And the plumbing!" He glared at 
the polished mahogany of the table. 
"I don't imagine it's been changed 
since the days of the viceroys." 

"A sanitario was installed the year 
before I went to work for the Ur- 
binas," Lolita said with hurt dignity. 

Jim winked at me, his face 
straight. "There's running water, 
too, all cold. And have you seen 
the sink? It looks like something 
Cortez dreamed up for the whole 
army to use. And that brick master- 
piece that takes up half the kitchen 
was used to cook the first meal, cen- 
turies ago." 

"I have a right to live in the 
house as long as I desire." Lolita was 

Designed to be a peacemaker, 
Graciela drew them together with 
her loving glance. To Jim she said, 
"It is not as bad as you say. We live 
there and are healthy. Before long 

I shall have money saved, then we 
can make the repairs you think 
necessary. But we do not wait for 
those, do we?" 

"I guess we'll sleep over it, any- 
way." Jim smiled at his two wom- 

I was willing to give Jim my sup- 
port. "We've decided enough for 
one night." I pushed my chair back 
and stood a little apart, surveying 
them. Then quite unexpectedly I 
heard myself saying, "You want to 
be married soon, don't you, Jim?" 

"What do you think?" His lips 
touched the burnished roll of Gra- 
ciela's pompadour. 

There was a puzzling look on Lo- 
lita's face as she watched them. 
Looking at me as if for permission 
to speak, she rose and stood beside 
me. "I am the eldest, you would 
do well to listen to me." All of us 
turned our eyes on her. "The time 
for you to be married is now — very 
soon, I mean. It will help to forget 
the sorrow of these past few weeks 
and the two of you can go about 
your work, not waste time dreaming. 
Is that not right, Senora?" 

Emphatically I nodded, glad for 
her wisdom. 

"And, in addition," the color rose 
in her face, "the Senor Munoz is 
away from Mexico for a short time. 
I do not anticipate trouble . . ." she 
stopped Jim's protest with a gesture 
of her hands. "As I say, there will 
be no trouble, and I, myself, will go 
to him immediately on his return, 
but it will be better, if the marriage 
is accomplished." A sweet smile 
lighted her eyes. "I ask only that 
there be a wedding worthy of my 

(To be concluded) 

[Biographical Sketches of JrLward winners 
in the ibliza U\. Snow LPoem Contest 

Marvhale Woolsey is well known to readers of The Relief Society Magazine. Her 
poems, stories, and articles have appeared in the Magazine since 1925. She has also con- 
tributed to other Church publications and to many national magazines. Her songs and 
operettas have received wide recognition, the most famous song being "Springtime in 
the Rockies," which has been acclaimed an American folk lore classic. Until recent 
years Mrs. Woolsey has "sandwiched" her writing between work as an advertising copy- 
writer and newspaper reporter and caring for four daughters who now have homes and 
families of their own. Mrs. Woolsey has eleven grandchildren. 

For the past several years Mrs. Woolsey has been active in civic and community 
projects in Salt Lake City. She is a member of the League of Utah Writers, the Utah 
Poetrv Society, the Art Barn Poets, and other writers' organizations. Also she is a mem- 
ber of the American Society of Composers, Authors, and Publishers. She was chair- 
man in 1953 of the central committee in charge of publishing the third volume of Utah 
Sings. Now devoting most of her time and energy to writing, Mrs. Woolsey is in New 
York City doing research work for a long-planned book and continuing various other 
writing projects. 

Beatrice Knowlton Ekman was born on the Knowlton Ranch in Skull Valley, Tooele 
County, Utah, the daughter of J. Quincy Knowlton and Ellen Smith. After her fa- 
ther's death, Beatrice moved with her mother and the other children to Kaysville, where 
her maternal grandparents resided. 

She attended the University of Utah, where she met John A. Ekman. They were 
married in 1896, and made their home in Salt Lake City. Here their three children 
were born — Milton Woodruff, Catherine, and John A. Young John died soon after 
returning home from the Navy in the first world war. Beatrice and her husband 
lived for thirty years in the home at "C" Street and Eighth Avenue, where Mr. Ekman 
was born. When they sold the old home to the Latter-day Saints Hospital, they moved 
to Portland, Oregon, to be near their two children. Since Mr. Ekman died in 1947, 
Mrs. Ekman has made her home with her daughter, Catherine Renstrom Pitkin. 

Mrs. Ekman has written poetry since childhood, and for the last forty years has 
published many poems and some stories and articles, mostly in Latter-day Saint Church 
publications. She is represented in Utah Sings, Our Legacv, Of Stone and Star, Poets 
of the Pacific, and other anthologies. She loves to visit her beloved Utah and the beau- 
tiful mountains of her homeland. 

Ruth C. LangJois, Salt Lake City, Utah, is a newcomer among the award winners 
in the Eliza R. Snow Poem Contests. She writes: "I am strictly in the amateur class as 
a writer. Most of my efforts have been confined to road shows, birthday greetings, com- 
memorating ward affairs, and the like. Writing, however, has been more or less of a 
hobby, and I have written for the satisfaction of the activity, but have never attempted 
to have any of my efforts published. When I was a Junior in M.I.A. I won first place 
in a district story contest and The Relief Society Magazine published the story. 

"Between that contribution and this, my life has been very full — a wonderful hus- 
band (C. Vernon Langlois), four sons and a daughter; P.T.A. and M.I.A. — it's a very 
busy and satisfying life. I've always kept busy in Church work, mostly in M.I.A., in 
which I am now a counselor in Wells Stake. 

"Reed, the oldest of the children, is a graduate of Brigham Young University and 
is at present a lieutenant in the Navy; Sharon is attending the Brigham Young University; 
Larry is in high school; and Tommy achieved fourth grade this year. Bob and his 
wife Shirley made me a grandmother this fall!" 

Page 53 


cJheologyi — Characters and Teachings 
of The Book of Mormon 

Lesson 39— Signs of the Crucifixion; the Voice of Jesus Christ Is Heard 

Elder Lehnd H. Monson 

(Text: The Book of Mormon: 3 Nephi, chapters 8-10) 

For Tuesday, April 3, 1956 

Objective: To learn of the prophecies concerning the crucifixion and their ful- 

DY thirty-four a.d. people began 
to look for the fulfillment of the 
prophecy of Samuel the Lamanite 
relating to the crucifixion of Jesus 
Christ on the Eastern Hemisphere. 
Samuel had said: 

. . . behold, in that day that he shall 
suffer death the sun shall be darkened 
and refuse to give his light unto you; and 
also the moon and the stars; and there 
shall be no light upon the face of this 
land, even from the time that he shall 
suffer death, for the space of three days, 
to the time that he shall rise again from 
the dead. Yea, at the time that he shall 
yield up the ghost there shall be thunder- 
ings and lightnings for the space of many 
hours, and the earth shall shake and trem- 
ble; and the rocks which are upon the 
face of this earth, which are both above 
the earth and beneath, which ye know at 
this time are solid, or the more part of 
it is one solid mass, shall be broken up 
(Helaman 14:20-21; see also verses 22-29). 

Page 54 

Fulfillment of Prophecy 
oi Destruction 

In thirty-four a.d., this remark- 
able prophecy had its literal fulfill- 
ment. Mormon, recording the 
event, wrote: 

And it came to pass in the thirty and 
fourth year, in the first month, on the 
fourth day of the month, there arose a 
great storm, such an one as never had 
been known in all the land. And there 
was also a great and terrible tempest; and 
there was terrible thunder, insomuch that 
it did shake the whole earth as if it was 
about to divide asunder. And there were 
exceeding sharp lightnings, such as never 
had been known in all the land (3 Nephi 

Mormon then details the nature 
of the destruction: 

And there was a great and terrible de- 
struction in the land southward. But . . . 



there was a more great and terrible de- 
struction in the land northward; for be- 
hold, the whole face of the land was 
changed, because of the tempest and the 
whirlwinds, and the thunderings and the 
lightnings, and the exceeding great quak- 
ing of the whole earth; And the highways 
were broken up, and the level roads were 
spoiled, and many smooth places became 
rough. And many great and notable 
cities were sunk, and many were burned, 
and many were shaken till the buildings 
thereof had fallen to the earth, and the 
inhabitants thereof were slain, and the 
places were left desolate (3 Nephi 

Zarahemla was gutted by fire, the 
city of Moroni sank into the sea, 
and Moronihah was buried beneath 
a mountain. And these are only 
examples of what happened to many 

After this destruction "thick 
darkness" settled over the land, so 
thick that the people whose lives 
were spared could ". . . feel the 
vapor of darkness" (3 Nephi 8:20). 
In fact, it was impossible to light 
candles or torches. 

. . . neither could there be fire kindled 
with their fine and exceedingly dry wood, 
so that there could not be any light at 
all; And there was not any light seen, 
neither fire, nor glimmer, neither the sun, 
nor the moon, nor the stars, for so great 
were the mists of darkness which were 
upon the face of the land (3 Nephi 

Lamentations oi Survivors 

Survivors of the destruction la- 
mented that they had not heeded 
the prophets. 

And in one place they were heard to 
cry, saying: O that we had repented before 
this great and terrible day, and then 
would our brethren have been spared, and 
they would not have been burned in that 
great city Zarahemla (3 Nephi 8:24). 

The Voice oi Jesus Christ 
Amidst these lamentations: 

. . . there was a voice heard among all 
the inhabitants of the earth, upon all the 
face of this land, crying: Wo, wo, wo 
unto this people; wo unto the inhabitants 
of the whole earth except they shall re- 
pent; for the devil laugheth, and his 
angels rejoice, because of the slain of the 
fair sons and daughters of my people; 
and it is because of their iniquity and 
abominations that they are fallen! (3 
Nephi 9:1-2). 

And many great destructions have I 
caused to come upon this land, and upon 
this people, because of their wickedness 
and their abominations. 

all ye that are spared because ye 
were more righteous than they, will ye 
not now return unto me, and repent of 
your sins, and be converted, that I may 
heal you? 

Yea, verily I say unto you, if ye will 
come unto me ye shall have eternal life. 
Behold, mine arm of mercy is extended 
towards you, and whosoever will come, 
him will I receive; and blessed are those 
who come unto me. 

Behold, I am Jesus Christ the Son of 
God. I created the heavens and the earth, 
and all things that in them are. I was with 
the Father from the beginning. I am in 
the Father, and the Father in me; and 
in me hath the Father glorified his name. 

1 came unto my own, and my own 
received me not. And the scriptures con- 
cerning my coming are fulfilled. 

And as many as have received me, to 
them have I given to become the sons of 
God; and even so will I to as many as 
shall believe on my name, for behold, by 
me redemption cometh, and in me is the 
law of Moses fulfilled. 

I am the light and the life of the 
world. I am Alpha and Omega, the be- 
ginning and the end. 

And ye shall offer up unto me no more 
the shedding of blood; yea, your sacrifices 
and your burnt offerings shall be done 
away, for I will accept none of your sac- 
rifices and your burnt offerings. 



And ye shall offer for a sacrifice unto 
me a broken heart and a contrite spirit. 
And whoso cometh unto me with a brok- 
en heart and a contrite spirit, him will 
I baptize with fire and with the Holy 
Ghost, even as the Lamanites, because of 
their faith in me at the time of their 
conversion, were baptized with fire and 
with the Holy Ghost, and they knew it 

Behold, I have come unto the world to 
bring redemption unto the world, to save 
the world from sin. 

Therefore, whoso repenteth and cometh 
unto me as a little child, him will I re- 
ceive, for of such is the kingdom of God. 
Behold, for such I have laid down my 
life, and have taken it up again; therefore 
repent, and come unto me ye ends of the 
earth, and be saved (3 Nephi 9:12-22). 

After these sayings there was si- 
lence in the land for many hours. 
Then the voice of Jesus was heard 
again, telling them that he had often 
wanted to gather this branch of the 
house of Israel together as a hen 
gathers her chickens, but they 
would not permit it. This instruc- 
tion was followed by more weeping 
and howling over the loss of their 
kindred and friends. 

Then it was that the three-day 
period was ended, and darkness dis- 
persed from off the land, and the 
destruction ceased. 

Appearance of Christ to Nephites 

It was only the more righteous 
of the people who remained to re- 
joice over the appearance of the Son 
of God, only those who had received 
the prophets: 

And the earth did cleave together again, 
that it stood; and the mourning, and the 
weeping, and the wailing of the people 
who were spared alive did cease; and their 
mourning was turned into joy, and their 
lamentations into the praise and thanks- 
giving unto the Lord Jesus Christ, their 
Redeemer (3 Nephi 10:10). 

Mormon cautions the reader of 
the account to read with understand- 

And now, whoso readeth, let him un- 
derstand; he that hath the scriptures, let 
him search them, and see and behold if 
all these deaths and destructions by fire, 
and by smoke, and by tempests, and by 
whirlwinds, and by the opening of the 
earth to receive them, and all these things 
are not unto the fulfilling of the proph- 
ecies of many of the holy prophets. 

Behold, I say unto you, Yea, many have 
testified of these things at the coming of 
Christ, and were slain because they testi- 
fied of these things. 

Yea, the prophet Zenos did testify of 
these things, and also Zenock spake con- 
corning these things, because they testi- 
fied particularly concerning us, who are 
the remnant of their seed. 

Behold, our father Jacob also testified 
concerning a remnant of the seed of Jo- 
seph. And behold, are not we a remnant 
of the seed of Joseph? And these things 
which testify of us, are they not written 
upon the plates of brass which our father 
Lehi brought out of Jerusalem? (3 Nephi 

Thus we see the literal fulfillment 
of the prophecies concerning the 
destructions which were to accom- 
pany the crucifixion of Christ. We 
see the glorious appearance of the 
Christ on the Western Hemisphere. 
Nephi became an active participant 
as one of the twelve disciples of 
Christ in helping to establish a pe- 
riod of freedom and security, of hap- 
piness and serenity. 

Mormon does not unfold this por- 
tion of his record to us without 
showing how the Lord blessed those 
who had survived, saying: 

And it came to pass that in the ending 
of the thirty and fourth year, behold, I 
will show unto you that the people of 
Nephi who were spared, and also those 



who had been called Lamanites, who had 
been spared, did have great favors shown 
unto them, and great blessings poured 
out upon their heads, insomuch that soon 
after the ascension of Christ into heaven 
he did truly manifest himself unto them — 
Showing his body unto them, and min- 
istering unto them; and an account of 
his ministry shall be given hereafter. 
Therefore for this time I make an end 
of my sayings (3 Nephi 10:18-19). 

Questions and Topics for Discussion 

1. What were the signs of the cruci- 

2. What early prophecies were fulfilled 
by these signs and events which followed? 

3. I low is God's mercy shown in his 
dealings with these surviving Ncphites? 

4. To what did Mormon, the Nephite 
historian, attribute all this destruction? 


Visiting cJeacher t/tessages 

Book of Mormon Gems of Truth 

Lesson 39— "But Behold, the Resurrection of Christ Redeemeth Mankind, 

Yea, Even All Mankind, and Bringeth Them Back Into the 

Presence of the Lord" (Helaman 14:17). 


Edith S. Elliott 

For Tuesday, April 3, 1956 

Objective: To show that Christ broke the bonds of death and all men will be 

"CHASTER time is accepted through- 
out the realm of Christianity as 
a time of rejoicing because it is the 
anniversary of the resurrection of 
Christ, the last act needed to com- 
plete his mission on earth. In his 
few years of mortal life he taught 
the plan of salvation, experienced 
death, then immortality. His whole 
life was one of example, proving to 
mortals that the plan is sound and 

Some may say, "Well, he knew 
the plan, he knew that he was the 
Son of God and the Savior of the 
world. " Yes, he knew, and know- 
ing it, has shared every phase of the 
plan with us. He outlined the way 
back to God's presence so clearly 
that anyone sincerely desiring sal- 
vation can follow. In John 11:25-26 
is the summary of his plan and his 

... I am the resurrection, and the life: 
he that believeth in me, though he were 
dead, yet shall he live: And whosoever 
liveth and believeth in me shall never 
die ... . 

A careful analysis of the above 
quotation will prove the profundity 
of the statement. To know that this 
life is not the end of our activity is 
most rewarding. It challenges us to 
make our every act one that is ac- 
ceptable to our Heavenly Father. 
We have our free agency and are 
not coerced, so think how great can 
be our blessing if we choose to fol- 
low the example of Jesus! 

There should be no doubt about 
a life hereafter. We find its evi- 
dence in scripture and modern reve- 
lation. The loving concern of our 
Heavenly Father for his children 
proves without a doubt that his plan 
is to return them to his kingdom as 
sanctified, resurrected beings. 



The prophet Alma tells us: 

and thus they are restored into his pres- 
ence, to be judged according to their 
. . . the resurrection of the dead bring- works, according to the law and justice 
etri back men into the presence of God; (Alma 42:23). 

Work Tfleeting— Food Preparation and Service 

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

Lesson 7-Vegetable Cookery (Continued) 

Rhea H. Gardner 

For Tuesday, April io, 1956 

pEW foods are more delicious 
" than are properly cooked, gar- 
den-fresh vegetables. Very little 
seasoning is needed to make them 
appealing to both the eye and the 

Sauces, buttered crumbs, and oth- 
er seasonings are too often used to 
camouflage poor quality or improp- 
erly cooked vegetables. Good cook- 
ing is essential if you wish to have 
a truly delicious, nutritious, and 
eye-appealing vegetable dish to 
serve your family. 


Cabbage is one of our good, com- 
paratively inexpensive, year-round 
vegetables. There are many ways 
to prepare it, but one of the most 
popular is to cook it in milk. Put 
six cups of shredded cabbage and 
one cup whole or top milk into a 
heavy pan. Simmer for two min- 
utes. While it is cooking, cream 
together two teaspoons each of but- 
ter and flour and one-half teaspoon 
salt. Add to cabbage, stirring until 
thickening is well distributed. Cook 
three or four minutes longer. Serve 
immediately. For added flavor, 

grate cheese over it just before plac- 
ing it on the table. Red cabbage 
does not stay red during cooking 
unless acid is added to the cooking 
water in the form of vinegar, lemon 
juice, or fresh, tart apples. 


Carrots are one of our best and 
least expensive year-round vege- 
tables. They are colorful and fairly 
bursting with body-building ma- 
terials. Serve them often, but in a 
variety of ways. 

Carrots cooked in a minimum 
amount of water, either whole, cut 
in strips, diced, or shredded are de- 
licious seasoned with a sauce made 
of melted butter, lemon juice, and 
minced parsley. Pour the sauce 
over the carrots just before serving. 
The bright green color of the par- 
sley is an appealing contrast to the 
deep orange of the carrots. 

If you have never served braised 
carrots or celery, do so soon. Cut 
the vegetables into three to four- 
inch lengths. For each quart of 
vegetables, melt two tablespoons 
butter in a heavy pan. Add the 
vegetable and cook over low heat in 



a covered pan for about ten min- 
utes. In the meantime, dissolve a 
bouillon cube in one-half cup hot 
water. Pour over the vegetable. 
Continue cooking until the vege- 
table is tender and the stock is re- 
duced in volume so it serves as a 

Carrots are delicious cooked with 
cabbage. Put two cups shredded 
carrots, one teaspoon salt, and one 
cup boiling water in a pan with a 
close flitting lid. Cook about ten 
minutes or until partly tender. Add 
three cups shredded cabbage and 
simmer, uncovered for ten minutes. 
Add two tablespoons butter, and 
pepper, if desired, and cook about 
five minutes longer. Carrots and 
turnips are also delicious cooked to- 
gether, mashed, and seasoned with 
butter, salt, and pepper. Carrots 
combine well in creamed and scal- 
loped dishes, as do most other vege- 

Sauces for Vegetables 

For creamed dishes the sauce 
should give the appearance of being 
a dressing on the food, therefore, 
less sauce than food should be used. 
More pleasing results are obtained 
if the sauce is poured over the hot 
vegetable rather than have the veg- 
etable stirred into the sauce. 

White sauce is the basis for all 
creamed dishes. It is important 
that it be the right consistency for 
the use intended. 

White Sauce 

Thin Medium Thick 
Butter 3 Tbs. 4 Tbs. 6 Tbs. 
Flour 2 Tbs. 4 Tbs. 8 Tbs. 
Salt 1 tsp. 1 tsp. 1 tsp. 

Pepper % tsp. % tsp. Vi tsp. 
Milk 2 cups 2 cups 2 cups 

Mix butter and flour in pan over 
low heat. When butter is melted, 
add all of the milk at once and stir 
until mixture is thick and smooth. 
Add seasonings. 

Scalloped Vegetables 

For scalloped vegetable dishes use 
one half to one cup of medium 
white sauce for each cup of cooked 
vegetables. Put alternating layers 
of vegetables and sauce into a bak- 
ing dish, then cover with a layer of 
buttered crumbs. Place in a moder- 
ate hot oven until the food is pip- 
ing hot and the crumbs are deli- 
cately browned. Grated cheese, 
either cheddar or Swiss, minced 
onion, or parsley may be added to 
the sauce, or the grated cheese may 
be sprinkled over the top about a 
minute before the dish is removed 
from the oven. 

Vegetable Souffles 

Vegetable souffle dishes are favo- 
rites in many homes. A souffle is 
an excellent way to use leftover veg- 
etables, such as carrots, green beans, 
peas, corn, and spinach. This basis 
of a souffle is a thick white sauce. 
Mix equal parts of vegetables and 
white sauce. Add from two to four 
well-beaten egg yolks for each cup- 
ful of sauce. Fold mixture carefully 
into the beaten egg whites. Turn 
into a well-oiled baking dish. Place 
the dish in a larger container of hot 
water. Bake in a moderate (35o°F) 
oven until mixture is firm and del- 
icately browned on top. A vege- 
table souffle served with a crisp sal- 
ad and a light dessert makes a com- 
plete meal. 

Variations of White Sauce 

"There are a variety of sauces using 
medium white sauce as a basis that 



may be served over vegetables to en- 
hance their natural flavor. Mock 
HoIIandaise sauce is delicious served 
over broccoli, asparagus, and cauli- 
flower. Cheese sauces add food 
value and complement the flavors 
of spinach, cabbage, cauliflower, 
and beans. Egg sauce and horse- 
radish sauce are others that add in- 
terest and delightful flavors to many 
vegetables. For exact amounts of 
ingredients to add to the white 
sauce for the particular sauce you 
desire, see any reliable cook book. 

Dress up your vegetables for va- 
riety's sake occasionally, but don't 
make a regular practice of it. Learn 
to know and appreciate the true, 

Note the supplementary material to this lesson in the article "Vegetables — A Dif- 
ferent Way Every Day, Part 11" by Rhea H. Gardner, on page 46 of this issue of 
The Relief Society Magazine. 

natural flavor of good vegetables, 
cooked well, and seasoned with but- 
ter and a little salt. 

Get out of the rut of serving the 
same vegetable over and over. There 
is such a variety for selection in our 
markets. Let it be a challenge to 
try out new ones as well as new 
methods of cooking them. 

Suggestions for the Class Leader 

1. Demonstrate the preparation of one 
or more unusual vegetable dishes or bring 
to the class some you have previously 

2. List vegetables that are not common- 
ly used which might be enjoyed by our 

JLtterature — The Literature of England 

Lesson 55-Thomas Hardy (1840-1928) "The Return of the Native" 

Elder Briant S. Jacobs 

(Textbook: The Literature of England, II, Woods, Watt, Anderson, pp. 918-926) 

For Tuesday, April 17, 1956 

Objective: To achieve greater insight into the world of Thomas Hardy by studying 
briefly his life, some of his poems, and one of his great novels (The Return of the 

HTHOMAS Hardy is one of the 
Titans of English Literature. 
He wrote fourteen novels and more 
than nine hundred poems. Because 
of such productivity Hardy can be 
known completely only by the 
scholar. Even when we select rigor- 
ously from his best works, it is most 
difficult within our small time span 
to choose that which represents 
fairly his basic excellences. 

Hardy's Life 

Hardy was born in Dorsetshire, a 
rural county bordering England's 
southern seacoast, which was to be- 
come the Wessex of his poems and 
the Egdon Heath of The Return of 
the Native. His father, a carpenter 
and mason, gave his son hardly 
more formal education than the 
three R's, but he made up for it by 
breaking him to the hard tasks of 



the building trades. At nights fa- 
ther and son rushed off to furnish 
music for weddings, christenings, 
and rural parties, Hardy playing the 
fiddle. Sundays they played in the 
local church. Thus Hardy's forma- 
tive years were shaped by no literary 
or artificial force; instead, he knew 
at first hand the very texture of 
common people. Throughout his 
more than fifty years of productivity 
this region furnished the artist 
Hardy with most of his tools: scene, 
language, characters. Likewise, his 
mood and theme, while more nearly 
his own, also echo this region's iso- 
lated somberness. Thus all the true 
roots within the essential Hardy- 
grew deep into his home soil and 
the common rural people it nur- 

The Lost Youth 

Young Hardy had long dreamed 
of becoming a minister. His nat- 
ural, boyish optimism was as pure 
and unbounded as Shelley's. As a 
youth he taught Sunday School and 
was active in the Anglican Church. 
When at the age of sixteen he was 
apprenticed to a church architect in 
nearby Dorchester, for the first time 
he had leisure to read. Soon he was 
studying each night after work from 
six until midnight. Throughout the 
next decade he still planned on en- 
tering the ministry, but increasingly 
he wavered between faith and doubt. 
Soon after he turned twenty-five 
Hardy realized, after close self-ex- 
amination, "that he could hardly 
take the step with honor," since, to 
his intense pain, he no longer found 
it possible to believe, desperately as 
he longed to (see his moving, sim- 
ple poem, "The Oxen," text, page 

A Perry Picture 



When we are tempted to blame 
the young Hardy for seeing the 
universe as being indifferently man- 
aged, then, in fairness and under- 
standing, we must recall how des- 
perately Hardy wished his view of 
reality could be otherwise, how de- 
voutly he coveted a faith which he 
could not know. Then we are more 
nearly ready to meet Hardy on his 
own terms and measure out to him 
the same sympathy which he meas- 
ures out in abundance to his charac- 

The Successful Hardy 

Though Hardy won prizes for his 
architectural skills, he found the 
drafting board tedious; still it was 
his living, since his first published 
works were not well received. In 
1870, when he was thirty, Hardy 



met Lavina Gifford. They were en- 
gaged but did not marry until four 
years later, since his desire to be- 
come a poet, even had it been ful- 
filled, scarcely could have kept 
them. Slowly realizing that writing 
poetry was a luxury he could not 
afford, Hardy began writing novels. 
When in 1874 ms ^ ar From the 
Madding Crowd sold well, Hardy 
felt an adequate income was assured 
and they were married. 

Within a period of twenty-four 
years Hardy published fourteen nov- 
els and many short stories, though 
he still considered himself primarily 
a poet. He wrote fiction to please 
a growing audience, not himself. 
When his Jude, the Obscure was 
harshly criticized in 1896, Hardy 
ceased writing novels, not so much 
because his feelings were hurt, but 
because he had made enough to live 
on the rest of his life, and because 
he had said everything in fiction he 
wanted to say. For the next thirty 
years and more he wrote poetry to 
please himself. 

His first wife was sometimes diffi- 
cult, yet at her death Hardy felt a 
genuine loss. With his second wife 
he knew greater peace. He had 
lived for a time in London, but in 
1885, the Hardys moved to the 
countryside of Dorsetshire, where 
they lived the rest of their lives. 

During his final decades Hardy 
was universally regarded as the 
grand old man of English letters. 
Through the years he had won more 
and more personal friends by the 
sweetness of his personality, as well 
as by kindness, deep sincerity, and 
freedom from hypocrisy and ambi- 
tion. When he died at the age of 
eighty-eight, the English public de- 

manded he be given the honor of 
burial in Westminster Abbey, but 
his dearest friends, knowing that 
his heart had ever been in the Dor- 
setshire soil, felt he should be 
buried there, which was done. 

Hardy's Nature 

That Hardy is pessimistic is the 
truth immediately evident in Hardy, 
but it is not the whole truth. First 
let us remember that Hardy, both 
as a man and as an artist, was domi- 
nated by great sincerity and great 
integrity: he believed as he did— 
he wrote as he did, because he could 
do no other. How desperately he 
wished he could believe. Next, 
only those holding a high concept 
of man can suffer beneath the pains 
of mortality as deeply as did Hardy. 
Basic to his writings is his belief, as 
he quoted from St. Jerome in his 
preface of Tess of the D'Urbervilles: 
"If an offense come out of the 
truth, better is it that the offense 
come than that the truth be con- 

He felt compelled to portray all 
of life as he saw it; he wanted to 
show how in lives of common, iso- 
lated people "dramas of a grandeur 
and unity truly Sophoclean are en- 
acted in the real, by virtue of the 
concentrated passions and closely 
knit interdependence of the lives 
therein." And by painting this 
common reality with such tender- 
ness and sympathy for the down- 
trodden that the reader cannot 
escape his accurate and vivid words, 
he defined the universal experience 
of all men, giving to the lives of 
average mankind a tragic signifi- 
cance hitherto unknown. Most im- 
portant, nature in Hardy is not evil; 
it is indifferent. Men's lives are 



controlled both by their own wills 
and by fate or doom. But though 
life sometimes seems aimless, our 
world is by no means the worst pos- 
sible. While many evils seem to re- 
sult from fate, others come from 
man's own failure to remedy his 
own inhumanity to his fellows. If 
man will but abandon his "robusti- 
ous swaggering optimism," which is 
"cowardly and insincere," says 
Hardy, he can improve man's lot 
through his own charity and under- 
standing. In an age which increas- 
ingly emphasized the machine over 
man, and the universe-as-machine 
versus the individual, Hardy be- 
lieved that first and last was the 
human soul, to be balmed through 
gentleness and love in the face of 
the suffering and cruelty it seems 
mortal's lot to bear. 

Hardy's Poems 

In his novels Hardy creates strong 
women and universal situations; but 
it is in his poems that Hardy reveals 
his more intimate self. Resisting 
any tendency to ornate imagery or 
elaborate rhyme schemes, Hardy's 
poems often depict the English 
working class as alternately frank, 
proud, self-belittling, fickle, weak, 
obstinate, stoical; often they are 
heavily tinged with Hardy's ironic 
humor, as in "A Beauty's Soliloquy 
During Her Honeymoon" (page 
919), "The Man He Killed" (page 
923), "A Workhouse Irony," and 
"Satires of Circumstance" (pp. 924- 
925), and "Ah, Are You Digging 
on My Grave?" (page 925). While 
several of the above have this sharp 
twist which makes us wince, basi- 
cally Hardy is lamenting the loneli- 
ness and suffering which all of us 
know in some degree. 

Some of his poems have a sense 
of oneness with nature, a delicacy 
and lightness which we find in 
Shakespeare and Robert Frost. 

The very lilt and word texture of 
Shakespeare are strong in the poem 
"Weather" (not in the textbook), 
which begins: 

This is the weather the cuckoo likes, 
And so do I ... . 

A fairly representative mid-note, 
not gay, is struck in "The Darkling 
Thrush," despite "Winter's dregs" 
and the "Century's corpse" (See 
text, page 920, lines 21-32 ) . 

In this poem, as in "The Oxen," 
lies the essential Hardy: lost, 
pained, aware "that life has bared 
its bones to me," yet "willing to 
give ten years of my life to see a 
ghost," he was eager to believe that 
life must be better than he had 
found it. The enduring, the classic 
Hardy is also best seen in his simple, 
moving "In Time of The Breaking 
of Nations'' (page 926), his re- 
assuring affirmation written during 
the first world war in protest to the 
ravages of war within the human 

Hardy, the Novelist 

For Virginia Woolf, Thomas 
Hardy is "one of the greatest writers 
of tragedy in fiction." His best 
novels create within themselves 
great poetic and dramatic power. 
Hardy is a master storyteller who, 
with a realist's eye, compassion, and 
an insight deep into humanity, in 
his best works, often told far better 
than he knew. 

The Return of the Native 
This novel, great as it is, might 



not be Hardy's greatest; but certain- 
ly it is his most representative. 
Within its pages we find humor, 
superstition, realism, romance, na- 
ture, conflict, suffering, tragedy. It 
illustrates Hardy's fundamental be- 
lief that "a novel is an impression, 
not an argument." Herein he argues 
nothing: instead he tells a great 
story with magnificent power as 
seen through the eyes of an observ- 
er, kindred but detached. 


Lovely, innocent Thomasin Yeobright 
lies concealed in the van of her former 
sweetheart Diggory Venn, the reddleman 
(or red ocher peddlar), as she returns 
from the town where she could not marry 
Damon Wildeve because the license was 
faulty. Wildeve had been infatuated with 
fiery Eustacia Vye, and wasn't too fervent 
in his desire to marry Thomasin. That 
same night Eustacia by building a huge 
bonfire signals Wildeve at his Quiet 
Woman Inn to come to her. Despite his 
vow to give her up, he goes to meet 
Eustacia, but each is unhappy. A boy 
reports their meeting to Diggory, who 
pleads with Eustacia to leave Wildeve for 
Diggory's beloved Thomasin, that she 
might be happy. 

When Thomasin's cousin, Clym Yeo- 
bright ("the native"), returns to the 
heath from his life as a diamond merch- 
ant in Paris, Eustacia goes disguised to 
the welcoming party. They fall in love, 
and Eustacia marries him partly because 
through him she hopes to escape the dull 
life on the heath. But Clym becomes 
nearly blind. When he becomes a menial 
brush-cutter, Eustacia feels degraded. 
Partly in resentment she begins seeing 
Wildeve again. Clym's mother from the 
beginning of the affair had distrusted 
Eustacia and opposed the marriage. Re- 
lenting, she called at their home, but be- 
cause Wildeve was there, Eustacia dared 
not answer her knock. Deeply hurt and 
exhausted, Mrs. Yeobright begins her re- 
turn over the hot, barren heath, but is 
bitten by a snake and dies. When Clym 
finds how she died, he orders Eustacia out 
of his house. She returns to her grand- 

father's house in despair and attempts 
suicide. Wildeve, now rich through an 
inheritance, pleads with her to elope with 
him. The night she leaves to meet him, 
Clym delivers to her room a letter of 
reconciliation which she fails to see. Wan- 
dering about on the dark heath either she 
falls or jumps into a pond. Wildeve hears 
her death-struggle and attempts to rescue 
her, but both drown. 

Here the original novel ended, but 
when his public objected to so gloomy 
an ending Hardy added a happier one. 
Clym gives up his attempt to lift up the 
heftth-folk by teaching them and becomes 
a traveling teacher, and the unselfish and 
patient Diggory finally wins Thomasin. 

Excerpts, Characters, Conflicts 

The great force in the novel is 
Eustacia, in conflict with the time- 
less Egdon Heath which has been 
her only home. In Book First, 
Hardy at once displays his powers 
by defining its majestic, brooding 
splendor. The beginning ''The 
heath wore the appearance of an 
installment of night . . . ." from 
chapter I, is a good example. 

Chapter III contains tangy talk 
and humor of the heath-folk and re- 
veals Hardy's delight in pixies, 
ghosts, and racy talk. Chapter VII 
describes Eustacia, "Queen of 
Night . . . raw material of a divin- 
ity," "Assuming that the souls of 
men and women were visible es- 
sences, you could fancy the colour 
of Eustacia's soul to be flame-like. 
The sparks from it that rose into 
her dark pupils gave the same im- 

In Book Second, chapter VII, 
Diggory brings to Wildeve, Eusta- 
cia's letter ending their relation, to 
Diggory's delight. For humor, 
irony, and reversal, read the dia- 
logue in which Diggory replies 
"Ru-um-tum-tum" to Wildeve's 



pained questions, only to have the 
tables completely turned a minute 

In Book Third, chapter II, 
Clym's great love for humankind is 
defined. For him the heath gives 
"a barbarous satisfaction at observ- 
ing that, in some of the attempts at 
reclamation from the waste, tillage, 
after holding on for year or two, 
had receded again in despair, the 
ferns and furze-tufts stubbornly re- 
asserting themselves." He was the 
heath, and completely at home 

One of the most powerful scenes 
is in chapter VIII, when Diggory 
wins back from Wildeve all the 
money he had won by gambling 
from innocent Christian. When a 
death's-head moth snuffs out the 
candle, and feverish Wildeve re- 
sumes throwing the dice in a des- 
perate effort to regain his losses— 
when a drove of wild ponies move 
out of the gloom, attracted by the 
light— then we have Hardy at his 
realistic best. 

For power of dialogue, read in 
Book Fourth the first chapter, 
when Eustacia and Mrs. Yeobright, 
her mother-in-law, flare up over a 
misunderstanding. Here are two 
strong wills that neither bend nor 
break each other. Chapter V re- 
cords Mrs. Yeobright's journey 
across the heath, and the painful 
conversation she tries to carry on 
with young Johnny Nunsuch after 
her son's door was not opened to 
her. The innocent bewilderment 
of the child, and the scarcely con- 
cealed heartbreak of the rebuffed 
mother are highlighted in a scene 
of great pathos and power, before 
she is bitten fatally by the snake. 

Book Fifth begins with Clym's 
lamenting to Eustacia that his 
mother had never called on them, 
while she has not yet told him that 
Mrs. Yeobright had come to their 
home and she had refused to an- 
swer the door. Here the irony is 
indeed painful. Then comes Clym's 
blind fury when he mistakenly feels 
that Eustacia was his mother's mur- 
derer. The climax of the novel is 
in chapter III when they confront 
each other. Clym accuses Eustacia, 
and while she knows, in part, she is 
guilty, her spirit is never broken. 
In chapter VII she wanders in con- 
fusion into the chaotic night. In 
chapter IX Wildeve and Clym 
hear her fall into the weir; both she 
and Wildeve are drowned. (Read 
what Clym says to Diggory as he 
looks at their bodies.) 

Book Sixth contains the tacked- 
on happy ending, in which Thomas- 
in marries Diggory. 

In this novel, then, are blended 
into one unified whole the scene, 
character, dialogue, theme, which 
embody Hardy's central conviction: 
Oh, would that man could be hap- 
py here below. But, as we witness 
the suffering, which is man's by his 
very nature, let us sympathize with 
our fellows, and stand in awe of the 
existence which seems to shape us 
to its own indifferent ends. 

Thoughts for Discussion 

i. What qualities must a writer possess 
to write great poetry and great fiction? 

2. What factors in Hardy's life are re- 
flected in his writings? 

3. Discuss Hardy's attitude toward na- 
ture ( 1 ) in his poetry; ( 2 ) in The Return 
of the Native. 

4. What effect might an understanding 
of the gospel have had on Hardy's life? 

Social Science — The Constitution 
of the United States 

Lesson 20— The Constitution and World Affairs 

Elder Albert R. Bowen 

For Tuesday, April 24, 1956 

Objective: To show how the United States evolved and developed from weakness 
to strength under a policy inaugurated by Washington, and to consider our country in 
relation to world affairs since World War I. 

Transition of the Nation From 
Weakness to Strength 

TOURING the first century and a 
quarter of her constitutional 
history, the United States developed 
from a position of perilous weakness 
to become the mightiest Nation the 
world has ever seen. This transition 
from weakness to strength is one of 
the greatest political miracles of the 
modern world. 

It is not to be supposed that the 
position of the United States among 
the nations is the result of fortuitous 
accident. It has come about be- 
cause of wise and statesmanlike lead- 
ership aided by Divine Providence. 

It often happens, not only in the 
affairs of men but likewise of na- 
tions, that the beginnings are of 
crucial importance. In order to gain 
a better understanding of our na- 
tional beginnings it should be use- 
ful to review the circumstances of 
our national birth. America did not 
arrive upon the world scene a strong 
and robust infant. The contrary 
was the fact- In all categories by 
which greatness in nations is meas- 
ured, except one, we were terribly 
weak and vulnerable. Our popula- 
tion was small, about four million, 

Page 66 

by 1789. We possessed no great 
cities nor centers of population and 
industry. The Nation was virtually 
without money or credit. We had 
no armed strength which deserved 
mention measured in terms of 
world power. Such population as 
we possessed was widely scattered 
with difficulties of travel and com- 
munication between each widely 
separated section almost insur- 

It is difficult to imagine in what 
way foreign invasion could have 
been successfully defended against 
in those early years, if undertaken 
by a strong, well-armed, and de- 
termined power. Threats of such 
attacks were very narrowly averted 
on many occasions. 

Wisdom of Early Leaders 

In one quality, however, the Unit- 
ed States possessed an abundant 
superiority. That superiority was 
founded in the wisdom of her great 
early leaders, headed by Washing- 
ton. Beginning with Washington, 
the United States launched upon 
her world journey, carefully steering 
a course the results of which bear 
eloquent testimony to the greatness 
of her leadership. It should not be 



deemed out of place to suggest at 
this point that we have not always 
followed as wisely as we were led. 
It should likewise not be considered 
out of place to suggest that the per- 
ils of our day are as great as those 
of Washington's day, and require as 
enlightened a leadership as in any 
iod of our history. 

Constitutional History, 1789-1800 

The constitutional history of the 
United States, in relation to world 
events, may be divided into three 
phases or periods. The first of 
these periods was from about 1789 
to 1800. This period might be 
characterized as the period during 
which the United States was strug- 
gling to escape from the toils of 
European entanglements. 

Principle of Neutrality 

It will be remembered that dur- 
ing the perilous days of the Revolu- 
tion we entered into an alliance 
with France- This was implement- 
ed by two treaties. One a treaty of 
friendship; and, two, an alliance 
which required each party to come 
to the aid of the other in case of 
attack. When France, under Na- 
poleon, became involved with the 
rest of Europe in a series of wars, 
she remembered the American 
treaty, and demanded that the 
United States should enter those 
wars as her ally in return for the 
help she had rendered during the 
Revolution. In 1793, Washington 
and his Cabinet, after very carefully 
weighing the provisions of the trea- 
ty, concluded that its terms did not 
require the United States to enter 
this war on the side of France. It 
was firmly decided that the United 
States would remain neutral. 

There followed a period of sev- 
eral years during which the Ameri- 
can Nation had to suffer great in- 
dignity at the hands of both Britain 
and France in asserting and attempt- 
ing to uphold the principle of neu- 
trality and free trade. American 
shipping, property, and citizens were 
seized with contemptuous impunity, 
and many American sailors were im- 
pressed to fight in British warships 
against the French. 

In spite of the insults and the 
great injuries suffered, the United 
States steadfastly refused to recede 
from its position of neutrality and 
continued to protest and assert its 
citizens' right to free access to the 
markets of the world as non-belliger- 
ent and peaceful traders. This pol- 
icy was maintained despite the de- 
mands of many Americans who 
were sympathetic to the French 
cause and who would have fought 
with France against England. 

In his Farewell Address, Wash- 
ington laid down the principles of 
American foreign policy which were 
adhered to by succeeding adminis- 
trations from that time until World 
War I. His philosophy of neutral- 
ity is expressed in this language: 

In the execution of such a plan [neu- 
trality] nothing is more essential than that 
permanent, inveterate antipathies against 
particular nations and passionate attach- 
ments for others should be excluded; and 
that, in place of them, just the amiable 
feelings towards all should be cultivated. 
. . . The nation which indulges towards 
another an habitual hatred or an habitual 
fondness is in some degree a slave. It is 
a slave to its animosity or to its affection, 
either of which is sufficient to lead it 
astray from its duty and its interest. 

It should not be supposed that 
this American policy laid down by 
Washington emerged spontaneous- 



ly. It was the result of experience 
coupled with great wisdom and fore- 
sight on the part of the Nation's 
leaders who announced it. It is an 
historical fact that the colonies of 
England in the New World had 
been drawn into every European 
quarrel which England entered be- 
fore the Revolution, beginning with 
King William's War, in 1689, and 
ending with the French and Indian 
War in 1763 in which Washington 
himself had fought. In all of those 
struggles the colonies suffered seri- 
ous loss in life and property and 
had received no compensating gain 
of any kind. At the end of each of 
those wars the peace was made in 
Europe without consulting Ameri- 
cans, and the situation, so far as it 
concerned Americans, was returned 
to the same position as before the 
struggle was commenced. These 
wars were primarily dynastic quar- 
rels involving Britain, France, Spain, 
and Austria. Our forefathers learned 
by bitter experience that it was a 
costly and profitless adventure to 
fight in the quarrels of Europe- 
Thus equipped with the lessons of 
the past, Washington and those 
who followed him, determined that 
the strength and vitality of the new 
Nation should not be dissipated by 
taking sides in foreign wars. 

In his Farewell Address, Wash- 
ington made the shrewd and states- 
manlike prediction that if America 
adhered strictly to her own concerns 
and followed a policy of friendship 
toward all nations, that day would 
come when America would be 
strong and independent, capable of 
following an independent course of 

He said: 

If we remain one people, under an ef- 
ficient government, the period is not far 
off, when we may defy material injury 
from external annoyance; when we may 
take such an attitude as will cause the 
neutrality we may at any time resolve up- 
on to be scrupulously respected. When 
belligerent nations, under the impossibil- 
ity of making acquisitions upon us, will 
not lightly hazard the giving us provoca- 
tion when we may choose peace or war, 
as our interest, guided by our justice, 
shall counsel .... 

The wisdom, the foresight, and 

the sagacity of Washington and his 

successors have been so abundantly 

proved by events, as to leave no 

room for doubt or disagreement. 

Constitutional History, 

During the Nineteenth Century, 
the predictions of Washington be- 
came a reality. The Monroe Doc- 
trine was announced in 1823, which 
excluded the European nations from 
further acquisitions of territory in 
the New World. In the meantime, 
the borders of the United States 
were widened until they encom- 
passed all territory between the At- 
lantic and the Pacific. The Ameri- 
can policy of neutrality was strength- 
ened, the doctrine of Freedom of 
the Seas was developed and success- 
fully asserted. America was not in- 
volved in a single non-American war 
until World War I. 

Constitutional History, 1917— 

With World War I we began the 
third phase of American world af- 
fairs. We have completely, or near- 
ly so, reversed our traditional world 
policy until now our commitments 
and responsibilities have become 
world-wide. We are furthermore 
committed to a whole series of al- 
liances and treaties which bind us 
to the fate of other nations, and 



which have destroyed the freedom 
of action which we enjoyed during 
the great development of our coun- 
try into a mighty world power. The 
question we must now ask ourselves 
is, where is this new American 
world policy leading us? 

Under the Constitution the con- 
duct of our foreign affairs is divided 
between the President of the Unit- 
ed States and Congress. To the 
President is given the command of 
our armed forces, and upon him is 
placed the responsibility of defend- 
ing and protecting the Nation from 
external attack. To Congress, how- 
ever, is committed the power to de- 
clare war. 

Emergency Powers oi 
the President 

Congress has conferred upon the 
President many powers that the Ex- 
ecutive may use only in time of 
"emergency." There has been, and 
continues to be, great controversy 
over these powers, but it is generally 
agreed that the President decides 
what shall be regarded as an 
"emergency" However, it is clear 
that the President uses these pow- 
ers mainly in times of foreign dan- 
ger or periods of economic depres- 

President J. Reuben Clark, Jr. in 
his address (November 21, 1952) 
entitled "Let Us Not Sell Our Chil- 
dren Into Slavery," warns the Na- 
tion against the augmentation of the 
President's war powers, beyond the 
provisions of the Constitution. He 
reminds us that the war powers 
prescribed by the Constitution are 
all in Congress, except, of course, 
that the President is Commander 
in Chief of the Armed Forces. 

. . . But when that body [Congress] 

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passes laws to implement these powers, 
then the execution of these laws becomes 
the duty and responsibility of the Chief 
Executive, and the powers granted by such 
laws, and only those so granted, consti- 
tute the war powers of the President as 
Chief Executive. But none of such pow- 
ers are inherent in the office of the Chief 
Executive .... 

But as our laws show, such Chief Ex- 
ecutive powers (conferred upon him by 
Congress in time of war) may be of the 
widest scope, including provisions deroga- 
tory and even largely destructive of the 
ordinary peace-time civil rights of indi- 

However, to repeat, this authority and 
these powers are to be measured exclusive- 
ly by the express statutory enactments of 
the Congress ... as specifically author- 
ized by Constitutional provision. They are 
not to be considered as growing out of, 
or in any necessary way, concerned with, 
related to, or enlarged by his powers as 
Commander in Chief .... 

It is wholly governed by Constitutional 
provision and limitation. Thus-far-shalt- 
thou-go-and-no-farther is inherent in the 
whole situation (Clark: J. Reuben, Jr., 
"Let Us Not Sell Our Children Into 

Treaty Making Power 

The treaty-making power under 
the Constitution is likewise divided. 
It is the duty and prerogative of 
the Presidential Office to negotiate 
treaties, to appoint all ambassadors, 
consular officers, and representa- 
tives, and to conduct our foreign af- 
fairs. All treaties and diplomatic 
appointments are subject to Senate 
ratification. It is interesting to see 
how this constitutional authority, 
divided as it is, has worked out in 
actual practice. 

Commitment of Armed Forces 
Previous to Declaration of War 
As far as the wars in which 

America has been involved are con- 
cerned, declaration of war in every 
case, except one, has followed the 
commitment of our armed forces 
to action by the President. The sole 
exception was the war of 1812. 
American armed forces have been 
sent abroad into action over one 
hundred times in engagements too 
limited in scope to be defined as 
war. Our recent experience in the 
Korean War is a case in point. 
United States troops were ordered 
into action with no previous con- 
sultation of Congress whatsoever. 
In the case of World War II, ag- 
gressive, war-like action was under- 
taken upon presidential order far in 
advance of war declaration. 

Intention oi Founding Fathers 

It was not intended by the Found- 
ing Fathers that the presidential 
authority should extend to making 
war without the action of Congress 
to approve it. On the other hand, 
it was also not intended that the 
hands of the President should be 
helplessly tied in the event world 
crises made it imperative, in the 
face of national peril, to use the 
Nation's armed forces to repel at- 
tack or to prevent a threatened at- 
tack from becoming successful. 

In this sphere of constitutional 
function it was impossible to draw 
the lines sharply and with absolute 
certainty. Under these conditions 
the personality of the President is 
of unique and very special impor- 
tance. Our history has proved that 
the United States can be commit- 
ted to war by the President. Once 
we are so committed it is very dif- 
ficult if not impossible to withdraw. 

In the case of Korea, perhaps, it 



may be said that the President acted 
to meet a situation requiring instant 
decision. Without debating the 
merits of the Korean War or of any 
other war in which the United 
States has been engaged in the past, 
one thing at least stands out with 
crystal clarity— may heaven preserve 
us from the misfortune of an irre- 
sponsible, ambitious President who 
could, without our consent, involve 
us in foreign adventures which 
could result in our destruction! 

It must be remembered that the 
conditions of this modern world 
are so critical and so pressing that 
strong, decisive, speedy action is of- 
ten necessary. The President alone 
can provide this kind of action. 
Consequently many are willing to 
give very far-reaching powers to the 
President. Others fear our republi- 
can form of Government cannot be 
maintained if further, stronger pow- 
ers are placed in the hands of one 
Executive. Thoughtful citizens 
therefore fear future misuse of such 
near-absolute power and must know 
constitutional provisions for separa- 
tion of powers, checks and balances, 
in order to vote intelligently for 
men who will act to keep the word 
and spirit of the Constitution. 

Questions on the Lesson 

i. What was Washington's foreign pol- 

2. Why did he adopt such a policy? 

3. What are the three phases of the 
Constitutional history of the United 
States in relation to world affairs? 

4. What had been this country's ex- 
perience in foreign relations before the 

5. What does the term "Freedom of 
the Seas" mean? 

6. What is the Monroe Doctrine? 


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the Constitution affect war or peace in 
America? What is the function of the 
President in time of danger? What is the 
function of Congress at such times? 

8. In the history of the United States 
has war followed a declaration by Con- 
gress or preceded it? 

9. Why is the personality of the Presi- 
dent important to the question of war 
or peace? 

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VOL 43 NO. 2 
Lessons for May 



■;vJ;' : 



Sttti vi/htte ui( 


Dorothy J. Roberts 

Not inexorable in their power, 

The years and distance lend a still, white hour. 

On mounded hush, you cross, and leave no trace, 
The long way back to me through time and place. 

And far beyond the field's unsullied snow 
You lead me to the land of long ago— 

The rutted lane, the gelding's crystal track. 
By these familiar places I come back 

To humped canal and quilted arc of hill. 
A tingling pulse denies the evening chill. 

Companioned still, I mark the winter dune; 
In your eyes pool again the opal moon. 

On blades of steel I sign the frozen pond, 

Your crossed hands clasping mine in mittened bond. 

Your words are vapor on the frosty night; 
Each murmur but a passing mist of white. 

With muted step along the fettered streams, 
I walk with you the land of youth and dreams. 

The Cover: Flats and Old Windmill Relic in Wickham Terrace 
Brisbane, Queensland, Australia 

Photograph Courtesy Australian National Publicity Association 
Submitted by Leah Liljenquist 

Frontispiece: Mount Olympus, Utah, and Meadow Land in Winter 
Photograph by Peterson Studios, Salt Lake City, Utah 

Cover Design by Evan Jensen 

Page 73 

C/rom I Lear and QJar 

May I tell you how much I like the 
article "Wearing a Pretty Face," by Mabel 
Law Atkinson, in the October 1955 issue 
of the Magazine. It is one of the most 
inspiring features I have ever read. I am 
reminded that time for New Year's reso- 
lutions is drawing near, and among those 
which I shall make I shall incorporate the 
philosophy contained in Mrs*. Atkinson's 
article. And just to make certain that I 
remember to wear a pretty face myself, 
I shall keep a copy of the October Maga- 
zine handy so that I can refer to it often. 

— Edna Day 

Idaho Falls, Idaho 

I particularly enjoyed the story "The 
Scarlet Cloak of Love," by Lane Stanaway 
Christian in the December Magazine, and 
also the lovely poem "Christmas Night," 
by Eva Willes Wangsgaard. The poem is 
an exquisite piece with a deeper meaning 
implied! I was proud to be in the same 
issue with that fine work! 

— Maude Rubin 

Santa Ana, California 

I was proud of the story "The Scarlet 
Cloak of Love," by Lane Stanaway Christ- 
ian in the December issue of The Relief 
Society Magazine, and the poem "The 
Greater Part," by Delia Adams Leitner, 
my Idaho friends. I also enjoyed the 
article "Mother Had a Way," by Leone 
E. McCune. I met her at a writer's con- 
vention in Logan some time ago. By 
way of commendation for the literature 
lessons, I might say that while attending 
a convention in Boise last fall, I was seat- 
ed between two college professors, teach- 
ers of English literature. During the din- 
ner their conversation turned to the great 
writers of the ages. I was surely appre- 
ciative of the fine course of study which 
has been given us in the literature les- 
sons, for I was able to follow them and 
join in the conversation. 

■ — Frances C. Yost 

Bancroft, Idaho 

I like the serial "Hermanas" currently 
running in The Relief Society Magazine 
very well. It has more to it than some 
of the other serials have had, and its ef- 
fectiveness is enhanced by the foreign set- 
ting. It is beautifully written, and the 
Church element is brought in naturally — 
not thrown in. 

— Dorothy Clapp Robinson 

Boise, Idaho 

I especially enjoyed and appreciated the 
short articles in the August issue. How 
simply stated, yet how powerful are the 
sermons without preaching in "Light 
Bulbs," by Elsie Scott; "An Invisible 
Means of Support," by Caroline E. Min- 
er; "Watchers," by Kate Richards (I 
needed this); "Trouble," by Lucille R. 
Taylor; "A Song of the Heart" (lovely, 
lovely), by Elsie Sim Hansen; and "Look 
to the Mountains," by Blanche Johnson. 
How beautifully and effectively stated are 
the timeless values in "Family Patterns" 
(editorial by Marianne C. Sharp). My 
heart sang a prayer of gratitude as I read 
it. Since that first reading I have reread 
it many times and have caught a glimpse 
of the glorious possibilities that are mine 
as a mother and grandmother — and I 
hope a great-grandmother. I am glad for 
the help this article gave me in teaching 
these truths to my group in our home. 
I am deeply appreciative for all the help 
we receive in our effort to get our own 
to see the importance of courtship, its 
sacredness and meaning in the joyous 
married life anticipated. Surely our lead- 
ers are inspired in the messages they give 
us through our Magazine from time to 

■ — Mabel Law Atkinson 

Salt Lake City, Utah 

We certainly appreciate The Relief So- 
ciety Magazine and receive much joy and 
instruction from reading through each 

— Asael T. Sorensen 

Brazilian Mission 
Sao Paulo, Brazil 

Page 74 


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 
Anna B. Hart Leone O. Jacobs Mildred B. Eyring Winniefred S. 

Edith S. Elliott Louise W. Madsen Helen W. Anderson Manwaring 

Florence J. Madsen Aleine M. Young Gladys S. Boyer Elna P. Haymond 

Leone G. Layton Josie B. Bay Charlotte A. Larsen Annie M. Ellsworth 

Blanche B. Stoddard Christine H. Robinson Edith P. Backman Mary R. Young 

Evon W. Peterson Alberta H. Christensen 

Editor ------------ Marianne C. Sharp 

Associate Editor Vesta P Crawford 

General Manager ----- Belle S. Spafford 

Vol. 43 FEBRUARY 1956 No. 2 


on tents 


Leadership Adam S. Bennion 76 

The Australian Mission Preston Nibley 88 

Tribute to the Visiting Teachers Wanda Pexton 103 

The Majestic View Ruth Wilson 103 

World of Three Nell Murbarger 104 

Table Decorations for Anniversary Day Inez R. Allen 106 


Keep Me Forever — Second Prize Story Margaret Hardy 82 

There Is Still Time — Chapter 1 Margery S. Stewart 90 

Hermanas — Chapter 8 — Conclusion Fay Tarlock 111 


From Near and Far 74 

Sixty Years Ago 96 

Woman's Sphere Ramona W. Cannon 97 

Editorial: Anniversary Day Belle S. Spafford 98 

In Memoriam — Mary Grant Judd 100 

Birthday Congratulations to Former President Amy Brown Lyman 100 

Notes to the Field: Notes From the Field Should Be Submitted Promptly 101 

Programs for Anniversary Day -" 101 

Notes From the Field: Relief Society Activities Margaret C. Pickering 118 


Recipes From Australia Irene T. Erekson 102 

Salads for Health and Beauty Rhea H. Gardner 108 

Mary Blanchard Williams Decorates Cakes 110 

Miniature Plants Elizabeth Williamson 117 


Theology: Christ Among the Nephites Leland H. Monson 122 

Visiting Teacher Messages: ". . . For Behold, Ye Are Free; Ye Are Permitted to Act For 

Yourselves" Edith S. Elliott 127 

Work Meeting: Salads Rhea H. Gardner 128 

Literature: Review of English Literature Briant S. Jacobs 130 

Social Science: The Fruits of Freedom Albert R. Bowen 137 


Still, White Hour — Frontispiece Dorothy J. Roberts 73 

Snowscape Eva Willes Wangsgaard 81 

Snow Christie Lund Coles 95 

"Down Under" Ruth MacKay 103 

Prairie Winter Grace Barker Wilson 109 

Time Mabel Jones Gabbott 110 

Retrospect Anna Rice 121 

My New Home Pearl D. Bringhurst 144 

Rocketeer Maude Rubin 144 


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Page 75 


Elder Adam S. Bennion 
Of the Council of the Twelve 

[Address Delivered at the Annual General Relief Society Conference, 

September 28, 1955] 

SISTER Spafford, Sister McKay, 
I think it was Elbert Hubbard 
once who was asked, "Is a 
woman as good as a man?" and he 
made that classic remark, "She is 
if she is." Now, having heard these 
singers and these speakers, they are! 

It is an honor to be here. The 
comprehensiveness of the presenta- 
tions, the loveliness of this music- 
Berkeley is a kind of second home 
to me, and I'd like these lovely 
ladies to go back with my tribute 
that this has been some of the most 
beautiful music I have ever heard— 
and to think that it comes from 
one of the stakes of Zion— this is a 
wonderful Church. 

I have been assigned a subject- 
there are many things which I think 
I should like to talk about this 
morning— but I have been given the 
subject of leadership. I hesitate to 
launch it because you do such an 
eminently good job, I know you 
are wonderfully well led, and all 
of you are the leaders of this great 

Since childhood, I have been 
brought up on the sanctity of the 
Relief Society tradition, the tradi- 
tion of helpful, unselfish service. 
Sister Bennion always insists this is 
the finest organization in the 
Church, and though I am a Sunday 
School man, we never quarrel. 

Here is an institution which all 
through its illustrious history has 
been guided by the inspiration of 

Page 76 

leadership. As a matter of fact, I 
am impressed that good leadership 
is the key to every organization that 
succeeds. Civilization over and over 
bears witness that that statement is 
true. Try to imagine the advance- 
ment of Greece without Plato and 
Socrates and Aristotle. Think of 
Rome without her Caesar and her 
Cicero, or England without Glad- 
stone, Disraeli, the Pitts, and 
Churchill. And what might Ameri- 
ca have been or not have been 
without Washington, Jefferson, 
Hamilton, and Lincoln? 

I have thought of the progress of 
this great organization. You try to 
think of it without the achieving 
inspiration of such leaders as Emma 
Smith, Eliza R. Snow, Zina D. H. 
Young, Bathsheba Smith, Emme- 
line B. Wells, Clarissa S. Williams, 
Louise Y. Robison, Amy Brown Ly- 
man, and Belle S. Spafford. A man 
is proud to pay tribute to that kind 
of women leaders in very deed. 

Leadership has made this organ- 
ization memorable all through the 
history of the Church throughout 
the stakes and down through the 
wards. Week after week, as we go 
out to these conferences, we thrill 
at the goodness of the people. It 
is wonderful to come into an audi- 
ence like this. That roll call to me 
was tremendous. I could not af- 
ford to sit and let one stake detract 
from a one-hundred-per-cent re- 



VfOW, under your gracious invita- 
tion, you want to become still 
better leaders, and you give to me 
the invitation to think through for 
a few minutes with you what it is 
that makes for leadership and the 
development of power in it. I am 
mindful that leaders are born as 
well as made, and we cannot all be 
equally strong. You remember the 
words of Abraham: 

Now the Lord had shown unto me, 
Abraham, the intelligences that were or- 
ganized before the world was; and among 
all these there were many of the noble 
and great ones; 

And God saw these souls that they 
were good, and he stood in the midst of 
them, and he said: These I will make my 
rulers; for he stood among those that 
were spirits, and he saw that they were 
good; and he said unto me: Abraham, 
thou art one of them; thou wast chosen 
before thou wast born ( P. of G. P., Book 
of Abraham 3:22-23). 

No one can read the history of 
God's work and not know that he 
has chosen his inspired leaders. We 
cannot all reach the heights of Abra- 
ham, but we can all add to our 
stature. Under stimulation and di- 
rection, we can more nearly ap- 
proach our potential, and so, if I 
may enjoy the spirit of this remark- 
able occasion, and the spirit of the 
Lord, I should like to offer you five 
suggestions which we have de- 
veloped in the last quarter of a 
century in the world of business as 
we have undertaken to build lead- 
ers in a great organization. 

I come to you today with the 
conviction that the principles, the 
basic principles, hold in religious 
circles quite as they do in secular 
realms. These suggestions are a 
little homely; they have come from 

men who have achieved. They are 
from sales managers and plant su- 
perintendents, crew foremen in a 
workaday world, and they smack 
a little of the earth. They are 
couched in terms of the shop and 
the field; they are in the language 
of your sons who earn their bread 
by the sweat of their faces. I have 
to ask a little indulgence. I have 
debated whether I should do this. 
I am talking to a group of lovely 
and refined women, and I am going 
to bring you some English that isn't 
of my training (that used to be my 
major field, and so I am aware of 
the colloquialisms), but I like the 
effectiveness of the way these men 
have said these things. And so will 
you take them, right off the vine, 
and if you are a little annoyed at 
them, you refine them, will you? I 
am sure the sense is good; the words 
are a little on the rough side. As a 
matter of fact, I bring them to you 
in a sort of recipe. I left the house 
this morning with the odor of chili 
sauce in my nostrils. 

I was impressed, Sister Romney, 
with your description of Central 
America — I want to see that some 
time, but I want to tell you in the 
fall of the year, it's hard to beat 
chili sauce. 

Now, will you let me bring you 
a homely kind of recipe. This 
almost smacks of chili, too. 

I7IVE suggestions which have been 
given me, and which have been 
worked out, and which have been 
translated into courses of leader- 
ship. I take you where you are; I 
bid you to aspire to be stronger to- 
morrow than you are today, and in 
that spirit, I bring you these sug- 



1. You gotta know your stuff. 

2. You gotta understand people. 

3. You gotta spread a contagion. 

4. You gotta see through today 
to tomorrow. 

5. You gotta have help. 

VTOW, you needn't worry if I went 
a little bit fast for you, because 
I'm going to back up. But that's it, 
and I just want to fill in a little. 

Will you pardon that "gotta." 
G-o-double-t-a. It isn't in the dic- 
tionary, but I like it. It carries 
with it a kind of compulsion, if you 
would achieve the end result. 

First, you gotta know your stuff. 
The man who said that, for twenty 
years had been the leading salesman 
in our organization, and he said 
there is no substitute for it. You 
who lead in the field of social 
science or in work projects or in 
theological lessons or in visits to 
the home, did you notice the com- 
prehensiveness of the suggestions 
of Sister Spafford this morning? To 
be equipped, really to know what 
to do, an executive must know— a 
leader must be familiar with a 
wealth of information. 

For years I have been saying the 
man who presumes or aspires to be 
a leader should know more, or 
should be learning more, than any- 
body in the group to be led. Now 
that makes provision for the young 
worker. He may not know so much 
now, but he can be learning faster, 
he can be working harder. I am 
always impressed that Jesus spoke, 
". . . as one having authority . . ." 
(Mt. 7:29). Inspired of his Fa- 
ther, he knew the word, he knew 
the truth. 

The Prophet Joseph was asked, 

"What do you believe?" and he 
gave in answer that tremendous 
statement couched in the Articles 
of Faith. No man could have done 
that who was not prepared, pre- 
pared under the inspiration of God 
Almighty. He was the Prophet's 

I cannot tell you where you will 
get your information; did we have 
the time to expand it, I would just 
weary you. The plain fact is that 
a leader— can't improve on the lan- 
guage—you gotta know your stuff. 
You teach a lesson, you must know 
it. You've gone through it, you 
know it thoroughly well. You can- 
not teach well when you prepare 
your lesson on the way to Relief 
Society meeting. The best teacher 
prepares his lessons months in ad- 
vance and matures them and dreams 
about them, and fills them in and 
enriches them. 

Suggestion No. 1, You gotta know 
your stuff. 

I was thinking of the second one 
all the time Sister Romney was 
speaking. See the contrast, from 
the classic loveliness of the music 
of Berkeley Stake to the native cos- 
tumes and the bare feet of Central 
America— and we are called to min- 
ister in both fields. "You have to 
understand people." And be able 
to make the allowance to adjust. 
Look, every leader must have fol- 
lowers, and the followers are peo- 
ple, and people are born into the 
world with instincts which they de- 
velop out of an environment— and 
people are what they are. (If there 
were more men here, I'd say some 
of us are odd creatures.) 

People are a challenge. I have 



been working with young people all 
my life. You work so hard to try 
to understand youth, and you just 
begin to feel that perhaps you do 
a little bit, and along comes a new 
generation— new slang, new dress, 
new everything. I saluate you, if 
you understand your group. I con- 
fess that I do not. And the more 
people I see and work with, the 
less I seem to know about them. 
But it is a fascinating challenge to 
try to understand them. Why do 
some people get bored, and why are 
some people annoyed, and why do 
some people never seem to warm 
up to the truth? This is part of 
your challenge. With their feelings, 
with their inertia, with their aspira- 
tions, with their occasional preju- 
dices, with their fixed opinions 
sometimes. How do you under- 
stand them, and how do you appeal 
to them to move them? What a 

A leader must be aware, first of 
all, of all these differences, and 
then he must have the genius to 
reconcile them and to inspire a re- 
sponse. It is one of the great chal- 
lenges of leadership! 

The third suggestion, "You gotta 
spread a contagion. 

We have an odd way in America, 
whenever there is a contagious 
disease, we hang a little yellow strip 
out on the door saying, "You better 
not come in, you'll come down with 
something/' I wish I had the geni- 
us to put a little badge across every 
leader's forehead which would in- 
vite in these terms, "Come on in 
and mingle with us, and you'll come 
up with something.' 7 We haven't 
done it, I wish we might. I would 
like to have the genius to do that. 

"You have to spread a contag- 
ion!' Look, some days are tough, 
some days you are tired, some days 
you are worn out, I know that. I 
was in a home the other night 
where there was a little family of 
seven children, and I wondered how 
the mother keeps it up. The ever- 
lasting who, where, why, and how— 
men have such an easy task as com- 
pared with women who bring up 
and train and nurture little chil- 
dren. I have always said it, I salute 

Now I know you get tired, and 
when things go wrong, I suppose 
you get a little out of sorts, but the 
tough days will never make a leader 
out of you if the discouragement 
gets you down. "You gotta spread 
a contagion." 

Leave the ills and the worries and 
the unfortunate things back in the 
closet. When you go out to Relief 
Society, take the cheer, rise above 
the circumstance, and aspire to in- 
spire fine workers. This is scant 
treatment of a homemade recipe, 
but it is there. 

What do they come up with from 
you? I can't put it better than that. 
They are tired, too, and they are a 
little discouraged, and they are hav- 
ing some difficulty, and sometimes 
their husbands are unmindful of 
them. Sometimes they are facing 
catastrophe; sometime they are try- 
ing to climb up out of sin. What 
do you do for them? That's the 
challenge of spreading a contagion— 
you just have to reach out with the 
spirit that gives them the buoyancy 
of soul that will lead them to ac- 
complish their aspirations. 

And the fourth suggestion, "You 
gotta see through today to tomoi- 



row/' The leader always is a man 
of vision. Let me get into my own 
group. The leader is a woman of 
vision. She is a long-range worker. 
She is a pioneer of thought. She 
plans ahead, so that she always 
knows the next move. She looks 
the year's work through. That 
gives her time to arrange the de- 
tails for the program ahead. Special 
days, special occasions, fascinating 
problems, and challenging and in- 
triguing questions. By being pre- 
pared in advance, she can anticipate 
all of those. More than that, she 
can meditate along the way. A pre- 
liminary thinking conjures up new 
ideas, and the more you turn them 
over, the more they breed addition- 
al ideas. The trouble with eleventh- 
hour preparation is there is no time 
for hatching the idea. 

This is crude, particularly in this 
presence, but no hen ever hatches 
an egg in a hurry. She sits— as a 
matter of fact— I like it a little bet- 
ter if you say she "sets," and you 
gotta "set" long enough to warm 
the eggs to hatch them. I want to 
tell you, some of us sit on ideas, and 
we are so cold and the period is so 
brief, they can never be "hatched." 
Well, pardon the crudeness of that 
—I came off the farm, you'll soon 

Will you let me borrow another 
figure from the farm? "Once you 
look over the fence, you can see 
the field out ahead, but you can 
never see the field if you are all the 
time looking behind the fence." 
You gotta get up where you can 
see, "you gotta see through today 
to tomorrow." 

"Well, you are gracious and pa- 

tient. I want to give you the fifth 

"You gotta have help." 

Real leaders are always strong in- 
dividuals, but they are seldom solo- 
ists. They solicit help, and they 
capitalize on the strength of the 
men they lead. Every man and 
every woman has some contribu- 
tion to make. That is the glory of 
being children of God. Nobody is 
born into the world, so far as I am 
able to find, wholly devoid of ideas, 
and the wise leader capitalizes on 
the strength of his group. There is 
a little bit to be added by every 
woman here this morning; could we 
clear the decks here, there would 
come a suggestion from every good 
woman in this presence, and the 
sum total of what you give is the 
strength of this gathering. 

VfOW, you work in the field of re- 
ligion. I want to close with the 
thought that brings you the real 
help. I am just back from a stirring 
experience up in the Northwest, 
with the boys who are up there on 
missions. I've listened to their testi- 
monies, and one boy stood up and 
said, "I was frightened; I was nearly 
afraid to death when I first came, I 
seemed such a kid, but, you know, 
I soon learned I never called on a 
home alone." I like that. He said, 
"Somebody seemed always to go 
along with me, and it wasn't just 
my companion." 

Dinsmore said it beautifully, "If 
no help had ever come from God" 
(if you get nothing else out of what 
I say today, take this one back, will 
you? I would have read for weeks 
to get this line), "If no help had 



ever come from God, the impulse 
to pray would have died out long 

After you have done all that you 
can, after you have worked to the 
full of your capacities, after you 
have given your whole concern and 
your whole heart to this labor, you 
go out with the wonderful assur- 
ance that there is help for you. 

I think one of the richest prom- 
ises in all sacred Scripture is Doc- 
trine and Covenants, section 112, 
verse 10— it is a favorite of mine— 
"Be thou humble; and the Lord thy 
God shall lead thee by the hand, 
and give thee answer to thy 
prayers." And that promise we give 
to you fine workers. You do not 
work alone. You need help, as the 
boy said, "You've gotta have help," 
and it is yours for the asking. 

And so, summing it up in a word: 

you gotta know your stuff; you got- 
ta understand people; you gotta 
spread a contagion; you gotta see 
through today to tomorrow; and you 
gotta have help. 

Do you want to translate this 
homely little recipe into a tangible 
idea? I bid you to observe the First 
Presidency of this Church: I think 
one of the strongest First Presiden- 
cies in 125 years. I pay them that 
tribute. This honored wife today 
of one of the greatest prophets ever 
to live could give you the intimate 
witness that leadership is bestowed 
upon that Presidency, because they 
have achieved it, and it can be be- 
stowed upon you, on the same 

God bless you and sustain you 
and magnify you, I pray, in the 
name of the Lord, Jesus Christ. 


Eva WiJIes Wangsgaard 

We reached the snow-wrapped hilltop where a blast 

Of wind caught up a plume of smoke and hurled 

It fiercely at the clouds. Below, a vast 

Array of wintered hills made up the world. 

The drifts were deep and furry on our hill 

Where rippled shadows, blue and violet, lay; 

But mountain peaks were calcite-sharp and chill, 

Majestic, crystalline, and far away. 

The house from which the blue-gray smoke had climbed 

Lay with its sheds, half-hidden in a swale. 

They seemed just smaller hills all winter-rimed 

Till someone walked there, swinging a sunlit pail, 

A sign of homely warmth, a fruitful stall; 

And peace, no longer cold, lay over all. 

Second Lrnze Story 

tStanual IKeltef Society Short Story Contest 

Keep Me Forever 

Margaret Hardy 


ELLY sat in the middle of her 
father's potato field, her 
braids nearly brushing the 
ground as she rested her head on 
her knees. There was no shade 
anywhere, so she sat between the 
rows that she had been hoeing. 
Picking up her apron, she wiped 
the perspiration from her face and 
sat absently examining the dirty 
place it left. The clumsy, hateful 
hoe lay on the ground beside her, 
waiting to be used again. She looked 
at it, then at her father to see if he 
could see her sitting there. He 
could, for he called to her, and she 

Page 82 

stood and picked the hoe up again. 
Her muscles ached from all her 
stooping, and she stretched her 
stocky body out thin. When she 
turned her head from side to side, 
she could see clean, cold snow high 
on the Alps bordering their valley, 
and she wished she had a handful 
to rub in her face. 

As she stood wishing, she heard 
a loud, distressing cry coming from 
the house. She saw her father 
spring up and stand still to listen. 
The sound came again, closer this 
time, and they could see the moth- 
er in the yard, leaning against the 
fence post, by the gate. It was 
Papa's name she was calling, but in 
no ordinary way, and Papa and Elly 
dropped their hoes and ran across 
the field, jumping over potato 
plants as they ran. 

Papa ran faster than Elly, with 
his long legs, and shoes to protect 
his feet from the sharp stones; so 
when Elly reached the gate, Papa 
was helping Mama into the house, 
and Mama was bent over, and was 
hardly walking at all. 

Elly didn't know why she had 
run, and now that she was there, 
she didn't know what to do. So 
she went to the watering trough and 
splashed water in her face until it 
trickled down her braids and made 
her blouse cool and wet. She heard 
Mama cry out again from the house, 



but this time she wasn't calling 
anyone, but making noises that a 
ten-year-old didn't understand. She 
went to the goat pen and let the 
goats chew on the stick she had in 
her hand. Mama cried out again 
and again, and Elly dropped her 
stick and clutched her fists to her 
mouth and cried, too. She wanted 
to run in the house and see what all 
this was, but she didn't dare, for if 
Papa wanted her, he'd call. 

And he did call then, a roaring, 
demanding call, and Elly jumped 
and ran like a deer in the forest. 

"Elly!" he shouted. "To the vil- 
lage! Run! Fetch the doctor for 
Mama. Run, Elly. Hurry!" 

Elly stood frozen to the spot, stiff 
with terror. Something was ter- 
ribly wrong with Mama, and she 
wanted to see, but Papa barred the 

"Elly," he shouted, and took hold 
of her shoulders and spun her 
around and started her down the 
path. "Doctor Hoggenheimer! Get 
him!" he roared after her. 

OAST the bake oven and through 
the ox corral she ran, and down 
the rutted road. She wanted to cry, 
but she had no breath. Her bare 
feet scraped the stones in the road 
and a knife stuck in her side, but 
she thought of Mama, and kept 

A peasant woman drove an ox 
cart piled high with hay, and Elly 
climbed on the back to ride. But 
it bumped and jostled along so 
slowly that she jumped off and ran 
on down the road again. 

In the village, she found the 
street and the house where the doc- 
tor lived. With both her fists she 

pounded on the door until it opened, 
and an angry looking servant 
woman with both hands on her 
hips stood looking down on her. 
Elly shook with fear, and choked on 
the words she tried to say. Tears 
sprang into her eyes, and it was sev- 
eral minutes before she could say 
anything at all. Then she tried to 
tell the woman about Mama, but 
before she was finished telling it, 
the woman had told her the doctor 
was not there, and had closed the 

Elly sat down on the stoop to 
get her breath and cry, and didn't 
know what to do, because there was 
no one there to tell her. The doc- 
tor would come when he came 
home, the servant had said, but 
when would that be? Papa said to 
hurry, she thought, but what good 
is there without the doctor? 

It was coming into evening, and 
Elly left the stoop, and wandered 
through the village, watching the 
shopkeepers lock their doors. Farm- 
ers' carts, loaded with fresh vege- 
tables for sale in the morning 
crowded the street. The bell on 
the textile mill tolled, and women 
and girls poured out of its doors. 
Like sheep they swarmed, and Elly 
pressed herself up against the leath- 
er shop wall to let them pass. A few 
of the girls stopped and gathered 
around two young men, one of 
whom stood preaching. Their talk 
was muddled, and Elly couldn't un- 
derstand what they said, so she 
walked on. 

There was a goose boy in the 
street, piping his goose song, and 
she thought of Peter in the hills 
with his geese, and she decided to 
walk home with him. 



She left the village and walked 
across the field and followed a path 
that ran alongside an old canal. The 
earth felt damp and smooth under 
her bare feet. She stooped and 
picked a bunch of daisies, and then 
there were so many, she walked in 
them, and watched them bend 
down under her feet and spring up 

]V^)T far from the farm was the 
hill where Peter was, and Elly 
climbed to the top of it and sat to 
rest. Below her she could see her 
house, nearly hidden by trees, peace- 
ful and quiet. Seeing it, she remem- 
bered her errand, and ran down 
the goose trail and caught up to 
Peter. He turned at her call and 

"Elly Bohmer! Where did you 
come from?" 

"From an errand to the village, 
silly boy," she panted, and she ran 
around the goose herd, shooing the 
hissing geese back together again. 

"For your mother, no doubt, to 
buy some trifle." Peter swung his 
stick around importantly. 

"It was for my father I went. 
Mama was in great pain, and I ran 
to the village to fetch the doctor. 
He must surely have come, for I 
can't hear her now." 

They were nearly to the gate, and 
suddenly Elly couldn't bear to wait 
longer to see Mama. Up the road 
she raced, leaving Peter with his 
geese behind. Up the path and 
through the door of the cottage she 
burst. Inside, she stopped short. It 
was dark in the house after the 
bright outside, and no one had lit 
a candle. As her eyes grew used to 
the darkness, Elly saw Papa 

sprawled at the table with his head 
in his hands. Mama wasn't bustling 
about cooking the supper, so she 
must be outside in the yard. She 
turned to go back out the door, 
when she saw a hump under the 
quilt on Mama's bed. It looked 
like Mama, but Elly couldn't be 
sure, because the quilt was pulled 
up over her head. She went to 
pull it down to look, but Papa 
looked up. 

"No, little one, don't touch it. 
Your Mother is gone." 

Gone? But Mama must be here. 
Where could she be gone to? Elly 
asked herself. She turned question- 
ing eyes to her father, but his head 
lay on the table again. Bewildered, 
her eyes rested on the old cradle, 
waiting there for the new baby that 
was. soon to come. It stood near 
Mama's bed, and Elly had only to 
look from where she stood to see 
inside it. With a cry she reached 
her hands into the cradle, but her 
father's voice stopped her again. 

"No, Elly, little one. The baby, 
it is gone, too." 

Elly didn't understand. The baby 
was there, but it didn't move, so it 
was gone, and Mama, there under 
the quilt— and she turned and fled 
from the house to find Peter. 

Peter was fourteen, and knew 
everything. He would know about 
this, too. She caught up to him, 
running through the goose herd, 
scattering them every way. Catching 
his arm, she pulled him to the side 
of the road and down on the grass 
of the ditch bank. Peter thought 
Elly played a game, and started to 
twirl her braids around, overjoyed 
at the attention. 

But Elly was sobbing and talking, 



and through it all, Peter heard of 
her grief, and understood, and 
thinking himself to be a man, he 
cried out, "I'll take care of you, 
Elly. You'll be mine from now on, 
and always. One day a piece of my 
father's farm will be mine, and then 
I'll marry you." 

So Elly stopped her weeping, and 
clung to Peter, and loved him as 

well as a ten-year-old could. 

* * * * 

P*LLY stayed on at the farm with 
her father and kept house, and 
learned to do all the things Mama 
had done. Sometimes she felt like 
a woman, and tried very hard to 
please Papa, and make him happy. 
But there were times when her child 
heart took over, and she romped in 
the grass, and played with the goats 
as she had done before. And there 
were excursions into the hills when 
she took a long stick in her hand 
and waved it over the geese while 
Peter piped his goose song. But 
these days were not as they had 
been, for she was getting older, and 
didn't feel the same with Peter 

When she was thirteen, she took 
work in the textile mills, as did the 
other girls her age. Each morning 
she walked down to the village by 
the road that she had run over so 
frantically those years before. And 
each morning as she walked, she 
thought of Peter, who would be 
waiting for her at the door. And 
of Gabrielle, who stood next to her 
at the loom, who thought Peter to 
be so very handsome, and told 
Elly about it every day. Elly had 
never looked at Peter to think him 
handsome, or anything but just 
Peter, but Gabrielle made her see 

him through new eyes, and so she 
thought of him often. 

Some days when they left the fac- 
tory together, they saw two young 
men standing in the square, one 
always preaching. Peter liked to 
listen to them, for he was a scholar, 
and understood much of what they 
said. Gabrielle often stood with 
them, and sometimes she slipped 
her arm through Peter's in the way 
that city girls did, holding him close 
to her. She pretended to under- 
stand all that the two young men 
said. Then as they walked through 
the village, Gabrielle would jostle 
Peter, and tease him, tossing her 
head so that her hair danced on her 

Elly had let her braids down 
when she went to work at the mill, 
and to her dismay, her hair hung 
straight and feathery, like corn silk 
tassels. It hung down her back, 
nearly to her waist, and she held it 
back from her face with a ribbon. 
She felt plain beside Gabrielle as 
she danced and laughed beside 
them, so she looked down at her 
feet as she walked, and hardly spoke 
at all until Gabrielle turned off on 
her own road. 

One day as they stood side by 
side at their loom, Gabrielle and 
Elly, Gabrielle put her hand into 
her pocket and took out a piece of 
paper and handed it to Elly. 

"I have something for you, Elly," 
she whispered. "It's from Peter. 
He told me to give it to you." 

"Something for me, from Peter?" 
and Elly took it and thrust it into 
her apron pocket, until such a time 
as she could read it. 

At noontime she ran to find a 
corner where she could be alone. 



Her hand held the note tightly in 
her pocket, and she trembled inside 
with excitement. Sitting on the 
floor with her back against the wall, 
she opened the folded paper and 

To Elly, 

You are my friend, and I will think 
of you always. But my heart belongs to 


Elly sat dumfounded. She read 
it again, and then again, but each 
time it was the same, and she 
rumpled it tightly in her fist. Then, 
knowing she was too old, she sat 
and cried as she had cried on the 
doctor's stoop when the door had 
been closed to her, for a door had 
been closed to her again. She went 
back to her loom, but she couldn't 
look at Gabrielle standing by her, 
for surely Peter's heart must belong 
to her. 

YK7HEN the evening bell tolled, 
Elly slipped out the door, and 
there stood Peter in his usual place. 
He stepped toward her to greet her, 
and Elly, amazed, stopped still and 
looked full at him. Then she picked 
her skirts up in her hands and fled 
through the village street. The 
astonished Peter dropped his mouth 
open, and stood staring, glued to 
the spot, and when he ran, she was 
already far ahead. 

"Elly!" he shouted. "Elly! Wait 
for me. Where are you going, El- 
ly?" But Elly didn't turn her head, 
or stop her running. 

Peter stopped near the preaching 
men, wondering what to do, and 
as he turned, Gabrielle was at his 

"Gabrielle! What is it with El- 
ly? I waited at the door as always, 
but when she came, she ran from 
me. Has she spoken to you?" 

Gabrielle didn't answer, but she 
slid her arm through Peter's as was 
her way, and led him along, talking 
to him of the carnival that was to 

When Elly saw Peter after that, 
she hurried the other way, and soon 
Peter did the same. Sometimes she 
saw him strolling with Gabrielle 
dancing along beside him, holding 
on to his arm. But mostly she saw 
him as she left the factory, listening 
to the missionaries. She wondered 
what they had to tell, but she didn't 
stop now, because of Peter. 

Gabrielle had never once spoken 
of Peter to Elly since the day of the 
note. But one day Gabrielle was 
disturbed, and she couldn't hide it. 
Elly didn't ask, but when the girls 
ate their noon lunch, Gabrielle 
talked to Elly, and Elly listened. 
She looked very dark. 

"Peter goes to America soon," she 
pouted. "He goes alone." 

Elly ate on in her usual way, but 
she trembled inside. Peter to 
America! It was unbelievable. And 
Gabrielle hadn't won his heart. 
This made her smile a little. But 
Gabrielle had more to say. 

"It's those preaching men," she 
said bitterly. "They told him to 
go, and he does everything they 

Elly stopped eating and drew her- 
self up straight in front of Gabrielle. 

"Peter believes in them," she 
said. "It's their gospel that he 
loves. And if he says it's so, it's so." 
And she looked defiantly at Gab- 
rielle. But defending him brought 



tears, for she had lost him surely, 

for he was going away. 
# # ♦ # 

WAS it two years? Three? Elly 
could never remember how 
long it had been that Peter was 
away. The road from the village to 
the farm had grown much, much 
longer, and each week was a month. 
There were new missionaries preach- 
ing in the square, and Elly stopped 
often to listen. Gabrielle had left 
the loom next to Elly's, for she had 
soon found a new love, and she had 
told Elly every day how handsome 
he was, until she had married him 
and gone away. The note had long 
since been forgotten by Gabrielle, 
but not by Elly. The words of it 
were engraved on her heart, and 
she could never forget it, for her 
heart had told her how it was. 

One day when Elly was eighteen 
years old, she stood listening to the 
missionaries from America. The 
young man who was talking fin- 
ished, and stepped down from the 
box he was standing on, and an- 
other took his place. He stood and 
looked all around him, at the leather 
shop, and the mill, and the farmers 
with their carts, and at the people 
with their faces turned up to him, 
waiting. And he couldn't talk. 

Then, instead of this clean-shav- 
en young man in a dark suit, so 
full of emotion, with his hands in 
his pockets, Elly saw a boy in short 
leather trousers and a peaked little 
hat with a feather stuck in it. In 
one hand he carried a goose stick, 
and in the other a flute. And Elly 
dreamily reached her hand up to 
where her braids had been. But 
the gray eyes of the young man 
were the same in his sun-tanned 
face, and the teeth, when he smiled 
were Peter's. Elly wanted to snatch 
his hand and run with him through 
the daisy field and up to the goose 
pasture, but that would have to 
wait until a later day, for Peter was 
a missionary. 

A happy shiver ran through her 
body as she stood watching him, 
and she listened to his message, for 
he was talking now. He finished, 
and the people started to drift away, 
but Elly stood still and waited. 
When he came, she caught his arm 
and pulled him away from the peo- 
ple and stood with him by the 
leather shop wall. And she wept, 
and Peter comforted her as he had 
done when she was a child. For 
yesterday was their childhood, with 
all that it held, but tomorrow would 
be soon — and forever. 

Margaret Hardy, Salt Lake City, Utah, appears for the first time as an 
award winner in the Relief Society Short Story Contest, with her entry "Keep 
Me Forever." 

"I am overjoyed by the news of my story being awarded second prize," 
Mrs. Hardy writes, "as it will be my first published story, my other publica- 
tion, an article called "A Good Day," having appeared in The Relief Society 
Magazine. I am not affiliated with any writing groups. I have studied voice 
and writing at the University of Utah and have done singing locally. I am 
the Primary chorister; I sing with the Singing Mothers, teach a Sunday School 
class, and am a visiting teacher in the Relief Society of the Forest Dale Ward. 
I have worked in most of the auxiliaries of the Church. Mine is a family of 
three children, an assortment of pets, my husband, and myself. I enjoy skiing, 
tennis, and painting, and I work at learning to play the piano, with no success 
as yet." 

cJhe fyCustraltari II it 


Preston Nibhy 

TN the summer of 1840, ten years after the Church was organized, a young 
convert in Hanley, Staffordshire, England, named William Barrett, 
seventeen years of age, who was about to make a voyage to Australia, was 
ordained an elder by George A. Smith, of the Council of Twelve, and 
appointed to labor as a missionary in that country. He arrived in Australia 
and delivered his message, but it is not known that he made any converts. 

Two years later, Andrew Anderson, one of the first converts baptized 
in Scotland, by Elder Orson Pratt, in 1840, moved to Australia with his 
family and located at Sydney, New South Wales. In 1845 he reported to 
the Church Authorities in Nauvoo that he had baptized eleven people and 
organized a branch of the Church. 

The real beginning toward the establishment of a mission in Australia 
was made in 1851, when Elder John Murdock of Salt Lake City, Utah, was 
appointed by the First Presidency to open a mission in that land. He was 

Photograph submitted by Leah Liljenquist 



Page 88 



Photograph submitted by Leah Liljenquist 


accompanied on his journey by Elder Charles W. Wandell, and the two 
brethren arrived in Sydney on October 30th. Through their diligence 
they soon established a thriving branch of the Church, and the work of 
proselyting has not ceased since that time. 

New Zealand became a part of the Australian Mission in 1854, and 
the two countries were known as the Australasian Mission. From 1880 to 
1897 the headquarters of the mission was at Aukland, but in October 1897, 
two separate missions were formed. 

In 1930 the membership of the Australian Mission was 1,313; in 1954 
the membership had increased to 3,053. 

President David O. McKay made an extensive tour of the Australian 
Mission in January 1955. During July 1955, the Australian Mission was 
divided into the Australian and South Australian Missions. This was done 
by Elder Marion G. Romney of the Council of the Twelve, who had 
journeyed to Australia for that purpose, acting under the direction of the 
First Presidency. Before the division of the mission, there were twenty- 
five Relief Society organizations. Elder Zelph Young Erekson is president 
of the Australian Mission, and Sister Ada Irene Soane Erekson presides 
over the mission Relief Society. 


There Is Still Time 

Chapter i 
Margery S. Stewart 

T was the dream that awakened Elizabeth had seen its possibilities 

her. Elizabeth opened her eyes at once and the result was almost as 

quickly. She felt suffocated charming as its occupant, 

from the quick beating of her heart. Donna opened her eyes when 

She sighed with relief at sight of Elizabeth bent above her bed. She 

familiar pale green draperies, white smiled sleepily in welcome, her dark 

bars of Venetian blinds through eyes luminous, her dimples show- 

which night flowed darkly. ing. "Can I really go to school 

She was trembling. It was only when it's September?" 

a dream, she told herself, but the "Really, my darling." 

fear persisted — the building-on- 'Til be awful big then, won't I?" 

quicksand feeling that was with her "So— o big." 

so much of the time. Brent, beside Donna smiled and turned over 

her, turned over, mumbled in his on her side, her dark curls slipping 

sleep. across her cheek. Elizabeth pulled 

Elizabeth crept out of bed, put the sheet higher over the small, out- 
on robe and slippers. She slipped flung arm. Love made a soft sing- 
down the hall to the twins' room, ing inside her. 
They were fiercely asleep, Johnny I should go back to bed, she 
with the red Indian paint still show- thought, the dream was just one of 
ing on his forehead, Jennie with her those frightening ones. She stamped 
new set of Gene Autry guns on the her feet lightly. You see, she scold- 
blanket over her stomach. ed herself, your feet are strong and 

Elizabeth went quietly to her old- well, nothing wrong with them, nor 
est daughter's room. The door was with your legs, nor you, for that 
firmly closed. She lifted her hand matter. But still the soft winds of 
to knock, but thought better of it. apprehension brushed along her 
Elaine was impassioned these days neck. She felt her way down the 
about her right of privacy, "... af- stairs, crossed the enormous living 
ter all when one is sixteen!" She room and the almost as large din- 
spoke it in caps all the time, as ing room into the kitchen. Here 
though the year sixteen was a gate- she felt free to turn on the lights, 
way into a land no one else had bang the refrigerator door, rattle 
ever entered and out of which she pots and pans. She felt a slight 
would never emerge. P an g i n the small tasks. Once she 

But there was one room which had been queen of the kitchen, but 
held no fears, and, as yet, no an- now Matilda, large and dark and 
noyances — Donna's room. It had bustling, had full command. The 
originally been intended for a dress- twins were slavish in their adorn- 
ing room and was rather small, but tion. It was, "Let's ask Tildy to 

Page 90 



make us some lemon cookies . . . . 
Maybe Tildy will make us some taf- 
fy this afternoon." 

Elizabeth lit the fire under the 

"IV/f AKE some for me, too." 

She whirled, then relaxed at 
sight of Brent, short, stocky, his 
thick light curly hair rumpled, the 
overhead light twinkling on his 
glasses. He draped himself on the 

"Wake the whole house when 
you go tiptoeing around." 

"I do not." 

"Certainly do. Johnny had a 
coughing spasm right after you 
left .... Jennie started yelling 
something about the Khyber Pass, 
and Elaine came out to demand, 
and haughtily, that the family leave 
her in peace." 

Elizabeth laughed. "But I didn't 
even go near Elaine. I only stood 
outside her door." 

"She said she could hear you 
breathing in the hall." 

"She didn't!" 

"You know she did. You know 
very well that even the way we eat 
soup these days is more than she 
can bear." 

Elizabeth tightened the cord of 
her robe. "Too true." She bright- 
ened, "But Donna was glad to see 

Brent smiled wryly, "So glad that 
she is now in our bed ... in the 
exact center . . . and we are home- 
less for the night." 

"Fm sorry," Elizabeth said. She 
got down another cup and saucer. 

"No thanks, I think I'll have 
some of Matilda's banana bread. 
Any left?" 

"No. Johnny." 

"Confound it! I told him to 
leave at least a crust." 

"He forgot. I'll tell her to make 
some more tomorrow." 

"But I wanted it tonight." His 
good humor was melting away. The 
sharp impatience that possessed him 
so much of the time, lately, edging 

She said quickly, "There's cake. 
Here, let me get it for you." 

He scowled. "Kids never give 
you a thought, just themselves . . . 
all the time . . . selfish . . . thought- 
less. Look at all I give them. New 
bikes for the twins just yesterday. 
They hardly said thanks." 

"Brent! they were thrilled to 
death. It's just that they're used to 
getting things." 

"Bert Neibar's boys really stand 
around for him . . . follow him 
around like a couple of puppies." 

She bit her tongue. She would 
not say again, "But Bert Neibar 
gives the boys more than things . . . 
he gives them himself . . . games, 
hiking, Church on Sundays . . . the 
three of them." She took a deep 
breath. "What about the lot of us 
going on a picnic, come Saturday, 
down to the beach?" 


"Take the boat out?" 

"Rather not." 

"Go down to San Diego to the 

"I've got enough monkeys in my 
own house." His smile vanished. 
"I think they're planning a new 
tract over in the valley. I'm going 
to go look at it. I want to make a 
good bid. If I get to build those 
houses you and the kids can wear 
ermine this winter." 



She put the cup of milk before 
him. "I don't want to wear er- 

"Mink, then/' 

"Nor mink/' 

"A'right a'ready! Four o'clock in 
the morning, and you decide to be 
unreasonable. What's the matter 
with you lately ... no gratitude? 
Nothing in this house but argu- 
ments and fights . . . the kids fight 
... we fight . . . everybody growls 
all the time." 

She spoke quickly, before her 
courage could ooze away, "When 
are we going to start rearing them 
together? They need you, Brent. 
When are we going to start doing 
for them all the things we've meant 
to do, Church, family days . . .?" 

"Now, Eliza, you know you've 
been just as busy as I have, trying 
to get us where we are today. Be- 
sides, I just can't start any projects 
now. I've got enough on my 
hands." He drank his milk swiftly, 
tension beginning to show in the 
working muscles of his jaw. "All I 
ever get around here is criticism." 

CHE said swiftly, throwing him 
the new thought as a caged man 
might throw a bone to a pacing 
lion. "I had the strangest dream. 
That's what woke me up . . . the 
strangest dream." 

He looked at her with lackluster 
eyes. "Everybody gets weird 

She sat on the other stool. "This 
will make you laugh. I dreamed we 
were having a party . . . oh, a really 
gala affair, like the one the Jafferey's 
had last week." 

"That was something!" He 
stopped the cup at his lips. "But- 

lers all over the place. I'll bet that 
cost old man Jafferey . . . ." 

"It was like that, only more beau- 
tiful. The grounds were so green 
and velvety and there were pieces 
of statuary here and there. I was 
waiting to receive my guests . . . 
and Brent . . . ." She put her cup 
down. "I looked down at myself 
and I was leaning on a pair of 


"Yes, but they weren't ordinary. 
They were gold and silver crutch- 
es .. . really beautiful." 

He reached for more cake. "It 
was the junk Lois served us tonight. 
Honestly, how that woman gets by 
serving the stuff she does . . . ." 

"Lois' buffet was delicious, Brent. 
Anyway, I hardly touched it. But 
Brent, listen, this is the strangest 
part of my dream. When the guests 
came, they walked on crutches, too, 
all of them." 

"What a dream!" 

"Karen Jones, you know how 
beautiful she is?" 

Brent nodded appreciatively. 

"She was wearing crutches, too. 
Hers were ivory with amethysts and 
rubies . . . and Mr. Jafferey. Oh, 
you should have seen his!" 

Brent laughed. "His were pure 
uranium, I'll bet." 

"Some kind of silver metal." 

Brent stood up and stretched. 
"Nice dream. If it were only true, 
we could have our guests park their 
crutches and forget to take them." 

"No." Elizabeth moved toward 
him, put her arms around him. 
"It wasn't like that at all. I was 
leaning on my crutches and, sud- 
denly, they crumbled and fell. I 
couldn't stand by myself ... I had 



been leaning such a long time 

To her dismay, tears blurred her 


Brent shouted with laughter. 
"Page Freud, darling. You Ve prob- 
ably been harboring some sup- 
pressed fixation and it popped out 
in a dream." 

She wanted to pull understanding 
from him. "Brent, it was so awful, 
the feeling when the crutches 
crumbled. I was so helpless. I felt 
it was my fault." 

Brent shook her lightly. "Darling 
child, you just keep right on lean- 
ing on our bank roll. It'll never let 
you down. Fm going to get the 
bid for that new tract, and you can 
fly to Europe and buy diamonds 
that'll put the eyes out of Karen 

"But I don't want diamonds." 

His face darkened with anger. He 
dropped his hands. "You never 
want anything. If it weren't for me 
you'd still be sitting in Beaver, 
Utah, waiting for Saturday night 
and the big dance at the ward 

"Those were fun days, and I wish 
they were back again. Oh, Brent, it 
isn't that I don't appreciate every- 
thing you've given me and the chil- 
dren. But our life isn't right. 
There's something missing . . . 
something lacking." 

"What's lacking?" He was in- 
stantly defensive. "What could you 
possibly want that you don't have?" 

"It's something I can't go down 
to Bullock's and buy," she stormed, 
furious with herself for quarreling, 
angry with him for his unwilling- 
ness to understand and be patient. 

He turned to the door. "When 

you find out what it is, let me know 
and I'll get it at a discount." 

'TTIE swinging door rocked sharply 
with his going. Elizabeth put 
down the now cold cup of milk. 
What a fool I am to quarrel with 
Brent. I'm unreasonable. I do 
have everything, she told herself. 

She drew her housecoat closer 
about her and went out on the pa- 
tio. It was beginning to be morn- 
ing. In the hibiscus bush a mock- 
ing bird chirped sleepily. The swim- 
ming pool looked cold and dark. 
Elaine had forgotten to close the 
garage doors, and the small sports 
car she loved glinted bright red. 
Elizabeth looked about. The neigh- 
borhood was like a park, trim and 
green and fresh, beautifully cared 
for by the patient Japanese garden- 

The dream came vividly back to 
her mind. She went into the house 
and dressed swiftly in a sweater and 
skirt and flat blue shoes. She came 
down again with Elaine's keys in 
her hands. She eased the little red 
car out of the driveway and turned 
it in the direction of the sea. How 
still the city was in the morning, 
and how beautiful here along Sun- 
set Boulevard with its curves and 
green hills and the fog not closing 
down grayly but wisping beside her 
like a gull's wings. 

There was one lone fisherman 
on the beach. She walked away 
from him toward the rocks which 
jutted out a little way into the sea. 
She climbed over the rocks and 
found a little hollow where the 
spray could not reach her. The 
morning wind was heavy with damp- 
ness. It blew against her. The 



waves came in heavily, driven by the 
wind and crashed upon the rocks. 

The sea has not changed since 
the beginning, Elizabeth thought. 
It is the same as it has always been. 
The sand is the same consistency, 
and the earth and the sky and stars 
. . . but we have changed. We have 
gotten so far away from our begin- 
nings that we cannot remember 
what it was that we were meant to 
be. I did not mean to be the way I 
am, an idle, discontented woman, 
with idle, discontented children. 
How I have twisted and distorted 
the girl who was myself. 

She sighed and dipped sand out 
of the rock. What am I supposed 
to be? To do? Why was I placed 
here on this island winging between 
all the other islands in the sky? I 
do not give my children bread any 
more. I do not give them anything. 

The fisherman edged toward her, 
a large fish dangling from his hand. 
He gestured toward her with the 
fish, calling to her, his hand curled 
around his mouth. He was an old 

"Do you want it?" he shouted. 

She nodded. The man came to- 
ward her. "I got plenty for my- 
self." He looked at her narrowly. 
"It ain't safe for you to be here 
. . . alone like this." 

"But it's such a beautiful place," 
she protested. 

He shook his head. "A beautiful 
place is where no ugly thing is, 
used to be like that, years ago. No- 
body who lived around here then 
would hurt you. But they've 
changed, got black inside . . . black- 
ness coming out in cruel dark 
things they do." 

"What changed them?" 

The old man chuckled, showing 
sparse and yellowing teeth. "We 
used to have a sayin' 'so an' so is 
an honest man,' we used to say . . . 
ever hear it?" 

She nodded. "My grandfather, 
about his neighbors." 

He put the fish in her hands. 
"That's what's wrong with us, lady. 
Not enough of us able to say them 
simple little words about each oth- 

She took the fish gingerly and 
turned in the direction of the car. 
The old man was right, of course, 
it had been foolish to come to this 
lonely place. But she felt frustrated 
and angry, remembering the hills 
and canyons of her childhood where 
she had wandered free and safe as 
a bird. 

CHE settled herself in the car and 
went down the ocean highway to 
Santa Monica Boulevard. More peo- 
ple were abroad now. She came to 
Overland Avenue, stopped for a 
traffic light. She looked to her left 
and caught her breath at the sheer 
beauty of tall white walls under con- 
struction. This must be the new 
temple. She had been meaning to 
come down to see the grounds ever 
since the papers carried the news. 
She turned left on the next street 
and made her way into the grounds. 
The builders seemed to be doing 
everything at once. The openings 
which would be doors were board- 
ed over. They were already putting 
in the lawns and trees. Inside and 
outside bore evidence of feverish ac- 
tivity. Palms as high as the beau- 
tiful lower walls were held in place 
by wires. Spruce, too, had been 
brought in fully grown, and these 



also were secured in their places by 
wires. The earth around them was 
damp and dark. Pools and foun- 
tains of soft green tile were almost 
finished. North of the temple stood 
the Harold Lloyd home, battered 
and beaten now from the struggle 
to tear it down. Elizabeth remem- 
bered herself as a child reading 
about the Lloyd estate, trying to 
imagine its beauty from the printed 

She left the car and wandered 
about, picking her way over boards, 
broken pieces of concrete, bricks, 
and all the other paraphernalia of 
building. Morning was fully come 
in a burst of sunlight breaking 
through the fog, dispersing it. The 
tall tower of the temple gleamed in 
the sun. There were a few men 
about beginning the day's work. 

Elizabeth touched the polished 
surface of the walls, reverence in her 
fingers. There was something in- 
finitely moving and beautiful about 
this unfinished building, she 
thought, reminder of a holiness im- 
plicit and absolute. She peered 
through the doors, trying to see the 
finished result from the rough be- 

ginning now apparent. Names made 
pictures in her mind, Kirtland, St. 
George, Mesa .... I wish, she 
thought with a pang, that we had 
given even a brick to the building 
of this house of the Lord. 

Such a long time since she had 
even been to a meeting, not going 
because she had not been able to 
endure the loneliness of going alone. 
The years stretched behind her to 
Beaver and the little meetinghouse 
there, to herself in bobby socks and 
saddle shoes being chosen queen for 
the green and gold ball. There had 
never been a moment since quite 
like that. The time Grandfather 
went on his mission. How the 
people had turned out. Now that 
had been a night of joy and tears 
and such oneness among neighbors 
and friends, that she, only a girl at 
the time, had trembled with glad- 
ness, drinking it up like a heavenly 

What had happened? But she 
knew. She had always known, shut- 
ting the knowledge away in a dark 
room of her mind, turning the key 
in the lock. 

(To be continued) 



Christie Lund Coles 

A white goose is moving 
Across the gauze-veiled sky, 
Moving as the wind moves, 
Rhythmical and high; 

Beauty caught in transit, 
Note the white, white wing, 
Quiet as a shadow, 
Covering everything. 

Sixty [J ears J/igo 

Excerpts From the Woman's Exponent, February 1, and February 15, 1896 

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

RELIEF SOCIETY IN MARICOPA STAKE: President Alice Richens, Mesa 
Ward, Louisa Harper, Lehi Ward, Ann Kleinman, Alma Ward, Esther Openshaw, 
Nephi Ward, and Sister Sarah Tiffany of Papago Ward, gave encouraging reports .... 
All seemed to be doing as well as usual, although there seemed to be a faithful few who 
had to do the principal part of the work of the respective society, but upon the whole 
there was general good feeling .... President Collin R. Hakes was altogether proud of 
the Saints of Maricopa Stake. Spoke a short time on the duties of those who had ac- 
cepted positions of responsibility in the Church, and the order of the Gospel. 

— F. E. Robson, Sec. 

A LEADER OF WOMEN: Mrs. Carrie Chapman-Catt has cleared $140 for 
the National Organization Committee by her Woman Suffrage Calendars, which have 
found a ready sale. We congratulate her. 

— Selected 

AN INTEREST IN GOVERNMENT: Lady Aberdeen is a constant attendant 
on the sessions of Parliament in Ottawa. She occupies a place beside the Speaker in 
the House of Commons. 

— Selected 


Then heart be thou still, cry out no more! 

Thy jewels are shining there, 

In gladness they tread the golden streets, 

And offer for thee a prayer. 

Now hark! Through the gathering gloom 

Hear the angel voices tell, 

"Daughter arise, thy cross take up, 

With thy loved ones all is well." 

— Lydia D. Alder 

WOMAN OF DESTINY: Queen Christina of Spain has been asked as arbitrator 
to settle a long standing dispute over the boundary lines of Columbia, Equador and 
Peru. This is the first time in the history of the world that a woman has been chosen 
to settle an international dispute. Her administration of Spanish affairs has been 
characterized by tact and statesmanlike ability, controlled by high moral principle; and 
not the least of her claims to admiration is the fact that she has maintained peace in a 
country proverbial for being in a state of constant unrest and turmoil. 

— Woman's Voice 

THE THIRD STAR: The early Mormon women were very largely of New Eng- 
land birth, and they have gloried in having emulated the exile and privations of the 
Pilgrims for the same cause, namely freedom to worship according to their conscience. 

— Woman's Tribune 

Page 96 

Woman's Sphere 

Ramona W. Cannon 

M 1 

Piute Indian, born in Cali- 
fornia, is one hundred and six years 
old and still works in moving pic- 
tures in holes representing an old 
Indian woman. Her health is 
good; she does close eye-work; and 
she has recently woven a rug which 
she uses in her pictures. 

INURING the last twenty-five 
years in the United States, 7,500 
volumes on child care have been 
published. Benjamin Spock's Com- 
mon Sense Book oi Baby and Child 
Care has sold 70,000 hard-cover edi- 
tions and 3,247,588 paperbacks 
since it was published in 1946. 

M ARI SANDOZ, whose first book 
Old Jules, a pioneer story of 
Nebraska, won favorable acclaim, 
has written a new novel Miss Mo- 
rissa — Doctor oi the Gold Trail, 
the dramatic narrative of a young 
woman doctor who lived in a "sod- 
dy" on the Nebraska plains and de- 
votedly followed her profession de- 
spite the frontier animosity toward 
"lady docs." 


fifty-seven, of New Orleans 
Charity Hospital, became the first 
woman in the United States to head 
a major professional medical society 
when she was installed as president 
of the American Society of Clinical 
Pathologists in Chicago, recently. 

TN 1954 m tne United States, 
4,073,000 babies were born, an 
all-time high figure. 

|7LMA Milotte and her husband 
Alfred spent almost three years 
with their technicolor cameras tak- 
ing shots — some very close indeed 
— of the animals we may now see 
in Walt Disney's "The African 
Lion." This is an astonishingly inti- 
mate picture of wild creatures in 
their native haunts, namely Kenya, 
Uganda, Tanganyika, and other 
African lands. 

OIRTHDAY congratulations are 
extended to: Mrs. Celestia M. 
Terry Peterson, Fairview, Utah, 
ninety-five; Mrs. Emma Matins, 
Salt Lake City, Utah, ninety-two; 
Mrs. Florence Tritt Jones, Oak City, 
Utah, Mrs. Annie B. Jarvis, South 
Jordan, Utah, and Mrs. Mary B. 
Egan, Salt Lake City, each ninety- 
one; Mrs. Emma Eliason, Brigham 
City, Utah, ninety. 

Page 97 


VOL. 43 


NO. 2 


nniversary \JLJay 



HPHE Spirit of God Like a Fire 
Is Burning/' the opening song 
of that memorable meeting held 
March 17, 1842, in Joseph Smith's 
store in Nauvoo, Illinois, gave voice 
to the spirit that burned within the 
hearts of eighteen women who gath- 
ered together by appointment, that 
a Prophet of God might organize 
them into a society for service and 

With the passing years the hearts 
of thousands of women have be- 
come fired with the spirit of Relief 
Society. Its benevolent administra- 
tions have been a blessing; its count- 
less opportunities for self-expression 
have brought joy and development 
to Latter-day Saint women; its 
achievements have been glorious. 

In commemoration of March 17, 
the gratitude of Relief Society mem- 
bers will be expressed in Anniver- 
sary Day observances. Thousands of 
women in many countries through- 
out the world will "honor those who 
fashioned for good the ideals we 
cherish." The entire Relief Society 
sisterhood will pause to take 
thought of the divinity within our 
organization, of the inspiration that 
guides its destinies; they will pray 
that it may know an even more 
glorious future. 

Therefore it seems fitting that 
Anniversary Day programs interpret 
the spirit of the organization. 
Though not necessarily somber and 
formal, a certain dignity and ap- 

Page 98 

propriateness should characterize 

An understanding of the purposes 
of the organization, an appreciation 
of its history and accomplishments, 
an insight into the lives of those 
who have contributed to its onward 
march are evidenced in many inter- 
esting programs of the past. 

An entertaining and appropriate 
program centering around Eliza 
Roxey Snow, the first general presi- 
dent of the Society in the valleys 
of the Rocky Mountains, was given 
in one of the wards. Sister Snow 
was presented in a brief biograph- 
ical sketch as patriot, poetess, and 
religious leader. This was followed 
by the rendition of "0 My Father," 
that inspired gem for which she will 
always be loved and remembered. 
Other familiar songs, the words of 
which were her compositions, were 
rendered as vocal and instrumental 
numbers. Two of her poems were 
read, "I Love My Flag" and "My 
Heart Is Fix'd." Concluding the 
program, a brief explanation of the 
Eliza Roxey Snow Memorial Poem 
Contest was given, and the prize- 
winning poem for the year was read 
by its composer. 

Each of our general presidents 
has been unusually endowed, her 
contribution unique, and any one 
of the presidents might be similarly 
featured on Anniversary Day pro- 

Ward Relief Society histories 



lend themselves to profitable enter- 
tainment. A recent Anniversary 
program dramatized the most out- 
standing contribution of each ad- 
ministration to the growth of the 
ward Relief Society organization. A 
reader introduced each scene by 
reading explanatory excerpts direct- 
ly from the history, and concluded 
the scene by introducing the sister 
who was president of that particular 
administration. This ward was for- 
tunate in having each past president 
present. A bouquet of flowers was 
presented to each, and a brief re- 
sponse given. The Singing Mothers 
rendered musical numbers after 
each scene. 

Delightful entertainments have 
been given featuring various phases 
of the Relief Society program— wel- 
fare, education, homemaking, and 
music. A large replica of the Maga- 
zine was utilized by one ward in its 
Anniversary Day program. The 
Magazine was opened like a door, 
by a woman beautifully gowned in 
white, representing Relief Society. 
From the pages of the Magazine the 
sisters stepped forth and formed ef- 
fective still pictures of each phase 
of the work; each picture was in- 
troduced by a reader. Special 
musical numbers were rendered. 
This program closed with women 
ranging in age from very young to 
those of advanced years, represent- 
ing Relief Society membership. The 
last scene was most effective, sum- 
ming up the meaning of Relief So- 
ciety in the lives of its members. 

Wholesome social contacts have 
always been encouraged. How many 
appropriate Relief Society birthday 
parties have been given, with at- 
tractive tables, centered with a 

birthday cake, and delicious lunch- 
eons served! Anniversary Day is an 
ideal time for providing dignified 
and delightful social entertainment. 

Anniversary programs should uti- 
lize Relief Society members as far 
as possible. If the entertainment 
is given at night the use of children 
should be avoided. Relief Society 
is an organization of mothers work- 
ing for the best interests of chil- 
dren. Little children should not 
be deprived of sleep in order to en- 
tertain mothers. If games are used 
in our entertainments they should 
be games which challenge the inter- 
est of mature women. 

Should those eighteen charter 
members of Relief Society step 
from the pages of history on March 
17, 1956, would they be proud and 
happy to join with your ward in its 
Anniversary observance? Would 
they feel again the spirit felt that 
March 17, 1842? Would they see 
their ideals a living issue, magnified, 
bringing joy to every Latter-day 
Saint woman? Anniversary Day 
programs should be more than ordi- 
nary programs with the usual run 
of music and verse. They should 
stir us afresh with an appreciation 
of our organization. They should 
bring together the women of the 
Church in a spirit of love and fel- 
lowship. Anniversary Day should 
be a day when every woman has a 
good time, when she returns to her 
home grateful for the greatness of 
the organization and her member- 
ship in it, singing in her heart: 

For glorious achievement throughout the 
passing years, 

For wond'rous devotion that ever endears, 

We honor and love those who fashioned 
for good 

The ideals we cherish, ennobling woman- 
hood. — B. S. S. 

<Sln 1 1 lemortam - - 1 1 tar a i^rant {faciei 

Tyt ary Grant Judd who was appointed to the general board of Relief 
Society in January 1940, passed away on Saturday, December 17, 1955. 
Sister Judd was a devoted Latter-day Saint and a faithful Relief Society 
worker. She was ever alert to shades of meaning in the written word and 
fearless in defending a position which she felt was right. She was original 
and creative, with a keen sense of humor which did not desert her. Through- 
out her illness she maintained a cheerful and hopeful outlook. 

During the sixteen years that Sister Judd has labored on the general 
board, she has been associated with many committees and she worked 
zealously as a committee member in connection with the Centennial 
observance which was to be celebrated in 1942, but which was not held 
because of war restrictions. Her careful performance on the theology com- 
mittee, of which she was a member at her death, was also outstanding. Her 
wide travels gave to her an appreciation of the beautiful which, with her 
literary talents, enriched her life. 

The general board and Sister Judd's friends throughout the stakes and 
missions of the Church extend their sympathy to her family and to her six 
devoted children to whom she has passed on an illustrious heritage. 

\Btrthdau C^ongratulattons to QJormer ir resident 
KjLmu 'Jjrowa JLuman 

Congratulations and best wishes are extended to our beloved former 
president Amy Brown Lyman for her birthday, February 7th. In the 
stakes and missions of the Church, Relief Society women are grateful for 
her many years of service to the organization. She became a member of 
the general board in 1909, was appointed general secretary-treasurer in 1913, 
first counselor to President Louise Y. Robison in 1928, and general presi- 
dent in 1940, serving as a wise and gifted leader until her release in 1945. 
Sister Lyman still serves Relief Society as literature leader in her ward. 
Her guiding hand and her spirit of service, as well as her example of dili- 
gence and devotion, have become an integral part of the Relief Society 
organization. It has been said — ''beautiful are the hands of the build- 
ers" — and we would add: beautiful and lasting are the accomplishments 
of Sister Amy Brown Lyman. 

Page 100 



I totes QJrom the QJield Should be Submitted [Promptly 

\X7E call attention to the instruction given at the annual Relief Society 
conference and sent to stake Relief Society presidents regarding 
Notes From the Field, wherein it states that: 

We want to keep the Notes current and up-to-date, and in view of the fact that 
the Magazine is prepared three months in advance of publication, we request that ma- 
terial for the Notes be sent to us as soon as possible, and not later than three months 
after the event, otherwise the lapse of time between the event and its publication is 
too great. Please do not send more than one picture of the same event to us as the 
selection of the best picture should be made by the local organization itself. 

Pictures or activities which have appeared in the Church Section of the Deseret 
News are not printed in the Magazine because they reach largely the same readers. 

When pictures of stake boards are submitted for publication, it is essential that 
they be in connection with an account of a Relief Society activity. 

This ruling went into effect as of January i, 1956. 

[Programs for JfLnntversaru UJau 

T)LAYS, pageants, and programs suitable for presentation as a part of the observance of 
■*• Anniversary Day, March 17th, may be obtained at the office of the general board of 
Relief Society, 40 North Main Street, Salt Lake City, Utah, at a cost of 15c for each 
program. The following programs are suggested as suitable for Anniversary Day: 

1. "A Great Day for Women." A re-enactment of the organization of Relief 
Society written in the spirit of the occasion, historically accurate, although not all state- 
ments are direct quotations. 

Characters: Eight who speak, thirteen who represent others present. 
Time: Approximately 25-30 minutes. 

2. "Relief Society Memory Book," script by Virginia Driggs Clark. Additions 
by Marianne C. Sharp and Alberta H. Christensen. 

Characters: Reader and nine women from album representing the different general 
Relief Society presidents. 

Time: Approximately 30 minutes. 

3. "On Your Birthday," by Alberta H. Christensen. A very short playlet in one 
scene dealing with the organization of Relief Society in a generalized way. 

Characters: Three — Time: Approximately 10 minutes. 

For a complete list of plays, pageants, and programs, see The Relief Society Maga- 
zine for November 1953, pages 745-749. 

Page 101 

LKecipes QJrom ^YLustralia 

Submitted by Irene T. Eiekson 

(Elsie F. Partem) 

1 stale cake, plain or sponge, broken into pieces. Moisten with orange juice. 

Have ready a cool custard; pour over gently and mix without breaking cake. Over 
this put set jello, cut into cubes (red and green or red and yellow) . Cover with whipped 
cream flavored with vanilla and sugar. Sprinkle with chopped walnuts or almonds, or 
glazed cherries. Chill. Cut and serve in wedges. 

Steak and Kidney Pie 
(Elsie F. Parton) 

1 lb. steak, cut into 2-inch pieces (remove all fat) 

2 kidneys — sheep, ox, or veal (skin and cut into small pieces) 
i medium onion, cut fine 

Simmer meat and onion in water until tender. Season with salt and pepper to 
taste. Thicken with i Vi tbsp. flour. Add i tsp. Vegemite (or substitute Kitchen Bou- 
quet gravy mix) for color. Line greased pie tin with pastry. Fill pie with meat mix- 
ture; cover with pastry and prick with fork. Brush pastry with milk. Bake in very hot 
oven until brown. 


6 oz. shortening i tbsp. lemon juice 

Vi tsp. baking powder i egg yolk 

i tbsp. water pinch salt 
Vi lb. flour 

Sift flour, baking powder, salt. Rub shortening into flour until mixture looks like 
bread crumbs. Add water, egg, lemon juice, gradually, making into a dry dough. Turn 
onto lightly floured board and handle as lightly as possible. When rolling out, move 
rolling pin in one direction only, not back and forth. 

Coconut Biscuits (Cookies) 
(Irenia P. Innis) 

Vi lb. arrowroot biscuits (or use Vi lb. i tsp. vanilla 

vanilla wafers) coconut, finely cut 

l tin condensed milk 2 tbsp. cocoa 

Roll the biscuits out fine; add cocoa; moisten with condensed milk to which the 
vanilla has been added. Mix well; make into small balls, about l inch in diameter. Roll 
in coconut, and flatten. 

Boiled Fruit Cake 

Vi lb. raisins i c. sugar 

i Vz lb. mixed fruit i lb. butter or margarine 

i c. water i tsp. soda 

Place above ingredients in saucepan. Bring to boil, and cook 5 minutes, stirring 
constantly. Let cool. Add Vi tsp. cinnamon, Vi tsp. ginger, 1 tbsp. vanilla. Break in 
6 unbeaten eggs; mix well together. Add 1 cup walnuts. Gently stir in 4 cups self- 
rising flour. Line tins with heavy paper and grease well. Bake at 30o°F. for 3 hours. 
While baking, cover pans with more heavy paper. 

Where self-rising flour cannot be obtained, add baking powder according to amount 
of flour, as directed on the can. 

Page 102 

cJnbute to the Visiting cJeachers 

Wanda Pexton 

A visiting teacher is a helping hand to the Relief Society in reaching out and draw- 
ing our sisters into this noble organization. 

She is an angel of mercy as well as a missionary. It is her desire and also a privi- 
lege to relieve the needy and distressed, to give succor and comfort in times of illness 
and death. She can uplift the spirit by instilling love, faith, peace, and harmony as 
she enters the threshold of each home. 

C/he 1 1 la j es tic View 

Ruth Wilson 

A tropical sun shone down unmercifully, wilting the hikers on the precipitous moun- 
tain path. Exhausted, they halted and wished for water. Resting often, in the 
sparse shade of overhanging bushes, they encouraged each other with the thought of the 
majestic view visible from the summit. 

I too have climbed life's rugged path, beset with discouragement and weariness, 
and halting, wondered if I could achieve my ideals and purposes. Yet, I, too, have 
fell the awesome and exultant thrill of extended, comprehensive vision. 

^Jjown Under 

Ruth MacKay 

The strength and the pride of a nation lie in its people, they say, 

And here the casual Australian excels in his happy way; 

The strength of the blue hills upholds him, in his search for the right and true; 

And the sun-drenched acres of country give him vision to carry it through. 

His soul is inspired by the beauty of rivers and lakes and of sea; 

And wherever there's danger to threaten, that's where Aussies are likely to be. 

We welcome a new population, from lands in sore trouble o'er-sea, 
And gladly accept their traditions, with the crafts and the cultures they bring; 
But we must not forget our first settlers, the black men whose praises we'll sing, 
For paintings and carvings they've left us, on their long walkabouts through 

the scrub, 
When the country was wide-open spaces, and they lived on the witchetty grub . . 

We lift up our voices, Australians, in praise of this great open land, 

And give to our brothers in friendship, the warmth of our welcoming hand. 

We'll go on together to make this a home full of plenty and peace, 

And the nations which see us will wonder and their talks of war shall cease. 

Our destiny is in the future, let's make it as great as we can, 

So lift up your voices, Australians. Be proud of your own noble land! 

Page 103 

World of Three 

Nell Murbarger 

BY four o'clock of a midwinter 
afternoon, a great stack of 
juniper wood and pitch-pine 
bark would have been corded be- 
hind the cookstove in our little one- 
room homestead shanty. The dozen 
hens would have been fed, the eggs 
gathered, two cows milked, and the 
two horses comfortably bedded for 
the long night ahead. 

On these winter days, our thin, 
cold sun never seemed actually to 
set, but, with the waning hours of 
afternoon, receded only a bit farther 
into the dull gray void of the winter 
sky. With that final recession, night 
would close upon us, a night when 
the wild wind of the High Plains 
country would whistle and wail, and 
snow would pile deeply around the 
little sod claim shack, where Father 
and Mother constituted my world 
and all its people. 

Even though there had been 
nothing beyond those four walls 
but whirling winter and gray vague- 
ness and lean coyotes slinking 
through the coulees, it would have 
been enough for me, for within 
those walls I never knew any lack 
of warmth and peace and love, and 
the glory of home. 

As Father returned to the house 
from his final inspection of barn and 
cattle, the angry wind would whip 
through the hastily opened slab door 
to lay a skiff of snow on the floor, 
and whirl through the room like a 
busy old woman hunting a stray 
particle of dust. But once Father 
was inside, the door would be 
closed, the heavy crossbar dropped 
into place behind it; and, with a 

Page 104 

folded burlap sack laid along the 
crack at the door's lower edge, all 
the wind and weather and winter 
would be shut outside like an un- 
welcome intruder! 

Removing his four-buckle Arctics 
and his sheepskin coat and cap, Fa- 
ther would knock them free of en- 
crusting snow and hang them beside 
the stove to dry; and with his back 
turned to the crackling wood blaze 
and hands locked behind him, he 
would stand for awhile, rocking back 
and forth on the balls of his feet, 
and warming himself. Usually he 
had some story to tell — some amus- 
ing antic of the horses, or something 
the snowbirds had done that after- 

Darkness came early on those 
midwinter days, and, even though 
it would be no more than four or 
five o'clock when we ate supper, the 
kerosene lamp would be burning 
brightly in its wall bracket, and the 
gray breast feathers of night would 
be pressing against the small panes 
of our single window. And then, 
with the supper dishes washed and 
dried and stacked away neatly in 
the apple-box cupboard, the long 
winter evening — like an anticipat- 
ed drama — was ready to begin. 

"\\7E had no television, no radio, 
no moving pictures, no close 
neighbors, and, virtually, no money; 
yet, we never wanted for something 
to do. Sometimes we hand-cleaned 
navy beans, picking out pebbles and 
bits of pod, and leaving only perfect 
beans to be traded to the grocer for 
sugar and flour. Other times we 



shelled seed corn or mended har- 
ness; but, even though we had no 
special work to perform, there was 
never any lack of activity. 

Gathered around the oilcloth-cov- 
ered kitchen table, we played " Au- 
thors," "Old Maid," or "Pit," or en- 
joyed lively sessions of dominoes or 
croquinole. Or mother and father 
would play checkers, with me look- 
ing on and trying desperately to 
foresee the "traps" they were laying 
for one another. 

In the course of every evening 
there was certain to be an hour or 
so when we took turns reading 
aloud. No matter how little money 
there might be for other things, we 
always managed to take a few maga- 
zines — Youth's Companion, Farm 
and Home, Comfort, and, generally, 
the National Geographic. And, al- 
though there was no library closer 
than the distant county seat — an 
almost mythical town which we vis- 
ited not oftener than twice each 
year — we even had books to read. 
Some of them, such as Robinson 
Crusoe, Treasure Island, and Swiss 
Family Robinson, had been cher- 
ished by Father and Mother in 
their own childhood. Others had 
been sent to us by city relatives as 
Christmas and birthday gifts; but, 
whatever its manner of origin, every 
one of those volumes had been read 
and reread until it was smudged and 
weary and limp-backed, and almost 
committed to memory. But what 
a wonderful wide world came troop- 
ing past our fireside through the 
pages of Joseph C. Lincoln, Gene 
Stratton Porter, and Harold Bell 
Wright! As Father read aloud in 
his full, rich voice, or I took my 
turn struggling, not too skillfully, 

with the grownup words and phras- 
es, Mother would always be busy at 
some sort of sewing — either mend- 
ing or braiding strips of rags for a 
rug, or piecing quilt blocks. 

COMETIMES, as the evening 
progressed, Father would take 
the little wire corn popper from its 
nail on the side of the cupboard 
and, ladling into it a few handfuls 
of popcorn we had grown that sum- 
mer, he would shake it over the fire 
until the tender white grains began 
bursting with a staccato clatter. 
After a huge panful had been 
popped, Mother would melt a gen- 
erous slice of butter and stir it into 
the fluffy mass. Sometimes, for a 
change, we parched sweet corn — 
the hard, dry kernels being placed in 
a skillet, with butter and salt, and 
heated until they swelled to double 
their volume and became crisp and 
crunchy; or we made popcorn balls, 
or pulled taffy, using Mother's scis- 
sors to cut it into fat little pillows. 
For extra-special occasions, we 
might have even a dish of fruit; but 
apples must be shipped all the way 
from Oregon, and, consequently, 
were scarce and expensive; oranges 
were never seen save at Christmas 
time, and bananas were seldom 
seen at all. 

With the hour drawing toward 
nine, Father would shake down the 
grate and poke the embers, sending 
a shower of gleaming sparks sailing 
into the dark night. Games and 
books laid aside, we would pull our 
chairs to the fire. With Zip, the 
Collie, resting her cold muzzle on 
Father's knee and looking search- 
ingly into his face, and Stripes, the 
tiger cat, purring contentedly on 



Mother's lap, we would talk of our 
hopes for the spring ahead, the gar- 
den we would plant, the baby chicks 
we would raise. 

It didn't matter that our home 
was only a drab little sod shanty, 
lost in a winter void. Despite its 
plainness and crudeness, its walls 
and roof were stout and tight, and 

it was ours — a symbol of our se- 
curity, our solidarity as a family, our 
ability to meet the High Plains 
country on its own terms. No mat- 
ter how wildly the wind might 
howl, how cold and dark the night, 
our animals were dry and warm in 
the barn, and peace and content- 
ment reigned in our World of 

cJable Jjecorattons for <ytnatversary LQatf 

Inez R. Allen 

"C^ACH year as the month of March approaches, we are mindful that it brings the 
*-^ anniversary of our beloved Relief Society. We have been privileged to have this 
organization for nearly one hundred and fourteen years. It gives to our sisters a well- 
rounded development and growth through service. 

Most great people and events are honored on their anniversaries. Their many vir- 
tues and achievements are rehearsed. None deserves special mention more than does 
our Relief Society organization. 

The picture on the opposite page was taken of a table-setting designed to represent 
the many phases of this organization. 

In all good arrangements there is always a focal point, something of special interest. 
Inasmuch as this was our anniversary celebration, a large oblong cake was used as the 
point of interest. White icing was used as background, and large yellow roses and rose- 
buds, with an occasional tiny bluebird, made an attractive border. In the center was 

Happy Birthday 

Relief Society 

1842 — 1955 

The cake was supported on a bank of green lemon leaves, which afforded an at- 
tractive background for the many golden daffodils and blue Dutch iris. These two 
flowers were chosen because they represent the "blue and gold" emblem of the Relief 
Society organization. 

The dolls, dressed in pastel colors of pink, green, yellow, orchid, blue, and white, 
represented the six phases of the Relief Society programs. They are seen presenting a 
candle around which is draped a ribbon. On the ribbon is printed each special phase. 
They are: Theology, Work Meeting, Literature, Social Science, Visiting Teachers, and 
the Magazine. Each doll carries an article representing her special phase, for example, 
the one representing Theology carries a tiny Book of Mormon; for Literature it is a 
miniature book of the Literature of England. A basket carrying small quilt blocks, 



Hal Rumel 


thimble, thread, and needle, and a tiny tea towel, represents the Work Meeting. So- 
cial Science holds a miniature scroll of the Constitution of the United States. A small 
duplicate of the Magazine represents that phase, while the last doll carries a Visiting 
Teacher blank. 

There is one more thing that is outstanding in the Relief Society program. It is 
the music. The harmony and spirit with which the songs are sung are really thrilling 
and inspirational. The Singing Mothers in nearly every ward have achieved great suc- 
cess and honor. To represent this, musical notes of gilded paper were placed at stra- 
tegic places throughout the arrangement. 

Using the suggestions offered here, several different arrangements might be made, 
for example: 

1. A float, made of flowers or some other material carrying these different phases, 
could very beautifully be arranged. 

2. Perhaps a May Pole, representing the Relief Society, might be made with rib- 
bons reaching out to each doll. 

3. A garden scene wherein the dolls might be the center of a beautiful flower plot. 
The flowers in each case would match the color of the dress. 

4. A low, long arrangement with the six representing candles formed in a semi- 
circle at one end of the flowers. 

With a bit of imagination and a clever use of flowers and symbols, our Relief 
Society can reign supreme on each anniversary. 

Salads for utealth and {Beauty 

Rhea H. Gardner 

Extension Service Home Management and Furnishings Specialist 
Utah State Agricultural College 

THE list of possible combinations of vegetables and fruits for salads is as long as your 
imagination. If you have plenty of imagination, you will have little need for 
recipes. However, sometimes our imagination gets a bit sluggish and requires a little 
push to get it going. That's the purpose of the following recipes and suggestions for 
salad combinations. 

Vegetable Salad Combinations 

1. Cut or break up leaves of lettuce, endive, and water cress. Toss together in a 
salad bowl with tomato wedges, sliced cucumbers, radishes, and little green onions, 
sliced. Serve with French dressing. 

2. Mix thinly sliced radishes, water cress, endive, and cauliflower broken into pencil 
size flowerets. Toss together with French dressing. 

3. Mix together narrow strips of green pepper, sliced celery, cucumber, and very 
thinly sliced carrots and turnips. Serve on a bed of lettuce with French or Thousand 
Island dressing. 

4. Toss together, just before serving time, shredded cabbage, shredded tender young 
beets, and very thin strips of green pepper. Season with French dressing. 

Fruit Salad Combinations 

1. Alternate wedges of avocado, orange, and grapefruit on a bed of lettuce or 
endive. Serve with fruit French dressing. 

2. Combine melon balls of honeydew, cantaloupe, and watermelon. Serve in let 
tuce cups with fruit French dressing. 

3. Combine equal amounts of cantaloupe or honeydew melon balls with sections 
of grapefruit. Serve with pineapple dressing. 

4. Peel and core fresh or canned pears. For each serving allow half a pear. Frost 
with softened cream cheese and roll in chopped peanuts or blanched and toasted al- 
monds. Serve with or without a cream-type dressing. 

Fresh Fruit Salad Plate 

Any variety of fresh fruit may be used. Select fruit combinations that will give a 
pleasing color harmony. Leave berries and sweet cherries whole, cut peaches, fresh pine- 
apple, melons, and pears in bite-size pieces. 

Fruit Plate as a Dessert 

Finely crush ice and form on a mound on a serving platter. Put one end of a 
toothpick into a piece of fruit and the other into the mound of crushed ice. Continue 
until the ice is all covered with fruit. Refrigerate until ready to serve. Thoroughly chill 
but do not freeze fruit. Serve as a dessert with a heavy meal. 

French Dressing 

1/3 cup vinegar or lemon juice 1 teaspoon paprika 

1 cup salad or olive oil 1 teaspoon sugar, if desired 

% teaspoon pepper few grains cayenne 

Combine all ingredients. Shake or beat until thoroughly combined. Chill. 

Page 108 


Fruit French Dressing 

% cup orange juice X A cup salad or olive oil 

!4 cup pineapple juice l A teaspoon salt 

2 tablespoons lemon juice 1 teaspoon sugar 

Combine all ingredients. Beat or shake until well blended. 

Pineapple Dressing 

l A cup sugar 1 Vi cups pineapple juice, or combination 
2 tablespoons cornstarch of orange and pineapple 

dash celery salt 4 egg yolks, slightly beaten 
!4 teaspoon salt % cup lemon juice 

Mix dry ingredients in the top of a double boiler. Stir in the pineapple juice. 
Cook over boiling water, stirring constantly until mixture thickens. Cover and cook for 
10 minutes, stirring occasionally. 

Stir a little of the hot mixture into slightly beaten egg yolks. Add to remaining 
hot mixture. Cook over hot water, stirring constantly for 3 minutes. Stir in lemon 
juice. Chill. 

When the dressing is cool, fold in 1 cup of heavy cream, whipped. 

■ m ■ 

LPra trie vUi n ter 

Grace Barker Wilson 

All night long, under frozen sky 
With never a hint of stars or moon, 
The prairie lay like a dragon fly 
Wrapped in an eiderdown cocoon. 

No wind ruffled the icy air 
Nor stirred a flake of the falling snow; 
Not even a track of wild thing there 
To mar the quietness below. 

With ashen face the morning came, 
But no sun pierced the overcast, 
While winter's undisputed claim 
Held all the prairie frozen fast. 

1 1 lart/ iulanchard vl/illtams ^Decorates L^akes 

A^ARY Blanchard Williams, St. Anthony, Idaho, has developed a hobby which 
•*• * makes use of her artistic abilities and, at the same time, proves to be useful and 
challenging. She is especially skillful in making ornately decorated cakes for special 
occasions. The cake which she made for the nith birthday anniversary of Relief So- 
ciety was a masterpiece of graceful scrolls and leaf and flower designs, bearing the mot- 
to: "Charity Never Faileth." Mrs. Williams has found that a cake made especially 
for an important occasion makes that occasion even more important in the memories 
of people who are eager to cherish the happening of a birthday celebration, a wed- 
ding, or a wedding anniversary, or the delights of a holiday. 

Mrs. Williams, as a young woman, was left a widow with six children and a farm. 
With the help of her boys, she managed the farm, and with great success she reared 
her children and educated them. Later, she married again, and by this marriage be- 
came mother to eight stepchildren. She has shared with her large family the experi- 
ences of missions, college education, friendships, and the deep joy of seeing children 
mature into useful and happy citizens and devoted members of the Church. More- 
over, she has found time for much Church work, including eight years as a Primary 
president, ward organist and ward chorister for many years, and for five years she served 
as president of Yellowstone Stake Relief Society. In her happy, busy life, Mrs. Williams 
exemplifies the old saying: "If you want something done well, ask a busy person 
to do it." 

Page 110 


Mabel Jones Gabbott 

Time is a fleet winged chariot whose wheels 
Trace on one's face for all the world to see 
Unspoken thoughts, and words, and all one feels, 
In fretful lines or smooth serenity. 


Chapter 8 (Conclusion) 
Fav Tarlock 

JIM'S face softened. "If I had 
my way," he said in a half 
whisper to Graciela, "I'd take 
you to Salt Lake to see the golden 
angel on the temple, but that will 
have to wait a while. Anyway/' he 
gave her a little hug, "we have first 
to see that you are prepared for bap- 

"The baptism, we are ready for 
that," Graciela told him eagerly, her 
face alight. 

"No," Jim still held her, "it is 
too important a step to be done 
emotionally. It is forever, and I 
want you to be sure you know what 
you are doing." 

I watched Graciela withdraw 
from his arms and firm herself to 
oppose him. "If we do things with- 
out emotion, we are cold, useless 
things." Her voice rose a little. 
"My mother and I have had two 
years to know the Church, and in 
this I tell you the sacred truth, I 
was ready before I met you. My 
mother will tell you that." She 
stood there, an exquisite figurine, 
but there was strength and decision 
in her. 

When Lolita spoke her agree- 
ment, Jim demurred no more. 

"But there is," Jim said, his hands 
thoughtfully in his pockets, "an 
old Spanish custom that bothers 

"Meaning what?" I spoke to him 
in English, and he answered me in 

"It's hard to explain it, but I 
guess it's the whole thing, the big 

wedding with all the fuss. I like 
privacy and simpleness. Once we 
started the thing, we'd follow tra- 
dition and go the whole way, the 
full three days. And you know how 
it is." He looked like a small boy 
caught in a transgression. "The 
bridegroom has to furnish every- 
thing, the wedding clothes, the 
feast. It would take all I've been 
saving to equip my office when I'm 
ready for practice. But all that 
aside, I'd like nothing better than 
a quiet ceremony in your garden, 
with your permission of course, and 
El Presidents officiating." 

He looked first at Graciela, then 
at her mother, and back to the girl. 
"Couldn't we do that, no fuss, no 
feathers, no band, just a marriage?" 

Ardently Graciela translated for 
her mother. "Couldn't we," she 
ended in a plea, "be married here 
in the garden by El Presidents? 
Jaime says it is an American custom 
to have simple weddings, and we 
should consider his wishes." 

"I have heard of these simple 
American weddings," Lolita replied, 
all scorn. "Three minutes to be 
married and not much longer to be 
divorced. I have but one daughter, 
and I want her to have a wedding 
to remember all her life with pride. 
If you," she turned to Jim, "are sin- 
cere in your wishes to live here, you 
will respect our traditions." 

"What can I say to that?" Jim 
grinned at me. "Everything seems 
to be turning out all right. I'll go 

Page 111 



along with anything except a three- 
day fiesta." 

"You're in capable hands," I told 
him. "You get back to the hospital 
and don't worry about a thing." 

With Jim in proud possession, I 
bade them goodnight. Lolita's bow 
was formal as to a mistress, and I 
was troubled, for we should be 

HPHAT night may not have been 
the exact moment when the 
idea began fermenting in my mind, 
but the germ of it was there when 
I awoke the next morning, refreshed 
from the first sound sleep in a week. 

I told Amporo to get breakfast 
for the children while I went to 
market. It was so early that, save 
for an occasional maid sweeping the 
sidewalk, only the rag pickers were 
on the streets, eager to get first 
chance at the storm's debris. Over- 
head the sun moved in a washed 
sky, and the breeze was light and 

In the market a few customers 
were about, cooks who had risen 
early and a few energetic house- 
wives. I found Roberto alone at 
his stall, arranging a pyramid of 
oranges. After my compliment on 
his design, he selected a few limes, 
a small papaya, and a kilo of banan- 
as for me. All the while I kept the 
conversation on one theme, that of 
the friendly, helpful Church people 
who made me feel so at home in 

"Si," Roberto beamed, holding 
the bananas for my inspection. "The 
Church makes us one indeed." 
Graciously he inquired if my little 
protege and her mother were ready 
for membership, though of late he 

had been saddened because of their 
absence at the Sunday service. 

He would soon be happy, I told 
him. Lolita and her daughter 
would probably be at the service 
next Sunday. "Graciela and the 
young doctor— to be," I said as if 
it were an afterthought, "are to be 

"No me digosr Roberto pushed 
over the pyramid of oranges in his 
excitement. "Esas son de veras 
buenos nuevosf Over the tumbled 
fruit he leaned, his face close to 
mine, exclaiming, "When will wed- 
ding be?" 

By now Jorgina, his wife, who 
presided over a nearby stall of fruit, 
rushed over to hear the news. 

Absentmindedly I pushed the 
oranges towards Jorgina, who 
stacked them with expert brown 
fingers. "It presents a little prob- 
lem," I mused, eyes on the oranges. 
"It is the wish of the doctor to have 
a simple ceremony at my home with 
only the immediate families present. 
The doctor would find it difficult to 
provide for the Mexican wedding 
with the feast and the bridal finery. 
He also likes quiet weddings." I 
rolled the last orange into Jorgina's 

"It would be a pity to deprive 
their friends of the pleasure of the 
wedding," Roberto said, signaling 
the curious Jorgina to attend to a 
customer. "La Senora Lolita, what 
are her wishes?" He leaned close 
to my ear. 

"Oh," I said, lowering my voice 
to meet his whisper, "you know 
women, Don Roberto." 

Signifying with a humorous smile 
that he did, he led me aside, the 
papaya display shielding us from the 



customers. "Ay, Senora," he sighed 
with an elaborate wink, ''I do in- 
deed know women. But in this in- 
stance it is my opinion that la Se- 
nora Lolita has good reason." 

"With that I agree." I set down 
my basket, heavy with fruit. "Yet 
you must look at the young doctor's 
side. He feels that any money spent 
must go to fix up the old house at 
San Angel, since Lolita insists that 
they live there, and he insists that 
the place is not a fit habitation for 
them. This," I whispered discreetly, 
"is for your ears alone, Don Rober- 
to. For a time it looked as if the 
San Angel house would prevent the 

"Que lastima/" He wiped his 
hands on his stained apron. I could 
see the idea growing in him. Proud- 
ly he raised his head and smoothed 
his black mustache with a con- 
fident hand. "If you would be so 
good as to give me a little time I 
think a way can be found to meet 
Lolita's wishes and, at the same 
time, satisfy the good doctor." 

"You amaze me," I said in ad- 
miration, "but I leave it in your 

With a lordly gesture he lifted 
my basket and summoned a market 
boy to carry it. 

"The marriage is to be very soon," 
I confided, holding a finger on the 
basket to detain the boy. "What- 
ever you do must be quickly exe- 

"You spoke this morning of the 
co-operation of the brothers and sis- 
ters in the Church. Perhaps you 
will see something new." He put 
out his hand. 

"Remember you may call on me 
for anything that is practical for 

me to do." I shook his hand and 
signaled the boy to go. 

"For a little of the material 
things, Senora, we may call on you, 
but the work we will do entirely." 

T ESS than three weeks' time 
passed before the wedding, pre- 
ceded, a few nights before, by the 
baptism of the two women. The 
marriage ceremony, at Lolita's re- 
quest, was held in the garden of the 
old San Angel home. 

After a few preliminary skirmish- 
es with Roberto, I was not consult- 
ed. "You are to be surprised," he 
told me mysteriously. "I am work- 
ing with the missionaries." 

The Relief Society women were 
directly responsible for the feast. 
My assignment was the wedding 
cake. It took Amporo and me a 
full day to buy, beg, and borrow the 
proper pans to make the big three- 
tiered cake — and all my raisins and 
nuts. Amporo dressed the minia- 
ture bride and groom and placed 
them under the silver bell I loaned 
for the occasion. 

Oddly I felt a little left out. Jim 
telephoned me only once. "I'm get- 
ting the afternoon off to spend with 
my future mother-in-law." 

"To do what?" I was mystified. 

"To observe an old Spanish, cus- 
tom." He took delight in teasing 

"I hope you're not going to do 
anything foolish." 

After all, the wedding was only 
the beginning. The future should 
not be mortgaged for it. 

"We're spending our money in 
the meicado — the one you fre- 
quent — so judge for yourself." And 



I had to be satisfied with that 
evasive answer. 

Graciela came once for dinner. 
All she would tell me was that the 
Relief Society women were helping 
her mother make the wedding dress, 
rather wedding dresses, for Lolita 
was to have a new one. 

I don't like mysteries and there 
was a dark spot in my mind that 
said Lolita still resented me. She 
had not even told me of her inter- 
view with Miguel Munoz, whose 
early return was heralded in the 

Late afternoon of the wedding 
day, John and I dressed in our best 
suits, and with the Senora de Vargas 
as our guest, rode to San Angel. 
The twins were with Esperanza, 
who had a tooth extracted earlier in 
the day and was in no mood for a 
fiesta that would last late into the 

On this day of autumn the rain 
came early, staying only long 
enough to polish the shrubbery and 
splash the pavement clean. Over- 
head was an opalescent sky and the 
air was cool and sweet. We were 
in a gay mood as we rode past 
Obregon's monument and the su- 
burban villas onto the rough streets 
of the old part of San Angel. 

John's hand had no sooner found 
the bell, than the gate in the high 
wall swung open, and the happy 
confusion of the party spilled out 
to meet us. The laughter of a hun- 
dred people was mingled with the 
strum of guitars and the higher 
notes of the marimba. 

Before I got past the entrance, 
Amporo, wearing a new pink dress, 
her hair oiled and coiled, and her 
feet uneasy in high heels, pulled at 

my arm. "Come quickly, Senora," 
she trilled, "it is almost time for 
the ceremony, but Roberto says you 
are to see it first." 

\\7ITH no time for a "con permis- 
so," I followed her through 
the shaded hallway into the main 
house where the newlvweds would 
live. "See!" She opened the heavy 
door with a flourish. "Es marvel- 
leso, no?" 

It was indeed marvelous. The 
long room with the windows over- 
looking the gallery and garden had 
been made into a living room. New 
boards replaced the rotted wood, 
and over its newly painted surface 
was a collection of bright serapes 
from Pueblo. A combined book- 
case and table, so new that I could 
still smell the fresh wood, was dec- 
orated with multi-hued flowers. 

"Jorge, the carpenter, made it for 
a wedding gift, but the other things 
are from the Mormones," Amporo 
told me, awed at the generosity. 

The room had two comfortable 
chairs made of cowhide and a num- 
ber of cane-bottomed chairs, bright 
with paint. I recognized the other 
piece of furniture. It was a couch 
Senora de Vargas and I had found 
in her attic. The cover was one of 
native sheets of heavy muslin, which 
Amporo had dyed and embroidered 
with vivid flowers. 

"There is time for only a 
glimpse," Amporo reminded me, 
dancing with excitement. "You 
must see the wonders of the kitch- 

In my heart I had sympathized 
with Jim. It was an impossibility 
to live in this kitchen, so little 
changed from colonial times. The 



brick stove needed the attention of 
two stokers, and the cavernous sink, 
with its trickle of cold water was 
high enough to break a woman's 
back. I thought of the dirty cob- 
webbed walls, the lack of cupboards. 

When Amporo swung open the 
planked door I saw a high-ceilinged 
room freshly whitewashed, the high 
windows sparkling and framed by 
freehand drawings of fruit and flow- 
ers. The ancient brick ovens were 
covered by a dark blue cloth and 
brightened by a basket of golden 

When my eyes had taken in this 
splendor, I saw something that was 
akin to a miracle, a shining table 
top, enameled electric range, so new 
that it sang. In the States at this 
wartime, a new electric range was as 
unobtainable as the moon. Here in 
Mexico it was the possession of the 
rich. When I stopped to examine 
the flower-splayed card tied to the 
oven handle, I saw "Congratula- 
tions" written in the firm hand of 
Miguel Munoz! 

"Look!" Amporo threw open a 
closet door to show me an electric 
water heater, dazzling in its new- 
ness. "Also the gift of the Senor." 

Surprise was hardly the word for 
my reactions. I had not thought 
him capable of sportsmanship in the 
grand manner. After this I could 
think pleasant thoughts of the 

"But the wiring? The house 
needed to be wired for the stove?" 

"It was another of the Mormones, 
a man who is an electrician who 
came with his helper and put all 
new wires in the house. Now," Am- 
poro was brisk, "there is but time 
to see the bathroom and the bed- 

room of Lolita." 

The bathroom I looked at only 
long enough to see that some mod- 
ern fixtures with a banker's card had 
been installed, and the broken tile 
repaired. Lolita's room was a simple 
one, far from the street wall, and 
had a dressing table concocted by 
Jorge, the carpenter, and a long 
chest that must have been in the 
old house. I took time to sit on 
the bed. The mattress was new, 
one made of innersprings. 

"El doctor himself gave the bed 
to Lolita," Amporo explained, her 
fingers tracing the design in the blue 
and white spread. 

So Lolita had her soft bed. 

"pROM the kitchen we hurried to 
the gallery to see the wedding 
feast. The late afternoon sun shone 
through the poplars against the con- 
vent wall and threw a light around 
the bell in the tower. Golden shafts 
slanted across the garden, freshly 
trimmed and weeded, and rested 
upon the deep green of the pome- 
granates. The rays filtered through 
the Poinsettia trees and over the 
Burmese honeysuckle that separated 
Ramon's rows of beans from the 
garden. On the lawn, still shaggy 
from neglect, were the lovely red 
day lilies, open these last days of 
the rain. 

Last of all, the westering rays 
lighted the wedding feast that lay 
like a vast mural against the green 
background of the garden. There 
were stacks of tortillas, warm in 
blue and green napkins; terra cotta 
trays piled with dark green chili 
xellanos; braziers holding steaming 
pots of fri/oJes, fragrant with hot 
sauce and oregano; a copper caul- 



dron filled with camitas; dishes of 
chicken mole brimming with dark 
sauce; deep pans of cabrito el homo, 
and bright dishes of sharp-tasting 
guacamole; colorful baskets spilling 
with the fruits of Mexico — man- 
goes, golden ripe, papaya ready for 
their baths of lime juice, sticks of 
freshly cut pineapple, slices of the 
pink mammea, and rosy strawber- 
ries, small and fragrant. 

In the very center was the wed- 
ding cake on a bank of flowers, and 
scattered about were the lacy bask- 
ets of sweet rolls and the glazed 
pastilles. In the background were 
the gayly designed pitchers, full to 
the brim with limonade, and the 
exotic drink of mango juice. So 
colorful was the feast that it seemed 
a desecration to touch it. 

Against the flaming bougain- 
villaea and blue plumbago that 
shaded the south gallery, the wed- 
ding guests waited in the shimmer- 
ing light, ready for the feast that 
would begin as soon as El Presi- 
dente pronounced the words — and 
the bride kissed within an inch of 
her life. I saw among the expectant 
group the bright blouses and shirts 
of the country people, splashes of 
accent for the dark garb of the city 
guests. To one side, half lost in 
the green shade, were a group of 
young persons dressed in green and 
white with sequin trimmings. They 
carried silver-trimmed sombreros 
and crimson serapes for the grace- 
ful jarabe tapatio to come later in 
the evening. 

In the far background against the 
plum trees were the musicians, 
shepherded by the proud Roberto, 
their instruments hushed but them- 
selves poised for the signal that 

would start the festivity. All of a 
sudden, a wave of something that 
was more than exhilaration pos- 
sessed me. It was a disembodied 
elation that seemed to lift and hold 
me above the garden with its riot 
of color and emotion. This, my 
heart said, is home. Tonight you 
will be happy with your people. 

My husband's beckoning eye, 
Amporo's quick tug, made me rea- 
lize that the ceremony waited for 
my presence beside Lolita. My feet 
quickened on the damp grass, and 
I saw El Presidente, benevolent and 
towering in his black broadcloth 
and snowy linen, urging me for- 
ward. Waiting outside in a bower 
of autumn flowers stood Jim and 
Graciela. Jim was smiling and con- 
fident in his white jacket, but it 
was Graciela, petite and radiant, 
who drew all eyes. 

Jim's almost imperceptible wink 
brought my gaze to the bridal dress. 
It was a simple one, white, and 
fashioned after the native style, with 
a long swirling skirt and full blouse, 
embroidered in bright bands of 
cross-stitch. On the girl's slen- 
der feet were thonged sandals, and 
her blue-black hair was brushed in- 
to a shining pompadour in which 
she wore a single red Camellia. 

Jim's eyes took me from the bride 
to her mother. Lolita stood to one 
side, her graying hair coiled at her 
neck, her black eyes wet with happy 
tears. Like Graciela's, her dress ma- 
terial had been purchased by Jim 
in the market and made with the 
loving hands of the Church women. 
It was deep blue, with a full skirt 
and embroidered in red and green 
flowers. On her arm she carried a 
long white scarf with a band of in- 



tricately woven flowers. Later, when 
the evening wind blew cold from 
the snow-topped mountains, she 
would place it on her child's shoul- 

Quickly I advanced towards Lo- 
lita, my hand outstretched. Would 
she greet me with a courteous bend 
of her head and a respectful "Se- 
nora," or would her eyes look 

straight into mine? So near was I 
that the hem of my tailored suit 
touched the crisp folds of her blue 
gown; yet I did not know the an- 
swer. But, as our hands touched, 
her fingers were firm in mine, and 
she raised her eyes. With a warm 
smile, her hands pressed tightly over 
mine, and she said, "Bien venida, 
muy Hermana." 

one t«wct\.» 

lllirnature Lrlants 

Elizabeth. Williamson 

"V/flNIATURE plants are not a new idea. The Japanese and the Chinese thought of 
-*■ * them centuries ago. However, the charm of these tiny plants and containers con- 
tinues to please us, and their uses are many. They always delight anyone who creates 
them or anyone who receives them as a gift. Keep on hand very small containers and 
the smallest of flower pots, and when you are transplanting or making slips, put the 
smallest ones in the containers. Rock plants and succulents seem to adapt themselves 
best to miniature planting. Enliven the pots with tiny colorful figurines which you 
may pick up from time to time. These miniature plants make charming gifts and will 
be joyfully received. 

From The Field 

Margaret 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 Instructions, page 123. 


Photograph submitted by Florence O. Gillman 


BAZAAR, October 6, 1955 

Standing, left to right: President Alice T. Judd; work meeting leader Fern M. 
Hicks; First Counselor Beth Hall; Second Counselor Vida F. Conway. 

This ward reports a most successful bazaar: "Our bazaar consisted of rugs made 
by the Deseret Industries, quilts, embroidered and painted pillow cases and tea towels, 
dolls made from men's hose; also monkeys, hassocks made from juice cans, baskets made 
from reeds, planter boxes made from cans and paper mache, aprons, children's clothing, 
homemade soap, hand-painted ceramics, sofa cushions, crocheted handkerchiefs and 
other crocheted novelties, including plates with crocheting around them. We also had 
a bake sale and featured homemade candy. Dinner was served while the bazaar was in 
progress. All of the sisters in the ward worked diligently to make our bazaar a success." 

Florence O. Gillman is president of Timpanogos Stake Relief Society. 

Page 118 



Photograph submitted by Ruth M. Pell 


Stake chorister Jean Porter, stands second from the left in the back row; stake 
organist Katherine Davis is seated at the right end of the second row. Sister Davis has 
been released because of ill health since this picture was taken. Sister Eunice South wick 
the new organist, is not in the picture. 

Ruth M. Pell is president of Santa Rosa Stake Relief Society. 

Photograph submitted by Helen B. Walker 



IN THEIR HONOR, September 22, 1955 

Front row, seated, left to right: Dorothy Harris; Pearl Cook; Emily Cameron; Pearl 
Gravatt; Cora Norton; Josephine Shipp; Phoebe Derricott; Chloe Bailey; Delia Tucker; 
Lillian Day; Janice Romney and baby. 

Second row, standing, left to right: Leona Spillman; Mae McLaws; Edith Bell; 
Louise Koho; Grace Thomas; Ida Francom; Anne George, Secretary-Treasurer; Margaret 
Bartley, First Counselor; Bena Willes, President; Ruth Noble, Second Counselor; LaRue 
Cook; Helen B. Walker, President, Pocatello Stake Relief Society; Agnes Wheatley, 
First Counselor, Pocatello Stake Relief Society; Florence Wright; Louise Decker. 

This special luncheon was held in honor of the visiting teachers who have had a 
one-hundred per cent record for nine years, or ever since the Fourteenth Ward was 
organized from the Second Ward in 1946. 



Photograph submitted by Laura M. Wilkin 



Front row, left to right: Areta Loutensock; Eleanor Whittaker; Louella Wall; La- 
vinia Bullock; lone Ashton; Reva Keetch, First Counselor; Violet Powell, President; 
Clara Silcox, Second Counselor; Josephine Thomas; Delilah Pendleton; Ireta Arave; 
Dorothy Evans; Isabelle Spiers; Alice Warr; La Veda Shurtleff; Mildred Lindberg, Secre- 

Second row, left to right: Dorothy Smith; Annie Fyfe; Helen Duckworth; Ruth 
Coon; Reva Brown; Lorraine Elkins; Alice Carter; Velva Duckworth; Ella Burrell; Ed- 
nal Daybell; Mabel Poulsen; Mabel Martin; Lucile Simpson. 

Third row, left to right: Zelma Hales; Asenath Chipman; Vervene Shaw; Beverley 
Carter; Beatrice Redmond; Gladys Robison; Maxine Crapo; Mary Westerman; Annie 
Nelson; Laura M. Wilkin, President, Oquirrh Stake Relief Society; Hazel Call; Cecil 
Mills; Winnifred Metcalf; Minnie Mills; Myrtle Russon; Evelyn Cook. 

Photograph submitted by Laura Beckstrand 



CONFERENCE, October 1955 

Front row, seated, left to right: Delores Jones; Lola Stevens; Jewel Crosland; Laura 



Beckstrand, President, Millard Stake Relief Society; Merle Hone, director of the Sing- 
ing Mothers; Jo Ann Harmon, accompanist; Mary Jean Robison; Winla Whitaker. 

Second row, seated, left to right: Lillian Rogers, chorister; DeAun Anderson; Ann 
Adams; Henrietta Hunter; Roma Turner; Beth Stephenson; Afton Finlinson; Gladys 
Warner; Nelda Paxton, Stella Day. 

Third row, seated, left to right: Lottie Anderson; Luella Mitchell; Emily Weed; 
Ruby Iverson; Iva Howlett; Helen Stevens; Ethel Wood; Nada Melville; Maxine Row- 
ley; Algie Stephenson. 

Fourth row, standing, left to right: Sarah Stringham; Geneva Jones; Bly Nixon; 
Alice Robison; Louie Duncan; Carol Frampton; Evelyn Peterson; Eva Goulter. 

Photograph submitted by Nilus S. Memmott 


March 17, 1955 

Front row, seated, left to right: Carel Wagner; Agnes Bluth; Rhoda Taylor, First 
Counselor, Juarez Stake Relief Society; Nilus Memmott, President, Juarez Stake Relief 
Society; LaVetta Taylor, Secretary, Juarez Stake Relief Society; Theresa Call; Matilda 
Wagner; Maria Hardy. 

Second row, standing, left to right: Cary Robinson; Thelma Bluth; Ella Anderson; 
Hannah Call, First Counselor, Dublan Ward Relief Society; Bernice Coon, President, 
Dublan Ward Relief Society; Ruth Longhurst, Second Counselor; Marge Alberta Robin- 
son; Hannah Vee Jarvis; Willa Wagner; Nita Taylor; Eloise Spencer. 

Third row, standing, left to right: Beulah McNiel; Leah Robinson; Leona Wagner; 
Lucille Taylor; Glena Call, chorister; Anna Marie Taylor; Nell Bowman; LaRee Bluth; 
Arietta Taylor; Naoma Bowman; Alleen Bowman; Emma Pinon. 

■ m ■ 


Anna Rice 

For many months long 
This was my lament, this was my song, 
"Things are continually going all wrong." 
Suddenly, one day the light I could see, 
It was my thoughts, not things, which were 
bothering me. 


oJheotogyi — Characters and Teaching! 
of The Book of Mormon 

Lesson 40— Christ Among the Nephites 
Elder Lehnd H. Monson 

(Text: The Book of Mormon: 3 Nephi, chapters 11-14) 
For Tuesday, May 1, 1956 

Objective: To testify to the appearance to the Nephites of the resurrected Christ; 

and to comprehend Christ's teachings on baptism; the calling of the Twelve Disciples; 

and the Sermon on the Mount. 

and he came down and stood in the 
midst of them; and the eyes of the whole 
multitude were turned upon him, and 

Appearance of Jesus Christ 

After the cataclysm which they 
, , . , J c • thev durst not open their mouths, even 

had experienced, a group of surviv- on / to another7 * nd wist not what it 

ors was gathered around the temple mea nt, for they thought it was an angel 

in the land Bountiful. They were 
conversing about the changes which 
had taken place and about Jesus 
Christ who was to come. Suddenly 
they heard a voice, but they did not 
understand. Three times they heard 
it. The third time they heard it 
distinctly saying, ''Behold my Be- 
loved Son, in whom I am well 
pleased, in whom I have glorified 
my name— hear ye him" (3 Nephi 

that had appeared unto them. And it came 
to pass that he stretched forth his hand 
and spake unto the people, saying: Behold, 
I am Jesus Christ, whom the prophets 
testified shall come into the world. And 
behold, I am the light and the life of the 
world; and I have drunk out of that bit- 
ter cup which the Father hath given me, 
and have glorified the Father in taking 
upon me the sins of the world, in the 
which I have suffered the will of the 
Father in all things from the beginning 
(3 Nephi 11:8-11). 

The people were so astonished 

As they looked toward heaven flmt they feU tQ the earth for then 

tne Y : ". . . they remembered that it had 

at j a- * «* u~,«, been prophesied among them that 

. . . saw a Man descending out ot heav- *™ r r b 

en; and he was clothed in a white robe; Christ should show himselt UlltO 

Page 122 


them after his ascension into heav- 
en" (3 Nephi 11:12). 

Jesus spoke to them again saying: 

Arise and come forth unto me, that ye 
may thrust your hands into my side, and 
also that ye may feel the prints of the 
nails in my hands and in my feet, that ye 
may know that I am the God of Israel, 
and the God of the whole earth, and have 
been slain for the sins of the world (3 
Nephi 11:14). 

And when they had all gone forth and 
had witnessed for themselves, they did cry 
out with one accord, saying, Hosanna! 
Blessed be the name of the Most High 
God! And they did fall down at the feet 
of Jesus, and did worship him (3 Nephi 

In this decisive manner, Jesus af- 
firmed his divinity, and by means 
of displaying his wounds established 
beyond doubt that he was Jesus the 
Christ, and that he had atoned for 
the sins of the world. 

Twelve Disciples Chosen 

Singling Nephi out of the multi- 
tude, Jesus said to him, "... I give 
unto you power that ye shall baptize 
this people when I am again ascend- 
ed into heaven" (3 Nephi 11:21). 
Eleven others were endowed with 
this same power. ". . . (now the 
number of them who had been 
called, and received power and 
authority to baptize, was twelve) 
. . ." (3 Nephi 12:1). Jesus gave 
them specific words to be used in 
performing the ordinance and in- 
structed them to baptize by immer- 

Verily I say unto you, that whoso re- 
penteth of his sins through your words, 
and desireth to be baptized in my name, 
on this wise shall ye baptize them — Be- 
hold, ye shall go down and stand in the 
water, and in my name shall ye baptize 


And now behold, these are the words 
which ye shall say, calling them by name, 

Having authority given me of Jesus 
Christ, I baptize you in the name of the 
Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy 
Ghost. Amen. 

And then shall ye immerse them in the 
water, and come forth again out of the 

And after this manner shall ye baptize 
in my name; for behold, verily I say unto 
you, that the Father, and the Son, and 
the Holy Ghost are one; and I am in the 
Father, and the Father in me, and the 
Father and I are one. 

And according as I have commanded 
you thus shall ye baptize. And there 
shall be no disputations among you, as 
there have hitherto been; neither shall 
there be disputations among you concern- 
ing the points of my doctrine, as there 
have hitherto been. 

For verily, verily I say unto you, he that 
hath the spirit of contention is not of me, 
but is of the devil, who is the father of 
contention, and he stirreth up the hearts 
of men to contend with anger, one with 
another (3 Nephi 11:23-29). 

In regard to baptism the Savior 
further said: 

And whoso believeth in me, and is bap- 
tized, the same shall be saved; and they 
are they who shall inherit the kingdom of 

And whoso believeth not in me, and is 
not baptized, shall be damned. 

Verily, verily, I say unto you, that this 
is my doctrine, and I bear record of it 
from the Father; and whoso believeth in 
me believeth in the Father also; and un- 
to him will the Father bear record of me, 
for he will visit him with fire and with 
the Holy Ghost. 

And thus will the Father bear record 
of me, and the Holy Ghost will bear rec- 
ord unto him of the Father and me; for 
the Father, and I, and the Holy Ghost 
are one. 



And again I say unto you, ye must re- 
pent, and become as a little child, and be 
baptized in my name, or ye can in nowise 
receive these things. 

And again I say unto you, ye must re- 
pent, and be baptized in my name, and 
become as a little child, or ye can in no- 
wise inherit the kingdom of God. 

Verily, verily, I say unto you, that this 
is my doctrine, and whoso buildeth upon 
this buildeth upon my rock, and the gates 
of hell shall not prevail against them. 

And whoso shall declare more or less 
than this, and establish it for my doctrine, 
the same cometh of evil, and is not built 
upon my rock; but he buildeth upon a 
sandy foundation, and the gates of hell 
stand open to receive such when the floods 
come and the winds beat upon them. 

Therefore, go forth unto this people, 
and declare the words which I have spok- 
en, unto the ends of the earth (3 Nephi 

After calling the Twelve Disciples 
Jesus instructed the people ". . . 
Blessed are ye if ye shall give heed 
unto the words of these twelve 
whom I have chosen from among 
you to minister unto you, and to 
be your servants ..." (3 Nephi 

After instructing the people that 
the first principles and ordinances 
of the gospel were prerequisites to 
salvation, and following his empow- 
ering the Twelve Disciples to bap- 
tize the people, Jesus turned to the 
multitude and gave them his Ser- 
mon on the Mount, substantially as 
he gave it on the Eastern Hemi- 

The Seimon on the Mount Retold 
This Sermon on the Mount gives 
in detail the Christian pattern of 
living. This pattern is needed to- 
day perhaps as much as anything in 

the gospel, for we have learned 
many things, but we have not yet 
learned how to live the more 
abundant life. 

The Beatitudes 

The Beatitudes represent Jesus' 
blueprint for happiness and blessed- 
ness. ". . . Blessed are the poor in 
spirit ..." (3 Nephi 12:3) may 
mean blessed are those who feel 
the need of spiritual direction and 
come to Christ for help. Pride, 
self-righteousness, self-conceit are 
condemned. The parable of the 
Pharisee and the Publican is a good 
commentary on this beatitude. 
". . . blessed are all they that mourn, 
for they shall be comforted" ( 3 Ne- 
phi 12:4) has been interpreted by 
James E. Talmage as follows: 

. . . the mourner shall be comforted for 
he shall see the divine purpose of his 
grief, and shall again associate with the 
beloved ones of whom he has been be- 
reft . . . (Jesus the Christ, page 231). 

The meek, in the beatitude 
". . . blessed are the meek ..." (3 
Nephi 12:5) are those people who 
refuse to answer evil with evil, 
which requires real strength of 
character, for it requires restraint of 
anger, hatred, and revenge. ". . . 
blessed are the merciful ..." (3 Ne- 
phi 12:7) reminds us that God will 
pardon our evil deeds in proportion 
as we pardon the evils others do to 
us. He who shows mercy will be 
judged mercifully. The peacemakers 
are blessed because they bring so 
much to others. Peacemakers pla- 
cate; they bring about concord. 
They reconcile men who are at vari- 
ance with one another, whether as 
individuals, classes, or nations. 



Instructions to the Twelve Disciples 
Jesus then speaks of the responsi- 
bility and dignity of the ministry of 
the Twelve Disciples. He empha- 
sizes it with the following ideas: 

Verily, verily, I say unto you, I give 
unto you to be the salt of the earth; but 
if the salt shall lose its savor wherewith 
shall the earth be salted? The salt shall 
be thenceforth good for nothing, but to 
be cast out and to be trodden under foot 
of men. Verily, verily, I say unto you, 
I give unto you to be the light of this 
people. A city that is set on a hill cannot 
be hid. Behold, do men light a candle 
and put it under a bushel? Nay, but on 
a candlestick, and it giveth light to all 
that are in the house; Therefore let your 
light so shine before this people, that 
they may see your good works and glorify 
your Father who is in heaven (3 Nephi 

Christ, the Fulfillment oi the Law 
When Jesus instructs citizens of 
his kingdom concerning righteous- 
ness, he frequently contrasts his 
teachings with those current in the 
law and the prophets, indicating in 
each case the impressive gulf which 
divides his sublime morality from 
the morality of the law and the 
prophets. The old law punished 
only the act of murder, but the law 
of Christ disapproves of the emo- 
tion of anger, thus working for a 
purification of the heart, a schooling 
of the feelings. The old law pun- 
ished the act of adultery, but the 
law of Christ forbids a man to lust 
after a woman, for then he has 
already committed adultery in his 
heart. Christ wanted an inward 
purity. The old law required an 
". . . eye for an eye, and a tooth for 
a tooth" (3 Nephi 12:38). 

The new law required: 

But I say unto you, that ye shall not 

resist evil, but whosoever shall smite thee 
on thy right cheek, turn to him the other 
also .... And whosoever shall compel 
thee to go a mile, go with him twain .... 
And behold it is written also, that thou 
shalt love thy neighbor and hate thine 
enemy; But behold I say unto you, love 
your enemies, bless them that curse you, 
do good to them that hate you, and pray 
for them who despitefully use you and 
persecute you; That ye may be the chil- 
dren of your Father who is in heaven; for 
he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and 
on the good. Therefore those things 
which were of old time, which were un- 
der the law, in me are all fulfilled. Old 
things are done away and all things have 
become new. Therefore I would that ye 
should be perfect even as I, or your Father 
who is in heaven is perfect (3 Nephi 
12:39, 41, 43-48). 

Jesus further states: 

Verily, verily, I say that I would that 
ye should do alms unto the poor; but take 
heed that ye do not your alms before men 
to be seen of them; otherwise ye have no 
reward of your Father who is in heaven 
(3 Nephi 13:1). 

That thine alms may be in secret; and 
thy Father who seeth in secret, himself 
shall reward thee openly. And when thou 
prayest thou shalt not do as the hypo- 
crites, for they love to pray, standing in 
the synagogues and in the corners of the 
streets, that they may be seen of men. 
Verily I say unto you, they have their re- 
ward. But thou, when thou prayest, enter 
into thy closet, and when thou hast shut 
thy door, pray to thy Father who is in 
secret; and thy Father, who seeth in sec- 
ret, shall reward thee openly (3 Nephi 

Lay not up for yourselves treasures up- 
on earth, where moth and rust doth cor- 
•rupt, and thieves break through and steal; 
But lay up for yourselves treasures in heav- 
en, where neither moth nor rust doth cor- 
rupt, and where thieves do not break 
through nor steal. For where your treas- 
ure is, there will your heart be also (3 
Nephi 13:19-21). 

No man can serve two masters; for eith- 
er he will hate the one and love the other, 



or else he will hold to the one and 
despise the other. Ye cannot serve God 
and Mammon ( 3 Nephi 13:24). 

Importance oi Spirituality 

In this sermon to the Nephites, 
Christ points out that materialism 
is made to serve spirituality; it is nev- 
er an end in itself. "But seek ye 
first the kingdom of God and his 
righteousness, and all these things 
shall be added unto you" (3 Nephi 
13:33), Jesus promised. 

Jesus calls censorious persons 
hypocrites, and classifies them as 
worse than the people they criticize. 

And now it came to pass that when 
Jesus had spoken these words he turned 
again to the multitude, and did open his 
mouth unto them again, saying: Verily, 
verily, I say unto you, Judge not, that ye 
be not judged. For with what judgment 
ye judge, ye shall be judged; and with 
what measure ye mete, it shall be meas- 
ured to you again. And why beholdest 
thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, 
but considereth not the beam that is in 
thine own eye? .... Thou hypocrite, first 
cast the beam out of thine own eye; and 
then shalt thou see clearly to cast the 
mote out of thy brother's eye (3 Nephi 

14 :1 "3» 5)- 

The Golden Rule 

Jesus explained his readiness to 
bless mankind: 

Ask, and it shall be given unto you; 
seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall 
be opened unto you. For every one that 
asketh, receiveth; and he that seeketh, 
findeth; and to him that knocketh, it shall 
be opened (3 Nephi 14:7-8). 

Jesus then gave the golden rule: 
'Therefore, all things whatsoever 
ye would that men should do to 
you, do ye even so to them, for this 

is the law and the prophets" (3 Ne- 
phi 14:12). Notice that this rule 
makes Christianity a positive re- 
ligion rather than a negative one. It 
inculcates active benevolence. Jesus 
also warns us to: 

Beware of false prophets, who come to 
you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they 
are ravening wolves. Ye shall know them 
by their fruits. Do men gather grapes of 
thorns, or figs of thistles? (3 Nephi 

Finally, Jesus urged men to acti- 
vate the doctrines he taught in their 
own lives. ''Not every one that saith 
unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter in- 
to the kingdom of heaven; but he 
that doeth the will of my Father 
who is in heaven" (3 Nephi 14:21). 
And he closed the sermon with the 
parable of the man who built his 
house upon the sand and the man 
who built his house upon the rock, 
emphasizing the need for applying 
gospel truths to our lives. Jesus was 
interested in life service to human- 
ity; not lip service. The urgent 
words of the Lord to Moses are 

These words which I command you 
this day, shall be in your heart, and you 
shall meditate upon them, sitting in your 
house and walking on your journey, sleep- 
ing and rising. 

Questions and Topics iox Discussion 

1. Are we applying the teachings of the 
Sermon on the Mount today? 

2. How does the sermon in The Book 
of Mormon differ from the one in the 
Bible? Give instances where Christ points 
out the need for correcting practices. 

3. How does this account of Christ's 
appearance and teachings strengthen your 

Visiting cJeacher 1 1 Lessages 

Book of Mormon Gems of Truth 

Lesson 40— " . . . For Behold, Ye Are Free; Ye Are Permitted to Act For 

Yourselves; For Behold, God Hath Given Unto You a Knowledge 

and He Hath Made You Free" (Helaman 14:30). 

Edith S. Elliott 

For Tuesday, May 1, 1956 

Objective: To show that free agency is an eternal gift. 

HPHERE was never any other in- 
tent by our Heavenly Father 
than that man should be free to act 
for himself. The whole plan of 
salvation encompasses this premise. 
Throughout scriptural history we 
read about the fruits of freedom 
and the curse of bondage. 

In the Book of Helaman, we read 
how Nephi exhorted the people to 
turn from their selfish ways and live 
the gospel of Jesus Christ and be 
ready for his coming. He also re- 
minded them that they each had 
their free agency. In all of our re- 
lations with our Father in heaven, 
he has made it clear that we are at 
liberty to choose our mode of be- 

In our everyday lives it is the di- 
vine gift of freedom that we must 
cherish. Unless we guard this preci- 
ous gift we will be subjects for en- 
slavement by the power of darkness 
in both our spiritual and temporal 

We have all seen the dwarfing ef- 
fects of apathy and indifference to 
a worthy project. These factors 
court decay of the will to do, to act, 
to think, to initiate, to be free. They 
are indeed a form of enslavement. 

Let us be aware of entangling in- 
fluences and cast them aside; rather 
let us choose our Heavenly Father's 
plan. He has given us a knowledge 
that under any circumstance our will 
to do is free. Matthew Arnold's ex- 
planation is: 

Yet the will is free; strong is the soul 
and wise, and beautiful; The seeds of 
God-like power are in us still. Gods are 
we, bards, saints, heroes, if we will (Cour- 
age, page 12). 

To enjoy the liberties with which 
we are so blessed, we must respect 
the rights of others. We do not 
need to indulge our fellow man to 
the point of losing our own free- 
dom and self-respect, nor should we 
be selfish to the point of forcing our 
will upon another. Understanding, 
compassion, and truth are founda- 
tions for peaceful relations one with 

It is only through freedom and 
liberty that we can develop our God- 
given talents and enjoy the oppor- 
tunity to choose our way of life, and 
we should do so, with judgment, in- 
telligence, and honor, for our Heav- 
enly Father has given us the knowl- 

Page 127 

vi/ork 1 1 ieettng — Food Preparation and Service 

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

Lesson 8— Salads 

Rhea H. Gardner 

For Tuesday, May 8, 1956 

CALADS have been accorded an 
undisputed place of importance 
on the family menu, and at many 
social functions where food is 
served. Reasons for their popu- 
larity are many. Salads made from 
fresh fruits and vegetables add col- 
or, eye appeal, and texture contrast 
to many meals that otherwise would 
be too soft and lacking in color for 
appetite appeal. In this weight- 
watching age, they satisfy the ap- 
petite with a minimum of calories— 
unless there is an over-use of rich 

Preparing Salads 

Since the success of many salads 
depends upon crispness and fresh- 
ness, every precaution should be 
taken in their preparation to pre- 
serve these qualities. Always cut 
salad foods with a very sharp knife 
so they will not have that "over- 
handled" look. 

There are certain basic principles 
of salad-making and service that 
apply to all kinds of mixed salads. 

1. Cut pieces up small enough so they 
may be easily eaten, but large enough so 
the identity of each kind of food used is 
not lost. 

2. When combining two or more dif- 
ferent kinds of fruits or vegetables for a 
salad, try for color, flavor, form, and tex- 
ture contrast, as well as harmony. 

3. Plan the ingredients for your salad 

Page 128 

and the salad dressing along with every- 
thing else on the menu so that when 
the meal is served there will be a perfect 
balance of all the essentials of a well- 
planned meal. 

4. Unless served only in minute 
amounts, never duplicate ingredients used 
in a salad in other parts of the meal. 

5. Let simplicity guide you in your sal- 
ad making. A salad that gives the ap- 
pearance of having been worked over is 
seldom attractive. 

6. Never let any part of a salad ex- 
tend beyond the edge of the plate. To 
do so gives the plate an overloaded, care- 
less appearance. 

Salad Dressing 

Salad dressings are of three main 
types — French, mayonnaise, and 
cooked salad dressing. The early 
Romans are credited with being the 
first to use salad dressing. It con- 
sisted of oil and vinegar. The 
French added eggs and seasoning 
to it and called it mayonnaise. The 
American housewives initiated the 
use of boiled salad dressing. Today 
there is almost no limit to the num- 
ber of variations of French dressing 
alone. This is the simplest to make 
and most widely used dressing. 

Tossed Salads 

In some ways tossed salads are 
like little boys. Most everyone 
loves them, and if you want them 
to be nice and fresh looking for the 
dinner party, put the "dressing" on 



them the last minute. They'll both 
lose their chief charm by becoming 
"limp" if you don't. 

Have the ingredients for a tossed 
salad fresh, cold, crisp, and dry, and 
have the dressing ready to put on it 
just as soon as the vegetables are 
prepared. A tossed salad is im- 
proved by giving it a preliminary 
coating of oil. About one table- 
spoonful of salad oil will coat a 
medium-sized head of lettuce. Toss 
it until every leaf is completely 
coated with oil, then follow up with 
the dressing, usually French or one 
of its variations, and toss until it 
is distributed over all the greens. 
If the salad is mixed on this prin- 
ciple it will stay crisp. 

It is unwise to add cut-up toma- 
toes to a tossed salad, as their juices 
thin the dressing. Instead, cut 
them in vertical wedges as they 
bleed less that way, season them in 
a separate bowl if you wish, then 
add them to the salad bowl as a 
garnish. The flavor of all vegetables, 
excluding salad greens, is improved 
by mixing them with French dress- 
ing and allowing them to stand for 
at least one half hour in a cold 
place. Place the seasoned vege- 
tables on the salad greens. They 
may or may not be mixed in with 

Most of us do not begin to ex- 
haust the variety of vegetables that 
are delicious in tossed salads. Bite- 
size flowerettes broken from a head 
of cauliflower or broccoli, shredded 
raw beets or turnips, tender leaves 
of spinach, and raw peas, are a few 
of the delicious but seldom used 
salad vegetables. 

Fruit Salads 

Make fruit salads to be served 
with the main course light and 
simple. The citrus fruits and oth- 
er acid fruits are most appropriate. 
If you use sweet, soft, canned 
fruits, combine them with fresh 
fruits or something crisp, such as 
celery. Drain canned fruits well, 
so ther~ will be no juice on the sal- 
ad plate and the dressing will not 
become diluted. 

Molded Salads 

Molded salads are convenient be- 
cause they demand little last-min- 
ute attention. Make the gelatin 
mixture just firm enough to hold 
the other ingredients together. Se- 
lect a flavor that compliments but 
never dominates the flavor of the 
other ingredients used. 

Variations in Salads 

Main course salads usually con- 
sist of a protein food and fruits or 
vegetables blended together with 
one of the heavier dressings. If 
lettuce is used, add it only after 
other ingredients have been com- 
bined and just before the salad is 
to be served. 

Hot dressing salads may be served 
either as a salad or as a vegetable. 
Hot potato salad dressing is usually 
made of bacon fat, vinegar, and 
seasonings. Luncheon-type meat, 
cheese, or boiled eggs may be added 
before or after the dressing. A sim- 
ple hot dressing made of vinegar, 
eggs, sour cream, and seasonings, 
gives a pleasing variety to cabbage 

A bed for a salad need not always 
be lettuce. Shredded cabbage, 
watercress, tender leaves of spinach, 



shredded carrots, endive, or other will always be a creative experience 

salad greens, make attractive back- to look forward to. 
grounds as well as flavorful ac- 
companiments to salads. Suggestions ior a Demonstration 

Make a habit of using a variety Prepare a variety of salads to 

of salad dressings as well as salad demonstrate the principles of salad 

combinations and meal-planning making. 

Note the supplementary material to this lesson in the article "Salads for Health 
and Beauty," by Rhea H. Gardner, on page 108 of this issue of The Relief Society 

^Literature — The Literature of England 

Lesson 56— Review of English Literature 

Elder Briant S. Jacobs 

(Textbook: The Literature of England, Volumes I and II, Woods, Watt, Anderson) 

For Tuesday, May 15, 1956 

Objective: To remind and surprise ourselves at how much we have forgotten and 

Note: This lesson will be most effective, it is believed, if the program of review 
is followed by using eight participants, as recommended by Brother Jacobs. The general 
board does not approve of women dressing as men; however, the eight sisters who read 
the excerpts might be dressed as women in the dress of the respective periods, and have 
before them the writing materials used at that particular time to lend atmosphere to 
the presentation. 

CHORTLY before his death in 
901 a.d., Alfred the Great, King 
of the West Saxons and one of the 
brightest torches in England's his- 
tory, wrote the following: "He 
seems to me a very foolish man, and 
very wretched, who will not increase 
his understanding while he is alive." 
Earlier, Socrates (469-399 b.c.) had 
written that "surely knowledge is 
the food of the soul," while later 
Francis Bacon (1561-1626) tells us 
that "whatever deserves to exist de- 
serves also to be known, for knowl- 
edge is the image of existence and 
things mean and splendid exist 

alike" (my underscore). Likewise 
we are commanded in the Bible, 
". . . with all thy getting get under- 
standing" (Prov. 4:7) and in the 
Doctrine and Covenants ". . . teach 
one another ... in all things that 
pertain unto the kingdom of 
God..." (D.&C. 88:77, 78). 

How humbly we stand before 
these great words, how full is our 
gratitude for membership in the 
Church whose restoring Prophet 
taught that "A man is saved no fast- 
er than he gets knowledge" 
(D. H. C. IV, 588). How grateful 
for membership in the Relief So- 



ciety, which bolsters its belief in in- 
telligence as God's glory in one way 
by leading its members each study- 
month to "the best that has been 
thought and said in the world." 

Through the past seven years of 
readings and discussions in English 
Literature, we have opened many 
doors, yet, rarely, have we squeezed 
inside more than a toe or a hand- 
once or twice a head, almost. Prob- 
ably a normal reaction might be to 
classify these seven years as an ap- 
prentice period which has served to 
define the outer limits of our scope, 
but now we should really begin to 
master this material which we know 
but casually. To such thorough and 
willing initiates we should point out 
that, by its very nature, this course 
was never meant to be anything but 
introductory. If our study has giv- 
en pleasure in the search and the 
sharing; if it has stimulated our sis- 
ters to love the best enough to 
search for it both within and be- 
yond the bounds of our outline, 
then nothing has been in vain. 

Three Goals Attained 

But though we have not accomp- 
lished all, which was never our aim, 
still we have nibbled at three goals, 
at least. Nothing broadens like 
travel, whether in time or space. In 
our travels back through time we 
have come to know a vast array of 
men and women from all walks of 
life. Because we have become ac- 
quainted with them through their 
most intimate hopes and fears and 
beliefs, as couched in their own 
carefully weighed words, we may 
possibly know their real selves bet- 
ter than did their non-reading con- 

Each of these writers has, in turn, 

led us personally by the hand past 
labyrinths of obscurity, pettiness, 
bombast, and insincerity; past 
mountains of evidence both perti- 
nent and inconsequential, to face 
those conflicts and hopes which 
were central to himself and his age. 
Our survey has thus enabled us to 
peel back the layers of peoples, 
customs, ambitions, and fears which 
have been laid up, then scrambled 
together, to form England through 
the centuries. 

Finally, by bringing us to know all 
sorts of men and cultures through 
time, our survey has provided the 
basis for comparing one reality, one 
writer with another, and most im- 
portant of all, with ourselves and 
our present world. The voyage into 
perpetual self-discovery is one of 
the most important we can under- 
take. Here, again, our survey has 
provided at least a launching. 

Such a study of literature pro- 
longs life by quickening and deep- 
ening it. Wise Winston Churchill 
defines three types of people: those 
who are toiled to death, those who 
are worried to death, and those who 
are bored to death. In the last two 
areas, so increasingly lethal today, 
literature gives ballast and balance 
and inward calm; once these are 
established, zest and the love of life 

Breaking the Time Barrier 

In looking back over these seven 
years devoted to English literature, 
we must remember that, being 
mortal and human, and heirs to 
those who have preceded us, we 
should emphasize those values 
which we have in common with our 
brothers through time rather than 
those which separate us. Thanks to 



the wonders of language and books, 
about the only barrier which sepa- 
rate us— time itself— can be removed 
at any moment by those who will 
bother to open a book. It sounds 
almost too easy. 

It is Herman Melville who re- 
minds us that "genius all over the 
world stands hand in hand, and one 
shock of recognition runs the whole 
circle round." Excellence knows no 


Now let us put our imaginations 
to work; let us annihilate time as 
suggested above. Since, in varying 
degree, each of us recognizes excel- 
lence and genius, consider, if you 
will, how much more apparent these 
high virtues must be to those who 
possess these attributes. Enter with 
us, then, if you can, a large and 
stately study severely plain and sub- 
dued in decor. The walls are book- 
lined from floor to ceiling, the room 
is gently lighted from high narrow 
windows, draped. As we face the 
window-slits, only one object breaks 
the gleam of light reflected across 
the polished floor: a large round 
table in the center of the room. 
Around it are eight high-backed 
oaken chairs spaced at regular inter- 
vals on which eight men are seated, 
writing. The writing materials vary 
—much goat and sheepskin scraped 
clean and dried into parchment, 
various grades and shapes of paper, 
while writing instruments vary from 
goose quills to steel-nib dip pens, 
to handmade pencils and fountain 

We wait for a time. The men 
seem unaware of our presence, writ- 
ing as if in a trance, intent, dedi- 

cated. The tension of stillness is 
blurred only by the scratch of pen- 
flourishes. Still we wait. Finally, 
when nothing happens, slowly we 
approach near enough to read over 
a man's shoulder as he writes. It is 
difficult to see past his massive 
shoulders and full black cowl as he 
leans forward to his manuscript; 
finally we catch a glimpse of his first 
three lines which, translated, read: 

Lo! We have listened to many a lay 

Of the Spear-Danes' fame, their splendor 

of old, 
Their mighty princes, and martial deeds! 

Thus begins BeowuH y the oldest 
known writing in English. Probably 
first written down by this English 
monk, sometime around the year 
1000, it was probably composed in 
northern England about 750. 

Inasmuch as we have used our 
imaginations freely thus far, we can- 
not retract now. Therefore, let us 
imagine the great hall containing 
the round table is our hall here and 
now, and the eight persons seated 
about it are transformed into eight 
Relief Society sisters chosen to 
speak for the eight periods and the 
best writings of each period. Per- 
haps, after an introductory state- 
ment incorporating the scope and 
goals of our study of English litera- 
ture, each of the eight might stand, 
declare the age she represents, then 
read a brief excerpt from the best 
writings of the age before passing 
the continuity on to the next pe- 

In preparing the introductory ma- 
terial or the unifying narrative, the 
class leader should be reminded that 
her functions might be compared to 
that of the string which connects 
the pearls. In this project the em- 



phasis should be on the literature 
itself; theory and history best justify 
themselves, if they merely join to- 
gether the various selections and 
then remain in the background. 

It would seem that the greatest 
problem might be the selecting of 
what to read. Since the purpose of 
this hour is primarily one of enjoy- 
ment through participation and 
recollection, the class leader should 
recall those passages which she re- 
members most fondly or which she 
feels will be best received. 

I. The Old English Period, 449- 
1066 (Text, vol. I, pp. 2-71) 

From the Anglo-Saxon Invasion 
to the Norman Conquest 

In 410 a.d. the Romans left Brit- 
ain. In 428 began the Germanic 
invasions of England, organized 
more completely by Hengest and 
Horsa in 449. Wave after wave of 
Scandinavian Vikings brought con- 
stant pillage and warfare. About 
850 England was conquered by the 
Danes and ruled by them until Al- 
fred the Great broke their power. 

The period began in barbaric 
paganism, with England a mysteri- 
ous isle on the outer edge of civil- 
ization. Blood-guilt or murder- 
guilt could be removed by giving of 
gifts to the murdered's kin. The 
hero-warrior was supreme, and ties 
of blood were strongest. The Teu- 
tonic mind was moody, somber, and 
stubborn. The high virtues, as 
seen in Beowulf, were pride, person- 
al honor, and courage, and loyalty. 

In 597 Christianity was organized 
in southern England by St. Augus- 
tine, and by the end of the period, 
through the saving, perpetuating 
functions of the monasteries and 
the great love of learning of Alfred 

the Great, Christianity was domi- 

The reader might choose to read 
aloud a scene from BeowuJf (pp. 
21-56) or a selection from "The 
Wanderer" (page 57), 'The Sea- 
farer" (page 58), or the lovely, 
simple Parable of the Sparrow as 
found in Bede's Ecclesiastical His- 
tory (page 64, lines 51-72). 

2. The Middle English (or Mediev- 
al) Period, 1066-1485 (Text, vol. I, 
pp. 72-277) 

From the Norman Conquest to 
the Accession of the Tudors 

This period serves as the link be- 
tween wild, prehistoric, and modern 
England. Four great influences 
dominate these centuries: first, the 
conquest of England in 1066 by 
William of Normandy, who made 
French language and literature dom- 
inant until after 1400; second, the 
feudal pattern of life, which pre- 
ceded the English village, in which 
the manor of the lord or the duke 
was the center of life and common- 
ers were serfs or slaves to the mas- 
ter, he in turn having the strongest 
loyalty for his lord and king; third, 
the ideals of chivalry — gentility to- 
ward all women, kindness, courage, 
fighting against wrong, but, most 
powerful of all, was the concept of 
courtly love — all these dominated 
the world of lords and ladies and 
knights. The fourth and greatest 
force of the age, however, was re- 
ligion: the pursuit of the Holy 
Grail, the ten Crusades, the other 
worldliness of the church-dominat- 
ed culture. 

Yet then as now people were peo- 
ple. While there was violent per- 
secution by church and state for 
heresy, there was healthy vigor 



among the commoners, as seen in 
their riddles and ballads which sur- 
vive to the present day, notably 
"Edward" (page 117), 'The Two 
Corbies" (page 119), "Sir Patrick 
Spens" (page 122), "The Wife of 
Usher's Well" (page 124), and 
"Bonny Barbara Allen" (page 124). 
The medieval romance was popular, 
as in Morte Darthur (page 261), 
and Sir Gawain and the Green 
Knight (page 167), and the moral- 
ity play was the great artform for 
the people. Chaucer, by first writ- 
ing in English with power, by com- 
bining almost every contemporary 
subject and literary form in his 
works, but mostly by knowing and 
loving his fellow humans more 
deeply and compassionately than 
almost any other English writer, is 
the best representative of the age. 
The reader might choose to read 
from the folk ballads, or from 
the immortal characterizations of 
knight (page 212), merchant (page 
216), or prioress (page 213), as 
found in the Prologue (page 211) 
to Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. 

3. The Renaissance Period, 1485- 
1625 (Text, vol. I, pp. 278-564) 

From the Accession of the Tu- 
dors to the Death of James I. 

One of the richest flowerings of 
the English spirit, this period pro- 
duced some of its greatest literature, 
as seen in the King James transla- 
tion of the Bible, and in the writ- 
ings of Sir Francis Bacon, John 
Bunyan, Ben Jonson, John Donne, 
Robert Herrick, George Herbert, 
and, above all, William Shake- 
speare. Freed from domination by 
church and illiteracy, more and 
more Englishmen expressed the ex- 
uberance they felt as England be- 

came a great commercial nation and 
the reigning queen of the seas after 
defeating Spain in 1588. Likewise, 
in the discovery that man can know 
and understand the world about 
him, and even control and better 
his lot, the typical Rennaissance 
citizen believed all knowledge to be 
in his province, that everything 
"which deserves to exist deserves to 
be known." 

It is most difficult to choose 
merely one or two selections from 
this age of our greatest poetry, but 
at the top of the list must appear 
Shakespeare's sonnets and selections 
from the King James Bible. Sug- 
gested sonnets are 18 (page 424), 
29 (page 425), 33 (page 426), 55 
(page 426), 104 (page 428), and, 
perhaps best known, 116 (page 
428). Songs from Shakespeare's 
plays (pp. 429-433) contain some of 
the loveliest lyrics in the language. 
Bible selections (text, pp. 520-547) 
are best-known to us. Therefore, it 
seems rather superfluous to name 
one passage above another, so per- 
sonal are many. 

4. The Puritan Interlude, 1625-1660 
(Text, vol. I, pp. 564-719) 

From the Death of James I to the 
Restoration of Charles II. 

The English peoples ever have 
been filled with fervor for right and 
truth and godliness. In Bunyan 
(page 705) and Milton (page 638) 
we have the two great voices of 
Puritanism. In majesty and poetic 
use of language Milton has been 
rivaled only by Shakespeare, while 
his personal intensity, his moral and 
spiritual integrity stand supreme. 
Milton the man and Milton the 
artist are inseparable. His one mag- 



nificent protest against the Cavalier 
and Roman artificialities, and bis 
ringing affirmation of man's neces- 
sary right to courage, moral, and 
spiritual strength, and unhampered 
freedom of the will— all these vir- 
tues set him apart and above from 
the lesser lights of English litera- 
ture. And for the epic brilliance of 
his poetry, read from Paradise Lost, 
Book I (page 650), at will. Again, 
Milton's ability to write poetry of 
beauty and music and great inner 
power can be displayed by reading 
from Samson Agonistes (page 676). 

5. The Neo-Classical Period, 1660- 
1784 (Text, vol. I, pp. 720-1131) 

The Neo-Classical movement 
arose as a reaction against both the 
laxness of Cavalier literary and mor- 
al standards, and the rigorous se- 
verities of the Puritans. It was an 
age of skepticism, order, reason. A 
classical symmetry pervaded litera- 
ture, music, architecture, and land- 
scape gardening. It was by this 
same ordering of nature by which 
the ancient Greek and Roman writ- 
ers had achieved their unrivaled ex- 
cellence in structure and form. Neo- 
Classical writers followed the clas- 
sical unities of time, place, and ac- 
tion, not in blind adherence to rule, 
but because they felt they must, 
since by following the ancients, they 
best followed nature and reason. 

Wit, reason, balance, restraint— 
these qualities predominate in the 
writings of Dryden (page 768), Ad- 
dison and Steel (page 885), Pope 
(page 973), Goldsmith (page 1023), 
Johnson (page 1043), and, in a les- 
ser degree but tinged with a more 
bitter satire, in Swift (page 910). 

Perhaps the fairest representative 

of this period is Alexander Pope, a 
brilliant craftsman and writer rath- 
er than a great one. For power 
over language, for skill in manipu- 
lating the metrical line to fit his 
needs, for music and wit and bril- 
liance and finish, read excerpts from 
Epistle II, "An Essay on Man" 
(page 999). If you desire some- 
thing of lesser intensity, read a pas- 
sage from Addison or Steele. 

This concludes excerpts from vol- 
ume I. 

6. The Romantic Period, 1760-1832 
(Text, vol. II, pp. 1-397) 

Just as the pendulum swung far 
to one side in Neo-Classicism as it 
opposed earlier patterns, so emerg- 
ing Romanticism swung just as far 
in the opposite direction in reaction 
against what it considered the ex- 
cesses of Neo-Classicism. The pre- 
vious period had been of the head; 
emerging Romanticism was of the 
heart, the emotions, the imagina- 
tion. While Neo-Classicism had 
been a sophisticated literary move- 
ment designed to appeal to the rich, 
noble, intellectual, and leisurely 
classes, Romanticism gave a body 
to the new forces of democracy: It 
believed passionately in the individ- 
ual, in freedom, in beauty, love, and 

The mature Romantic Move- 
ment began in the works of Wil- 
liam Wordsworth (page 118), and 
Samuel Taylor Coleridge (page 
163), but these two writers were 
prefaced and surrounded by a group 
of lesser Romantics: James Thom- 
son (page 32), William Collins 
(page 66), Thomas Gray (page 
46), William Cowper (page 73), 
Robert Burns (page 83), William 



Blake (page m), Charles Lamb 
(page 337), and William Hazlitt 
(page 360). The great Romantics, 
in addition to Wordsworth and Cole- 
ridge, were Sir Walter Scott (page 
190), Lord Byron (page 200), Per- 
cy Bysshe Shelley (page 248), and 
John Keats (page 273). To decide 
which one or which two should be 
read is about as difficult as choosing 
arbitrarily which star in the summer 
heavens is the brightest. Here, as 
throughout this review, the teacher 
is encouraged to choose that which 
is richest and best for her and her 
class. Likewise, I can name those 
I know and love best (which really 
proves nothing for others): Coler- 
idge's "Kubla Khan" (page 184), 
Byron's "She Walks in Beauty" 
(page 205), 'The Prisoner of Chil- 
lon" (page 207), "So We'll Go No 
More A-Roving" (page 224); Shel- 
ley's "Ozymandias" (page 253), 
"Ode to the West Wind" (page 
255), "To a Skylark" (page 258), 
"To Night" (page 261); Keats' "On 
First Looking into Chapman's 
Homer" (page 275), "Ode on a 
Grecian Urn" (page 281), "To Aut- 
umn" (page 291), "Bright Star! 
Would I Were Steadfast as Thou 
Art" (page 292). 

7. The Victorian Period, 1832-1880 

(Text, vol. II, pp. 399-839) 

During Victoria's reign England 
became "big business" in world-wide 
commerce and imperialism, and in 
manufacturing and scientific prog- 
ress at home. With the widespread 
use of power tools and engines to 
save labor and to shrink the globe 
like a wrinkled apple; with man's 
conquest of plague and pain, many 
idealistic Englishmen came to be- 

lieve that the perfection of the Ideal 
Man was to be attained here and 
now. Others saw the worship of 
success and wealth as a passion 
which seriously endangered the 
English spirit. As England became 
wealthier, at the same time some of 
her peoples became poorer; this 
contrast between extremes hurt. 
Likewise painful and confusing was 
the wavering between faith and 
doubt, which had been brought to 
an issue as new scientific thought 
conflicted with apostolic, traditional 
religious views. 

The great writers of this period 
dealt more nearly with the problems 
of our own day: Matthew Arnold 
(page 527), Tennyson, (page 593), 
Dickens (page 424), Macaulay (page 
427), the Brownings (pp. 655 and 
709), the Brontes, (Emily, page 
716), Thomas Carlyle (page 464), 
Ruskin (page 501), the Rossettis 
(pp. 783 and 748) . "The spirit mov- 
eth where it listeth," and likewise 
each teacher whose responsibility 
asks that she choose one representa- 
tive from this period can only select 
the one who speaks to her and her 
group most forcibly. 

8. The Break With Victorianism, 
1880-1914 (Text, vol. II, pp. 841- 

Fading Traditions and New 

In this period, even more near, 
the problems, hopes, and confu- 
sions of our own day, and many of 
the clashes of the Victorian Period 
are intensified; also there emerges 
the tendency to refuse entirely to 
acknowledge problems and to seek 
various avenues of escape. This age, 
like our own, contains within itself 



sample forces and philosophies and 
literary trends which represent al- 
most every value and trend in Eng- 
lish Literature since the Renais- 
sance. It is almost like counting 
off our own family as we list the 
period's voices: Victorian Humor- 
ists (pp. 826-839), George Eliot, 
Stevenson (pp. 874, 934), Synge 
(page 1002), Kipling (page 896), 
Housman (page 909), Masefield 
(page 927), Henley (page 863), and 
Hardy (page 918). Again, choose 
as you will, but to me Hardy's "In 
Time of The Breaking of Na- 
tions' ' (page 926), might be one 
possible choice. 

This "voyage into self-discovery" 

is now at an end. We have met 
ourselves in many mirrors, as we 
have seen our opposites. We have 
"weighed and considered" a great 
wealth of human wisdom and art 
and life. May this study now serve 
as provocation to further reading 
and growth, rather than an attained 
reward fulfilled at the present mo- 
ment. May you invite these men 
constantly into your homes and into 
your own hearts, to stimulate and 
challenge and exalt. After all "How 
can I learn save from him who is 
my friend?" In this re-examination 
and review may you have found 
many friends who sustain and chal- 
lenge your better self. 

Social Science — The Constitution 
of the United States 

Lesson 21— The Fruits of Freedom 
Elder Albeit R. Bowen 

For Tuesday, May 22, 1956 

Objective: To show that the growth and development of the United States were 
made possible and are the direct result of the institutions of freedom established by 
the Constitution. 

Love and Respect for Constitution 

"C^OR the past three years during 
which time the Constitution of 
the United States has been the sub- 
ject of study and discussion, the wis- 
dom of its framers has been referred 
to on many occasions. The great- 
ness of the document itself has been 
the subject of frequent comment, 
and we have also pointed out its 
sources, history, and the way in 
which it has worked as the frame- 

work of our Government. Above 
all else, we have lauded this great 
charter of our liberty as the guard- 
ian of freedom and the guarantor of 
justice to all having the good for- 
tune to live under its influence. We 
come now to the conclusion of this 
study, and it is hoped that there 
has been reaffirmed in the heart of 
every member of the Relief Society, 
a love and respect for the Constitu- 
tion, coupled with a deeper appre- 
ciation and understanding of its 



great and indispensable value to us, 
and our children, and our children's 

Love of country and patriotism is 
the common attitude of nearly all 
Americans, and this is especially 
true of Latter-day Saints. It was 
not supposed when this course of 
study was decided upon that the 
women of the Relief Society need- 
ed any serious urging to love of 
country and of our free institutions. 
All this was taken for granted. Inti- 
mate study and the refreshing of 
recollection of the things we were 
taught as children in school con- 
cerning the United States, must 
surely enhance and strengthen our 
patriotic sentiments and make us 
resolve to be better Americans, bet- 
ter citizens, and cause us to acknowl- 
edge the goodness of God in pro- 
viding for our progress and happi- 
ness a form of Government which 
no other people on earth have the 
good fortune to enjoy. 

Fruits of the Constitution 

Long ago it was pointed out that 
the test of a man, of a teaching, of 
an idea presented as a truth, can be 
judged by the actions of the man or 
the product of the idea or teaching. 
"By their fruits ye shall know 

What are the fruits of the Con- 
stitution? For one-hundred and 
sixty-seven years we in the United 
States have lived under it. By now 
it should be apparent whether it has 
produced a good fruit. We should 
be able, now, to judge if men are 
better off living under such a system 
of Government as it provides, or if 
there is a better system under which 
men can prosper more. We should 
judge if there is a better system un- 

der which men can realize, to a full- 
er extent, their legitimate hopes and 
aspirations and, while doing so, en- 
joy the freedom and liberty which 
is so essential and indispensable to 
happiness. We all of us know the 
answer. The Constitution of the 
United States is the greatest charter 
of Government ever devised in the 
history of mankind. 

In America we live under a sys- 
tem commonly called the 'Tree 
Enterprise System." We refer to 
our national life as the "American 
Way." What are the distinctive 
features of this system? 

Freedom oi Choice 

It is fundamental to the American 
system that men are entitled to free- 
dom of choice. Freedom to choose 
where to live, what occupation or 
calling to follow, for whom to work, 
whom to hire, and when. The re- 
sult of this freedom of choice has 
been the building of an economic 
system entirely unique and far more 
successful and productive than exists 
anywhere else on the face of the 

Right to Own Property 

Closely allied to freedom of 
choice under the American system, 
and equally as important, is that 
the right to own property is recog- 
nized and protected. What a man 
legitimately and lawfully acquires 
belongs to him. In spite of the 
fact that many feel rebellious at the 
tremendous sums which are si- 
phoned off by Government in the 
form of taxes, which have reached 
oppressive proportions, the right to 
own property is recognized and pro- 
tected. It was an absolute truth in 
years gone by and would be an 



absolute truth today, except for our 
deep involvement in terribly costly 
world politics. This situation is 
not the fault of the American sys- 
tem, but is partly the result of the 
dangerous times in which we live, 
and, in part, due to the pursuit of 
unwise policies which have made 
governmental expenditures need- 
lessly high. But after all of our 
complaints and dissatisfactions are 
voiced, we still, in the United 
States, control our private destinies 
and may use what is ours for any 
lawful purpose which we select. 

Free Rein to Private Enterprise 

The basic and fundamental phi- 
losophy of Government under the 
Constitution, even today with its 
many controls exercised over the 
economic life of the citizens, is to 
permit free rein to private initi- 
ative. Most Government controls 
over farmer, businessman, or indus- 
try have been brought about either 
to curb selfish and ruthless practices, 
or because of the selfish demands of 
special groups for special favor. Our 
national life would be healthier and 
more prosperous without such con- 
trols or special favors, but so long as 
there are those who refuse to live 
by the rules of conscience, part of 
our potential strength will be divert- 
ed into unproductive channels. 

Accomplishments Under the 
Free Enterprise System 

In spite of acknowledged faults 
and defects, what has free enterprise 
accomplished in America? 

One of the most dramatic, if not 
indeed the most dramatic illustra- 
tion of the effect of the free enter- 
prise system upon the United 

States, is seen in the awe-inspiring 
changes which have occurred in the 
economic conditions under which 
we live. Another and equally dra- 
matic illustration of this same effect 
is the manner in which the work of 
our country is done now contrasted 
with the way in which it was done 
at the beginning of our history. Dis- 
cussing the latter first, it is a fact 
that until the Civil War more than 
one half of the work energy required 
to accomplish this work was sup- 
plied by the muscle and brawn of 
men and animals. It has been esti- 
mated that by i960 less than two 
and one half per cent of this work 
energy will come from those sourc- 
es. In the meantime, the machine 
has taken over and, by the use and 
application of the energy supplied 
by coal, petroleum, and electricity, 
the work of our country is done in 
almost one half the time required 
at the beginning of the Civil War. 
The average work week then was 
about seventy hours; it is now forty- 
three. This change from the use of 
animal and human energy to ma- 
chines has made the United States 
an industrial giant, changing her 
from a rural agricultural Nation to 
the position of leading the remain- 
der of the world in output and pro- 

While this change to industrial- 
ization has occurred, the productiv- 
ity of the workman has continually 
gone up until today a worker in 
about one half the time produces 
about five times as much as the 
same workman was able to produce 
a hundred years ago. In 1850 the 
average worker produced about 
twenty-seven cents worth of goods 
per hour. He now produces one 



A Perry Picture — Copyright by Eugene A. Perry 


dollar and forty cents worth of 
goods per hour. 

Not only is this true but, in addi- 
tion, there has been a net increase 
in the output of goods and services 
which is twenty-nine times greater 
than it was in 1850. This has been 
done with the expenditure of much 
less time and with a population 
which has increased only six times 
in the same period. 

Improved Condition oi Worker 
in the United States 

Let us now consider for a mo- 
ment the effect all this change has 
had upon the worker. We have 
already mentioned the number of 
hours which he worked. By 1900 
the average work week was about 
sixty hours. It was six days a week, 
ten hours per day. In terms of 
wages it has been estimated that 
women workers probably did not 

average more than $280 per year. 
The wages of unskilled workers was 
about $400 per year. This figure 
has steadily risen so that now the 
average worker at constant dollar 
values earns twice as much as he 
did twenty-five years ago. Twenty- 
five years ago, two-thirds of Ameri- 
can families did not have sufficient 
to meet normal requirements for 
basic necessities. Now two-thirds of 
American families enjoy a surplus 
over and above such needs. The free 
enterprise system has enormously 
increased the wealth of America. 
New inventions and technologies 
have led to the creation of whole 
new industries. Let us take the 
automobile for an example. This in- 
vention is directly responsible for 
the growth of the rubber industry, 
the building of super-highways, the 
stimulus to the use of petroleum 



products, which is responsible for 
the oil and gas industry. This is 
only one example. This same pro- 
cess has been repeated countless 
times in other industries. 

Alleviation oi Need and Hunger 

Finally America has provided the 
laboratory demonstration of what 
can be accomplished to relieve hu- 
man suffering and need and has giv- 
en the emphatic denial to the 
theory of Malthus who postulated 
that the world is destined always to 
know hunger and privation; that 
population increase in any country 
will ever keep ahead of the ability 
of the world to supply its basic re- 
quirements of food and energy. This 
theory was propounded near the 
end of the eighteenth century and, 
based upon the past history of the 
world at that time, seemed conclu- 
sively true. The American system 
has demonstrated the seemingly 
paradoxical truth that by the appli- 
cation of modern technology, na- 
tions may increase their productivity 
far in excess of population increas- 

In all the history of the past, the 
vast majority of human beings have 
lived and died in poverty and slav- 
ery. It was not until the advent of 
America that this tragic trend in 
human existence was reversed. 

Material and Spiritual Progress 

As great and necessary as the vast 
changes and betterments in the eco- 
nomic sense undeniably are, there 
are even more important values 
which have accrued to us as Ameri- 
cans as a fruit of freedom under the 

The fruits of freedom have pro- 
duced in the United States, to the 

extent not known before, an atti- 
tude of mind and spirit which has 
added immeasureably to the value 
of the human personality. The great 
pronouncements of the Declaration 
of Independence and the Constitu- 
tion in recognition of human rights 
have been, in no small measure, re- 
sponsible for the growth of the 
United States. Lofty ideals and 
noble sentiments must inevitably 
produce their effect, if believed and 
practiced until they become a part 
of the society in which they find 
recognition and acceptance. Ideals 
of liberty and freedom may not 
have had their origin in this coun- 
try—but here they have taken deep 
root and have become strong and 

In this atmosphere the spirit of 
men has found nourishment. Men 
have been encouraged to dream 
great dreams and to accomplish— 
knowing that their efforts would 
not be destroyed nor thwarted by 
other men nor by a government un- 
friendly to individual initiative. 

Eight Reasons for Growth 
and Development 

In conclusion, the following eight 
reasons are submitted as controlling 
in the growth and development of 
America into the greatest Nation 
the world has ever known : 

i. Great natural resources 

2. A plentiful labor supply 

3. Surplus capital 

4. Great demand for manufactured 
goods and services encouraging and stimu- 
lating the growth of industry and busi- 

5. Labor-saving devices and machinery 

6. Cheap transportation 

7. Friendly Government, leaving eco- 
nomic development largely in private 




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8. The non-existence of tariffs and bar- 
riers to trade in a vast territory permit- 
ting the free movement of goods and 
trade from state to state. 

Of all the foregoing, by far the 
most important is number seven. 
Without that friendly Government, 
the other factors would never have 
had full scope and opportunity to 
affect the growth of the United 
States. The Constitution forms the 
background of that Government, 
and without it, it is inconceivable 
that the United States would ever 
have become what it is today. 

We all have a great stake in 
America. Our well-being and hap- 
piness and that of our children de- 
pend upon the preservation of her 
ideals and institutions. The United 
States can endure as long as her 
people retain those ideals and insti- 
tutions and so long as the people of 
the United States are imbued with 
moral sense and courage and live 
righteously the principles laid down 
as the conditions for her continued 

In Conclusion 

The fruits of freedom are con- 
crete and real. At the conclusion 
of this three-year study of the Con- 
stitution of the United States of 
America, every Relief Society wom- 
an should be keenly aware of the 
rights and privileges which the Con- 
stitution guarantees. She should 
have no doubt about it being a 
divinely inspired document, framed 
by wise men ". . . raised up unto 
this very purpose . . ." by the Lord 
(D. & C. 101:80). 

Every Relief Society member 
should be reverently grateful for the 
privilege of living where the bless- 
ings of freedom may be enjoyed 



daily and where she has the voting 
franchise so that she may use her 
influence in preserving these free- 
doms. Moreover, she should feel 
that she has a definite responsibility 
to assist in the safeguarding of the 
Constitution. She should demon- 
strate this feeling of responsibility 
by going to the polls on each elec- 
tion day to cast her individual vote. 
She should be aware of her oppor- 
tunity to further the cause of free- 
dom by speaking constructively of 
the Constitution, and should en- 
deavor to keep herself alert to, at 
least, the major issues confronting 
the Government. Last, but by no 
means least, she should avail her- 
self, as a Latter-day Saint mother, of 
every opportunity to instill in her 
children and maintain in her home, 
a love and respect for the Constitu- 
tion of the United States, and an 
appreciation for life in this choice 
and promised land. 

Questions on the Lesson 

i. What is the prevailing economic 
system in America? 

2. What does "free enterprise" or the 
"American Way" mean? 

3. Are property rights important? 

4. What is the attitude of Government 
in America towards private initiative? Is 
this the correct attitude? Why? 

5. What has been the effect of the 
"free enterprise system" in the United 
States? Upon the individual? Upon the 
creation of a strong Nation? 

6. In what other country prior to the 
Constitution were conditions comparable 
to the United States since the Constitu- 
tion was adopted? 

7. What has been the most important 
result of freedom under the Constitution? 

8. Name the factors which have made 
the United States the greatest Nation the 
world has ever seen? 

9. Which has been the most impor- 

2nd Annual L.D.S. 



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MAY 3, 1956 





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Page 144 

Good Readin: 

for Mid- Winter 

The Ten Commandments Today 


The fundamental truths laid down at Mt. Sinai are discussed 
in their relationship to the atomic world of today by seven 
members of the Council of the Twelve ; Joseph Fielding Smith, 
Harold B. Lee, Spencer W. Kimball, Mark E. Petersen, LeGrand 
Richards, Adam S. Bennion, and Richard L. Evans ; by Super- 
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Youth, Love and Marriage 


Dr. Rex A. Skidmore 

This book, written by a great leader of youth, gives expert 
counsel to youth on dating, making friendships, on courtship, 
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interesting style. 


Commentary on The Book of 
Mormon — Volume I 

3. George Reynolds and Janne M. Sjodahl 

This new book is an outstanding commentary on the Book of 
Mormon from I Nephi to Omni. It serves as an excellent guide 
and stimulates renewed enthusiasm for scriptural reading. 


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"... ■■■'. . .. .'-. 

MARCH 1956 

■ - 






Jane B. Wundeilich 

Like the gentle gift of shade where strong trees grow, 

Whose pliant green deflects gold-pinioned heat, 

Whose branching promise beckons dusty feet, 

And punctuates their wayworn come and go; 

Or, like the firelight's all-inclusive glow, 

Whose welcome conquers wind-wild cold and sleet, 

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Spilling fragrance everywhere — unbidden. 

The Cover: Parana Pines, Brazil, Photograph by Asael T. Sorensen 

Frontispiece: Lonely Vista in Craters of the Moon National Monument, Idaho 
Photograph by Willard Luce 

Cover Design by Evan Jensen 

Page 145 

Qjrom I Lear and cjc 


As the year is soon coming to a close, 
I want to thank yon for the lovely Maga- 
zine for 1955, with a wish for continued 
success in 1956. 

— Margaret A. Anderson 

Richmond, Utah 

I have found so much enjoyment in 
The Relief Society Magazine every month 
since I have been receiving it. I read it 
from cover to cover, and I am so thank- 
ful to my good daughter-in-law, Mrs. 
Laura Huffman, El Paso, Texas, for send- 
ing it to me for my birthday. 

— Mrs. Alva Huffman 

Hotchkiss, Colorado 

Although the Magazine is a woman's 
book, I wish to congratulate you on its 
splendid contents. Whenever I have a 
spare moment and there is a Relief Society 
Magazine near, I relax and read it and 
enjoy the wonderful stories. I have never 
been disappointed in them. 
-Elder J. Elliott 

St. Michaels, Arizona 

I wish to express my appreciation for 
The Relief Society Magazine. We have 
enjoyed reading it each month from cover 
to cover. When I read the From Near 
and Far messages, it is very interesting to 
know what the Magazine means to every- 
one. It is a Magazine with perfect read- 
ing material for every L. D. S. family, and 
for all non-members, as well. The Maga- 
zine has been a long-time reading com- 
panion in my home, as I joined the Re- 
lief Society about 1930. I have enjoyed 
the faith-promoting stories, the inspiring 
editorials, and the lessons have been an 
everyday education in rearing my children. 
-Ruth Marriott 

Roberts, Idaho 

I do enjoy the Magazine very much — 
the stories, poems, and lesson material. 
Sometimes it seems that the Magazine is 
a direct answer to my problems. It gives 
me so much to think about when I am 
doing the housework or driving the trac- 

-Mrs. Mildred Jensen Johnson 

Rexburg, Idaho 
Page 146 

We three (Mrs. Joan Cannon, Mrs. 
Mary Glidwell, and Mrs. Lillie Newton) 
are the membership of our Relief Society. 
We have our lesson each Tuesday, and 
occasionally we enjoy a visitor. We en- 
joy such a sweet spirit in our meetings. 
Sister Cannon has been a member of the 
Church about ten years, and my sister 
and I have been members thirteen and 
a half months. We hope this year, 
through our welfare work, to inspire an 
interest in Relief Society, as well as giv- 
ing us a chance to tell people about the 
Church. Thank you for such a wonder- 
ful inspirational Magazine. 

— Mrs. Lillie Newton 

Milan, Missouri 

The response we receive to the Maga- 
zine is tremendous. I just received a let- 
ter from the Rio Cuarto Relief Society 
requesting a copy each month, because 
they are sure that one of the sisters reads 
enough English so that she can translate 
the contents for the other sisters. We re- 
ceive enough copies each month so that 
we can distribute them throughout the 
mission, and the sisters enjoy them very 
much. During every visit I make some- 
one is sure to comment on something she 
has read in the Magazine. 

— Amy Y. Valentine 


Argentine Mission 
Relief Society 
Buenos Aires, Argentina 

I have been taking The Relief Society 
Magazine for about a year and a half and 
do enjoy it very much. I can't get to 
Relief Society meetings, as I have to 
work, but I can keep up with the lessons 
and feel more a part of it through the 

— Margaret Kearney 

Idaho Falls, Idaho 

The Relief Society Magazine brings 
much joy into our home each month. I 
feel it is the means by which hundreds of 
women throughout the Church can give 
expression to their thoughts and talents. 
—Ruth W. Heiner 

Heyburn, Idaho 


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 

Anna B. Hart Leone O. Jacobs Mildred B. Eyring Winniefred S. 

Edith S. Elliott Louise W. Madsen Helen W. Anderson Manwaring 

Florence J. Madsen Aleine M. Young Gladys S. Boyer Elna P. Haymond 

Leone G. Layton Josie B. Bay Charlotte A. Larsen Annie M. Ellsworth 

Blanche B. Stoddard Christine H. Robinson Edith P. Backman Mary R. Young 

Evon W. Peterson Alberta H. Christensen 

Editor - - - - - - - - - . - -- Marianne C. Sharp 

Associate Editor --------- Vesta P. Crawford 

General Manager .-.- Belle S. Spafford 

Vol. 43 MARCH 1956 No. 3 


on tents 


"Words to Live By" Josie B. Bay 148 

The Brazilian Mission Preston R. Nibley 158 

How We Conduct the Family Hour in Our Home Helen S. Gardner 160 

Getting New Subscriptions and Renewals for The Relief Society Magazine Lucy Horman 167 

Strange Land of the Chiricahuas Nell Murbarger 180 

The Preparation and Serving of Food for Large Gatherings Frank D. Arnold 183 

Put on Your Gay Sunbonnet Jennie E. Graham 206 

The Home on the Hill Alyce O. Nelson 208 


Room for Nancy— Third Prize Story Edith Larson 151 

The Ice-Cream Pie Florence B. Dunford 163 

There Is Still Time— Chapter 2 Margery S. Stewart 195 


From Near and Far 146 

Sixty Years Ago 1-7Q 

Woman's Sphere Ramona W. Cannon 171 

Editorial: The Constitution of Relief Society Marianne C. Sharp 172 

In Memoriam — Charlotte Owens Sackett 174 

Notes to the Field: Organizations and Reorganizations of Stake and Mission 

Relief Societies for 1955 174 

Index for 1955 Relief Society Magazine Available 176 

Announcing the Special April Short Story Issue 176 

Notes From the Field: Relief Society Activities Margaret C. Pickering 200 


Springtime Is Fun-Time Helen B. Morris 177 

Recipes From Brazil Asael T. Sorensen 178 

Life Is Like a Pattern Annie S. W. Gould 179 

Let's Have Fish Winnifred C. Jardine 186 

The Rugged Rug Hookers Geneve Hourihan 190 

Garden Accents Elizabeth Williamson 192 

Multiple Hobbies Help Mary Hilda Smith to Make Others Happy 194 


Kindness— Frontispiece Jane B. Wunderlich 145 

Contemplation Evelyn Fjeldsted 150 

Cryptic Tokens Eva W. Wangsgaard 157 

Desert Yearnings Annie Atkin Tanner 162 

Temple Square Leone E. McCune 173 

Comforter Catherine B. Bowles 179 

First Herald Linnie F. Robinson 182 

Honeymoon Salad Francelia Goddard 185 

Where Sweets Are Maryhale Woolsey 194 

Comfort Ida Isaacson 205 

Return Christie Lund Coles 207 

Helping Hands Delia Adams Leitner 207 


Editorial and Business Offices: 40 North Main, Salt Lake City 1, Utah, Phone EM 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. 

Page 147 

"Words to Live By" 

Josie B. Bay 
Member, General Board of Relief Society 

[Address Delivered at the Annual General Relief Society Conference, 

September 29, 1955] 

MANY times I have sat in the 
congregation in this build- 
ing and listened to speak- 
ers from this pulpit, and many times 
I have thought, what a wonderful 
privilege to be called to speak in 
this great Tabernacle— never dream- 
ing that such an experience would 
ever come to me. Now that the 
call has come, I stand before you 
greatly humbled, very frightened, 
but with great appreciation in my 
heart for the blessings of the Lord 
unto me. 

From this pulpit I have heard 
expressed: words of wisdom; words 
of comfort; words of caution; words 
of truth and inspiration; beautiful 
words to live by; words which have 
greatly influenced my life, spoken 
by good and wise men and women 
whom the Lord has called to direct 
us. From their remembered teach- 
ings I am caused to reflect, how 
great is the power of words in the 
lives of persons everywhere! Anna 
Hempstead Branch said: 

God wove a web of loveliness, 
Of clouds, stars, and birds, 

But made not anything at all 
So beautiful as words. 

The beauty and wisdom expressed 
in the words of the prophets, spoken 
from this pulpit or published for 
our reading pleasure, if applied, will 
not only bring happiness into our 
lives, but will give us strength to 
meet the obstacles we encounter. 

Page 148 

To find happiness seems to be 
the paramount object in this life; 
everyone is seeking for it. A prophet 
of the Lord, President Heber }. 
Grant, in one of his written mes- 
sages tells us how to achieve happi- 
ness. These are his words: 

The real secret of happiness in life and 
the way in which to prepare ourselves for 
the hereafter is service .... 

Service is the true key, I believe, to 
happiness .... When we perform any 
acts of kindness, they bring a feeling of 
satisfaction and pleasure into our 
hearts .... 

It is a God-given law that in proportion 
to the service we give . . . we shall grow 
in the grace of God and in the love of 
God, and we shall grow in accomplishing 
the purposes of our being placed here on 
the earth (Gospel Standards, Heber J. 
Grant, pp. 186-87). 

How well have we remembered 
and applied in our lives the words 
of President George Albert Smith 
in his conference address, October 
1, 1948: 

There isn't anything that enriches our 
lives like an understanding of the pur- 
poses of life and the ability to live the 
gospel of Jesus Christ. All happiness 
worthy of the name comes to us when we 
observe the teachings of our Lord and 
live to be worthy to be his sons and 
daughters .... 

I want to say that the happiest people 
in all the world are those who obey the 
counsel of our Heavenly Father. 

How happy our lives will be if we 
listen to and live by the words of 



the present-day prophet, President 
David O. McKay. These are but 
a few of his many inspirational 
words spoken for our guidance: 

Choosing the right with unvarying and 
unwavering determination, resisting temp- 
tations from within and from without, 
cheerfulness in the face of difficulties and 
experiences, reverence for God and re- 
spect for your fellow men, willingness to 
assist in the establishment of the kingdom 
of God — these, though you might miss 
some of the emoluments of the world, will, 
bring peace and happiness to your soul, 
and through obedience to the principles 
and ordinances of the gospel, bring im- 
mortality and eternal life (Gospel Ideals, 
David O. McKay, page 491). 

What strength there is in the 
words of the prophets, living words 
which give to us inspiration, cour- 
age, and confidence. Words that 
awaken within us a desire to live a 
better life; to extend a helping hand 
to those in need and to serve the 
Lord through keeping his com- 

Unlimited is the inspirational 
power of the words of the Scrip- 
tures; they are creative and dynamic 
words which can change the life of 
everyone who reads them and Jives 
by them. 

Comforting indeed are the words 
of the Savior, recorded in Matthew: 

Come unto me, all ye that labour and 
are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 

Take my yoke upon you, and learn of 
me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and 
ye shall find rest unto your souls. 

For my yoke is easy, and my burden is 
light (Mt. 11:28-30). 

Brother Bryant S. Hinckley has 

These words have solaced the troubled 
hearts of the world and given hope and 
cheer to those who are heavy laden as no 

other words ever have done. They carry 
the spirit and beauty of the glorious mes- 
sage of the Redeemer of the world (Not 
By Bread Alone, Bryant S. Hinckley, page 


The words of the Scriptures are 
so valuable in our lives, let us read 
them, study them, and live by them. 

Valuable, too, in building a hap- 
py life are the words of the great 
writers and poets — men and wom- 
en who through words express the 
beauty and worthwhileness of life. 
Never shall I forget the words of 
Thomas Carlyle. Words taught to 
me when just a child. These words 
have stayed with me all my life and 
many times with the beginning of 
a new day I find them running 
through my mind: 

So here hath been dawning 

Another blue Day: 
Think, wilt thou let it 

Slip useless away? 

Out of Eternity 

This new Day is born. 
Into Eternity, 

At night, will return. 

Behold it afore time 

No eye ever did: 
So soon it forever 

From all eyes is hid. 

Here hath been dawning 

Another blue Day: 
Think, wilt thou let it 

Slip useless away? 

These words help us to realize 
more fully the value of time and 
the need to make the most of each 
precious moment. It was Benjamin 
Franklin who said: 

Dost thou love life? Then do not 
squander time for that is the stuff life is 
made of. 

In closing, may I remind you of 


the words of Alma, words which we 
have all read and loved when read- 
ing The Book of Mormon. Truly 
words to live by: 

And now I would that ye should be 
humble, and be submissive and gentle; 
easy to be entreated; full of patience and 
long-suffering; being temperate in all 
things; being diligent in keeping the com- 
mandments of God at all times; asking 
for whatsoever things ye stand in need, 


both spiritual and temporal; always return- 
ing 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 7:23-24). 

May the Lord grant unto us 
strength to live by his word, and 
may there be reflected in us the 
beauty and truth which we gain by 
applying all things good into our 


Evelyn Fjeldsted 

How good life seems to be — how swift 

Is measured time when one must leave 

The things one cares so deeply for. 

How quietly the hours weave 

The warp and weft of earthly scenes — 

Memories, renditions of the past; 

And swifter than the weaver's shuttle were 

The endless dramas that were cast. 

How strangely old familiar paths 

Loom in silent unreality, 

How kindly is the night's intent 

To hide a sorrow's clarity. 

In earth's harbor one would ever stay 

Where thought is anchored to the known. 

Like ships adrift, those who embark 

Must sail the unexplored alone. 

But once to live, is this not proof 

That everything — that even hope 

Can live again? Believing this, 

One sees beyond the present scope. 

A new life is revealed when seas are crossed 

And reassurance brings repose. 

The stillness of the deepening night 

Brings contemplation to a close, 

And this is gained — this new-found thought- 

That death may give what life could not. 

cJhtrd crrtze Story 

Jtnnual IRelief Society Snort Story (contest 

Room for Nancy 

Edith Larson 

ADDING her "Amen" to the 
others, Mary raised her head 
and looked around the break- 
fast table. Usually it warmed her 
heart to see her family together. 

Richard, with graying hair mak- 
ing him more distinguished looking 
than ever, was turning his attention 
to his bacon and eggs. Susan was 
dressed for her office job, and the 
twins Joy and Jay wore the garb of 
the high school crowd. Seven-year- 
old Dickie was scrubbed and shin- 
ing as far as his ears, but his hair 
stood on. end, bed-tousled, and his 
neck and arms still bore the dirt of 
last night's play. 

Only Nancy was missing, and she 
might arrive with baby Larry any 
minute now. Arrive, expecting a 
welcome that wasn't there. Mary's 
heart twisted at the thought. 

"Have you moved your things 
back into Joy's room?" she asked 

"Yes, Mother," Susan answered 
without raising her eyes. 

Mary suppressed a sigh. It was 
only natural that Susan should be 
reluctant to give up the room that 
had been hers for just one short 

"My room?" Joy exclaimed, mak- 
ing no effort to hide her bitterness. 
"When Susan and I bunked to- 
gether before, it was Susan's room." 

"This is only temporary, dear," 
Mary assured her. 

.■:■■-■:■•: ■-.; -■:■■■■ 


"Two years doesn't sound very 
temporary to me," Joy muttered. 

"Joy, that will do," her father 
said in the tone all of the children 

Yet Mary knew that even he was 
not happy about Nancy's return. 
He would welcome her, of course; 
but just last night, in the privacy 
of their bedroom, he had spoken 
wistfully of that extra bedroom they 
had never been able to afford. And 
he had mentioned Nancy's scornful 
attitude toward young couples who 
went home to the folks at the first 
crisis in their marriage. 

Mary had pointed out to Richard 
that this was hardly the type of 

Page 151 



crisis Nancy had meant. Her hus- 
band Lowell was going on a mis- 
sion. Both families wanted him to 
go, but it would be impractical to 
finance him and keep up a separate 
home for Nancy and the baby. Hav- 
ing Nancy rent their little house 
and bring the baby home was the 
obvious solution. 

It had seemed such a natural so- 
lution to Mary that she still could 
not understand the attitude of the 
other children. How would Nancy 
feel when she sensed their reluc- 
tance to make room for her? Sensi- 
tive Nancy, who was so quick to 
freeze up on the inside at the least 

Inwardly Mary was seething— and 
hurt. How little one actually knew 
one's own children! She had always 
believed that she was rearing hers 
to face facts and make right de- 
cisions. Where had she failed? 

'Two years is a lifetime/' Susan 
dropped into the silence. 

Poor Susan, thought Mary. She 
had more excuse than the others. 
Since Bert had convinced her that 
they should wait until his Navy en- 
listment was over before being mar- 
ried, time had stood still for Susan. 
Having Nancy here with her baby 
would make waiting all the harder. 
Susan's hunger for children of her 
own was a constant ache in Mary's 
heart, but still she wished that 
Susan could see Nancy's problem as 
clearly as her own. 

"UAVING Nancy here with the 
baby will make the time go 
faster for you," Richard suggested. 

"Oh, I'm sure it will be nice to 
have Nancy home, but I'm not 
looking forward to seeing her en- 

joy a baby when I can't have one 

"Who's going to enjoy a little 
monster?" Dickie asked. 

"Dickie!" exclaimed his mother. 
"Your little nephew Larry is not 
a monster, and I don't want to hear 
you call him that again." 

"All babies are monsters," Dickie 

"Where did you get that idea, 
son?" Richard asked. 

"That's what Billy calls their baby 
all the time. And he's disgusted 
because his mother is going to have 
another little monster almost any 
day now." Dickie paused in his 
task of spooning oatmeal just long 
enough to explode this bombshell. 

Mary and Richard exchanged 
glances. When a non-Church fam- 
ily from the East moved in next 
door, they had encouraged Dickie 
to be friendly with the little boy 
his age. Now they often wondered 
if Dickie's training was secure 
enough to withstand the influence 
Billy seemed to have on his think- 

"Don't let Nancy hear you talk 
like that, Dickie," Mary warned. 
"Besides, you'll change your mind 
when you see Larry." 

Though she spoke confidently, 
Mary wondered. Dickie had been 
the baby so long. How would he 
react when another little boy be- 
came the center of attention? 

"It's hard enough for me to con- 
centrate when all that wailing gets 
started next door," Jay put in, "with- 
out having it on both sides of me." 
Oh, Jay, Mary thought, not you, 
too. I was so sure I could depend 
on my quiet, studious one, at least. 
"Nancy wrote that Larry is teeth- 



ing, so you can depend on plenty 
of sound effects/' Joy assured him. 

"Oh, I'm counting on it with the 
greatest of joy. If a few minor wails 
creep into my chemical formulas, 
I'm sure Mr. Chapman will under- 

Mr. Chapman had taught enough 
years to understand almost anything, 
Mary knew. She wondered if he 
could help her understand the 
heavy sarcasm Jay considered a 
necessary form of speech. He had 
never used it before he started run- 
ning around with the pre-engineer- 
ing crowd. 

"Your mother and I put up with 
enough wailing from you, son," 
Richard told him. "I guess it won't 
hurt you to hear a little from Lar- 

"Yfoohoo! Are y ou ^iU at break- 
1 fast?" 

"Nancy!" Mary was on her feet 
and started toward the door when 
Nancy herself appeared with Larry 
on her arm. 

"Hi, family. You sure look good. 
Anything left to eat?" 

She was the same old Nancy, but 
oh, so thin and tired-looking be- 
hind the smile. Mary took the 
baby, while Susan and Joy hurried 
to set a place for the newcomer. 

"We rather looked for you last 
night," Richard told his oldest 
daughter. "In fact, your mother 
worried a bit." 

"I'm sorry. As you can see by 
my early arrival, I wasn't too far 
away. But I just didn't have what 
it takes to drive the rest of the way 
last night. If it won't put you out 
too much, I'd like to stay and rest 
up a bit before going on." 

"Before going on!" The entire 
family joined in the exclamation. 

Nancy looked around the table. 
"Didn't you understand? You sure- 
ly didn't think I meant to come 
here, did you? But that would 
crowd Susan out of her room. And 
Mother is so busy." 

"Then where are you going?" 
Richard voiced the question on the 
tip of every tongue. 

"Down to Newton, to Lowell's 
folks. Mother, didn't I write you 
that Lowell thought I ought to go 
home to the folks?" 

"Yes, of course you did. I just 
can't get used to the idea that one 
of my children has two sets of 
folks. I took it for granted you 
meant to come here." 

Tears glistened in Nancy's eyes. 
"And you've shifted around and 
tried to make room for us! I know 
you have! Oh, you dear, darling 
people, you don't know how I love 

"The shifting is all done, Nancy. 
You and Larry are welcome to stay 
here." But jt was only Richard who 
spoke the right words. 

Mary looked around at the faces 
of her children and in none could 
she find an endorsement of Rich- 
ard's invitation. She was glad Nan- 
cy's sight was blurred by tears. 

"I know we are welcome, Dad, 
but going to Lowell's folks is really 
more practical. His father and 
mother are alone in that big house. 
There will be plenty of room so 
that Larry and I can keep out from 
underfoot. He's teething and he 
really gets cross sometimes. He 
would disturb everyone here." 

"But you are staying a few days, 
aren't you?" Susan asked as she 



pushed back her chair. "I must be 
off to work or I'll be late, but I 
want to be sure you'll still be here 
when I get home tonight." 

"We'll be here/' Nancy assured 

The next half hour was full of 
the usual bustle of getting the fam- 
ily off to work and school. Then 
there was Larry to bathe and put to 
bed for his morning nap. Mother 
and daughter worked together, hap- 
py in each other's company. But 
when the baby finally fell asleep, 
Mary insisted that Nancy just sit. 

'These are the only dishes I ever 
do myself and I'm used to doing 
them alone. Besides, you look all in, 
dear. I'd worry more about your 
helping than your help is worth." 

'M'ANCY sank gratefully onto the 
cushions in the breakfast nook. 
"I am tired," she admitted. "Larry 
kept me awake most of the night." 

"I'm surprised that Lowell let you 
drive through with the baby. Four 
hundred miles! It's too much for 
a young girl." 

Nancy smiled. "This is once you 
can't blame Lowell, Mother. You 
will have to blame your pig-headed 
daughter. He didn't want me to 
drive home, but it was the only way 
I could have the car. Somehow, 
just having the car makes me feel 
less tied down." 

"At least you can get up here 
often. It's only forty miles. That 
will be a lot closer than you have 

"That's what I thought, too, 
Mother. It's— it's the only thought 
that makes living with Lowell's 
folks bearable." 


"I don't mean that as a criticism 

of his father and mother. They've 
always been very good to me, and 
they really want me to stay there. 
But, oh, Mother — just think! 
They've never had a baby in the 
house since Lowell himself was lit- 
tle. It's always so quiet there. Not 
a bit like home." 

"I understand." Mary turned 
abruptly to her dishes. If she took 
one more look at Nancy's tear- 
brimmed eyes she would do what 
she knew she must not do. She 
would take matters into her own 
hands regardless of how the other 
children felt. 

But did she have the right, since 
there really was a more convenient 
place for Nancy to stay? And be- 
sides, would Nancy herself remain 
when she found out how her broth- 
ers and sisters felt? No, it was bet- 
ter to leave well enough alone. But 
it hurt. 

"There's just one thing, Mother. 
You remember how I always said 
I'd never bring my children home 
for grandma to take care of. Well, 
I guess I'm going to have to take 
it back. I'd feel better about Larry, 
if you took him while I'm in the 


"Don't look at me so frightened, 
Mother. I thought you might have 
guessed why we gave up our house. 
Lowell has worried ever since we 
were sure Larry would be having a 
little brother or sister while his dad- 
dy was on his mission. He gave 
me no rest until I promised to stay 
with the folks, At least, I will be 
fully occupied while he is away. I 
won't have time to miss him so 

By the time Nancy finished 



speaking, Mary had recovered from 
her shock. She crossed the kitchen 
hurriedly to draw her eldest into 
her arms. Only then did Nancy 
break down, revealing by her heart- 
breaking sobs the fear and loneliness 
to which her words so bravely gave 
the lie. 

Mary held her daughter to her 
tightly and struggled with herself. 
Surely she had the right to keep 
Nancy here where she belonged! 
Here, surrounded by her happy, 
noisy family she would have no 
fear and, perhaps, she would lose 
some of her loneliness. 

But would she want to stay? 
When she found out that her wel- 
come was not wholehearted, how 
would she feel toward her brothers 
and sisters? 

TN the end, Mary kept still. Yet, 
throughout the day, the desire to 
speak grew stronger as she saw how 
difficult it was for Nancy to handle 
fretful little Larry in her present 
condition. There were so many 
ways in which Mary knew she could 
ease Nancy's burden, without open- 
ly intruding on her independence. 
Would Lowell's mother see them 
and make use of them? Probably 
not. She hardly knew Nancy well 
enough to see past that self-suffi- 
cient exterior. 

During the afternoon Mary had 
a little time to herself. Larry was 
again sleeping fitfully and Nancy 
had finally dropped off to sleep, too. 
Mary used the time to try to reach 
a decision. Should she try to in- 
fluence the children or not? To do 
so was against all her beliefs. She 
had taught so earnestly that a child 
who has been brought up under the 

right ideals can and should be trust- 
ed to make his own decisions. 

Again and again she asked her- 
self the same question: Where have 
I failed that my children cannot see 
Nancy's great need as clearly as I 
can? If they cannot see for them- 
selves that Nancy and Larry are 
our responsibility, what could I say 
that would open their eyes? 

Silently she prayed that she might 
have the patience to force no un- 
willing decisions. 

"Asleep, Mother?" It was Jay at 
her door asking softly in order not 
to waken her if she were asleep. At 
her response, he came and sat 
awkwardly on the side of the bed. 
"Joy stayed for hockey practice, 
Mom, but we had a little talk at 
noon. We wondered if we weren't 
being selfish. It would mean a lot 
to Nancy to be home here with you. 
Don't you think she ought to stay 

"Yes, I do, son. But what about 
your studying?" 

"I was just talking to hear myself, 
I guess. Lots of the fellows beef 
about noise when they want to 
study, but honestly, when I start 
to concentrate, the house could fall 
down and I'd never hear it." 

Mary smiled. "You certainly nev- 
er hear me when I call you. But 
what about Joy? She has been so 
happy having a room to herself." 

"Well, I have to share my room 
with Dickie. This way we'll be on 
even terms again. She wants it that 
way, honestly, Mom." 

"Susan is the one most affected," 
Mary reminded him. "Quite apart 
from giving up her room, she 
wouldn't find it easy to watch 
Nancy with little Larry, knowing 



that it will be another three years 
before she can think of having chil- 
dren of her own." 

"I know, but Joy and I wanted 
you to know how we feel. It just 
doesn't seem right for Nancy to 
give up Lowell for two years and 
not have her family try to take his 

"I'm glad you feel that way, son. 
We'll see." 

A whoop from downstairs brought 
Mary to her feet in a hurry. "Dickie 
will wake Larry and Nancy," she 
called back as she hurried out of 
the room. 

CURE enough, Larry was awake, 
but Nancy still slept the sleep 
of exhaustion. Mary quietly picked 
the baby up and went downstairs. 
Dickie lay on the floor watching 

"Here you are, Dickie," she said 
pleasantly, setting Larry on the 
floor beside him. "You woke him 
up, so you get to take care of him. 
I have to start dinner. Try to be 
quiet. Nancy is having a much- 
needed nap." 

She almost relented at the dis- 
mayed look Dickie gave her, but her 
choice was between Jay who was 
undoubtedly studying by this time, 
and Dickie who never had any 
home work. 

She went to the kitchen and 
forced her attention to the task at 
hand. She felt much better since 
talking to Jay. Outside influences 
were at work on him, but they were 
not undermining the training he 
had received at home, as she had 

But Susan's problem was differ- 
ent. Mary's heart had been wrung 

over and over again as she was 
forced to stand by and watch Susan 
struggle with the loneliness and 
frustration of her long separation. 

Dinner was almost ready when 
she heard Richard and Susan come 
in. Richard joined Dickie and the 
baby in the living room, but Mary 
heard Susan go upstairs. 


Mary turned. It was Susan — a 
frowning, worried Susan standing in 
the doorway. "Mother, would you 
very much mind if I asked Nancy 
to stay here and share a room with 

"Mind?" No, I'd be happy to 
have her. But you . . . ." 

"Oh, Mother, I'm so glad. I'm 
sure she will stay if you ask her, 
too. I've been worried sick all day. 
She looks so ill, but I kept think- 
ing how much work it would mean 
for you. I'll help all I can, but 
you're the one who will have the 
real burden and you do so much for 
all of us already." 

"Having Nancy here would never 
seem like a burden." 

"Having Nancy here would be 
heaven for me, Mother. I get so 
lonely even with my nice family for 
moral support. And I know Nancy 
is going to feel the same way. It 
may be a comfort to her for us to 
be lonely together." 

"Mom! Mom!" Dickie's shrill cry 
brought everyone running. Richard 
sat on the davenport smiling at his 
youngest son and only grandchild 
on the floor in front of the forgot- 
ten television. 

"Mom! Nancy! Everybody, look! 
I'm teaching Larry how to walk. 
Come on, monster. Come to 



Carefully Dickie set the baby on 
his feet, then backed away a step 
to crouch with outstretched arms. 
Grinning happily, little Larry 
reached out a pudgy hand. When 
it didn't quite reach far enough, he 
took a tentative step and promptly 
fell face forward into Dickie's arms. 

"See, Mom," Dickie cried, look- 
ing as always to Mother for approv- 
al. "Isn't he the smartest little 
monster ever?" 

"Dickie, you'd better watch out," 
Nancy spoke from behind Mary. 
"If you encourage him enough, you 

might get stuck with a baby-sitting 

"I wouldn't mind. That old Billy 
can just hush his bragging now we 
have a little monster of our own," 
and Dickie snuggled the blond little 
head closer to him. 

As Mary turned back to the 
kitchen, she offered a little prayer 
of thanks. Hers was such a won- 
derful family. Surely, among them, 
they would be able to convince 
Nancy she belonged at home. When 
she realized how much Susan need- 
ed her, Nancy would stay. 

Edith Larson, Manton, Michigan, has already been represented in The 
Relief Society Magazine by a pioneer story "Strength" published in the July 
1955 issue. Her story "Room for Nancy" marks her first appearance as a win- 
ner in the Annual Relief Society Short Story Contest. Altogether, Mrs. Lar- 
son has had six short stories, three plays, an article, and a poem published, 
most of them in national magazines. 

She is a graduate of Northwestern University, where she majored in the 
writing arts. The health of an only daughter sent the family West in 1948. 
In Fountain Green, Utah, mother and daughter were converted to The Church 
of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. At present they hold membership in 
the Traverse City, Michigan, Branch, a part of the Great Lakes Mission. 

She writes: ''The Relief Society Magazine means a great deal to me, 
especially since the Traverse City Branch is forty miles away from my home, 
and Relief Society meetings there are held at a time when I cannot attend. 
I hope that this will not always be true, for I do miss the meetings very much. 
However, I have found the Magazine a wonderful way to keep in touch with 
the organization, and I look forward eagerly to each issue." 

(^rt/pttc cJokens 

Eva W. Wangsgaard 

I never turn a living garden clod 

But something from the past is turned as well. 

A broken dish, a bucket bail, can prod 

A host of questions on the tale they tell. 

Who was the woman who once called this home? 

What was her cottage like? — the one they razed 

In making room for mine. Within the loam 

She left me many tokens cryptic-phrased. 

I see her in the iron kettle turned 

From her old well, the stones that formed its brim, 

The goad her husband used when oxen churned 

The trail's fine dust. She lingers, young and slim, 

Beside the gate whose rusty hinge lies bent 

Upon my spade. So still! So eloquent! 

cJhe [Brazilian //Li. 


Preston R. Nibley 

]y/f ISSIONARY work for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints 
began in Brazil in December 1927, when President Reinhold Stoof 
and Elder Waldo Stoddard of the South American Mission, with head- 
quarters in Buenos Aires, journeyed northward to Brazil, "to investigate 
conditions for missionary work among the German colonies'' in that coun- 
try. The results of their investigation were favorable and, in September 
1928, Elders William Heinz and Emil Schindler sailed from Buenos Aires 
to Joinville, Brazil, to labor among German-speaking people. 

Two months after their arrival they were holding "regular meetings, 
Sunday Schools and Bible classes." The first baptisms in Brazil took place 
on April 14, 1929, when Mrs. Bertha Sell and her children, Theodore, Alice, 
Siegfried, and Adele were baptized and confirmed at Joinville. A branch 
of the Church was organized in the same city on July 6, 1930. 

Asael T. Sorensen 


Page 158 




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Ewing Galloway 


View from Pao Asucar (the Sugar Loaf), showing the city to the base of 

Corcovado Mountain. 

A mission was established in Brazil by the First Presidency in Feb- 
ruary 1935, and Elder Rulon Howells of Salt Lake City was chosen as the 
president. On his arrival he established headquarters in the city of Sao 
Paulo. Prior to that time no missionary work had been carried on among 
the native Brazilian people. 

President Howells presided until October 1938, when he was suc- 
ceeded by John A. Bowers; President Bowers was succeeded in April 1942 
by William W. Seegmiller; President Seegmiller was succeeded in May 
1945 by Harold M. Rex; President Rex was succeeded in March 1949 by 
Rulon S. Howells; President Howells was succeeded in November 1953 by 
Asael T. Sorensen, who presides at the present time. 

In November 1955 there were twenty-three branches of the Church 
in Brazil, with 1,103 members. Fifteen Relief Society organizations were 
reported in December 1955, with 143 members. Ida Lorene M. Sorensen 
is now president of the Brazilian Mission Relief Society. 

How We Conduct the Family 
Hour in Our Home 

Helen S. Gardner 

[Address delivered at Logan Stake Quarterly Conference, Logan, Utah, 

September 4, 1955] 

WE have two kinds of family 
hours in our home. First, 
the impromptu kind, when 
Eldon suddenly finds that his meet- 
ing has unexpectedly been canceled 
and he will be home; and, second, 
the kind that is planned in advance. 

What excitement there is when 
Eldon comes in and says, "I'm go- 
ing to be home tonight. Let's have 
a home evening!'* 

The older girls hurry and wash 
up the dishes, while Donald, our 
son, makes a fire in the fireplace, 
and I stir up some punch and hunt 
for cookies in the basement. 

As we sit around the blazing fire, 
Eldon holds Mary Jane on his lap 
and reads aloud to us. Thus we 
have heard many chapters from the 
life histories of our ancestors. These 
were all sturdy pioneer folk, and we 
have learned to be more thankful 
for our blessings just through hear- 
ing of the hardships they went 

Then, sometimes, I read. Already, 
we have covered the Book of 
Mormon Stones for Children, and 
two books of Bible stories for chil- 
dren. When the littlest children 
become too tired to sit still any 
longer, we sing some songs, play a 
game or two, and enjoy punch and 

But the planned, anticipated, 

Page 160 

family hours are much more fun. 
First, we must choose a night when 
Eldon will be home. This has be- 
come increasingly difficult since he 
became bishop, and the regularity 
of our meetings has been upset, but 
we choose our time and hold to it 
even though he may be called out. 
The children look forward with 
such enthusiasm to family night 
that I am never allowed to forget 

We have two sets of children in 
our family: the older group, ages 
eleven to fifteen, and the younger 
group, ages three to seven. When 
it is decided that a family hour will 
be held, they all come tumbling 
boisterously into the kitchen yell- 
ing, "I speak to be the refreshment 
committee"; ''I want to be on the 
entertainment committee"; "I want 
the program." 

We unscramble our committees. 
Each member receives his assign- 
ment. Usually, an older one and a 
younger one work on a committee 
together. The refreshment com- 
mittee prefers to work secretly in 
order to surprise us with something 
unusually delicious. The entertain- 
ment committee retires to a corner 
to plan the games. Much whisper- 
ing goes on — sometimes for days — 
and occasionally I am consulted for 



HPHE program committee is, of 
course, the most important. 
Material is often gathered from The 
Children s Friend, The Improve- 
ment Era, or Sunday School lesson 
manuals. Betty has suggested that 
our next program should center 
around the theme of "Reverence," 
as suggested in Primary. 

We must remember to have 
something which will be interesting 
to the older group of children and 
appealing to the younger ones, yet 
not too long and tiring. Very often 
each member of the family is asked 
to participate. Prayers must be as- 
signed. More than once I have 
found Alice, age five, in a corner 
with Mary Jane, age three, trying 
to teach her a little prayer. Songs 
and music must be decided upon. 
Cynthia particularly loves to lead 
the singing, and when she's in 
charge, we are practically certain 
that we'll be singing her favorite 
song, "My Country, Tis of Thee." 

The musical talents of our family- 
could be improved upon, but very 
often we have Patricia playing the 
violin while Donald plays a tune on 
his clarinet. And Betty can already 
play a melody on the piano. Then, 
we all love to sing. We sing Pri- 
mary and Sunday School songs for 
the younger group and Mutual fun 
songs for the older group, and usual- 
ly end up with "Come, Come, Ye 
Saints." Of course we close with 
prayer. These are some of the 
things we have done just this sum- 
mer in participating on our Family 
Hour, beginning with the youngest 

Mary Jane has repeated a finger 
play with actions that she learned in 
Sunday School, and has sung the 

song, "Jesus, Friend of Little Chil- 
dren," from Primary. 

The littlest children are very sin- 
cere and innocent in the way they 
tell stories, but are sometimes amus- 
ing to their parents. 

Alice said she had a story from 
the Bible she could tell. There was 
a man named Elijah. He was a 
good man and was hiding away 
from the bad people in a cave. He 
was hungry, so he prayed to Heaven- 
ly Father. Pretty soon a big sea 
gull came flying over and dropped 
him a pancake. 

Cynthia said she could tell a 
story she heard in Sunday School. 
She told how a man named Nehi 
left Jerusalem and traveled in the 
wilderness. He lived in a tent. One 
morning he found a large brass ball 
in front of his tent. The word 
Liahona is still hard to remember, 
and we have to keep reminding her 
that the man's name was Lehi, not 
Nehi, but she never forgets that 
his wife was named Sariah. 

Betty has repeated the Articles of 
Faith as far as she has learned them 
in Primary. Donald has finished 
the Articles of Faith where Betty 
left off and has repeated the Boy 
Scout Oath and Laws and given us 
a good demonstration of flag signal- 

Patricia has given a talk on faith 
and other short selections. I have 
illustrated the stories of Adam and 
Eve and Noah and the ark on my 
flannel board which I use for Pri- 
mary, and Eldon has ended the 
program with a Scriptural reading 
or a short talk on a religious subject. 
Then we have had the closing 

After the program, the refresh- 



ment committee takes over. With 
our mouths watering, we sit politely 
while we are served. We have had 
some delicious concoctions, usually 
something which the children have 
thought of and prepared themselves 
with a little help. 

HPHEN the entertainment commit- 
tee comes forth with the games. 
It is a family rule to have two games 
for the younger children and two 
for the older ones. On one occas- 
ion, I helped the committee make 
a Book of Mormon game which 
consisted of questions from The 
Book of Mormon stories we had 
read. Each question was written 
on a card. The person answering 

the question could keep the card, 
and the one with the most cards in 
the end won the game. Once Don- 
ald and I made an Articles of Faith 
puzzle. We wrote the Articles of 
Faith in big letters on cardboard 
and cut them up in puzzles. We 
took turns fitting the puzzles to- 

We have noticed much growth 
and development through participa- 
tion in our Family Hour, but best 
of all we are learning the gospel to- 
gether and having fun doing it. 
Family Hour is helping to build 
testimonies in the lives of our chil- 
dren and thereby is strengthening 

{Desert LJ earnings 

Annie Atlrin Tanner 

When summer suns in other lands torture me, 

I long for desert thunderstorms 

Which tear black clouds apart and let a prayed-for 

Rain, fall on red earth, 

That long has begged for saving streams 

From heaven. 

In the desert there are no trembling aspens 

Nor stately pines nor rugged junipers 

To grace this land I love, 

But there are thorny cactus plants, 

With blossoms pink as the glow of early morning, 

And deliciously smelling of fruits 

Grown only in the tropics. 

There are creamy, waxen bells, 

On sturdy stems of Yucca trees, 

Whose sword-spiked leaves guard well 

Their perfumed loveliness. 

And there is copper-colored moonlight, 

The song of the cactus wren, 

And after rain, the pungent breath 

Of chaparral. 

Oh, there is peace and restful solitude, 
In this chimerical world of my desert, 
And I long for it with a nostalgic yearning, 
That years can never take away! 

The Ice-Cream Pie 

Florence B. Dunford 

I am afraid I have always been 
the timid sort. "Do people 
like me?" seems always to be 
my question. And, "How much 
can I do for them?" And, "Do 
people really like you to do things 
for them?" Things like that. Mat- 
ters of friendliness. 

A couple of years before, we had 
moved to this new neighborhood. 
At first everyone made an obvious 
effort to be friendly, to get acquaint- 
ed. But then the Jennings on the 
east of us seemed to find out that 
Tim and I didn't really travel in 
their class after all. The neighbors 
directly across the street from us 
were a trifle old for me, I felt. Be- 
sides, she was a club woman and 
gone all day. And Dr. Walton was 
older even than his wife. By even- 
ing all he wanted was to settle down 
with TV. 

That left the neighbors on the 
west of us; he traveled over several 
states. His wife went with him. On 
the east of the doctor, across the 
street, lived the Morrisons. Mrs. 
Morrison, though she was of our 
faith, had four growing daughters, 
and an aged, ailing father. Mrs. 
Morrison, I knew, didn't have much 
time for friendliness. 

The neighbor I really wanted to 
know was a Mrs. Carter who lived 
in a smaller house than ours, com- 
pact and neat, but not so elaborate, 
on the west of the old doctor and 
his wife. 

I just didn't know what had hap- 
pened between Joan Carter and my- 
self. She was my sort, I felt. She 
beamed friendliness. They'd bought 

their home a year or so later than 
we'd built ours, and they had two 
children. We'd been among the 
first in the subdivision of an old 
apple orchard that had been turned 
into a homesite; the prettiest one 
in our small western city, people 
often told me. 

"The Carters would like to get 
acquainted," Tim my husband told 
me several times there at first. "She 
seems an awfully nice sort. We 
ought to have them over." 

"We will," I said. But somehow 
the time never came. I had old 
friends I was still interested in. 
There was the work on the new 
yard; I wanted to keep the house 
shining. Our daughter was away 
at school, summer and winter. I 
kept finding new interests. 

Gradually the Carters and we 
drifted into just a pleasant speaking 
acquaintance. This hurt me, for I 
wanted to be friendly. Why 
doesn't Joan borrow from me? I 
thought, the morning I saw her re- 
turning the steam iron to the neigh- 
bor at the extreme end of the block. 
What is it I've done or haven't 
done that makes her feel shy or un- 
friendly toward me? 

The time seemed to have passed 
when I could ask them over, casual- 
ly, or for a more formal evening. 
Why doesn't she like me? I kept 
thinking. Why won't she just run 
in and out the way I'd like to have 
her do — the way I see her do with 
Betty Jennings on the east, who, 
though I didn't care so much about 
her, rarely visited me either. 

Maybe it's Tim, I decided. Per- 

Page 163 



haps Tim wasn't friendly enough 
with the husbands. 

Yet it was Tim who first got ac- 
quainted with the Carters. And the 
Jennings on the east, and the Fent- 
ons on the west, and the old doctor 
and the Morrisons. No, I felt sure 
it wasn't Tim. Something was the 
matter with me. People just didn't 
like me. But why, why? 

Still I had my old friends. They 
at least understood me. That morn- 
ing in April with the apple blossoms 
on the old trees in bloom, the nar- 
cissi and the tulips and the flower- 
ing crab making a perfumed fairy 
garden in the rear, Ann Helke 
phoned me. 

"Louise Davis and I are going to 
have lunch and spend the afternoon 
shopping," she said. "Would you 
like to join us?" 

"Tim's going to stay home and 
work on the yard today," I an- 
swered. "I'd sort of promised my- 
self . . . but, yes, I'll go," I decided. 
An afternoon downtown with my 
old friends would do me good. 

■pVEN so, that day thinking about 
Tim eating his sandwich alone, 
spending the day alone while I 
loafed and gadded and enjoyed my- 
self at lunch and during the long 
afternoon going from shop to shop, 
kept worrying me. That's silly I'd 
argue with myself from time to 
time. Tim doesn't really care. I 
don't waste much of my time. It 
just happens he is home today. And 
look at Ann and Louise. Some wom- 
en spend half their time — three- 
fourths of it, visiting, attending 
clubs, going to movies, or just plain 
window shopping. 

"I haven't a thing in the house 
to eat," I told Ann guiltily, when 

along about six o'clock she dropped 
me off in front of our ranch style 

"Neither have I," she answered 
easily. "But I'll find something. Or 
maybe Jess'll take me out." 

Tim wasn't much at eating out, 
I thought, as I opened the front 
door. But after a day's work on 
the yard — Tim always went at any- 
thing twice as hard as he ought — 
he'd want something really sub- 
stantial, along with something nice 
for dessert. Tim was a meat and 
dessert man. The things in be- 
tween didn't interest him much. 

A quick glance through the rooms 
said Tim wasn't in from the yard 
yet. Dumping my hat and my few 
purchases on the bed in the far bed- 
room, I hurried out back. 

"I'm home, darling," I called. 

Tim turned a red, weary face to 
me from the far side of the garden. 
"That's good." 


He tried to smile. "Famished. 
That sandwich . . . ." 

"I know," I said guiltily. "And 
I'll bet you haven't stopped a min- 
ute all day. I'll hurry and get din- 

That morning, standing by my 
kitchen sink there at the front of 
the house, I'd noticed a couple of 
strange cars in the Carter driveway. 
Joan's folks from the northern part 
of the state, I had thought. 

The cars were still there, I saw. 
Joan will be busy, I thought, and 
I imagined her hurrying through the 
small rooms (ours were so large), 
her hazel eyes smiling, her short 
dark hair smooth and neat. Joan 
was such a pretty woman! 

I hurried to the icebox to see 



what I could find for Tim's dinner. 
Leftover lamb roast from two days 
ago. A salad. I could open a can 
of brown beans to go with it. But 
what for dessert? Tim simply didn't 
consider he'd eaten without dessert! 

More from habit than from hope, 
I opened the freezing compartment. 
At best I expected to find nothing 
better than a can of frozen orange 
juice, a taste of half-melted sher- 
bet .... 

At first, I literally couldn't be- 
lieve my eyes. I blinked and looked 
again. On the lower shelf of the 
freezing compartment, basking in 
a luscious pale brown crumb crust, 
was the most delectable lime-green 
ice-cream pie I'd ever seen! 

I swallowed and looked a third 
time. The vision didn't change. 
My heart beating fast, I hurried out 
back again. 

"Tim, oh, Tim!" I called softly. 
"Who sent the beautiful pie?" 

npiM, with his face deep in the 
bushes, his back toward me, 
didn't answer. I went back inside, 
opened the ice box again, this time 
just to stare. 

Who had sent the pie? Which 
of my new neighbors? 

I hurried to the window. The 
solution of Tim's dessert problem 
and my little guilty feeling at leav- 
ing him, wasting my afternoon, had 
brought with it another problem. 
Which one of my neighbors — the 
fragility of the pie indicated it must 
have come from close by — which 
one, had done this kindly, this most 
timely deed? 

Betty Jennings, there on the east, 
I mused. Betty called desserts 
"goop." Across from her, the Mor- 
risons. Mrs. Morrison would be 

too busy with her own brood, her 
ailing father, to spend the time on 
such a work of art as this! The old 
doctor's wife directly across from 
us! As if in answer to that Mrs. 
Walton's ice-blue car, with her at 
the wheel, coasted in to their wide 
driveway. On the west of us, the 
new people, the Fentons? But just 
this morning Tim had told me they 
were in Portland. 

Joan Carter, then! Joan Carter, 
the one I so hoped and wanted it 
to be! There just wasn't any other 
answer. While I had been down- 
town with my old friends, shopping 
and wasting my day, Joan had — 
along with her house guests — 
found the time, and the desire, to 
make this wonderful lime-green ice 
cream pie! 

My heart sang. All my problems, 
my self-doubts, I felt were answered. 
Joan still wanted to be friends. 
Whatever had happened there at 
first, it didn't matter now. Joan 
and I were friends! I'd never doubt 
her again! I'd never doubt myself! 
And in the future I'd never forget 
it. No matter what happened, no 
matter the slights and the coldness, 
I'd have this to go by. The knowl- 
edge of her kindness would stay in 
my mind and my heart forever. 

I began to plan the things we'd 
do together, Joan borrowing from 
me, me calling across to her, Tim 
and her husband friends. Her chil- 
dren, maybe, calling me Aunt Sally. 

The lamb roast, the fresh green 
salad, even the canned oven- 
browned beans took on a different 
aspect as, calling to Tim again that 
dinner was ready, I set them on the 
table there in our small dining 
room, just off the kitchen. And 



then to please Tim's eye, to make 
the occasion even more special, 
while he was washing in the bath- 
room just off the patio, I lifted the 
ice-cream pie from its shelf. Cut- 
ting two generous wedges, I slid 
them carefully onto two of my 
Minton plates. 

"It's ready, dear; dinner's ready," 
I sang out, just as Tim appeared 
through the door of the utility 

Tim, weary as he was, didn't seem 
to notice. He drew back his chair, 
sank into it. "Whew, what a day!" 

I could restrain myself no longer. 
"You saw the pie," I said, my glance 
indicating the creamy, ice-cool 
wedges. "Wasn't it nice of Joan to 
send it?" I was so sure it was Joan. 
I could speak with such sureness. 

"CEND us the pie!" Tim explod- 
ed. At last he was seeing the 
creamy wedges. "Joan didn't give 
it to us! She's got guests. Her ice- 
box was full. She just wanted to 
store it in ours." 

The bottom seemed to fall out 
of my day. "Just . . . store . . . it?" 
I stammered. It was as though I 
were begging him to say differently. 

Tim nodded. "And you've cut 
it!" There was blame and censure 
in his voice, his manner. 

"Oh, I'm sorry! I called to you 
but you didn't hear me. I'll have 
to put it back." 

"Well, I'll say," Tim said. He 
was helping himself to the leftover 
roast, the canned beans. 

As best I could I slid the delicate 
pieces into place, put the pie back 
in the freezer, turned up the con- 
trols. But already the pieces had 
begun to melt. The pie would nev- 

er look the same again. And I'd 
never feel the same again. 

"You're not eating," Tim said a 
few minutes later. 

"I'm . . . just not hungry, I 
guess." I murmured something 
about my afternoon downtown. 

My neighbor had been thinking 
of me. She had turned to me to 
store her pie and now we'd never 
be friends. 

In the morning, however, I pre- 
pared Tim's and my own bacon and 
eggs, new strawberries, and buttered 
toast, and I ate mine with relish. 

"What are you going to do to- 
day?" Tim asked his usual question, 
as, dressed in his neat tan suit, his 
lips touched my cheek at the door. 

"I've really got a busy day," I said 
smiling. "I'm going to make you 
something nice for dessert tonight. 
Besides that, I'm going to bake 
something for the neighbors." 

"The neighbors?" Tim raised his 
eyebrows in mock consternation. 
"All of them?" 

"Well, some of them. Mrs. Mor- 
rison; her girls would like some 
cookies, I'm sure. And maybe her 
old father . . . he'd like a custard. 
And Betty, next door. I'll bet I 
can find some kind of dessert she 
won't call 'goop.' ' I hesitated a 
moment. "But most of all I want 
to bake something for Joan. Most 
especially, Joan." 

Tim's face lit up in the most 
beatific smile. "Well, that's more 
like it," he said. 

And I knew suddenly that if I had 
been worried about myself, he had 
been worried about me, too. And 
now neither of us was worried. 

"That's my girl," he said. And 
bending over me again, he kissed 
me on the mouth. 

Qetting Tievo Subscriptions and [Renewals for 
ofhe [Relief Society 1 1 Lagazine 

Lucy Horman 

Magazine Representative, Highland Stake (Utah) 

[Discussion Presented in the Magazine Department Meeting, Annual General Relief 

Society Conference, September 29, 1955] 

MEMBERS of our Church are 
constantly asked to perform 
tasks for which they have lit- 
tle or no training. This is par- 
ticularly true of the Magazine rep- 
resentatives. They often come to 
us with misgivings. I have heard 
them say, "I haven't had any experi- 
ence in selling, but our president 
combed the ward and was unable 
to find anyone to fill this position, 
so I have decided to help her out." 
We have learned from experience 
that it isn't how much they know 
that matters, but how willing they 
are to learn. 

A Planned Reading Program 

If we are to be successful, we 
must increase our knowledge of sell- 
ing. To gain knowledge of selling, 
we would do well to study the tech- 
nique of outstanding salesmen who 
make their living in this field. Gain- 
ing knowledge is dependent on the 
persistent effort we put forth. To 
increase knowledge, some profes- 
sional salesmen advise a planned 
reading program. Thirty minutes 
each day is suggested. Part of our 
reading should be done aloud, so 
we can hear our voices and improve 
any undesirable qualities that we 
may discover. Words have been 
called the tools with which we ex- 
press our thoughts. Therefore, it is 
suggested that we improve our vo- 

cabularies by spending a few min- 
utes each day with the dictionary. 
We should persist in using these 
new words until they become nat- 
ural to us. 

We must also develop our ability 
to think clearly and express our 
thoughts fluently, for we want to 
give the impression that we know 
what we are talking about. The 
ability to say the right word at the 
right time is often the difference be- 
tween success and failure. 

A Positive Attitude 

A positive attitude is vital to suc- 
cess. Any negative expression may 
defeat our cause. This brings to 
mind an incident of my youth. A 
neighbor girl came to our home and 
said to my mother, "Mrs. Smith, 
Fm selling pins. I knew you 
wouldn't buy any, but I thought I'd 
come anyway." 

After she had gone, mother said 
with a grin, 'There is a young lady 
who is destined to rise to the 
heights in the field of selling!" 

A popular song of a few years ago 
suggested that we emphasize the 
positive and eliminate the negative, 
and that is what we want to do and 
we can do it by choosing our words 

A Magazine representative in my 
stake discovered that she was saying 

Page 167 


the wrong thing when she asked us by our Heavenly Father through 

for renewals. It had been her habit the Prophet Joseph Smith for our 

to say, "Would you like to renew growth and development. The Mag- 

your subscription to The Relief So- azine representative has a very im- 

ciety Magazine?" She had a dis- portant calling, for it is her task to 

couraging number of them say "No." place the Magazine, or the "Voice 

She thought about it for some time, of the Relief Society," as it has been 

and concluded that when she said, called, in every Latter-day Saint 

"Would you like to renew your sub- home, 
scription?" she was placing a choice 

in front of them, and they were The Advantage of Personal Contact 
choosing to do the very thing she How shall we make these con- 
didn't want them to do. Now she tacts? Several approaches come to 
has changed her wording to, "It is my m i n d. The personal contact, 
time for you to renew your subscrip- the telephone, and at a Relief So- 
tion to The Relief Society Maga- c iety meeting. Again, we shall turn 
zine, 7J and has had very few refusals to the professional salesman for ad- 
since. vice. I have talked personally with 
Authorities agree that we must be some of these men, and they agree 
persistent in our efforts to learn, and that there is no substitute for per- 
we must have the qualities that sonal contact. The personal con- 
make people like us. We should tact gives an opportunity to get ac- 
analyze our personalities. Are we quainted with the women. It gives 
cheerful, enthusiastic, and consider- the Magazine representative a 
ate of the feelings of others? If not, chance to show the Magazine, ex- 
we should develop these qualities, plain its contents, and point out its 
It is also important that we under- value to the family. It also gives 
stand human behavior so we can her the opportunity to explain the 
combine our knowledge and these Relief Society organization which 
qualities of personality to influence is responsible for the Magazine. It 
people to do what we want them to is in the unhurried atmosphere of 
do. the home visit that the Magazine 

representative's personality will 

Know the Magazine show to the best advantage. 

We have learned from master 
salesmen that we must know our Using the Telephone 
product before we can success- I have been assured that no busi- 
fully present it to others. In our ness could be run without the tele- 
case we must know The Relief So- phone. However, in selling, it is 
ciety Magazine, and only by reading only useful if we understand its 
the Magazine will we know its con- limitations. Its real value in sell- 
tents and its worth to other women, ing is to clear the way for a person- 
Magazine representatives should al interview, where the selling will 
learn all they can about the Relief be done. Insurance companies use 
Society organization, its history, and the telephone to eliminate from 
its aims. We know it was given to their lists the names of people who 



are not interested in what they have 
to offer. Although the Magazine 
representative would not use the 
phone for the same purpose, it is 
helpful to us in many ways. One 
of our ward representatives used it 
to get her renewals. She said she 
was ill for five weeks, and could not 
get around the ward. So she called 
the women on the phone and ex- 
plained the situation to them. She 
told them it was time to renew their 
subscriptions and asked them to 
send the money to her. She was 
very happy when they all renewed. 
This was an emergency where the 
telephone was put to good use. It 
can also be used to check with new 
subscribers to make sure they are 
receiving their Magazine. While 
we do not usually make appoint- 
ments for interviews, it is advisable, 
where women work, to call them on 
the phone and ask for the privilege 
of visiting in their homes at a time 
that is convenient. 

Announcements in 
Relief Society Meetings 

Although the Relief Society 
meeting is not the place for mak- 
ing sales, it does give the Maga- 
zine representative an opportunity 
to speak occasionally. An enthus- 
iastic talk, especially at the begin- 
ning of the fall season, will serve as 
a reminder to the women that the 
Magazine representative will be vis- 
iting them in their homes for new 
subscriptions or renewals. 

Parents with missionaries in the 
field should be encouraged to send 
the Magazine to them, for mission- 
aries are often called upon to serve 
in this organization. When my 
own son was serving in Australia, 
I sent the Magazine to him. He 

notified me upon receipt of his first 
copy. A short time passed, and in 
another letter he said, "Mother, 
have you read the articles in The 
Relief Society Magazine written by 
Homer Durham? If you haven't, I 
suggest that you do so." A few 
weeks later in another letter, he 
said, "Mother, I'm now teaching 
the social science class in Relief So- 
ciety. These lessons are written by 
Homer Durham. If you have not 
read them, I suggest that you do 
so." At that time I was president 
of the Relief Society, so found his 
suggestion amusing. 


We must keep in mind that it is 
not only the responsibility of the 
Magazine representative to get new 
subscriptions, but she must take 
care of all renewals. These renewals, 
like new subscriptions, must be 
turned in to the general board one 
month in advance, as only enough 
Magazines are published to fill the 
subscriptions received. The Maga- 
zine representatives should take the 
renewals very seriously, as most of 
our women have come to depend 
on them for this service. It is un- 
fortunate when a subscription runs 
out and an issue is missed. In many 
cases it causes real inconvenience to 
our women, and gives the impres- 
sion that the Magazine representa- 
tive is not interested in them. 

In conclusion, let us remember 
that the Magazine representative 
should carry into the homes she 
visits a spirit of enthusiasm, sincer- 
ity, cheerfulness, and a true consid- 
eration for the feelings of the wom- 
en. We should keep in mind that 
it is far more important to make a 
friend than to make a sale. 

Sixty Ljears J^go 

Excerpts From the Woman's Exponent, March 1, and March 15, 1896 

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

THE EXPONENT IN ENGLAND: There are a great many women in the 
Church in England, both old and young, who would be highly delighted and benefited, 
could they have the opportunity of perusing your excellent publication, many, yes many, 
of these sisters are unable to subscribe, and are literally starving for faith promoting and 
encouraging literature suitable to their sex ... . Can the blessed, yes thiice blessed 
sisters in Zion not do something ... if only to have a copy of the Exponent placed on 
file in every conference house in the missions of the world . . . ? 

— H. A. Tuckett 

RELIEF SOCIETY IN WAYNE STAKE: The Relief Society of Wayne Stake 
held Conference Nov. 29th, 1895, in the Loa Relief Society Hall .... Counselor Mary 
E. Hanks was pleased to meet with the sisters, said: "If we all have a prayerful heart, 
such things will be said that will be beneficial to all. We are living in a day and age 
when there are great improvements, therefore it behooves us to improve ourselves in 
every way possible, prepare ourselves to bring forth mighty men and women. It is a 
great joy when mothers see their sons promoted to higher priesthoods. We should en- 
courage our children to read good books . . . ." 

— Anna Coleman, Sec. 


Oh! The mothers of men: What a toilsome life, 
Is theirs from their early years. 
And the pitying father must look down, 
And prepare for such a glorious crown 
Where is found no sorrow or tears .... 

The countenance then will shine as the sun, 
Being glorious to behold, 
As robed in white 'round the throne of God, 
Having passed from under affliction's rod 
No more to grow wrinkled and old .... 

— Mary A. Freeze 

QUEEN VICTORIA: Queen Victoria has 67 living descendants. And yet they 
say that if women are allowed to take part in politics, the human race will die out! 

— Selected 

KINDERGARTEN EDUCATION: Fair Utah which abounds in children ought 
not to be behind in progressive work in this direction .... Women cannot too soon 
urge upon legislators and school boards the quality and excellence of the Kindergarten. 
Froebel the originator of this system in his trumpet-call to the mothers of Germany says, 
"Come let us live with the children"; and as every mother should live with her children, 
and many mothers are severely puzzled to know what to do with the children and how 
best to train and manage them, the mothers are the ones who should become kinder- 
garten educators, and the young women of today can find no better field or profession 
than the kindergarten affords. 

— Editorial 

Page 170 

Woman's Sphere 

Ramona W. Cannon 

president of Relief Society, has 
been appointed a member of the 
National Board of the American 
Mothers Committee, the organiza- 
tion which selects the American 
Mother of the Year. The objectives 
of the Committee are: "1. To de- 
velop and strengthen the moral and 
spiritual fibre of the American 
home; 2. To give to the observance 
of Mother's Day a spiritual quality 
which highlights the standards of 
ideal Motherhood and recognizes 
the important role of the Mother in 
the Home, the Community, the 
Nation and the World." 

\\70MEN now serving in the 
Congress of the United States 
are equally divided between Demo- 
crats and Republicans, eight women 
representing each party. Of the 
total number of women who have 
ever served in Congress, the Demo- 
crats have sent thirty-six and the 
Republicans twenty-four. Twenty- 
one women succeeded their hus- 
bands, and one succeeded her fa- 
ther. The other thirty-eight wom- 
en legislators were elected "on 
their own." 


of Great Britain, was named 

Woman of the Year bv the women 

editors of the Associated Press news- 

papers of America because she re- 
nounced her personal happiness (a 
marriage with Group Captain Peter 
Townsend) in favor of duty to 
church, state, and family. Grace Kel- 
ly placed first in the field of acting; 
Clare Boothe Luce in politics; sev- 
enty-five-year-old Helen Keller in 
the field of service; Babe Zaharias in 
sports; Anne Morrow Lindbergh in 
writing (Gift horn the Sea); Oveta 
Culp Hobby in the field of educa- 
tion; Bernice Fitz-Gibbon in the 
field of advertising. 

OIRTHDAY congratulations are 
extended to: Mrs. Augusta 
Jacobson Sward, Provo, Utah, nine- 
ty-seven; Mrs. Mary E. Giauque 
Hodge, Salt Lake City, Utah, nine- 
ty-five; Mrs. Lorine I. Higbee, 
Toquerville, Utah, ninety-four; Mrs. 
Lovisa G. Davis, St. Anthony, Ida- 
ho, ninety-four; Mrs. Carrie Jensen 
Thomas, Logan, Utah, ninety-one; 
and the following women who have 
reached their ninetieth birthdays: 
Mrs. Mary Swensen, Hyrum, Utah; 
Mrs. Brita Lundgren, Salt Lake 
City, Utah; Mrs. Nelsmine (Min- 
nie) Weibel, Los Angeles, Cali- 
fornia; Mrs. Pamela Thompson 
Smith, Centerville, Utah; Miss 
Alice Smith, Logan, Utah; Mrs. 
Catherine Warren Bennett, Poca- 
tello, Idaho. 

Page 171 


VOL 43 

MARCH 1956 

NO. 3 

cJhe (constitution of IKelief Society 

"DECENTLY a question was asked 
by a Church member, "Well, 
just why is Relief Society the great- 
est women's organization in the 

The answer from a devoted Relief 
Society member came promptly. 
"There are other organizations with 
worthwhile purposes, it is true, but 
none other is instructed by the 
Priesthood of God, nor does any 
one other combine the character- 
istics of Relief Society. 

"Relief Society gives instruction 
in theology, and thus develops and 
strengthens individual testimonies 
of the gospel. In addition, Relief 
Society teaches and encourages a 
higher concept of wifehood, mother- 
hood, and homemaker, at the same 
time offering training and refine- 
ment through a study of great litera- 
ture. Relief Society makes women 
better citizens and community im- 
provers through study in the social 
science field. All these studies as 
carried on, are approved by the 
Priesthood — thus further imple- 
menting the words of the Prophet 
Joseph at the organization of Relief 

You will receive instructions through 
the order of the Priesthood which God 
has established, through the medium of 
those appointed to lead, guide and direct 
the affairs of the Church in this last dis- 
pensation . . . (D. H. C. IV, page 607). 

Page 172 

"Then," the speaker continued, 
"there is the great opportunity for 
service, in addition to all the formal 
instruction. Any member may be 
called upon to perform services for 
others by the president, or by mem- 
bers of the presidency. And here 
again," the sister leaned forward in 
her intensity, "the manner in which 
the leaders are chosen is unique 
with women's organizations. There 
is never any jockeying for position. 
The president is chosen by the gov- 
erning Priesthood, and she chooses 
her counselors (vice presidents they 
would be called in other women's 
organizations ) , with the approval of 
the Priesthood. The manner in 
which they are chosen marks them 
as being called of the Lord through 
his servants, and thus complete ac- 
ceptance of their positions and the 
way they conduct the affairs of the 
Society is accorded by the member- 

"Let me remind you," the sister 
continued, "of what the Prophet 
Joseph Smith said of the general 
presidency of Relief Society in 
Nauvoo. You may recall that Eliza 
R. Snow had been asked to draw 
up a constitution and a set of by- 
laws to give to the Prophet for his 
acceptance in setting up a women's 
organization. He, however, while 
commending the sisters on the ex- 
cellence of the articles, said, The 



Lord has something better for you 
than a written constitution, and 
then he appointed the 17th of 
March as the time of the first meet- 

"During the organization pro- 
ceedings, the Prophet told them 
what their Constitution would be: 

Let this presidency serve as a Constitu- 
tion — all their decisions be considered law, 
and acted upon as such . . . The min- 
utes of your meetings will be precedent 
for you to act upon — your Constitution 
and law (A Centenary of Relief Society, 
page 15). 

"PROM that time this has been 
the proper order. Over the years, 
under the direction of the presiding 
Priesthood, decisions of the general 
presidency have formed the prece- 
dents under which the Society has 
progressed. True, being organized 
'under the Priesthood and after a 
pattern of the Priesthood/ the gen- 
eral presidency has a board appoint- 
ed to share the work and assist in 
the planning, conducting, and carry- 
ing out of the general objectives, but 
the Constitution remains the presi- 
dency of the organization and their 
decisions, and minutes of the board 
are the precedents which constitute 
the by-laws of the organization. 
"Certainly," the speaker empha- 

sized, "this pattern formed under in- 
spiration by a Prophet of the Lord, 
has guided the Society to its pres- 
ent heights of being the greatest 
woman's organization in the world. 
In a spirit of humility and service, 
and in recognition of its divine be- 
ginnings and its continued growth 
under subsequent and present 
Church Priesthood guidance, it is 
inevitably pre-eminent. Nowhere 
else has a woman's organization had 
such a beginning nor such a history. 
And it will always be so," this de- 
voted Relief Society member fin- 
ished. "It will spread as the Church 
spreads and become greater and 
more powerful, so long as the grand 
key-words, given Relief Society by 
the Prophet Joseph Smith, are fol- 
lowed: 'Said Jesus, Ye shall do the 
work which ye see me do/ ' 

"Relief Society's true greatness 
rests upon the service it gives to the 
Church and to one's neighbor. And 
I just wish," concluded the speaker, 
"that the other half of the women 
of the Church realized the privileges 
and blessings which come to Relief 
Society members, and that all 
Church women would join Relief 
Society and assist in its God-given 


-M. C. S. 

cJ emote Sc 

'empie square 

Leone E. McCune 

Here in the busy city's heart 

High wall, enclosed, and set apart; 

Quiet, serene, in summer's beauty dressed, 

Silent and hushed in snows of winter blessed. 

Pipe organ music floats about the grounds; 

With words of prayer and praise the place resounds, 

And people come from far and near 
Its unique messages to hear. 

a n m 

e mo nam 

— (charlotte v^/wens Sackett 

/^HARLOTTE Owens Sackett, seventy-eight, died in Salt Lake City, 
Utah, January 24, 1956. A beloved Relief Society "Singing Mother," 
this devoted sister gave freely of her lovely talents and her thorough musical 
education in training and inspiring hundreds of Relief Society singers. In 
April 1932, the Liberty Stake (Salt Lake City, Utah) chorus of selected 
voices from the various wards, and directed by Sister Sackett, furnished the 
music for Relief Society general conference. After this successful appear- 
ance, the chorus was sponsored by the general board, more singers were 
added, and Sister Sackett was appointed director of the combined choruses. 
This group furnished music for the general conference of the Church in 
April 1933, appearing under the name of "Singing Mothers" — a dear 
name — which has been greatly multiplied and has been given to ward and 
stake and mission Relief Society singers throughout the Church. 

The beautiful soprano voice of Sister Sackett will long be remembered, 
and the inspiration of her direction will be as a lasting heritage for the 
Singing Mothers in years to come. 



Kyrgantzattons and LKeorga taxations of Stake 
ana 1 1 itsston uieltef Societies for iQ55 

East Mesa 

Grand Junction 

New Orleans 

Rose Park 

Gulf States 


Formerly Part of 

Mesa and Maricopa 

Western States 

Oahu Stake 
Texas-Louisiana and 

Southern States 

Inglewood Stake 
Riverside Stake 

Appointed President Date Appointed 
Reta M. Reed November 20, 1955 

Evelyn T. McKinnon October 16, 1955 

Miriam W. Knapp 
Dolores Cluff Fife 

Magdalen W. Lake 
Betty Jo Reiser 

Phyllis D. Smith 
continued as 

(Name changed from 
Mission ) 
Northern Far East (Created from former Hazel M. Robertson 

Japanese Mission) 
South Australian Australian Mission Adelphia Durrant 

Southern Far East (Created from former Roxey Luana C. 
Japanese Mission) Heaton 

Page 174 

September 15, 1955 
July 1, 1955 

June 6, 1955 
October 28, 1955 

June 19, 1955 

September 1, 1955 
September 1, 1955 
September 1, 1955 




Bear River 

Big Horn 





East Jordan 

East Long Beach 

East Phoenix 

East Riverside 




Las Vegas 





Mount Ogden 










Salmon River 

San Joaquin 

San Joaquin 



South Box Elder 

South Carolina 

South Sevier 

West Jordan 



Released President Appointed President Date Appointed 

Central American 
Central Atlantic 

East Central States 
Eastern States 

Arlene P. Sutton 

(Died May 10, '55) 
Ruby W. Nielson 
Amelia H. Robertson 
Fawn N. Dilworth 
Mary R. Young 
Inez B. Tingey 
Mabel H. Miller 
Grace G. Thornton 
Betsy McNey 
Lola M. Shumway 
Bernice S. Anderson 
Surelda C. Ralphs 
Alta S. Wiltshire 
Lorena Harline 
Alice Alldredge 
Lileth Peck 
La Vera W. Coombs 
Hanna S. Harris 
Esther Miller 
Cleone R. Eccles 
Sylvia Johnson 
Emma D. Chytraus 
Miriam W. Knapp 
Delia W. Swensen 
Cleo V. Hatch 
Magdalen W. Lake 
Nita J. Jorgensen 
Drusilla B. Newman 
LaRue O. Nixon 
Elizabeth G. Hoggan 
Venice J. Ricks 

(Died July 20, '55) 
Sylvia R. Stone 
Josephine C. Crook 
Birdie S. Bean 
Ezma L. Knudson 
Alice Voyles 
Montez O. 

Edna H. Bennion 
La Veil King 
Dora B. Callicott 

Elizabeth W. Winn June 26, 1955 

Cora L. Nielson 
Helena D. Belnap 
Donna Lou Thorne 
Cora Jenkins 
Pearl A. Heaton 
Eva H. Stevenson 
Celeste D. Millerberg 
LaPrele Mertz 
Lola L. Green 
Stake Disorganized 
Myrle B. Johansen 
Gwen H. Lyman 
Virginia Newbold 
Myrtle George 
Ruby M. Nielsen 
Gwen J. Miner 
Nellie S. Gleed 
Mildred B. Jarvis 
Ardella H. Stevens 
Christie L. Haynes 
Lynile Buhler 
Eugenia N. Logan 
Annabelle W. Hart 
Alta S. Wiltshire 
June Baggett 
Hope Beus 
Luella M. Buchi 
Minnie Angus 
Louise Arave 
Sylvia R. Stone 

May 1, 1955 
August 28, 1955 
May 8 7 1955 " 
May 15, 1955 
September 19, 1955 
September 7, 1955 
August 14, 1955 
September 8, 1955 
September 9, 1955 
October 9, 1955 
April 14, 1955 
December 4, 1955 
June 26, 1955 
August 21, 1955 
May 8 7 1955 
September 4, 1955 
March 27, 1955 
May 8, 1955 
September 4, 1955 
September 1, 1955 
June 19, 1955 
September 15, 1955 
September 4, 1955 
November 6, 1955 
July 28, 1955 
February 20, 1955 
November 1, 1955 
October 16, 1955 
March 20, 1955 
August 2, 1955 

Margaret R. Marchant September 8 7 1955 

Fern Horton 
Leora G. Clawson 
Edith E. Baddley 
Annie H. Capps 
Faye K. Nielson 

Zelda S. Conrad 
Thora Jackson 
Mae C. Johnson 

September 18, 1955 
February 27, 1955 
August 28, 1955 
July 10, 1955 
April 24, 1955 

January 16, 1955 
September 25, 1955 
May 22, 1955 


Released President Appointed President Date Appointed 

Leah B. Liljenquist 
Elizabeth B. Reiser 
LaPriel S. Bunker 
Anna H. Toone 
Elizabeth W. Romney 
Mabel M. Nalder 

Irene Toone Erekson 
Irene P. Kerr 
Alta H. Taylor 
Leah H. Lewis 
Gladvs K. Wagner 
Lovell W. Smith 

June 23, 1955 
October 19, 1955 
September 18, 1955 
October 19, 1955 
October 19, 1955 
September 14, 1955 

Adriana M. Zappey Marie Curtis Richards February 25, 1955 
Eva C. Taylor Florence S. Jacobsen July 19, 1955 




New England 
New Zealand 
Northern Far East 
Northwestern States 
Southern States 
Southwest Indian 


Released President Appointed President Date Appointed 

Hattie B. Maughan 
Alice W. Ottley 
Hazel M. Robertson 
Mavil A. McMurrin 
Emily E. Ricks 
Thelma S. Buchanan 
Frankie G. Orton 

Joan W. Coombs 
Afton K. Shreeve 

Margaret R. Jackson 
Arta Romney Ballif 
Frances P. Andrus 
Effie K. Driggs 
Lucile W. Bunker 
Lavena L. Rohner 
Dorothy Pope 
Sylvia R. Stone 
Louise Bush Parry 

August 29, 1955 
March 17, 1955 
November 12, 1955 
September 29, 1955 
October 19, 1955 
June 23, 1955 ' 
June 2, 1955 

October 19, 1955 
August 12, 1955 

cJ-ndex for 1Q55 [Relief Society ulagazine istvailable 

/^OPIES of the 1955 index of The Relief Society Magazines are available 

and may be ordered from the General Board of Relief Society, 40 North 
Main Street, Salt Lake City 1, Utah. The price is 15c, including postage. 

Relief Society officers and members who wish to have their 1955 
issues of The Relief Society Magazine bound may do so through the 
Deseret News Press, 31 Richards Street, Salt Lake City 1, Utah. The cost 
for binding the twelve issues in a permanent cloth binding is $2.50, in- 
cluding the index. If leather binding is preferred, the cost is $3.50, in- 
cluding the index. These prices do not include postage, and an additional 
amount to cover postage must accompany all orders for binding of the 
Magazines. See schedules of postage rates in this issue of the Magazine, 
page 209. 

If bound volumes are desired, and the Magazines cannot be supplied 
by the person making the request, the Magazines will be supplied for $1.50 
by the Magazine Department, General Board of Relief Society, 40 North 
Main Street, Salt Lake City 1, Utah. Only a limited number of Magazines 
are available for binding. 

It is suggested that all wards and stakes have one volume of the 1955 
Magazines bound for preservation in ward and stake Relief Society libraries. 

K/Lnriouricing the Special ^Jxpnl Short Story Hi 


HTHE April 1956 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 : 

"A Full Hive," by Dorothy Clapp Robinson 

"To You, Beloved," by Lois E. Fockner 

"Lesson From Letty," by Arlene D. Cloward 

"The Day Before the Wedding/' by Dorothy Boys Kilian 

Springtime o/s CJun-cJime 

Helen B. Morris 

LADY Spring has made her debut. The frogs are no longer icebound and can be 
seen hopping under furry pussy-willow trees. Coats of mottled hue have been 
gladly donned by all the members of the vulnerable rabbit kingdom. All except the 
Easter rabbit, that is. His white coat is in tiptop condition and his pink eyes are shin- 
ing their delight. His heyday is just around the corner. 

Our youngsters are joyfully sharing nature's delights, and spring will be more de- 
lightful, if we help them plan a party for Saturday afternoon, the day before Easter. 
Parties mean food, and food means plans. Let us help you with yours. 

Suppose we serve refreshments buffet style. To give the table the gay expression 
of spring, try this. First, cover it with a white cloth. Then, for an unusual and at- 
tractive centerpiece, fill a large glass bowl with cold water. Add to the water a few 
drops of lavendar food coloring. Next add four teaspoons baking soda and two tea- 
spoons citric acid, which may be obtained at very small cost at any drugstore. (Almost 
any proportions will work, so long as they are in sufficient quantities.) Now, drop a 
dozen or more moth balls into this solution. After a few minutes, they will begin to 
travel from the top to the bottom of the bowl. To add that finishing touch, float a 
daffodil blossom or two on top of your "fountain." Everyone will be curious and 
wonder if you have resorted to witchcraft. 

On each side of this centerpiece, near the ends of the table, place bouquets of 
fresh daffodils accented with a few twigs of pussy willow. 

Even this attraction won't satisfy sharp appetites. Let's serve ice-cream sundaes 
topped with pineapple, a maraschino cherry, and egg-shaped cookies decorated with 
bright-colored icings. 

Here's how to make an Easter bunny favor to place on the plate with the re- 
freshments. Join marshmallows together with toothpicks, using one for the head and 
two for the body, one for each leg, and a half marshmallow for each arm. Make ears 
from plain white paper and color the centers pink. Draw the face with blue and red 
food coloring. Make red crosses down the front to represent buttons. 

Serve these refreshments, along with your favorite beverage, on your festive table, and 
you will have an Easter party to remember! 

Page 177 

LKectpes Qjrora [Brazil 

Submitted by Asael T. Soreiisen 
Can j a (Brazilian Chicken Soup) 

i large fowl 1 sprig parsley 

1 tablespoon chopped onion 1 leek 

salt to taste chives 

1 tablespoon butter 2 carrots 

Clean the chicken and cut it in pieces. Saute the onion in the butter; add the 
chicken and simmer without letting it get too dark. Cover with water, add salt, parsley, 
carrots, chives, and leek. Cook until the chicken is tender, strain the broth through a 
sieve; remove bones and skin from chicken and cut it in 2-inch pieces. To about three 
and a half pints of broth, add i cup of well-washed rice. Let it cook, and, when nearly 
done, add the pieces of chicken and some salt, if necessary. The soup should be yel- 
low and not too thick. Remove fat, if there is too much. The rice cooks quickly. For 
more color, add one large tomato. 

Shrimps a Bahiana 

4 pounds shrimps 6 small tomatoes 

l tablespoon fat (preferably oil) Vi tablespoon flour 

l chopped onion Vi tablespoon butter 
parsley 2 small hot peppers 

Peel and clean the shrimps. Saute onion, tomatoes, and parsley in the fat; add 
shrimps and simmer. Melt the butter and flour; add I cup of water and pour this mix- 
ture over the shrimps. Boil for a few minutes. This dish is even better when the 
milk of one coconut is added instead of water. If you like it hot, add the two small 
hot peppers. Serve with rice. 

Feijoada Completa (Brazilian Dish of Black Beans) 

The day before the "Feijoada" wash several times in lukewarm water: 

2 pounds of salt pork 1 50 grams bacon 
2 pounds of dried meat (carne seca) 1 salted tongue 

2 pounds of seasoned Brazilian pork pork ears, tails, etc. 

sausage (linguica) 

(For a good "Feijoada" about 15 kinds of meat should be used.) 

Leave all meat covered with water overnight. Also wash 2 or more pounds of 
black beans, having picked out all empty shells or little stones that might be between 
them. Cover with water and let stand overnight. 

On the morning of the "Feijoada" put all the well-drained meat and the black 
beans in a big kettle and cover with the water they were standing in overnight; add two 
pounds of fresh pork meat and two pounds of fresh beef (neck). Let everything boil 
slowly for several hours, adding warm water to it occasionally until the black beans are 
well cooked. 

Melt two tablespoons of fat in a frying pan, add chopped onions, parsley, some 

Page 178 


tomatoes, 1 bay leaf, and two cloves of garlic, well mashed; take a small portion of 
the black beans with the skimmer-spoon and add them to this mixture. Saute every- 
thing, mash it with a rammer, and return it to the big kettle. Let it thicken, but be 
careful that it does not burn at the bottom of the pan. 

When ready to serve, carefully lift the meat out of the pan, carve it and arrange 
it on a big platter, the tongue in the middle, the dried and salted meat on one side, 
the fresh beef on the other. Serve the black beans in a soup tureen. Serve with rice, 
and small hot pepper sauce. Have peeled and sliced oranges on the table to go with 
the "Feijoada." 

To cook the rice: 

Pick the rice over and wash it. Brown 1 chopped onion, 1 clove of garlic, and 
from 1 to 6 tomatoes (according to size) in 3 tablespoons lard. Add the rice and stir 
it until it browns. Add boiling water (for 2 lbs. of rice about 8 cups of water) and 
let it boil on a slow fire for about Vi hour. When it is almost dry, cover the saucepan 
and let it boil a little longer. Take it off the fire. 


Catherine B. Bowles 

The quilt my Grandma gave to me — 

Gay patchwork made of tiny squares, 

Each block delightful to behold; 

Each held a story often told; 

Some patches were not made quite true, 

Uneven stitches, here and there. 

The hand was shaky, wrinkled, old, 

But the love she stitched cannot be told. 

Sometimes my searching mind 
Seems almost like the patchwork quilt. 
Some parts are made of love and cheer, 
With darker ones of doubt and fear; 
Some streaked with mildew from my tears 
Heartache and anguish through the years. 
Each day has left a silent trace, 
So clearly mirrored in my face. 

But the soul my Father gave to me 
Will live throughout eternity. 

JLife 0/5 JLtke a [Pattern 

Anne S. \V. Gould 

i IFE is like taking a journey, the scenery is always changing. We may have to go 
y* through the desert, but it doesn't always stay desert, and even in the desert there 
is some loveliness, if we are on the lookout for it. 

Strange Land of the Chiricahuas 

Nell Murbarger 

WITH their lofty summits ris- 
ing nearly 10,000 feet above 
sea level, the Chiricahua 
Mountains spring from the sur- 
rounding aridity like a moist and 
verdant island. Grown to ferns and 
flowers and tall evergreens, this un- 
usual retreat in southeastern Arizona 
is a far different place than one ordi- 
narily expects to find in a desert 
region only a few minutes drive 
from the Mexican border. 

Little changed physically since 
those rugged days of nearly a cen- 
tury ago, when these canyons 
served as a stronghold for the Apa- 
che war lords, Cochise and Geroni- 
mo, the Chiricahuas are still large- 
ly inaccessible save by steep, dim 
trails, and sure-footed mountain 
horses. Fortunately for auto travel- 
ers, the one improved road that 
crosses the range gives entry to the 
most scenic portion of the entire 
mountain chain — an area that em- 
braces so many unusual features that 
seventeen square miles of it were 
set aside by President Coolidge, in 
1924, as Chiricahua National Mon- 

Whether a visitor's interest lies 
in botany, bird study, geology, pho- 
tography, mountain climbing, or 
frontier history, this strange land 
has more to offer the vacationist 
than almost any other American 
area of comparable size. Regard- 
less of its other attractions, how- 
ever, its dominant feature must for- 
ever be its spectacular rock forma- 
tions. Carved by time and weather 
into thousands of fantastic shapes, 

Page 180 

these gigantic pillars rise like senti- 
nels above the enveloping forest, 
serrating the ridge-tops, overshad- 
owing the public campground, and 
flanking every mile of highway and 
hiking trail that winds through the 

To some of these sculptured 
forms have been given such de- 
scriptive names as Chinese Boy, 
Donald Duck, The Anvil, Baked 
Potato, Old Devil Face, Praying 
Padre, The Bishop, Trior's Ham- 
mer, The Old Maid, Kissing Rocks, 
Queen Victoria, Punch and Judy, 
Chinese Wall, and The Mushroom; 
but tens of thousands of other 
sculpturings are as yet unnamed. 

Of all the peculiar formations in 
Chiricahua National Monument, 
none possesses greater fascination 
than the scores of balanced rocks, 
the most spectacular one of which 
measures twenty-five feet in height 
and twenty feet broad, with a weight 
officially estimated at 625 tons! This 
gigantic boulder stands perched on 
a stem only four feet across at its 
point of contact, and the slightest 
earth tremor would be seemingly 
sufficient to send it crashing earth- 
ward. Two hundred yards and sev- 
eral hundred exclamations distant, 
stands Pinnacle Balanced Rock — 
twice as high as broad, but with a 
base little wider than a man's 

These balanced boulders, like oth- 
er formations in the Monument, 
are a result of erosive forces; and 
although no man can say how many 
hundreds of years have been re- 



Nell Murbarger 


quired for the carving of each rock, 
it is known that the weathering ef- 
fected in the span of one human 
lifetime is scarcely discernible to 
the eye. 

Although non-hikers can gain an 
impressive view of the Monument 
from the auto road and the lookout 
station at Massai Point, only per- 
sons with the stamina to hike or 
ride horseback for a few miles are 
privileged to view the "Heart of 
Rocks" area where the more un- 
usual formations are centered. 
Fourteen miles of wide, safe trails, 
gently-graded and well-maintained, 
offer matchless sightseeing trips 
ranging from three to seven miles 
in length. Guide service is optional. 

TV/IOST of the other attractions of- 
fered by the Monument may 
be enjoyed without any particular 
need for exertion. Flower lovers 

find themselves in a leafy wonder- 
land inhabited by more than 500 
species of plants and eighty botan- 
ical families. Included in this as- 
sortment are fourteen species of 
ferns, seven varieties of oaks, and 
nine different conifers, the latter 
embracing such unusual types as 
Arizona cypress, alligator-barked 
juniper, and the Apache, Chirica- 
hua, and Mexican pinon pine, all 
of which are of limited distribution 
in the United States. According to 
one botanical authority, the Chiri- 
cahuas likely contain a greater va- 
riety of plant life than is to be 
found in any other comparable area 
in the United States. 

The Monument also is especially 
rich in bird life, a few forms — due 
to long-established isolation — being 
unique to this region. The wild 
turkey, once plentiful here, is lately 
making a gallant comeback, and the 



thrill of hearing these great birds 
gobbling in the trees on a frosty 
autumn morning is an experience 
never to be forgotten! Rarest joy 
the Monument can offer to an 
ornithologist is the possibility of 
seeing the coppery-tailed trogon, a 
foot-long bird with rainbow-hued 
plumage. Even the thick-billed par- 
rot occasionally strays northward to 
the Chiricahuas from his traditional 
home in Mexico's forested high- 

In the animal line, the Arizona 
white-tailed deer abounds through- 
out the Monument, and does and 
fawns often come to drink at a 
spring near the public campground. 
Tracks of bears and mountain lions 
are occasionally seen in the higher 
elevations, and even the jaguar and 
handsome Mexican ocelot have 
been glimpsed. Smaller animals, 
such as squirrels and chipmunks, 
are plentiful. 

Tent campers and trailerists are 
served by a clean, well-maintained 
campground, providing abundant 
shade, roomy spaces, good water, 
tables, outdoor fireplaces, showers, 
and a laundry room. Limited ac- 
commodations for non-campers are 
available at several nearby guest 

ranches, where saddle horses and 
guides also may be obtained. 

Lying 120 miles east of Tucson, 
the Monument, from that point, is 
best reached via U. S. Highway 80, 
and State Routes 86 and 181; or 
north from Douglas (seventy miles) 
over U. S. 666 and State Route 181. 
All these routes are paved and of- 
fer no steep grades of mountain 

Just across the border from Doug- 
las (70 miles south of the Monu- 
ment) lies the Mexican city of 
Agua Prieta, Sonora, with its many 
interesting curio shops and quaint 
Old- World charm. American citi- 
zens, entering Mexico for one day 
only, need no passport or other per- 
mit, but non-citizens should dis- 
cuss the matter with United States 
immigration authorities before 
crossing the line and so avoid any 
difficulty that might attend their 
re-entry into the United States. 

Further information concerning 
this fascinating Arizona vacation 
area, may be had by writing the 
Custodian, Chiricahua National 
Monument, Dos Cabezas, Arizona; 
or the Chamber of Commerce, at 

QJtrst die raid 

Linnie F. Robinson 

The old, old lady held the child 
Close to the pane where the rain beat down; 
And they stared at the rivulets running swift 
On the dark and sodden ground. 

Then, looking closer, they saw some green, 
Scarce more than a blade of grass; 
The babe smiled as at a bauble seen, 
But a miracle to the other had come to pass. 

of he [Preparation and Serving of QJood 

for JLarge Leatherings 

Frank D. Arnold 

Sanitarian R. S., Salt Lake City, Utah, Health Department 

CHURCH dinners and picnics 
have long been recognized as 
an important means of rais- 
ing funds and promoting sociability. 
We, as Latter-day Saints, are fre- 
quently called upon to assist in the 
preparation and serving of dinners 
and other meals under a variety of 
circumstances. It may be a supper 
in the recreation hall, a picnic in 
the canyon, refreshments at a dance, 
or any one of a number of other 
events common within the activities 
of our Church. 

The preparation and serving of 
food to large numbers are often un- 
dertaken by the members of the 
Relief Society. Feeding large num- 
bers of people presents problems 
never encountered in feeding a 
family. Even the best of cafes and 
restaurants must be continually alert 
for a breakdown in standards of 
cleanliness and sanitation. Precau- 
tions can usually be incorporated 
into food planning without addi- 
tional expense. Whether the food 
is prepared in the home, in the ward 
kitchen, or elsewhere, certain safe- 
guards should be taken. 

Proper refrigeration is a must for 
safe food. Many cases of food poi- 
soning and related diseases are di- 
rectly traceable to improper refrig- 
eration. Harmful bacteria or germs 
grow very rapidly at room tempera- 
ture. They have a special liking for 
foods that are commonly served at 
social meals— chicken and turkey 

salads, a variety of ham dishes, dairy 
products, creamed foods, and cus- 
tard desserts. These foods should be 
kept at temperatures under 50 de- 
grees F. Never let such foods stand 
at room temperature more than an 

Dishes and utensils must be clean 
and free from germs. Every dish, 
every glass, and every utensil should 
be washed and disinfected. If pos- 
sible, dishwashing should begin as 
soon as the first course is completed. 
Silver, glasses, and dishes should be 
separated at the serving tables or in 
the dishwashing area. All dishes 
should be scraped before being 
passed to dishwashers. Plenty of 
soap or detergent should be used. 
Water should be hot as the hands 
can stand. It should be changed 

After washing, all dishes should 
be rinsed in hot water at 180 de- 
grees. This is hotter than the hand 
can stand, therefore, a wire tray or 
other container should be used for 
immersing the dishes. A second 
and equally satisfactory method of 
killing bacteria involves the use of 
chemical disinfectants such as the 
common household bleaches and 
other chlorine products. These sub- 
stances can be added in small quan- 
tities to the warm rinse water. Dish- 
es should be free of soap before be- 
ing immersed in the chemical rinse. 
One tablespoon of household bleach 
in each gallon of rinse water will be 

Page 183 



sufficient. Ten gallons of water re- 
quire approximately one teacup of 
sanitizing solution. 

TF space and facilities permit, dish- 
es should be allowed to air dry; 
otherwise, care must be taken to use 
plenty of dry, clean towels. 

Paper service may often solve 
your clean-up problems. Paper cups, 
dishes, plates, containers of all types, 
paper tablecloths, and napkins are 
obtainable in a wide variety of sizes 
and patterns. 

All food stored or displayed 
should be protected from dirt par- 
ticles. Dishes, glasses, and utensils 
must also be protected from dust, 
insects, and other contamination be- 
tween periods of use. If possible, 
they should be stored on covered 
shelves or in cupboards with doors. 
If they are stored for long periods 
they should be rinsed before use. 

Personal cleanliness is an im- 
portant factor in preventing the 
spread of disease by food. Clean 
hands are essential. Pick up spoons, 
knives, forks and cups by their 
handles; dishes by their rims; and 
glasses by the base. Never let your 
fingers touch milk, water, soup, but- 
ter, ice, meat, or dessert. Hair 
should be covered with a hairnet, a 
cap, or other restraining devices. 
White aprons or uniforms may be 
a worthwhile investment for the 
ward kitchen. 

Persons who have a cold or other 
catching diseases should not be al- 
lowed to prepare or serve food. 

All foods served must be clean 
and wholesome. Milk should be 
pasteurized. Meat should be from 
inspected sources. Vegetables and 
fruit must be clean. Bakery prod- 

ucts should never be stale. Care 
must be taken that the water used 
is clean and pure. 

Foods should be thoroughly 
cooked. Intense heat destroys bac- 
teria and other parasites. This is 
especially important with pork 
products. After the food is cooked, 
hot foods should be kept hot until 
served. If you use a steam table, 
do not let the temperature drop be- 
low 145 degrees F. 

Floor surfaces should be cleaned 
regularly. The good, old-fashioned 
broom is still best for sweeping and 
for chasing the dirt out of the 
corners. The use of a sweeping 
compound, or water lightly sprin- 
kled on areas to be swept, will keep 
dust down to a minimum. 

Refuse and waste of all kinds 
should be disposed of properly. 
Refuse, especially garbage, which is 
allowed to accumulate may soon 
constitute a fly or rodent nuisance. 
The method of disposal may vary 
from grinding by mechanical dis- 
posals to burying in the case of 
some outdoor picnics. Be prompt 
and be thorough in waste removal. 
The condition inside a kitchen may 
often be reflected by the conditions 
outside and around the kitchen. All 
garbage containers should be cov- 
ered with tight-fitting lids. 

HpHE fundamentals of clean food 
service should be applied wher- 
ever food is prepared, stored, or 
served. Apply these principles to 
your everyday activities to insure 
more healthful living for the entire 
family, and apply them when you 
are called to assist in the food serv- 
ice of your ward or stake. 



These hints for simplifying and speeding planning, preparation, and service have 
been gathered from authorities in the field of large-scale food service. Many are based 
on engineering and efficiency studies conducted by institutions and restaurants. You 
will find that if you follow these suggestions all your tasks will be easier and, more than 
probably, your meal will be a success. 

1. Plan, buy, and delegate duties well ahead of entertainment date. 

2. Keep number of committee members to the minimum necessary to get the job 
done. Too many "cooks" can spoil results. 

3. Make careful Preparation and Service Schedules and be sure all your workers 
understand them. 

4. Be business-like. Plan menu and calculate food costs and profits carefully. 

5. Select a menu suitable to the skills of your workers and the equipment available 
to you. 

6. Assume 3 or 4 kitchen workers for each fifty guests. 

7. Assume that each waitress can handle 8 to 10 people for a sit-down meal. 

8. Arrange kitchen so you have a center for each type of work — preparing vegetables, 
salads, desserts, beverages, etc. Put all foods, pans, spoons, ladles, serving dishes 
required for the task at each center. 

9. Reduce long reaches at work centers wherever possible by bringing materials and 
supplies close into working area. 

10. Try to have work surfaces of convenient heights so that neither stooping nor 
stretching will be necessary. 

11. Try to have the best equipment, such as good knives, scoops, chopping boards, 
slicing machines, etc. 

12. Make certain pots and pans used for cooking are large enough. 

13. Don't crowd roasting pans or fill cooking pots over three-fourths full. 

14. Keep all perishables in refrigerator until the last moment before serving. 

15. Do as much preparation work as possible in advance. 

16. If possible, serve through service windows or across a Dutch door to keep wait- 
resses out of the kitchen. One method is to put a table across the door between 
the kitchen and dining room and have kitchen workers place food on it to be 
picked up by servers. 

dioneifmoori Salad 

Francelia Goddaid 

A salad whets the appetite, 
It's also quite nutritious. 
The little bride can manage this 
And thinks it looks delicious. 

She blends the golden mayonnaise 
With purple cabbage shredded, 
And love takes up where skill leaves off 
To please her newly-wedded. 

Let's Have Fish 

Winnified C. Jar dine 
Food Editor, Deseiet News and Telegram 

SOME of the best eating ever 
to be had is from fish. De- 
licious of flavor, tender of 
eating, simple of cooking, fish 
should be included often in any 
meal plans. 

And not only is fish good to eat, 
but it is nutritious also. Fish is a 
high-quality protein, easy to digest. 
And most fish contains generous 
supplies of vitamins A and D; all 
fish are an excellent source of 

Fish should be purchased only 
from markets where it is kept well 
refrigerated, even while on display. 
Buy only the amount needed, and 
buy it as near the time of use as pos- 

After bringing fresh fish home, 
wrap it in waxed paper, and store it 
in the coldest part of the refrigera- 
tor until cooking time. Handle 
fresh fish as little as possible; 
handling bruises the flesh. 

Store frozen fish in the freezing 
compartment of the refrigerator un- 
til ready to prepare. Thaw frozen 
fish before cooking, either by keep- 
ing in the refrigerator, but out of 
the freezer unit for twenty-four 
hours, or by leaving it at room 
temperature for about two hours. 
Be sure to cook fish as soon as it is 

If possible, keep all fish from di- 
rect contact with ice; if it must be 
placed on ice, wrap fish carefully in 
waterproof paper. 

There are only a few basic ways 
of cooking fish — baking, broiling, 

Page 186 

frying, and "boiling" or poaching. 
Around these can be made many de- 
lightful variations. The important 
thing is to cook fish until tender and 
thoroughly done, yet not over- 
cooked. Fried fish should be crispy 
and brown, but not greasy. Baked 
fish should remain shapely. 

Extra care must be used in plan- 
ning menus around fish. Rich 
sauces should be used with lean fish, 
and acid or spicy sauces with fat 
fish. Mild-flavored vegetables should 
be combined with strong-flavored 
fish, well-flavored vegetables with 
mild fish. 

Watch textures in fish meals. 
Serve something crusty and 
browned, such as French fries; and 
include something raw and crunchy, 
such as cabbage slaw. 

And remember that most fish is 
bland in color, therefore serve 
bright-colored foods along with it, 
such as broccoli and carrots. 

And now for the cooking! 

To Bake Whole Fish 

Rub fish generously inside and 
out with salt and pepper. Fill lightly 
with any simple stuffing, sew up 
with string, and place on rack in 
baking pan. If desired, lay fish on 
a piece of cheesecloth or oiled parch- 
ment paper, so that it may be lifted 
and transferred to a hot platter more 
easily without breaking. 

Bake uncovered at 45o°F., allow- 
ing ten to fifteen minutes per 
pound. Baste occasionally with 
melted butter or salad oil. If de- 



Courtesy American Institute of Baking 


sired, protect the tail from burning 
by wrapping in waxed paper during 
baking process. 

How to Bake Fish Slices 

Arrange fish slices in greased bak- 
ing pan, sprinkle with salt, pepper, 
and lemon juice, and dot with but- 
ter or margarine. Bake uncovered 
at 400°F. for 20 to 30 minutes, or 
until tender. 

How to Broil Fish 

Clean fish and wipe dry. Broil 
small fish without splitting. Split 
medium-sized fish down back and 
remove bones. Cut large fish into 
fillets or steaks. 

Brush fish with melted butter or 
salad oil, sprinkle with salt and pep- 
per, then lay on a greased broil-and- 

serve platter, or on a greased shallow 
broiler pan. 

Turn over to broil and preheat 10 
minutes. Place broiler pan 2 inches 
below source of heat and broil fish 
until golden brown and well done. 
Do not try to turn fish for broiling 
the second side — it is too easily 
broken. If fish is not thoroughly 
cooked by the time it is brown, 
place the rack in a low position in 
the oven and finish cooking slowly. 

How to Pan-Fry Fish 

Clean and wipe dry whole small 
fish or slices or fillets of larger ones. 
Roll in flour that has been seasoned 
with salt and pepper; cook in a 
small amount of shortening in a 
heavy frying pan until brown on 
both sides, turning carefully with a 



spatula. Fish is done when it flakes 
from bone easily when tested with 
a fork. 

How to Oven-Fry Fish 

Clean pieces of fish and wipe. Dip 
into milk which has been salted, 
then into fine dry bread crumbs or 
finely crushed cornflakes. Arrange 
in well-greased shallow baking pan. 
Spoon a little melted butter or cook- 
ing oil over the pieces, then bake 
at 5oo°F. for 10 to 15 minutes, or 
until well browned and done. Serve 

How to Poach or "Boil" Fish 

Poached fish is cooked in liquid 
that is definitely below the boiling 
point until tender— about 10 min- 
utes per pound. The liquid used 
may be water with 1 teaspoon salt 
and 1 tablespoon lemon juice or 
vinegar added for each quart, or it 
may be half milk and half water. 
When the fish is done, some of this 
richly flavored broth is used for part 
or all of the liquid in making egg 
sauce or other sauce to serve with 
the fish. 

Baked Creamed Fish Fillets 

tbsp. flour 

salt and pepper 

tsp. dry mustard 

c. light cream or top milk 

c. chopped pimiento, if desired 

c. buttered bread crumbs 

tbsp. minced parsley 

Cut fillets in serving pieces. Place in greased, shallow baking dish; sprinkle with 
salt, pepper, paprika, and lemon juice. Make white sauce of butter, flour, seasoning and 
milk; stir in pimiento. Pour over fillets. Sprinkle with crumbs and parsley. Bake at 
35o°F. for 35 minutes. Makes 6 servings. 

2 pounds fish fillets 


(cod, sole, halibut, 

haddock, or other) 


% tsp. salt 


dash pepper 


% tsp. paprika 


juice of 1 lemon 


2 tbsp. butter or margarine 

Crispy Fried Pike 

6 serving-size pike fillets 
sour milk 

biscuit mix 
2 tbsp. butter 
2 tbsp. shortening 

Place pike fillets in a shallow pan or dish. Pour enough sour milk over fillets to 
cover. Allow 1 tsp. salt for each pound of fish. Let stand 20 to 45 minutes. Drain. Dip 
each fillet in dry biscuit mix. Melt butter and shortening in heavy skillet. Cook fish in 
shortening until well browned and slightly crisp on one side, turn, and repeat on second 
side. Makes 6 servings. 

Broiled Fillets au Gratin 

2 packages frozen or 3 lbs. 

fresh brocoli 
\Vz to 2 lbs. thawed quick-frozen 

or fresh cod or haddock fillets 

2 tsp. lemon juice 

2 tbsp. butter or margarine 

Vi c. milk 

Vi lb. processed American cheddar 
cheese, grated (2c.) 



Preheat broiler 10 minutes. Cook broccoli until just tender. Arrange fillets side 
by side in greased shallow baking pan. Sprinkle with lemon juice and dot with butter. 
Broil 2 inches below heat, without turning, 8 to 10 minutes or until easily flaked with 
fork but still moist. Meanwhile, in double boiler, heat milk with grated cheese until 
smooth sauce is formed. Transfer fish to i2x8-inch baking dish. Arrange broccoli over 
fish; pour sauce over all. Place low in broiler and broil until golden. Makes 6 servings. 

Jellied Salmon Loaf 

2 tbsp. (2 packages) 

unflavored gelatin 
Vi c. cold water 
Vz c. boiling water 

2 c. cooked or canned salmon 

2 tbsp. vinegar or lemon juice 

Soak gelatin in cold water. Add boiling water and stir until gelatin is dissolved. 
Combine with remaining ingredients and pour into loaf pan or individual salad molds. 
Chill until firm. Unmold and slice or serve on lettuce leaves. Serve with lemon 
wedges. Makes 6 to 8 servings. 

1 c. mayonnaise 
Vi tsp. salt 

l A tsp. pepper 

2 tbsp. catsup 

2 hard-cooked eggs, chopped 

12 sliced stuffed olives 

Maryland Deviled Crab 


tbsp. butter 

tbsp. flour 

c. light cream or top milk 

beaten egg yolk 

c. crab meat 

tbsp. Worcestershire sauce 

tsp. prepared mustard 

Vz tsp. salt 

few grains pepper 
1 tsp. finely chopped onion 
1 tbsp. finely chopped green pepper 
1 tsp. lemon juice 

!4 c. buttered bread crumbs 

Melt butter, stir in flour. Add cream and cook until thick, stirring constantly. Add 
small amount of hot liquid to egg yolk, then stir egg into remaining hot mixture. Add 
crab meat and seasonings. Cook 3 minutes, stirring constantly. Add onion, green pep- 
per, and lemon juice. Fill greased shells or ramekins with hot mixture. Top with but 
tered crumbs and sprinkle with paprika. Bake at 400 °F. until crumbs are brown, about 
10 minutes. Makes 4 servings. Double recipe for baking in casserole. 

Stuffed Halibut Steaks 

2 halibut steaks, 1-inch thick 
2 c. dry bread crumbs 

1 tsp. salt 

2 tablespoons onion juice 

4 c. melted butter 
1 tbsp. chopped parsley 

1 lemon, juice and grated rind 

2 cans vegetable soup 

Wipe steaks clean. Combine bread crumbs, salt, onion juice, butter, parsley, and 
lemon juice and rind. Spread the dressing between steaks, then place stuffed steaks in 
a greased pan. Pour undiluted vegetable soup over steaks and bake at 35o°F. for about 
30 minutes. 

Delicious Tartar Sauce 

Vi c. mayonnaise 
!4 tsp. dry mustard 

generous sprinkle of garlic and 
onion salts 
1 tbsp. catsup 

!4 tsp. tabasco 

1 tsp. vinegar 

4 or 5 minced medium stuffed olives 

1 minced gherkin 

2 tbsp. chopped parsley 

Combine all ingredients and serve with fried, broiled, or baked fish, 
enough sauce for 3 or 4 servings. 


cJhe LKugged LKug uiookers 

Geneve Houlihan 

TO the women, yes, and men, too, who have chosen rug hooking as a hobby or a vo- 
cation, the results are just the same — a beautiful product and a money saver, be- 
cause many hours are needed to complete a fair-sized rug or a picture for the wall. 

We attended our first class in hooking rugs over twenty years ago. This was during 
the depression days, when one was supposed to make something-from-nothing or make-do 
with what you had. We made our own frames from pieces of scrap lumber, our hooks 
were made from a nail driven into a handle, carved by hand out of a block of wood; 
the head of the nail was cut off with a hacksaw and filed to make a hook. The ma- 
terial used, preferably wool, was generally out of scrap bags, and believe me, they were 
very lean in those days. The rugs were hooked on burlap, originally a bag that had 
been carefully washed, starched a little, and the design drawn on with crayola, then 
lightly gone over with a warm iron to set the design. We cut the strips of material by 
hand about one-third of an inch wide. The proof of the sturdiness of these rugs is the 
fact that many of them are still in use. 

As time went by, the bad times turned to good, but not for long. The second 
world war came along and wool material for rug making was again hard to get. We 
found the salvage stores stocked old wool clothing, but we did not purchase wearable 
garments to cut up, unless we found a certain number of moth holes in them. No 
one ever looked so gleefully for moth holes, as the women did in those days. Needless 
to say, the rugs hooked during this trying time didn't wear too well. 

The known history of rug hooking in Utah goes a long way back. Many years ago 
in a sheep-raising community in Utah, the women of the Relief Society were at a loss 
for carpeting for the floor in one of the Church buildings.. They found a solution. 
After the shearing of the sheep, there was always wool left hanging onto the bushes and 
barb-wire fences. The women gleaned this wool. It was in such small pieces that 
carding was not practical, so they left it as it was, but dyed it into bright colors from 
dyes made from natural resources, berries, leaves, and brush — dyes which resembled 
those the Indians used for Navajo rugs. They hooked these small pieces of wool into 
a beautiful design. This carpeting is a lasting reminder of the wonderful spirit of true 
ingenuity and thrift. 

Rug hooking is used extensively in the veterans' hospitals as a great therapeutic 
for the disabled. It is a wonderful pick-up for anyone. The short intervals of spare time 
during a busy day of a housekeeper, can be made pleasant and useful with a rug and 
material close by to hook on, even though it be only for a few minutes at a time. 

The modern rug-making workshop of today consists of cutters or strippers, which 
cut strips five or more at a time and as narrow as one-eighth of an inch. The material 
can be bought new. In hooking flowers and other designs, one needs from six to eight 
shades of each color, which may be bought or dyed at home to give a spotty effect. 

The current trend is the reproduction of scenes, such as Currier and Ive's prints, 
hooked into spectacular pictures for the wall. For our first attempt at hooking a pic- 
Page 190 



ture, we selected one of a New England covered bridge. We hooked it in brownish-red 
shades, with snow-tipped evergreens, a brown horse hitched to a red sleigh, snow-capped 
mountain peaks in the background, a rustic fence, and the trees hooked in such a man- 
ner that the perspective looked like three dimensions, and so lifelike that people seeing 
it wanted to touch it. 

Although progress has found new methods, and attractive floral and scenic patterns 
on burlap are readily available, rug hooking is quite an art. There is still a great 
deal of satisfaction in creating your own designs, and digging into the scrap bag and 
coming up with a useful as well as a pretty rug. 



The rug was made in a pattern taken from a photograph of a New England covered 
bridge. Wool material cut in one-eighth inch strips was used to make the rug. It was 
hooked in weather-beaten red and brown shades, repeating the browns in the trees and 
fences. The evergreens, of course, were in green, snow-capped. The field stone under- 
pinnings were toned in shades of gray. The picture does not show the different shades 
of color used to distinguish the mountains from the sky. The little houses in the dis- 
tance were made in bright red, capped with snow. The little brook was done in gray 
and aqua shades. The sleigh was bright red, the horse brown, with a black harness. 
Mother and Father, in the sleigh, were dressed in gay colors, and the robe over them 
was bright green. 

(garden Jriccents 
Elizabeth Williamson 

A/fOST gardens are lovely to look at, borders of well-kept flowers and 
shrubs, paths leading to a summerhouse or pool. But how often do 
your friends exclaim as they are walking down these paths, except to give 
the ordinary compliments of "How lovely, how pretty, so orderly!" These 
remarks are like a stew without seasoning, good, but not very exciting. 

With a few unexpected accents in your garden, you will watch your 
friends stop short and say "What a delightful surprise! I didn't know you 
had a flair for such things." 

With a little ingenuity and planning, accent spots can be made, and 
you can have much pleasure and satisfaction in designing and making them. 

A Miniature Pool 

A small pool may be made from a big rock which has a natural depres- 
sion or it may be a small, bean-shaped pool made of cement. The pool 
may be placed in a group of azaleas, surrounded by water plants and grasses, 
papyrus, miniature bamboo, or a bit of ground clover and mosses. Azaleas 
are especially suitable because they like the shade and filtered sunlight, and 
the shady places in your garden need the most accents. Otherwise, they 
often go unnoticed. 

An Unusual Border 

In a shady border, a patch of brilliant yellow flowers may be backed 

by gray succulents, dusty millers, Artemisias, and wormwood. 


Three huge pots of bright pink geraniums may be placed at the corner 

of the garage. 

A Bird Bath 

Use a small concrete or stone bird bath or statue as the center of 
interest in one of your borders. Put in a ground cover of Ajuga or creeping 
thyme and add ferns of different heights to build up to a grouping of low 
pines or dwarf maples. 


Pale pink begonias seem to belong under an old oak tree. They give 
a nice accent to the gray-brown texture of the tree trunk. 

Page 192 




Azaleas can be used in rows of color. Starting with white, add rows of 
lavender, pale magenta, deep purple, pale pink, rose, red, flame, and deep 
red. The effect is dramatic and is noticed instantly, whereas a mixture of 
colors may do nothing at all to our color perception. 

Ward Linton 


Note the garden accents of potted plants and hanging basket, 
matches the shape of the patio and its design as well. 

The unusual pool 

IlLultiple uiobotes uielp f/lary (Jidda Smith 
to 1 1 Lake (cytners Criappy 

MARY Hilda Smith, a member of the Houston Second Ward Relief Society, in the 
Houston (Texas) Stake, uses her many creative hobbies to, make others happy and 
to fill her life with useful handicrafts. She makes rugs and quilts, bedspreads and 
tablecloths, afghans, and many articles of unusual and exquisite crochet designs. The 
hooked rugs at the left in the picture are of strikingly attractive design and workman- 
ship, but they are unique for other reasons as well. Mrs. Smith sheared the sheep, 
carded the wool, dyed the yarn, and then hooked these beautiful rugs. 

Many people who appreciate handicrafts and fine workmanship visit the Smith 
home to see the articles which both Mr. and Mrs. Smith have made to beautify their 
home. The tabic at the left in the picture was made by Mr. Smith from the glass 
bowl of a gasoline pump. He also made another table from a handmade bread tray 
given to Mrs. Smith's mother as a wedding gift. Mrs. Smith makes many beautiful 
articles for the Relief Society bazaars, and among other gifts, she donated an exquisite 
Dresden-plate quilt. A convert to the Church, she is an outstanding Relief Society 
worker and is loved and admired by all who know her. 

Vi/here Sweets ^/Lre 

MaryhaJe Woolsey 

Plant a row of clover anywhere; 
In blossomtime the golden bees will find it. 
Or spill some sugar; ants will soon be there. 
Unerring instinct seems to mastermind it. 

Should it be wrong or strange, if children are 
As quick and sure to reach the cookie jar? 

Page 194 

There Is Still Time 

Chapter 2 
Margery S. Stewart 

Synopsis: Elizabeth Anderson is dis- 
turbed by a strange dream in which she 
sees herself and her friends walking on 
crutches which crumble away. She tells 
the dream to Brent, her husband, and 
explains to him that something is lacking 
in their family life, a spiritual oneness. 
Brent, however, is so interested in mak- 
ing money, that he has no wish to under- 
stand Elizabeth's plea. Returning from 
an early morning drive to the beach, Eliza- 
beth sees the Los Angeles Temple under 
construction, and the building seems to 
symbolize her aspirations and her long- 
ing for a more complete life. 

ELIZABETH sat down on the 
unfinished temple steps. She 
had children who received 
the highest grades in their classes 
and were spiritual illiterates. A 
snatch from an overheard conversa- 
tion ran through her mind. 

"What are you supposed to be, 
Donna? Daniel in the lion's den?" 

Donna emerging from her blan- 
ket, "Who was Daniel? Who was 
Daniel, Johnny?" 

Johnny, loftily, "Some guy in his- 
tory who got into a den of lions, of 

Donna ecstatically, "What hap- 
pened to him?" 

"They ate him, of course. What 
a dummy!" 

"Train up a child in the way he 
should go: and when he is old, he 
will not depart from it." But all 
her friends were doing such a won- 
derful job with their youngsters . . . 
such lovely manners, sometimes any- 
way, such clean little bodies . . . 

such attention to abstract ideas of 
social consciousness. 

Elizabeth stood up. She had 
picked up a stone and she weighed 
it in her hand. Then, why was it 
that they were having such trouble 
with their youngsters when they 
reached their teens? Jean's boy, 
Lynn, now . . . stealing cars . . . 
when he had only to ask to have one 
of his own . . . thrills they wanted. 
Betty's beautiful little daughter 
Ann . . . just sixteen . . . and . . . 
Elizabeth shuddered. What could 
you feed a growing child to still the 
hunger in his heart, to put his feet 
in careful paths. She had waited all 
this time for Brent. 

Brent hadn't liked to go to meet- 
ing. It had held no charm for him. 
His quick, seeking mind had been 
always on a monetary goal which he 
pushed up from year to year as he 
ascended closer to his heart's desire. 
And I, thought Elizabeth, felt in- 
adequate to try and train the chil- 
dren, so I have done nothing either. 

Let me be honest with myself 
.... I waited because it didn't mean 
enough to me .... I didn't know 
how to begin. I leaned on Brent . . . 
wanted him to start me. But she 
knew, suddenly, that the time was 
long wasted and the hour bitterly 
short. But how could she go home 
to four wise young faces and say, 
"I'm going to start teaching you 
about God?" How could she teach, 
when she, herself, was ignorant? 

Haun's Mill . . . Nauvoo . . . 

Page 195 


Carthage . . . the names stood up 
tall in her mind. Elizabeth threw 
the stone away from her and turned 
toward the car. They would all 
simply have to learn together. 

'PHE children were at breakfast 
when she came in. They sighed 
audibly with relief. 

"I was just about ready to call 
the police. What an idiotic thing 
to do, go tearing off when it's still 
dark." Brent's voice was harsh with 

"You took my car!" Elaine lifted 
accusing eyes. 

Johnny glowered. "You went on 
an adventure without us." 

"You left me alone!" Donna 
wailed, "all ... all alone. I could 
have been kidnapped." 

"Such a tender homecoming," 
Elizabeth said acidly. The morn- 
ing's mood was abruptly shattered. 
The usual biting irritation took pos- 
session of her. "Johnny! Your 

Brent tossed a letter to her. 
"Read that if you will." He pushed 
his plate away. "What a day! It's 
starting out like all the others . . . 
except I had no sleep." 

Elizabeth picked up the letter. 
She read it swiftly. It was from 
David, Brent's brother. "Does he 
mean he is actually telling your 
mother to leave his house?" 

Brent scowled. "After all the 
money I've paid him to take care of 
her. Now he's making money hand 
over fist and wants me to take her." 


He slammed down his napkin. 
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said 
that. You know yourself our house 
is too small. We've no room. Moth- 


er and I never did get on well to- 
gether. David was always her pet." 

Elizabeth folded the letter over 
and over. "I'll put Johnny down- 
stairs in the rumpus room. Elaine, 
you and Jennie can share her room." 

Shrieks of fury rose from Elaine 
and cries of delight from Jennie. 
"Ha ... ha, smartie! You're not 
going to be so big any more." 

Elaine's tears flowed freely. "I'd 
rather die than have to live with her 
and her frogs and worms and . . . 
and crickets." 

Elizabeth covered her ears. "All 
right! All right! I'll move Donna 
in with Jennie, and you can have 
Donna's room." 

More shrieks and moans resound- 

Brent pounded on the table. 
"Silence!" He glared at Elizabeth. 
"You see how it is now . . . before 
she's even come. Think of the mad- 
house when she gets here. You 
know Mother. She's got to have 
her finger in every pie and her own 
say so about every situation. We 
can't do it. It's too much." 

Elizabeth was silent until he was 
finished, and the children turned 
to her questioningly. 

"I want to do it, Brent." She was 
surprised at the firmness of her 
voice when inside she felt so weak. 
"I want to do something that is 
hard and right to do." She looked 
at the children. " 'Honour thy father 
and thy mother.' Those are more 
than words. They are meanings on 

Brent stared at her open-mouthed. 
"You'll never make it," he said at 
last, but much of his force was 
gone. "Just take it from me, you'll 
never make it." 



"But I can try?" 

"Sure, you can try, but . . . ." 

Elizabeth turned back to the 
children. "We'll all have to open 
our hearts a little wider, as well as 
our house. Are you willing?" 

"Why . . . yes." Elaine looked a 
little dazed. 

"Sure." Johnny was eager. 

Brent looked at his watch. "Got 
to be going. What's come over 
you, Eliza?" 

She lifted her face for his kiss. 
"I've got some muscles to strength- 
en .. . moral fibre . . . Granddad 
would call it." 

HpHERE was a little silence when 
he had gone. The youngsters 
finished their breakfasts. 

"I gotta go now," Johnny said. 
"Promised Nick I'd meet him at 
the playground." He squirmed out 
of his chair. 

"Wait." Elizabeth wet her lips. 
"Sit down a minute, Johnny. Don't 
go, the rest of you." 

"Aw, gosh!" Johnny slid back 
into his place. 

Elizabeth lifted her eyes to them. 
Her voice was low and gentle, 
"What do you know about God?" 
she asked. 

The children were embarrassed 
and silent. 

She turned to Elaine appealingly. 
"You should know something . . . 
you went to Sunday School." 

"When I was six," Elaine said 
scornfully. "Should I remember 
from when I was six?" 

"He lives in the sky ..." Donna 
ventured. "Marion told me that he 

"They had a real good play about 
him once on TV. It was at Easter 

time." Johnny twisted about in his 
chair. "Remember? I asked you 
about him then . . . only you were 
too busy." 

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth said. "1 
was wrong. I want to teach you 
about him now. I thought we'd 
start with his Son. I'll tell you 
about his birth . . . and . . . and 
we'll go on from there." 

"Aw, I heard it a'ready ... at 
Christmas at school," said Jennie. 
"I'm going to get my guns." 

Elizabeth said very clearly. "You 
will remain in your place until I 
have finished speaking . . . and . . . 
we've said our prayers." 

"Prayers!" They stole glances at 
one another. 

"Prayers," said Elizabeth firmly. 
"But now I'll start with the story." 

She told it quietly, trying to re- 
member every part of it, the man- 
ger, the star, the shepherds . . . 
Mary . . . "About Elaine's age she 
was, set apart, gentle, gentle as a 
dove and radiant . . . carrying under 
her heart the promise of all the 
generations that had been and all 
that were yet to come." 

They listened raptly, the room 
was very still. 

"... and Joseph was warned in 
a dream and fled away into Egypt 
with the little, new baby and Mary, 
his mother, and the cruel king did 
not find him, however thirstily he 

They were all silent when she 
finished, the deep hush still on 
them. Elizabeth slipped to her 
knees and after an awkward moment 
the children followed her. Her 
prayer was short and stumbling. 
Then she rose and began to gather 
up the dishes. The children stole 



away. Donna came to kiss her and 
Elaine hesitated beside her. 

"Are you going to do this every 

"Yes," said Elizabeth strongly, 
but her knees trembled. 

"I just wondered. I think it's 
awfully good for Donna and Jennie 
and Johnnie." 

"Do you really? You'll help me, 

Elaine gave one of her brief, daz- 
zling smiles. "I certainly will. 
Goodbye now, I've got a date to 
play tennis with Bill." 

"Bill Barker?" Elizabeth could 
not keep the concern out of her 

Defiance flared up in Elaine's 
lovely dark eyes. "So? What's 
wrong with Bill Barker?" 

"Darling . . . I've heard things." 

"All right. You've heard things. 
Point me out a perfect boy around 
here. You know them all. A per- 
son has to have somebody." 

"You'll be home around twelve?" 

Elaine flounced away. "Yes, I'll 
be here. Honestly, the way people 
around here keep tabs on a person." 

Matilda waddled in. "Here, I'll 
clear up the table, Miss Anderson." 

"No, I'll finish. I wanted you to 
work on the upstairs." 

"You want I should change the 
rooms around?" 

Elizabeth threw up her hands in 
defeat. "I guess there isn't much 
around here you don't know about, 

"I can get my Jim to carry the 
beds around." 

"An excellent idea." 

Matilda hesitated. "Is she peace- 
ful like? Your mother-in-law?" 
Elizabeth sorted the silver. She 

chuckled. "Grandma Anderson 
weighs just one hundred pounds . . . 
all of it energy. She likes to work, 
and she likes to talk . . . and she 
rather likes taking charge of things." 

Matilda smoothed her apron. 
"Not of my kitchen she don't." She 
scowled. "I been in homes where 
they is too many bosses." 

"We love you," said Elizabeth, 
her heart sinking as the picture of 
a long line of replacements flashed 
before her mind, "but you're free 
as air, you know that." 

"I know that," maintained Ma- 
tilda stoutly, "I just want to make 
sure that you knows that." 

TT was on a September morning 

that Grandma Anderson moved 
in. She came by plane, courtesy of 
David, wearing an orchid, gift of 
her daughter, Alice, and began talk- 
ing from the top step of the stairs 
they moved against the plane. 

". . . Upon my soul and body, I 
never was so scared! They shouldn't 
let these things off the ground 

Elizabeth could only catch phras- 
es as she moved down the stairs, a 
tiny little woman with short curly 
white hair under a black sailor. She 
tried to hold on to her purse and 
gather all four grandchildren in her 
arms at once. Her glasses tipped 
askew, her hat rocked back, and 
her purse opened and spilled its 

"Mother! For pity's sakes!" 
Brent got down on hands and knees 
to retrieve pennies and nickels and 
mints and pencils. 

"Oh, Brent, that was clumsy of 
me .... Well, as I was saying . . . 
Brent, you're too thin . . . much too 
thin " 



She turned this way and that, 
peering up into their faces, her 
words tumbling over each other. "I 
hear you have a cook now, Eliza- 
beth. Fancy that! The talk of 
Beaver. Johnny looks peaked, too." 
She took her grandson's face in her 
hands, looked accusingly from him 
to Elizabeth. "It's just a good 
thing that I came, that's all I have 
to say." She seized upon Elaine. 
"Prettiest thing I ever saw ... all 
Anderson . . . every bit of her." 

Brent protested, laughing. "She's 
the spit and image of Elizabeth at 
her age, and you know it." 

Elizabeth met Brent's meaningful 
glance calmly. She would not be 
ruffled by Grandma Anderson. Per- 
haps, she thought, she believes I'm 
her enemy. Perhaps she's been con- 
juring pictures up in her mind all 
the way down here of cruel things 
I'll do to her. How do I know 
what goes on in the mind of a little 
old lady, who's been pushed out of 
one son's house? 

Brent took his mother firmly by 
the arm, led her to the car. "We're 
having a dinner tonight, Mother, a 
lot of people whose friendship I 
really need. Watch it, will you?" 

"A big dinner!" Grandma And- 
erson was instantly atwitter. "Well, 
you know how I love company! 
Maybe I could bake up a pie or 
two . . . nothing like homemade 
apple pie, I always say." 

Brent opened his mouth, his face 
darkening, but Elizabeth rushed in- 
to the tiny pause. "What a wonder- 
ful idea, but I was saving you to 
help me with the flowers. No one 
has a touch quite like yours." 

For an instant Grandma Ander- 
son faltered, pleased and flushed. 

"Well, I declare, I'm glad to hear 
someone admit it. Honestly, the 
way people poke flowers into vases 
chills my blood ... I declare it 
chills my blood." 

"Chills my blood," Johnny re- 
peated under his breath. Elizabeth 
saw his face grow bright with inter- 
est. He moved closer to walk be- 
side his grandmother. His admira- 
tion was shared with equal fervor by 
Jennie. Donna had been captured 
from the start. "I get to sit by 
Grandma all the way home." 

They drove up to drop Brent off 
at his office. "Goodbye, Mother." 
He kissed her, turned a worried 
frown to Elizabeth. "Remember 
the Ames' are coming tonight. You 
know his nod means I'll get that 
tract of homes to build." 

Elizabeth tried to reassure him 
with a smile, unable to interrupt 
the steady flow from the back seat. 

". ... So I told your father, he 
was ten at the time, that if he ate 
the green apples he would get sick 
and get a whipping at one and the 
same time, and he did. Your fa- 
ther was one wild little Indian . . . 
and his report cards!" She lifted 
her eyes heavenward. 

Johnny lifted startled eyes to his 
father's face. "Gee whiz! You 
mean Dad was just like me!" 

Brent frowned. "Now remem- 
ber, Mother, I don't want any part 
of my history related to the guests 
tonight. Give someone else a 
chance to talk." 

Grandma Anderson settled her 
hat more firmly on her head. "Land 
sakes alive, Son! If people want to 
talk they got to fight for the privi- 
lege same as I do." 

(To be continued) 

From The Field 

Margaret C. Pickerings 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. 


Photograph submitted by Lovell W. Smith 

DISTRICT BAZAAR, November 19, 1955 

Front row, seated, left to right: Jean P. Hyder, President, Royal Pines Branch; 
Mamie Crisson, President, Marion Branch; Kathleen White, President, Gastonia Branch; 
Grace Bradley, President, Cherokee Branch; Helen Dibbens, First Counselor, West 
North Carolina District; Myrtle Dixon, President, West North Carolina District; Irene 
Dixon, Secretary-Treasurer, West North Carolina District; Ruth Wilson, President, 
Statesville Branch; Mary Snead; Sister Thompson, Cherokee Branch. 

Sister Myrtle Dixon reports: "This was the first activity for the district as a 
whole. Each Relief Society in the district had its own display booth and displayed 
many lovely articles. Especially outstanding was the display of our good Lamanite sis- 
ters from Cherokee, who were organized about a year ago. Sister Helen Dibbens, the 
district work meeting supervisor, was in charge of the bazaar. The Relief Society district 
presidency served approximately one hundred twenty-five people to a turkey dinner." 

Lovell W. Smith is president of the Central Atlantic States Mission Relief Society. 

Page 200 



Photograph submitted by June Baggett 


September 27, 1955 

Left to right: Kathryn Squire, Education Counselor; Nanna Ord, Magazine repre- 
sentative; Elna Bybee, chorister; June Baggett, President; Martha Green, Work Director 
Counselor; Lenna Cowdell, Secretary; Ada Nelson, work meeting leader; Norma Greene, 
literature class leader. 

Sister Baggett reports: "The theology class leader, Florence Ferguson and the 
social science leader did not go with this group, but did attend conference. Zenneth 
Johnson, organist, was unable to go because of illness. We had eleven enrolled and ten 
attended the conference." 

.:■ ' • ■ ... ■:-.....'.' 

Photograph submitted by Eleanor T. Nielsen 


November 1955 

The chorister, Marion Hadley, stands sixteenth from the left in the front row 
(wearing dark dress); Lettice Rich, the organist, stands third from the right in the 
front row. 

The following wards are represented in this chorus: Ogden Twenty-ninth, 
Fortieth, and Forty-eighth; North Ogden First and Second Wards; and the Pleasant 
View Ward. 

Eleanor T, Nielsen, President, Ben Lomond Stake Relief Society, comments: "This 
photo was taken in the new tabernacle, and we feel it an honor to have been asked to 
sing in such a wonderful edifice." 



Photograph submitted by Elaine B. Curtis 


Left to right: Flora J. Gibbs, Work Director Counselor; Emma Jean J. Duke, Presi- 
dent; Bishop George Richard Hill; Maxine L. Cook, quilting chairman; Peart S. Ash- 
ton, Employment Placement Counselor; LaPreal R. Martindale, Secretary-Treasurer. 

This lovely quilt, with more than six hundred names embroidered in its pattern, 
was presented to Bishop Richard Hill and his wife Melba P. Hill, at the climax of a 
successful bazaar. 

Elaine B. Curtis is president of Cottonwood Stake Relief Society. 

Photograph submitted by Rhoda Thorpe 


Front row, seated, left to right: Ramona Jessop returned missionary; Delilah Lar- 
son; Etta Jenson; Hidvie Anderson; Marion Jessop; Katie Pehrson; Donna Scott; Leah 

Second row, seated, left to right: Leone Garr; Aloma Hammond; Loretta Ander- 
son; Hannah Iverson; Martha Hale; Mary Nielson; Viola Hill; Thelma Jessop; Helen 



Back row, standing, left to right: May Jessop; Jenny Hovey; Alta Jessop; Verla 
Olson; Elva Vogel; Dorella Bott; Florence Olson; Norma Monson; Connie Knowles; 
Jane Jessop; May Pehrson; Nona Shaffer. 

Rhoda Thorpe is president of Hyrum Stake Relief Society. 

Photograph submitted by Leona P. Boyce 


Front row, seated, left to right: Evelyn Teetsell, chorister; Mable Bryan, organist; 
Ruth Bird, First Counselor; Leona Boyce, President, North Tooele Stake Relief Society; 
Maud Groscost, Second Counselor; Delpha Hall, Secretary. 

Photograph submitted by Marteal W. Hendricks 



DISTRICT CONFERENCE, December 11, 1955 

Front row, seated, left to right: Catherine Hein; Rhea White; Loretta Durbin; 
Beth Davis, District Relief Society President; Marteal H. Hendricks, President, West 
Central States Mission Relief Society; Helen Madson, chorister; Hazel Loomis, ac- 

Second row, left to right: June Stanley; Mary Dalton; Dona Marie Lallatin; Yvonne 
Morgan; Lois Lowham; Sophronia Bertignole; Velma Birch; Evelyn Mangus; Jean 



Third row, left to right: Doris Williams; Lucille Egley; Gloria Meyers; Verda Lari- 
more; Bernice Hunter; Beth Burnett; Leola McClellan; Geneva Drollinger; Sue Jergen. 

Photograph submitted by Florence C. Christiansen 




Front row, seated, left to right: Lottie Tanner, Counselor; Mattie Miles, President; 
Lena Brown, Counselor; Verda Stoddart, Secretary. 

Florence C. Christiansen is president of Blackfoot Stake Relief Society. 

Photograph submitted by Opal W. Broadbent 


Nancy Stevens, chorister, stands at the left on the first row; Ida Taylor, organist, 
stands at the right on the first row. 



Pnotograph submitted by Emily S. Romish 


Front row, seated, left to right: Deaun Weed, Secretary; Elva Jenks, Education 
Counselor; Ruth Hinckley, President; Alice Olsen, Work Director Counselor; LaVon 
Bower, work meeting leader. 

Back row, standing, left to right: Ruth Thacker, visiting teacher message leader; 
Grace Lewis, Magazine representative; Barbara Hendrickson, literature class leader; Julia 
Robbins, social science class leader; Levon Dalton, theology class leader; Marie McCul- 
lock, chorister; Rosalie Talbot, organist. 

This ward organization reports a most successful activity program: "The new 
Twentieth Ward Relief Society began functioning in January 1954, with fifty-four 
members on the initial roll. Now, at the beginning of 1956, there are seventy mem- 
bers enrolled. The highest attendance at one time was fifty-four women and forty-two 
children. We employ a baby sitter regularly. The organization has forty visiting 
teachers who have maintained one-hundred per cent records for several months. Also, 
the Singing Mothers, a group of sixteen, have performed beautifully. 

"Our activities have been numerous and joyous, to name some: several cooked 
food sales and rummage sales have been sufficiently successful to finance us through 
each year .... Through the year each woman in our ward received a card on her birth- 
day. Our welfare dinners, storehouse assignments, quilts, and other activities have added 
to our experiences. At present our ward meets in a building a mile and a half from our 
homes, so our transportation problem has hindered our attendance. Our ward families 
are young couples with small children, so our efforts in this work have seemed great 
accomplishments and choice experiences that have united us in a true sisterhood." 

Emily S. Romish is president of West Pocatello Stake Relief Society. 


Ida Isaacson 

The corner that you choose to weep in 

Seems solitary, bare; 

But you are not alone, my dear, 

For God is near, and understands despair. 


Three Part 




Calvary— Rodney 22 

Christ, the Lord, Is Ris'n 

Today — Erb 16 

God So Loved the World— Stainer .12 

Hosanna— Granier 20 

Hosanna! Blessed Is He— Marryott .18 

Hymn For Easter— Templeton 20 

Legende— Tschaikowsky 20 

Message of the Bells— Pohlmann.. .20 

Our Christ Has Risen— Connor 25 

The Palms— Faure 22 

Unfold, Ye Portals— Gounod 14 

Music Sent on Approval 
Use this advertisement as your order blank 


15 E. 1st South 

Salt Lake City 11, Utah 

Please send the music indicated above. 

,□ On Approval □ Charge 

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Name , 


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Lrut on Lfour C^a*/ 

Jennie E. Graham 

\ T Grandfather's death we left the 
■** farm in the Wasatch Valley and 
moved to Provo, Utah, in a very dignified 
part of the city. But Grandmother, bless 
her heart, put on her sunbonnet and went 
calling on the doctor's wife and the 
lawyer's wife. She was so quaint and 
sweet and soon had the neighborhood 
friendly. They watched for her sunbon- 
net as she hung out her clothes on a Mon- 
day morning, and, if they did not see it, 
they would call to see if she were ill. 

When she was asked to go Relief So- 
ciety teaching and walk long blocks, as we 
did not own a car, and she was in her 
late sixties, I thought it rather difficult for 
her. But when Grandmother was ill and 
could not go teaching each month, young 
married men would come to the door and 
ask how she was. They came early in 
the morning so they could take the word 
back to their wives before they left for 
work. They said they had missed her, 
and she had made a place in their hearts 
with her smile and had helped them so 
much rearing their little families. (Grand- 
mother had had sixteen babies of her own 
and had found room to take me, a wee 
granddaughter, into her home and heart 
at the death of my mother.) The men 
said they always made it a point to be 
home when she would be coming. Then 
I knew how wise the officers had been in 
choosing her for a Relief Society visiting 

How well I remember how worried she 
was on her return from one of her visit- 
ing teacher trips. One sister who lived 
across the street from the chapel felt she 
could not attend the Relief Society meet- 
ing as she washed on Mondays and ironed 
on Tuesdays, and it would upset her 
household too much. 

Grandmother felt the sister should go, 
as the lessons were on child care and, as 
a young mother, she could make the very 
best use of the material. So, after Grand- 

Page 206 



mother had thought and worried about it 
for a few days, she solved the problem by 
sending me to watch the children and do 
the ironing while the mother attended 
Relief Society meeting. 

One spring when school was out after 
I had been teaching in Southern Utah, 
one of the other teachers said she must 
be all packed and ready to go home as 
soon as her mother came for her, as they 
had to be back in Provo for a very special 

As the family arrived, we teachers all 
pitched in to help load the car and get 
them off, and as we worked we visited. 
The mother said it was a Relief Society 
meeting which was to be held that night 
in the Fourth Ward of Provo, and she 
was to be put in as Relief Society presi- 
dent. But there was only one thing she 
wished, and that was that the dear sister 
who had helped her to attend Relief So- 
ciety could be there, so she could thank 
her for the joy and happiness that she had 
found while working in the society. She 
went on to tell us that the sister had even 
sent someone to tend the children and do 
her ironing so she could go to her first 
meeting, as she thought she could not up- 
set her family, as she washed on Mondays, 
and ironed on Tuesdays. Then she added, 
"And I am so ashamed now when I think 
of it, for I only lived across the street 
from the chapel." 

When she said her visiting teacher's 
name was Sister Lindsay, I told her she 
was speaking of my Grandmother, Sarah 
A. Lindsay, and that I was the grand- 
daughter she had sent to do the ironing 
and watch the children on that first day. 

We had a good cry, and she said, "Oh, 
if she could only be here tonight to see 
me made president of the Fourth Ward 
Relief Society, and I could thank her for 
this wonderful blessing that has come into 
my life, this happiness that is mine be- 
cause one dear sister was willing to take 
her visiting teacher calling to heart and do 
such a good job." 

Oh, how we have missed that gingham 
sunbonnet through the years. Many of her 
neighbors have asked for the pattern of 
her sunbonnet. 

There has never been a more faithful 
member of royalty wearing a golden crown 
who has done more sincere work for her 
"King" than this daughter of Zion who 
wore with such a sweet smile a gingham 


Christie Lund Coles 

I sought the place again, 
Where my youth ran, 
But the road so spacious then 
Was but a rod's span; 

The steeple and the old, 
Time-rusted bell, 
Were little like the tall 
Memory I knew well; 

The fingered apple tree 
Beside whose root 
My lips once tasted sweet 
Bore meager fruit; 

And yet, the poplared street 
By which I came 
Was silver in the sun, and 
Caught my breath the same. 

uielptng uiands 

Delia Adams Leitner 

The little hands so helpless 

That clasp your own today; 

The little feet uncertain 

That trust your leading way — 

You feel in their dependence 

To guide them and protect them 

Till they are strong and free. 

The years are swift in passing — 
Like reels of film they go; 

Time comes when aging footsteps 
Are tottering and slow; 

It may be in that distance 

When your own strength shall fail 
These hands will keep you steady 

Along life's sunset trail. 


cJhe aTome on the uitil 

Alyce O. Nelson 

heard today that the house on the hill is being torn down and carried away. Just as 
fast as I could, I walked to the place that was my home. 

The path to the house was overgrown with weeds; the grass was trying hard to 
cover the spots that were dry; and yet, around the edges, the daffodils were poking their 
golden heads through, as they had always done this time of the year. 

I looked to find a certain tree, but there was only a stump. Where were the 
limbs and branches, especially the one that had grown just for the purpose of holding 
a swing? I visualized the rope, with knot tied tightly, that held us when we went high 
into the air. 

I tried to find the pansy bed and the sweet-smelling violets. They used to be by 
the lilac bush — but that was withered and dry. I walked to the side door, just to see 
if on the porch there might be a tricycle, bicycle, or a little red wagon with a reading 
on the side, "Big Ben." In such a wagon we used to scoot down the hill, but it 
was not there. 

Through the glass in the window, I saw my mother setting the table. She was 
humming a tune. It would not be long now until Father would be home from his 
work. I remember his face always wore a smile and he had a pat on the shoulder for 
me and my brother — a kiss for my mother and sister Sue. 

The old-fashioned parlor looked the same, and there was the fireplace; the embers 
from the coals beckoned me to come and sit, as we used to do in the days of long ago. 
So many things, I imagined, were just the same — the horsehair sofa, with a chair on 
each side, the platform rocker where Mother rocked us and sang sweet lullabies. 

In the center of the room there was a marble-topped table, an album with pictures 
of relatives, and an old-fashioned hanging lamp that was the pride of us all, which shed 
such a mellow light when it was pulled down low. I could see the walls lined with 
enlarged pictures, the faces sober, never a smile; Grandfather so stern, Grandmother 
so frail and small. 

Just then there was a bang and a loud noise. The wreckers shouted, "Out of the 
way!" But I had to hurry upstairs to see the bedrooms. 

The largest room belonged to Father and Mother; the little room to the right 
was mine; across the hall my brother slept. That room was a joy to me as I used to 
sneak in to see the maps which hung on the wall. The books on the table and the 
round ball of the earth were all mysteries to me. 

The prettiest room was my sister's; white Swiss curtains that blew so far with each 
gentle breeze that came when the windows were lifted high. Everything was dainty. 
I could see my sister sitting there at the dresser brushing her shining yellow hair. 

As I stood wondering, a workman shouted for me to get out of the way, to leave 
before the roof fell in. 

I had to hurry down the stairs, out the front door. They could tear the house 
down, carry it all away, but they could not take all these memories from me — for this 
dear old house and the place where it stood will always be "Home, Sweet Home" to me. 

Page 208 


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:*«■■& %ifoJm«~t>*>*>s->. * 

VOL 43 NO. 4 



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 

Anna B. Hart Evon W. Peterson Alberta H. Christensen Edith P. Backman 

Edith S. Elliott Louise W. Madsen Mildred B. Eyring Winniefred S. 

Florence J. Madsen Aleine M. Young Helen W. Anderson Manwaring 

Leone G. Layton Josie B. Bay Gladys S. Boyer Elna P. Haymond 

Blanche B. Stoddard Christine H. Robinson Charlotte A. Larsen Annie M. Ellsworth 

Mary R. Young 
Editor - __________ Marianne C. Sharp 

Associate Editor - - Vesta P. Crawford 

General Manager ------____ Belle S. Spafford 

Vol. 43 APRIL 1956 No. 4 


on tents 


The Resurrection LeGrand Richards 212 

The British Mission Preston R. Nibley 218 

Relief Society Assists in Welfare Program for Marysville — Yuba City Flood 

Alice I. Ferrin 226 

A Temple Will Be Built Mabel L. Anderson 235 

Cancer — A Check-Up and a Check Sandra Munsell 244 

The Relief Society Magazine — "A Messenger" Emily C. Pollei 254 

Trouble Celia Luce 256 

Fear Is a Habit Anne S. W. Gould 257 

Alternate 89 Willard Luce 262 

Happiness Now Wilma Boyle Bunker 265 

The Aspen Grove Vernessa Miller Nagle 266 

New Vistas Jennie Brown Rawlins 277 


A Full Hive Dorothy Clapp Robinson 220 

To You, Beloved Lois E. Fockner 230 

Lesson From Letty Arlene D. Cloward 245 

The Day Before the Wedding Dorothy Boys Kilian 258 


There Is Still Time — Chapter 3 Margery S. Stewart 267 


Sixty Years Ago 238 

Woman's Sphere Ramona W. Cannon 239 

Editorial: A Woman and Her Garden Vesta P. Crawford 240 

Leone O. Jacobs Resigns From the General Board 241 

Notes to the Field: Brigham Young University Leadership Week 242 

Book of Mormon Reading Project 242 

Hymn of the Month 243 

Notes From the Field: Relief Society Activities Margaret C. Pickering 272 

From Near and Far 280 


Typical British Recipes Elaine Reiser 248 

Old-Fashioned Flowers in Modern Gardens Dorthea N. Newbold 250 

Ella Randall Lewis Pieces Quilts for Happiness 257 

A Use for Old Screens Elizabeth Williamson 279 


To a Child Gardening — Frontispiece Maryhale Woolsey 211 

"Before Your Beauty," by Christie Lund Coles, 216; "Blessed Easter," by Remelda Nielsen 
Gibson, 217; "Lift Your Eyes," by Mabel Law Atkinson, 225; "Springtime Finds the Canyon," 
by Evelyn Fjeldsted, 234; "Now Spring," by Dorothy J. Roberts, 237; "Before Night-Shadows 
Fall," by Maude O. Cook, 243; "Heartsease," by Beulah Huish Sadleir, 244; "Remember 
Today," by Daphne Jemmett, 253; "Her Gift," by Delia Adams Leitner, 256; "The Kingbird," 
by Ethel Jacobson, 261; "Sacred Ground," by Ida Isaacson, 265; "April-Fingered," by Eva 
Willes Wangsgaard, 271; "Palomino," by Maude Rubin, 276; "Circle," by Catherine E. Berry, 
278; To the Relief Society Visiting Teachers," by Hazel Jones Owen, 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 unsolicited manuscripts. 

only the finest "bucilla" quality 

This group includes cross stitch, 
lazy daisy designs, and cut- 
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for crochet . • . instructions for 
Crochet and color charts included. 

A« Finished hem in cross- 
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design, pair 2.79 

B. Cross stitch and lazy 

daisy hemstitched for 

crocheting. pair 1.98 

C. Cutwork with lazy 
dai sy. pair 1.98 

0. Lazy Daisy hemstitched 
for crocheting, pair 1.98 

Second Floor 

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Please include 20tf for each pair ordered. 
Utah residents add 2% State Sales Tax. 

C/o a Lshild (gardening 

Maryhale Woolsey 

Make smooth the bed in which the seed shall lie— 
This small brown plot of earth that claims your toil; 
Clear out the stones, and break the rough, hard clods, 
And finely sift the dark and humid soil. 

(Dream, child, of tall bright flowers, and the day 
You'll take to Mother-dear a fine bouquet.) 

Deep go the roots (and not the plant's alone!) 
And lightward rise the questing leaf and stem, 
Taking in turn, of soil and sun and rain, 
The contributions growth demands from them. 

(Watch, child; tend well— and learn, as seedlings grow 
To blossomed strength, much you will need to know.) 

Far stretch the days— to you, so endless-long! 
Tall shining noons and phantom dreaming nights 
Will try your patience, mystify your mind— 
And bring at last your harvest of delights. 

(Learn from your garden, child, how God and you 
Co-operate to make a dream come true!) 

The Cover: Big Ben and Parliament Square, London, England 
Photograph submitted by Elaine Reiser 

Frontispiece: Amaryllis, Photograph by Ward Linton 

Cover Design by Evan Jensen 

The Resurrection 

Elder LeGrand Richards 
Of the Council of The Twelve 

OF all the blessings and priv- 
ileges the gospel of Jesus 
Christ has to offer its faith- 
ful members, the promised resurrec- 
tion from the dead is one of the 
greatest, for it opens the door to an 
eternal association with loved ones 
and friends, which condition we 
have the capacity to understand and 
appreciate at least in part. 

Jesus was the greatest character 
who has ever lived upon the earth, 
for he was not only the Creator of 
this world, but of "worlds without 
number" (Moses 1:33), and he 
came into the world of his own free 
will and choice, and gave his life 
to atone for the sins of the world, 
so that what man lost through the 
transgression of Adam he might re- 
gain through Christ's great atoning 
sacrifice. Hence the words of the 
Apostle Paul: "As in Adam all die, 
even so in Christ shall all be made 
alive" (I Cor. 15:22). 

The angels proclaimed the birth 
of Jesus as Israel's promised Mes- 
siah; he demonstrated in all his 
teachings and the miracles he per- 
formed, that he was the Son of 
God, and that all power was given 
unto him in heaven and upon earth, 
even the power to lay down his life 
and take it up again (John 
10:17-18). But the final proof of 
all his claims came when the stone 
was rolled away from the door of 
the sepulcher, notwithstanding the 
presence of the Roman guard, and 
his body came forth after three 

Page 212 

days, as he had said, and when the 
women approached the sepulcher 
and found the stone rolled away, 
and "found not the body of the 
Lord Jesus," they were much per- 
plexed, and two men stood by them 
in shining garments and said: 
"Why seek ye the living among the 
dead? He is not here, but is 

When the women reported this 
experience unto the apostles "their 
words seemed to them as idle tales, 
and they believed them not." (See 
Luke 24:1-12.) 

Even though Jesus had told his 
apostles that: "The Son of man 
must be delivered into the hands 
of sinful men, and be crucified, and 
the third day rise again" (Luke 
24:7), they could hardly believe. 
How then could the world be ex- 
pected to believe? "That we should 
live again is no more a miracle than 
that we live at all." 

Upon receiving the report from 
the women, Peter "ran unto the 
sepulchre; and stooping down, he 
beheld the linen clothes laid by 
themselves, and departed, wonder- 
ing in himself at that which was 
come to pass" (Luke 24:12). 

As the apostles were gathered to- 

Jesus himself stood in the midst of 
them, and saith unto them, Peace be 
unto you. But they were terrified and 
affrighted, and supposed that they had 
seen a spirit. And he said unto them, 
Why are ye troubled? and why do 
thoughts arise in your hearts? Behold 



my hands and my feet, that it is I myself: 
handle me, and see; for a spirit hath not 
flesh and bones, as ye see me have. 

And when he had thus spoken, he 
shewed them his hands and his feet. 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 honey- 
comb. And he took it, and did eat be- 
fore them (Luke 24:36-43). 

Without his body of flesh and 
bone, Jesus would not have eaten 
the fish and honeycomb. What 
greater proof could he have given 
of his resurrection? 

pOLLOWING his resurrection, 
Jesus "shewed himself alive after 
his passion by many infallible 
proofs, being seen of them forty 
days " 

And when he had spoken these things, 
while they beheld, he was taken up; and 
a cloud received him out of their sight. 

And while they looked steadfastly to- 
ward heaven as he went up, behold, two 
men stood by them in white apparel; 
Which also said, Ye men of Galilee, why 
stand ye gazing up into heaven? this same 
Jesus, which is taken up from you into 
heaven, shall so come in like manner as 
ye have seen him go into heaven (Acts 
1:3, 9-11). 

It seems incredible that, in the 
light of this plain and convincing 
evidence of his resurrection, "by 
many infallible proofs" lasting over 
a period of "forty days," that men 
should believe today that Jesus is 
a spirit or essence everywhere pres- 
ent, which would imply that he had 
died a second death, that his spirit 
and body were again separated, else 
how could he be now but a spirit? 

It was in this glorified, resurrect- 
ed body that Jesus appeared unto 

the Nephites in the land of Ameri- 
ca (See 3 Nephi 11), and unto Jo- 
seph Smith while he was but a 
boy, in the woods on his father's 
farm at Palmyra, New York. 

To further prove that the resur- 
rection would come to all men be- 
cause Jesus was victor over death 
and the grave, the graves of many 
who slept were opened following 
his resurrection, and they came 

And the graves were opened; and many 
bodies of the saints which slept arose. 

And came out of the graves after his 
resurrection, and went into the holy city, 
and appeared unto many (Mt. 27:52-53). 

If the resurrection were to be but 
a spiritual resurrection, as some 
teach and believe, there would have 
been no need of the graves having 
been opened, and this account 
would not have stated: "and many 
bodies of the saints which slept 
arose." Thus the bodies and spirits 
were again united. 

The Lord revealed unto the 
Prophet Joseph Smith that when 
the body and spirit are separated, 
they cannot receive a fulness of 
joy. "For man is spirit. The ele- 
ments are eternal, and spirit and 
element, inseparably connected, re- 
ceive a fulness of joy; And when 
separated, man cannot receive a 
fulness of joy" (D. & C. 93:33-34). 

There were also those who were 
resurrected among the Nephites in 
America, following Christ's resur- 
rection (3 Nephi 23:9-13). 

That is why Paul tells us that 
Christ was the "firstfruits" of the 

"But every man in his own order: 
Christ the firstfruits; afterward they 



that are Christ's at his coming" 
(I Cor. 15:23). 

\17E should mention his second 
coming to which the apostle 
Paul refers. 

All through his earthly ministry, 
Jesus looked forward to, and taught 
his disciples of his second coming: 
his parable of the five wise and five 
foolish virgins. "Watch therefore, 
for ye know neither the day nor the 
hour wherein the Son of man com- 
eth" (Mt. 25:1-13). 

His declaration: 

When the Son of man shall come in 
his glory, and all the holy angels with 
him, then shall he sit upon the throne of 
his glory: 

And before him shall be gathered all 
nations: and he shall separate them one 
from another, as a shepherd divideth his 
sheep from the goats (Mt. 25:31-32). 

His disciples fully understood 
from his teachings that he would 
come again. When "he sat upon 
the Mount of Olives," they "came 
unto him privately, saying, Tell us, 
when shall these things be? and 
what shall be the sign of thy com- 
ing, and of the end of the world?" 
(Mt. 24:3). 

Of course, they had reference to 
his second coming, for he was 
already with them. And while Jesus 
gave them many signs of his com- 
ing, he informed them: 

But of that day and hour knoweth no 
man, no, not the angels of heaven, but 
my Father only. 

But as the days of Noe were, so shall 
also the coming of the Son of man be 
(Mt. 24:36-37). 

Then we have his final testimony 

as he stood trial before the chief 
priests and elders: 

But Jesus held his peace. And the high 
priest answered and said unto him, I 
adjure thee by the living God, that thou 
tell us whether thou be the Christ, the 
Son of God. 

Jesus saith unto him, Thou hast said: 
nevertheless I say unto you, Hereafter 
shall ye see the Son of man sitting on 
the right hand of power, and coming in 
the clouds of heaven (Mt. 26:63-64). 

When John, the beloved apostle 
of our Lord, was banished upon 
the Isle of Patmos, the angel of the 
Lord showed him many things 
from before the foundation of the 
world to the winding up scenes 
when we would have a new heaven 
and a new earth, and among other 
things, he was shown the coming 
of the Savior according to his prom- 
ise, and the resurrection of the 
worthy dead at his coming; when 
Satan would be bound for a thou- 
sand years: 

. . . and they lived and reigned with 
Christ a thousand years. 

But the rest of the dead lived not again 
until the thousand years were finished. 
This is the first resurrection. 

Blessed and holy is he that hath part 
in the first resurrection: on such the sec- 
ond death hath no power, but they shall 
be priests of God and of Christ, and shall 
reign with him a thousand years (Rev. 

What a promised privilege to the 
faithful! Think of being associated 
with Christ in his ministry for a 
thousand years with our resurrected 
bodies, while he is overcoming all 
his enemies, and preparing his king- 
dom to be delivered unto his 
Father, as Paul explains: 



Then cometh the end, when he shall 
have delivered up the kingdom to God, 
even the Father; when he shall have put 
down all rule and all authority and power. 

For he must reign, till he hath put all 
enemies under his feet. 

The last enemy that shall be destroyed 
is death (I Cor. 15:24-26). 

TF we had the capacity to under- 
stand the magnitude of these 
promises, it would seem that none 
should falter, but that each would 
so live that he would be worthy to 
have part in the first resurrection, 
and that we would all do all in our 
power to help our loved ones and 
friends to live to be worthy of these 
blessings, remembering the words 
of our Savior: 

* . . . strait is the gate, and nar- 
row is the way, which leadeth unto 
life, and few there be that find it" 
(Mt. 7:14). 

Because, as the apostle Paul tells 

But the natural man receiveth not the 
things of the Spirit of God: for they are 
foolishness unto him: neither can he 
know them, because they are spiritually 
discerned (I Cor. 2:14). 

It is because the natural man can- 
not understand the things of God 
that we read such statements as 
this: In Senator Albert J. Bev- 
eridge's book, The Young Man and 
the World, the Senator quotes the 
following statement made to him 
by a man whose name is known to 
the railroad world as one of the 
ablest transportation men in the 
United States: "I would rather be 
sure that when a man dies he will 
live again with his conscious iden- 
tity, than to have all the wealth of 

the United States, or to occupy any 
position of honor or power the 
world could possibly give." 

Measured by this man's appraisal, 
how rich and favored we are, for 
this is common knowledge to a 
Latter-day Saint. 

From a revelation to the Prophet 
Joseph Smith, we read: 

When the Savior shall appear we shall 
see him as he is. We shall see that he 
is a man like ourselves. 

And that same sociality which exists 
among us here will exist among us there, 
only it will be coupled with eternal glory, 
which glory we do not now enjoy (D. & C. 


\\7E have never seen a person who 
has been clothed with "eternal 
glory," but the Prophet Joseph 
Smith described such a man, Mo- 
roni, who appeared to him. After 
giving a detailed description, he 

Not only was his robe exceedingly 
white, but his whole person was glorious 
beyond description, and his counte- 
nance truly like lightning. (See P. of G. 
P., Joseph Smith 2:30-32.) 

When the angel of the Lord 
showed John the Revelator, while 
banished upon the Isle of Patmos, 
so many wonderful things, John was 
so impressed with his personage, for 
he had been endowed with "eternal 
glory," just as Moroni had, that he 
fell down to worship at the feet of 
the angel: 

Then said he unto me, See thou do 
it not: for I am thy fellowservant, and 
of thy brethren the prophets, and of 
them which keep the sayings of this book: 
worship God (Rev. 22:9). 

Thus this angel, and Moroni, 



were real men of the brethren who 
had lived upon the earth, and had 
been resurrected, and were continu- 
ing in the service of the Lord, as we 
will all be privileged to do, if we 
are faithful; and the same "social- 
ity" which exists among us here will 
exist among us then. 

The Prophet Isaiah saw the time 

when we would have a new heaven 
and earth, and declared: 

For, behold, I create new heavens and 
a new earth: and the former shall not be 
remembered, nor come into mind . . . and 
they shall build houses, and inhabit them; 
and they shall plant vineyards, and eat the 
fruit of them. 

They shall not build, and another in- 
habit; they shall not plant, and another 
eat; for as the days of a tree are the days 
of my people, and mine elect shall long 
enjoy the work of their hands. 

They shall not labour in vain, nor bring 
forth for trouble; for they are the seed 
of the blessed of the Lord, and their off- 
spring with them (Isaiah 65:17, 21-23). 

Note how Isaiah makes plain the 

fact that "they shall build houses, 
and inhabit them, and they shall 
plant vineyards and eat the fruit of 
them." Who shall do all this? 
Families, of course, just as they do 
now, for as Isaiah stated: "they are 
the seed of the blessed of the Lord, 
and their offspring with them." 

This is, therefore, a continuation 
of family organization after the res- 
urrection, in this new world, a truth 
the Lord has made so plain through 
his revelations to the Prophet Jo- 
seph Smith, in this new gospel dis- 

What a glorious day it will be, 
therefore, when the trump of God 
shall sound, if we are worthy to 
come forth in the morning of the 
first resurrection, to receive and be 
united with our loved ones, when 
the graves are open and they come 
forth through the power of the 
atonement wrought for us by the 
Redeemer of the world (D. & C. 

{Before Ljour Ujeauty 

Christie Lund Coles 

April, I stand bereft before your beauty, 

Knowing my meager words can never capture 

The prodigious, white beauty of this plum tree, 

The air as delicate as unvoiced rapture; 

The morning like a veil of marquisette, 

Lifting to show a day all opal-hued; 

The bird-song, rhythmic as a minuet; 

The briefly, white-starred grasses, green-renewed; 

For words are for the young and the audacious, 

Those who believe all things are for the taking, 

Time sets its seal, makes one more sagacious . . . 

Silence is in me, intricate and aching. 

All I can bring you, world, after your sleeping, 

Is this sudden trembling, and this weeping. 

A Perry Picture 

From a Painting by Golz 

[Jolessed toaster 

RemeJda Nielsen Gibson 

He came forth from the tomb 
With animated breath, 
And proved that in earth's room 
One sheds the cloak of death. 

Symbolic now as then 
Is resurrection's key- 
All dead will rise again 
To immortality! 

Page 217 

Qjlfie [British 1 1 Li 


Pieston R. Nibley 

OEBER C. Kimball, a member of the first Quorum of the Twelve, wrote 
the following in his history: 

On Sunday, the 4th day of June, 1837, the Prophet Joseph came to me, while I 
was seated in front of the stand, above the sacrament table, on the Melchisedek side 
of the Temple in Kirtland, and whispering to me said: "Brother Heber, the spirit of 
the Lord has whispered to me; 'Let my servant Heber go to England and proclaim the 
gospel, and open the door of salvation to that nation' " (Life of Heber C. Kimball, by 
Orson F. Whitney, page 116). 

The above event, it might be said, marks the beginning of the British 
Mission. Heber C. Kimball responded to this call and made his way to 
England, with six of his brethren who had volunteered to accompany him. 
These brethren were Orson Hyde, Willard Richards, Joseph Fielding, 
John Goodson, Isaac Russel, and John Snyder. They arrived in Liverpool 
on July 20, 1837. After remaining there a few days, they proceeded to 
Preston, where Elder Joseph Fielding's brother, Reverend James Field- 
ing, was located. Reverend Fielding offered the missionaries an oppor- 

Josef Muench 


Page 218 



Josef Muench 


tunity to speak in his chapel, and accordingly, they held three meetings. 
Within ten days after their arrival in Preston, they baptized eight persons 
who had been members of Reverend Fielding's congregation. These first 
converts were: George D. Watt, Charles Miller, Thomas Walmesley, Ann 
Elizabeth Walmesley, Miles Hodgen, George Wate, Henry Billsbury, 
Mary Ann Brown, and Ann Dawson. 

The missionary work was soon extended to neighboring towns and 
cities in England, and before the close of the year 1837, ^ ne membership 
of the Church in the British Mission numbered over 300. The work has 
continued unabated since that time, and more than 130,000 converts have 
entered the waters of baptism in the century that has passed. England, 
Scotland, Wales, and Ireland comprise the British Mission. There are 
today eighty-four branches of the Church with 9,239 members. Elder 
Clifton G. Kerr is now president of the British Mission. A site for 
a temple has been selected and dedicated by President David O. McKay, 
at New Chapel, twenty-four miles south of London. Eighty-one Relief 
Society organizations were reported in December 1955, with 1103 mem- 
bers. Irene Pack Kerr presides over the British Mission Relief Society. 

A Full Hive 

Dorothy CJapp Robinson 

THE closing of the front door 
after Henry ripped the smile 
from Adrianne's face. She 
bit her lip, hard, but her back stif- 

"He thought I believed him." 
No, each had made a pretense, she 
admitted, but each knew this for 
the thing it was. If anyone else 
had done it to her— but, Henry! No 
matter how kindly meant, the sting 
of his words would never leave her. 
Never. After all these years — at 
her age — most things she could 
take in her stride, but having life 
yanked from beneath her was not 
one of them. Not since Steve her 
husband had been so swiftly and 
unexpectedly snatched from her, 
had Adrianne known such bitter, 
cankering despair. She reviewed 
her recent talk with Henry. 

"Has my work suffered?" She 
had tried for a light note but had 
not made it. 

"You are not being let out, Ad- 
rianne. " Henry Woodward's voice 
had trailed to a tired note. "Do 
you think this is easy for me?" 

But she hadn't been thinking of 
him. "Then why are you doing it. I 
couldn't help breaking my ankle." 

"Your accident has nothing to do 
with the situation. Believe me. I 
do appreciate the unselfish service 
you have given the company these 
many years." Service, indeed. She 
had created her position. "I am 
merely asking you to adjust to a 
new situation," Henry was continu- 
ing. "You can refuse, that is your 
privilege. We are getting older, 

Page 220 

and sharper minds and more nimble 
fingers are needed. I have turned 
the active management over to Fer- 
ris and I must— I am going along 
with his policy." 

Still she was not thinking of 
Henry, nor of what the change must 
mean to him. "You say I am not 
being let out but . . . ." 

"It had to come, Adrianne. Greta 
Hansen is good, really good. She 
has a foundation for the work that 
you and I do not have. She is up 
on the new methods. She will car- 
ry the responsibility you have car- 
ried for so long, but she will still 
have the benefit of your judgment 
and experience. That is, if you de- 
cide to stay with us." 

But the new situation would not 
last long, Adrianne thought. She 
was being eased out for certain. 

It was so unfair. She had started 
working for Henry Woodward when 
u Woodies ,J had merely meant sign 
painting. She had helped make 
"Woods" one of the best advertis- 
ing agencies in the state. She had 
put in many, many more hours and 
months than she had been paid for. 
During the depression, when Henry 
was fighting so hard to hold his 
business, she had taken her check 
when and as she could get it; and 
that was at a time when her own 
children were needing her more 
and more. Once she had even re- 
fused a larger salary from a compet- 
ing company. 

"Getting older. How old does 
he think I am?" The question 
trailed into silence. Henry knew to 



a day how old she was. She and 
Alice, his wife, had been born the 
same day. He had given up active 
management under doctor's orders, 
but she was as good a worker as she 
had ever been, better in some ways. 
Fifteen— twelve, even ten years from 
now she might have expected this, 
but today— now! She would refuse 
to accept it. Work under Greta 
Hansen — never. She knew the 
merchandise and idiosyncrasies of 
each company they worked with. 
She knew the type of advertising 
copy they wanted— or did she? 

"I made a mistake by going to 
Verna's last spring/' Adrianne spoke 
aloud. It had given Greta her 
chance. She had brought in Whist- 
lers, a much desired account. Per- 
haps, Adrianne admitted grudging- 
ly, it had been the novelty of Greta's 
idea that had tipped the scales in 
favor of "Woods." Adrianne re- 
membered that she had thought 
the idea too drastic. 

But even had Adrianne known, 
she would still have gone to help 
Verna. What else would a mother 
do when her daughter was seriously 
ill? Henry had urged her to go, 
and Alice had come to the house 
and packed her bags, and had tried 
to allay her fears. 

"Verna is young," Alice had said. 
As if youth meant everything; but 
Adrianne admitted that in Verna's 
case it had meant the power to win 
the battle. 

Maybe, Adrianne thought, I 
should resign and save face. 

"DUT what of finances? If she 
went back, her salary would 
probably be a mere pittance com- 
pared with what she had been get- 

ting. Of course each of her boys 
had asked her to come live with 
him and Verna had asked, and real- 
ly meant it. I'd make a wonderful 
baby-sitter and all-around flunky 
like so many grandmothers I know, 
Verna thought. 

"Oh, forgive me," she whispered 
hurriedly. She loved her grandchil- 
dren devotedly and buying for them 
was the sweetest fruit of her earn- 

But how could she quit? Her 
savings, hoarded over the years, 
amounted to a pitifully inadequate 
sum for retirement. When the 
company had first begun to expand 
Henry had urged her to buy stock, 
and he had urged her many times 
since. She had bought some and 
had received some as bonuses but 
she had very little now. There had 
always been so many places for 
every dollar. Even with the help 
the boys gave as they grew up, it 
had been nip and tuck to keep 
ahead of expenses. 

And after the boys were married 
there had been crises when her help 
was needed, Dan's medical school- 
ing and Bill's long sickness and 
there had been a million lesser 
crises when she hadn't really needed 
to help, but had. The boys were 
repaying what they had borrowed, 
but it was slow business for they 
had the expenses of their own grow- 
ing families. She could have 
bought less for her grandchildren, 
but she was always remembering 
how wonderful a little help would 
have been at that period in her 
own struggle. 

Adrianne decided she might as 
well face it. She hadn't prepared 
for this day. There had always 



been next year. Now next year was 

Determined to put the situation 
from her mind, Adrianne reached 
for the letter she had been writing 
when Henry had called. But it was 
no good. 

TT might have been an hour or a 

year later when she was pulled 
from her despairing thoughts by the 
sound of running feet. 

"May I come in?" The door had 
already opened and a bright head 
peeked through. 

"Oh, Jeanne." It was not hard 
for Adrianne to smile. Just looking 
at Jeanne brought a smile. She was 
spring in person. Her skin and 
voice could belong only to joyous 
youth. What a sweet daughter she 
would make. 

Jeanne held out a single daffodil 
on a long stem. "I had to bring 
it to you." 

Adrianne's self-control could not 
keep her hand from trembling. 
Jeanne saw. 

"Don't feel badly, Mrs. Carson." 
She threw her arms around Adri- 
anne and kissed her. "We have all 
seen it coming, and are so relieved 
that you are not being let out like 
poor Olive. I heard Mr. Woodward 
being very emphatic about that." 
Jeanne was too young, too naive to 
dissemble, and she did not know 
how much she was telling. "I heard 
Big Boss Ferris say they were adjust- 
ing your salary instead of retiring 
you, and you can be sure of it until 
—until— well," she blurted, "think 
how wonderful it will be when you 
are sixty-five. My grandmother 
doesn't have a cent except what we 
give her." 

The cankering came back, double 
strength. Jeanne's grandmother was 
in her late seventies, but to Jeanne 
all grandmothers were in the same 

"It— it— is very kind, but I prefer 
staying with my work." 

"Certainly, you do, darling, and 
that is one reason I love you. You 
haven't let down as most old women 
do. But the axe has fallen. Olive 
was let out and another one or two. 
You know Greta has your place? 
Isn't that terrible?" 

Honor demanded that Adrianne 
be fair. "She will be good. She is 
a different generation, but she is 
very good and she will be fair." 

"Oh, I don't know about that." 
Suddenly tears were running down 
Jeanne's cheeks. She dabbed at 
them with her handkerchief. "I 
came down here to cheer you, and 
just look at me. Greta might be 
good but you are— you're real good. 
You've— you've . . . ." 

She didn't go on and a real smile 
welled up from Adrianne's heart- 
ache. Even the young had their 
problems, and to them they were 
so big. She had mothered Jeanne 
and given her extra help when she 
was learning. Greta was made of 
sterner stuff. She was too old for 
Jeanne's generation, and too young 
for a grandmother's. 

"After all, Jeanne, you won't be 
working much longer." 

"That's just it." Jeanne became 
slightly incoherent. "You see we— 
that is, Joe— well, we can't be mar- 
ried unless Joe gets a raise or I go 
on working. Apartments are just 
out of this world. Yes, I know 
what you think about my working," 
she added hastily, "but what else 



can we do and it wouldn't be for 
long? With you there — well, you 
know I am a little slow especially if 
I am afraid. Just think, what if I 
should get married and then lose 
my job?" 

■IFm sure it will work out. Go 
ahead and get married. You will 
meet the emergency if it comes." 

'That would be a miracle. We 
have figured and we have prayed 
and we have looked, and we can't 
see any way out. But don't think 
that is the only reason I want you 
back. I've loved working with you." 
She rose reluctantly. T must not 
be late." 

'That was thoughtful of you to 
come, Jeanne. You have missed 
your lunch, and you will be starved 
by closing time." 

"Think nothing of it. I might 
as well get accustomed to scanty ra- 
tions. Besides, Joe is waiting to 
drive me back. I'll eat my sandwich 
on the way. Goodbye, darling." 
She stooped and gave Adrianne a 
soft kiss. As she went through the 
door she turned. "She's coming to 
see you after work. Don't let her 
get you down." 

CO that was the purpose of 
Jeanne's visit. The real reason. 
She did not want Adrianne to be 
unprepared. Sweet child. 

At length Adrianne hobbled to 
where her stationery box lay, but 
she made no effort to finish the 
letter she had been writing to Bill. 

"What is the matter with me?" 
Adrianne mused. "If I can't adjust, 
I am really old." But she didn't 
think she was old. She knew she 
wasn't, in spite of Jeanne's gentle 
hints. She had several friends old- 

er than she who were secure in their 

Consciously she let her thoughts 
range back over the years. Life had 
demanded many adjustments of her, 
and some bitter ones. In her late 
twenties she had had to take up the 
life of a widow with four children 
to support. David her son had died 
at twelve. And she still chilled at 
the memory of the emptiness of her 
house when her last child had mar- 
ried. Four years ago Verna her 
daughter had moved to California, 
leaving her completely alone. Both 
boys were in the East. Now— now 
when she had nothing but her 
work, that, too, had been taken 
from her. It was like stealing honey 
bees had gathered and leaving them 
to face winter with an empty hive. 

In desperation she turned to her 
book shelves. One volume after 
another was examined and discard- 
ed. She caressed her Bible, but it, 
too, was put back. Then a shabby 
old book caught her attention. It 
was the life of Madame Schumann- 
Heink. The great singer's courage 
and persistence had lifted Adrianne 
over many bad hours. She opened 
the book and, by some perverse 
chance, noticed a marked passage, 
"My art was the one thing that 
never failed me." 

Nonsense. That was all right for 
a woman who wrote her own ticket. 
Just when she needed her art it had 
failed her most miserably. All her 
years of work and study had brought 
her— this. 

She might sell, or rent her home. 
She and Steve had bought this place 
together. Through good years and 
lean ones she had kept up the pay- 
ments. She had enlarged and mod- 



ernized it. Now she owned it, and 
it was home to children and grand- 
children. To part with it would 
be like— like .... Suddenly she 
dropped her head to her arm and 
wept as she had not wept in years. 

HPHE pealing of the telephone 
brought her back from her prob- 
lem. Let it ring. She would not talk 
to any one just now. She would not 
be pitied. It rang again, and again, 
insistently. Gingerly she raised the 
receiver. "Yes?" 

"Is this 32-435?" 

Long Distance. Fear shoved self- 
pity aside. "Yes. Yes. This is 

3 2 '435" 

"Is this— is this Grandmother?" 
The humor in the operator's voice 
failed to cut through the fear. 
Adrianne held her breath. "Here 
is your party. Go ahead." 


"Grandmother," came a plaintive 
voice over the wire. 

"Steve." With one gasp Adri- 
anne bridged seven hundred miles 
and a thousand worries. "Steve. 
Where are you? What is wrong?" 

"Grandmother, where's Mama?" 

Adrianne fought an impulse to 

"Grandmother, where's Mama?" 
, "Isn't she there, Steve?" 

"No, and Grandma, may I go to 
Rusty's? Mama said not to go with- 
out asking." 

"Why don't you wait until your 
mother gets home?" 

"Why? I want to go now. May 

Adrianne glanced briefly at her 
watch. Today was Tuesday. "Steve, 
did Mama go to Relief Society?" 

"I don't know, but may I go? She 
won't mind, if you say so." 

Suddenly there was nothing in 
the world as important as this de- 
cision. It must be the right one. 
But Steve wanted an answer. 

"How did you know my num- 
ber?" she asked, playing for time. 
She remembered the operator had 
asked if this were "Grandmother." 

"I always knowed it." Disgust 
tinged his impatience. "Rusty is 
waiting. Can I go?" 

There had to be a direct answer. 
"Yes, Steve, if you will 

"Thanks. Goodbye." She heard 
the receiver drop and the banging 
of a screen door. She waited, hop- 
ing. It would not help to hang up 
and call back. Again she heard the 
closing of a door and someone mov- 
ing about. 

"Who left the receiver down?" 
It was Verna's voice. 

"Verna. Verna, wait . . . ." 

Verna must have heard. "Is some- 
one on the line?" she asked. 

"Yes. Yes, it is Mother. Don't 
hang up." 

"MOTHER! What ha PP ened? 
Is something wrong?" The 
very words she had used for Steven 
and in the same tone. All the ten- 
sion of this horrible day dissolved 
into nothingness at the anxiety in 
her daughter's voice. Adrianne 
laughed and cried and strangled 
over words. 

"Mother. For goodness sake. 
Tell me what happened." 

"Well— I thought my honey had 
been stolen, but the hive is full 
after all." 

There was an ominous silence, 
then, "If you don't tell me this 
instant . . . ." 



"Nothing is wrong, dear. Every- 
thing is right, but I didn't recognize 
how right until I heard Steve's 
voice. You see, if you want honey, 
you have to take the sting of the 
bees along with it." 

"Is that what you called up to 
say? You're not slightly out of 
your head, are you?" 

"No. I told you I am all right. 
Steve called me." She could hear 
the sigh of relief that followed her 
normal tone. "He wanted to go to 
Rusty 's. How did he know my 
number? He apparently didn't 
know my last name." 

Verna was indignant. "They all 
know your number, Mother. That 
is one of the first things they learn." 
Then Verna chuckled. "Such a 
goofy conversation. He must have 
frightened you as much as you did 
me. I was beginning to wonder." 
In spite of its lightness, the tone 
was definitely one of mother to 

"Don't worry. I am still of sound 
body and mind— and spirit, but 
I'm," Adrianne swallowed hard. "I 
find I am not as young as I once 
was. I'm— I'm stepping down a 

grade or two at the office. The ten- 
sion won't be so— that is, my work 
will be more or less routine. Noth- 
ing to keep me awake nights." 

"Mother, really? That is the best 
news you could have given me. We 
have all worried about your carrying 
such a load; and if you need help 
you .... 

"I'll get by. Maybe, just maybe 
Jeanne and Joe will move in with 

"What a relief that would be to 
know you are not alone, and it will 
help with your expenses. That house 
is large enough for two families and 
privacy. But remember, Ted has 
finished our apartment, and it will 
be waiting, if and when you decide 
to use it." 

Afterward Adrianne sat thinking. 
She was definitely committed and 
she was glad. This way she could 
go on working for a long time yet. 
The book of Schumann-Heink was 
still on the table. 

"You were right," she said aloud. 
"Art doesn't let you down. My real 
art, and it isn't advertising copy, will 
never let me down. Steve's call 
proved that." 

JLtft Ljour (byes 

Mabel Law Atkinson 

With eyes downcast in grief and doubt, 
Slowly I walked a country lane. 
I failed to hear the joyous shout 
Of springtime after April rain — 
A violet in the greening sod 
Whispered, "Lift your eyes to God." 

The very greenness whistled then; 
My ears received the robin's call; 
My thoughts escaped their stagnant fen 
To hear a laughing waterfall — 
My heart held room for no regrets 
Weaving a lei of violets. 

[Relief Society Assists in welfare Lrrogram for 
1 1 larysville - LJuoa L^ity Qjlooa 

Alice J. Fen in 
President, Gridley Stake (California) Relief Society 

ON Christmas Eve, many of the 
saints in the Gridley Stake 
left their radios turned on 
until very late, dreading what 
seemed imminent, and deeply con- 
cerned over the flood threat in the 
Marysville-Yuba City area. When 
the levee of the Feather River did 
break, our thoughts were of the 
many saints who were having to 
flee from their homes at two a.m. 
on December 24, 1955, before a 
wall of onrushing muddy water. 

A very few hours later the Relief 
Society received a call to work with 
the stake storehouse keeper and the 
stake work director in preparing a 
list of welfare items which would 
be needed for these people. 

Many who left their homes were 
able to take only the clothes they 
wore because of lack of time and 
car space. A former stake board 
member said, "We barely had time 
to dash over and get our eighty- 
year-old neighbor who lives alone. 
We could hear the roar of the 
water as we hastily drove south to 
Roseville where we have relatives. 
When we next saw our house, it 
had been washed out in the or- 

Immediately after the order for 
commodities had been completed, 
the help of the Relief Society was 
requested in compiling a question- 
naire to be used in survey work to 
determine what kind and how 

Page 226 

much assistance would be needed 
in the stricken area. Besides ques- 
tions to determine needs, available 
services were also indicated. These 
(besides a labor pool) included 
thirty washing machines and driers 
made available in Gridley (nine- 
teen miles away). Often the articles 
to be washed had first to be cleansed 
of mud with a garden hose and, in 
some cases, linens had mud stains 
even after careful and thorough 
washings. These washers were kept 
running for hours and hours as it 
was important that things be 
washed before the mud dried on 
them. Also available was a forced 
air furnace obtained from a dehy- 
drating plant which was set up in 
the Yuba City recreation hall to 
dry out appliance motors, mattres- 
ses, and rugs. 

The following day Relief Society 
presidents and bishops were in- 
structed to call for volunteer work- 
ers from each ward to go to Yuba 
City to assist in survey work and 
clean-up operations. 

Lists of all the families in the 
two Yuba City wards were compiled 
from ward teaching records. Each 
sister, from other than the Yuba 
City wards, was sent out with a 
Yuba City sister who was familiar 
with the area. Armed with lists of 
families in their "districts" and 
questionnaire blanks to be filled out 
for each family, these teams 



launched a systematic effort to help 
these people to bring order and 
cleanliness out of chaos and mud. 

The families were asked how 
many people they could use in 
cleaning, and were instructed as to 
washing and drying services avail- 
able. They were encouraged to go 
to the chapel and have a "confer- 
ence" with the Relief Society presi- 
dents or bishops as to their needs 
for Welfare items of food, clothing, 
household supplies, and furniture 
from the source of supply at the 
Gridley Ward chapel. The stake 
Relief Society work director and 
Gridley Ward president and other 
tireless workers assisted the stake 
storehouse keeper in taking care of 
the bishop's orders. As fast as 
orders came in they were filled from 
the generous amount of supplies 
sent from the General Welfare 

Committee in Salt Lake City and 
taken to Yuba City for distribution. 
Periodically, survey teams re- 
turned to the chapel where the 
questionnaire reports were given to 
those in charge of dispatching the 
brothers and sisters who were wait- 
ing the chance to help their neigh- 
bors make homes livable again. 

AN example of the reaction to 
this "labor of love" was Sister 
Esther Peters of the Relief Society 
stake presidency. She was so sure 
she would "be back in her home to 
prepare breakfast" that no one made 
any effort to take more than "what 
we stood up in." It developed that 
their home was in the swiftest, 
deepest part of the current of the 
rampant river and was completely 
covered— with the exception of the 
very peak of the roof. The first 





time Sister Peters saw her home 
after the devastation a veritable 
beehive of people were busily scrap- 
ing and cleaning and scooping out 
mud. As she walked in they looked 
at her questioningly. She said, 
'I'm just the owner." Immediately 
they told her she was to look at 
one room only, the one which had 
been scrubbed clean, and she was 
forthwith piloted to that room. 

Sister Peters voiced the opinion 
of many many in the Gridley Stake 
when she said this experience had 
helped her to realize how significant 
are the functions of the Welfare 
Plan in the lives of all, how great 
the security it offers, with its well- 
stocked storehouse for this huge 
family which is the organization of 
our Father's children here on earth. 

The response to calls for cleanup 
crews was beyond expectations. Not 
only were there workers from all 
wards in the stake, but workers 
(men and women) came from 
wards in other stakes throughout 
Northern California. Finally, when 
there were more workers than 
"jobs/' those in charge sent crews 
out to find clean-up jobs. These 
crews went from house to house 
cleaning homes and places of busi- 
ness of members and non-members 

One store was so grateful for the 
volunteer laborers that, in return, 
they were given about seventy bolts 
of water-and-mud-damaged yardage. 
This was sent to a ward to be 
washed and ironed. The Relief 
Society inquired the cost of having 
it mangled at a laundry, and they 
volunteered to do it all for noth- 
ing, if none of it was to be sold. 
As a result of this project, many 




families were given yardage to help 
out where incomes were barely 
adequate. People in the flooded 
area received more than half of the 
noo yards. 

In cases where sewing machines 
were out of order or mothers were 
deeply involved in rehabilitation, 
the sisters from other wards volun- 
teered to sew some of the yardage 
into clothing. (The sisters seemed 
glad for a sewing assignment.) 
When they were asked at Relief 
Society to do the sewing, there were 
more volunteers than assignments. 

The stake Relief Society work di- 
rector reported another phase of the 
sisters in "Relief" action. A call 
was made for good, used clothing to 
help the disaster stricken families, 
and the response was such that 
rooms were set up in Gridley and 



Yuba City wards with hanging bars 
and tables. The clothing was sort- 
ed, sized, and made available in an 
orderly way. Many of the families 
who lost everything were able to 
use much that was there. 

TN every aspect of this experience- 
survey, cleanup, reclaiming of 
yardage, sewing assignments, dona- 
tion, and dispersal of used clothing, 
and, most of all, in the Welfare 
commodities from Salt Lake City— 
the response has been more than 

Our love and concern for each 
other have increased, and we are 
humbly grateful for these and all 

The task of rehabilitation is not 
over and we are still engaged in it. 
To date records show that 161 sis- 
ters have worked 2,971 hours. Al- 
though more than six weeks have 
elapsed, it has been in the past week 
only that water has receded suf- 
ficiently to allow some people to 
get back to their homes. People 
are still conscious of need and are 
responding. In many homes there 
is still much to be done when the 
task of drying them out is com- 
pleted. Unless damage is seen, one 
can't realize the waste, spoilage, and 
havoc which follow in the wake of 

such a disaster. Veneered surface 
of furniture warps off in two inch 
high waves. Dresser drawers swell 
and warp beyond repair. 

People exhibited fine spirits. 
Everywhere was cheerfulness and 
gratitude that things were no worse. 
People were heard to say how for- 
tunate they were because their 
houses had not cracked off their 
foundations, or hadn't been 
wrenched askew, or hadn't floated 
off entirely— as some did. Even the 
tragic drowning of the bishop's 
counselor and his wife and two 
children, while it was a great shock 
to their immediate families, was 
recognized as the will of our 
Heavenly Father. The blessing 
that they were still all together was 

Words can't express the feeling 
engendered in the midst of depres- 
sing disaster at the sight of the 
rooms full of commodities to re- 
lieve the needs of these our sisters 
and brothers. Our testimony as to 
the value and effectiveness of the 
Welfare Plan have increased many 
times over. We are very grateful 
to an all-wise Heavenly Father who, 
through inspired leaders, has estab- 
lished this guarantee of security for 

Information Sheet 
Name Address Ward 

Has this home been cleaned out? Roughly by men? Completed by Relief Society? 
Does the family have all the basic food supplies? 

3. Do they have adequate clothing? Clothing available through Relief Society. 

4. Are they comfortably housed? Where? Do they need a house to rent? 

5. Has their clothing been washed and dried? (Suggest no ironing or starch) 

6. Has the furniture been checked and cleaned? 

7. Appliances checked? Washing Machine? Refrigerator? Deep Freeze? 
Carpentry repair needed? Painting needed? Foundation work needed? 
Final clean up, yards, fences, etc.? 

Everyone should contact their bishop and check in at the Church. 

Checking team 

Other suggestions and helps? Date 

To You, Beloved 

Lois E. Focknei 

4 i rTl HERE is one thing I am 

sure of, Mama," Laurie 

said bitterly, "I will never 

work at this endless drudgery as you 

do— never!" 

"Did you get in all the clothes?" 
Vivian asked. She felt vaguely hurt 
by her daughter's thrust. In fact, 
as a mother she had felt on the de- 
fensive for several months. Laurie 
didn't approve of anything. She 
seemed to be disappointed in her 
parents and disapproved of them 
constantly. Why did a dear, curly- 
haired little girl suddenly become a 
stranger when she reached fifteen? 
Well, Vivian felt she did the best 
she could as a mother, and Laurie 
would just have to get over it. 

Laurie came in with a basket of 
clean clothes and carried them into 
the old back-porch laundry. Her 
usually pleasant little face was 
petulant. In a moment she came 
back into the kitchen, her gray eyes 
still stormy and rebellious. Vivian 
smiled involuntarily. Laurie looked 
so like Ken when she was angry. 
Maybe Ken would understand this 
bitterness in his daughter. But she 
hated to disturb him. 

"Would you set the table, 
Laurie?" Vivian peeked into the 
oven to check the scalloped po- 
tatoes. Little Keith would be de- 
lighted. How he loved scalloped 
potatoes with ham leftovers. 

Laurie began dutifully to set the 
table. " I'm going to marry some- 
one interesting — who cares about 
me!" She spoke vehemently. The 
plates clattered for emphasis. "I 
want to be more than just — just a 

Page 230 

mother to a lot of babies. More 
than just a housekeeper." 

Vivian started to scold and 
sighed instead. It must be a phase. 
She wished she could feel more at 
ease — understanding, instead of 
hurt and defensive. Didn't children 
realize that mothers can be sensi- 
tive? She felt Laurie's critical gaze 
and glanced down at her faded 
housedress. Ken would be home 
soon. He would take off his coat 
and tie, roll up his shirt sleeves, kiss 
her absently, and reach for the 
paper. She probably should make 
more of an effort to be attractive, 
but where would she find the time? 
How could she make Laurie under- 
stand that some things in life be- 
come so important that they crowd 
other things into the background. 

"Laurie, you know . . . ." Vivian 
groped for words. "You know, 
dear, it isn't drudgery. You love 
the babies when they come." 

"Oh, yes!" Laurie put her hand 
on her hip and arched her eye- 
brows. "Everyone loves the babies, 
but how much time does it leave 
you? How long has it been since 
you have done anything that was 
fun or exciting? How long has it 
been since you have had a really 
nice dress? Or your hair fixed?" 

"Too long," agreed Vivian, 
smoothing her hair self-consciously. 
"But Daddy seems to like my hair 
the way I fix it." 

"Daddy," said Laurie decidedly, 
"hardly knows you exist. He doesn't 
even look at you most of the time. 
That is what I mean . . . ." Her 
voice broke, and the tears came. 



She stopped, perplexed at her moth- 
er's look. "I'll run down to the 
grocery and get those things, 


ivian was stunned. Now she 
understood, and with quick 
mother's sympathy, she wanted to 
take her little girl in her arms. But 
Laurie was gone before she recov- 
ered her composure. Vivian watched 
her hurrying down the street, too 
tall and thin for fifteen, but show- 
ing the beginning of a lovely wom- 
an. She couldn't keep the tears 
back. Oh, Ken, she thought, how 
hard it is to grow — to make life 
fit into our dreams. Laurie doesn't 
know how we care. She doesn't 
think you love me anymore. 

Well, that was the answer. Poor 
little Laurie! Her mind was full of 
all the beautiful, romantic dreams 
that girls enjoy. And she couldn't 
reconcile love with marriage, as she 
saw it everyday. Vivian wiped her 
tears away with strong resolution. 
She would tell Ken this very even- 
ing, and they would have to help 
Laurie to understand the real depth 
of their love and marriage. And 
they would have to be more demon- 
strative in front of the children. 
They needed to know that their 
mother and father loved each other. 
It was a pattern and a security for 

The younger children began to 
run in noisily from their play — 
dirty and happy. Vivian fought 
down her worrying and, ignoring 
her weariness, forced herself to 
smile and be playful with them. 

"All right, soldiers! Into line. 
Forward march! Wash your hands 
and faces. Hurry! Daddy will be 
home in a minute." 

She stood for a moment and 
watched them troop merrily into 
the bathroom. Ken was proud of 
his four little sons, three little 
daughters, and Laurie. Every meal 
was a party with so many children. 
Then she remembered the rolls and 
hurriedly popped them into the 
oven, hoping they would be ready 
in time. 

"Oh, there is the baby!" They 
were always noisy, and now they 
had awakened him. Vivian stood 
still, rubbing her hand across her 
forehead, gathering reserve strength. 
Laurie was coming in the door now. 
Maybe she would see about the 
baby. And there was the front 
door. That would be Ken .... 

'"THREE hours later, unbelievably, 
quiet reigned. The children 
were all in bed, except Laurie, who 
had gone to a movie. Ken was read- 
ing the paper in his special easy 
chair. Vivian smiled as she watched 
him absently pass his hand over his 
thin hair. She would hurry and fin- 
ish cutting out the dress for Bar- 
bara, and then she would tell him. 
She tried to think just how she 
would explain it. 

"Come sit down, dear," Ken said 
suddenly, laying aside the paper. 
"You never stop. No wonder you 
are so thin." 

Vivian, startled, began taking the 
pins out of her mouth so she could 
answer him. 

' 'Didn't your mother ever teach 
you not to put pins in your mouth?" 
her husband laughed. 

"She did," replied Vivian, "but I 
guess I didn't hear very well." 

"You are a very disobedient wom- 
an, and you were probably a diso- 
bedient child." Ken came over to 



help her fold the material and dress 
pattern. "But I love you anyway." 
His eyes were warm and tender. 

Vivian kissed him impuslively. 
"Ken, I wish Laurie . . . ." 

"What about Laurie?" 

"Well, she has been very upset. 
Critical and bad-tempered. I can't 
understand. It— it isn't like her, 
you know/' 

"Maybe she is sick." 

"No, dear, I found out today. 
She— well, she thinks you don't love 
me anymore. She feels that a wom- 
an's lot with a big family is just 

"There is nothing strange about 
that, the way you have to work. If 
I could afford . . . ." Ken frowned 

"Now, don't worry about that. It 
isn't the real problem. She doesn't 
feel there is any love or romance 
left in our marriage. It isn't the 
work or the babies. Laurie didn't 
mind them before." 

Ken smiled boyishly and a little 
embarrassed. "I never would have 
believed that I would be one to 
disillusion my own daughter." 

"Not as a father," Vivian hastily 
reassured him, "as a romantic hus- 
band. I think we are both at fault, 
dear. Because we have felt a little 
shy and reticent in front of our 
children, they have come to feel 
that we are indifferent." 

"Well, we will have to show 
Laurie her mistake," said Ken. 

And Vivian sighed with relief. It 
had been so much easier than she 
had expected. 

Because their sixteenth wedding 
anniversary was only two weeks 
away, they decided to use that 
happy occasion to help restore 

Laurie's faith in marriage. Vivian 
spent many happy days in prepara- 
tion and shopping for just the right 
fishing rod for Ken. She took the 
children into her confidence and 
there was a great deal of excited 
whispering after they had helped 
her safely bestow the treasured gift 
in the dark confines of the little 
boys' closet upstairs. There was a 
singing in her heart as she antici- 
pated his pleasure when he un- 
wrapped his gift. Laurie had taken 
some interest, but the critical and 
caustic remarks were still present, 
eroding the domestic happiness of 
the whole family. 

\ 7TVIAN did not know what Ken 
had planned, but she felt a little 
disappointed that he had not taken 
the children into his confidence as 
she had done. He only smiled 
secretively and went about his af- 
fairs with a smug happiness. 

On the morning of the anniver- 
sary Vivian came to breakfast in a 
frilly brunch coat, an anniversary 
gift of two years ago. She had only 
worn it twice, when she had been 
ill, and she put on her new pink 
lipstick, carefully. Ken whistled 
when he saw her, and all the chil- 
dren laughed with pleasure, except 
Laurie who flushed and looked un- 

When Ken was off to work and 
the children out to play, Vivian 
dressed in her newest housedress 
and cleaned the house. Laurie 
helped, walking about quiet and 
morose all morning. By the time 
lunch was over and the little ones 
napping and the larger ones out to 
play again, Vivian was tired. She 
sat clown limply in the kitchen, 



staring at the gigantic pile of dirty 
dishes in the sink. Laurie came in 
with some flowers and arranged 
them tastefully in the living room. 

'Thank you, Laurie/' Vivian said. 
'Those will be lovely for our anni- 
versary dinner tonight." 

"Mama," Laurie began hesitant- 
ly, "I told Bryce I didn't think I 
wanted to go with him anymore." 
At Vivian's disapproving look, she 
added hastily, defensively, "I didn't 
think it was fair, since I have de- 
cided on a very exciting career and 
may never marry. Unless it were 
someone really different, and . . . ." 
She stopped, groping for words. 

"It seems a little early to worry 
about marriage," Vivian answered. 
"I mean, couldn't you just go out 
on dates — not always with Bryce, 

"Don't you like Bryce, Mama?" 
Laurie swung around to face Vivian, 
wide-eyed and questioning. 

"I think he is the nicest boy you 
know," said Vivian sincerely. "But 
I don't imagine he is thinking about 
marriage— at his age." 

"Bryce is eighteen, Mama," Lau- 
rie said with a little toss of her gold- 
en head. "He—he thinks he would 
like us to get married when he is 
through college." 

"Oh." Vivian struggled to keep 
the smile back. 

"But I told Bryce last night that 
I felt I just wasn't the type for an 
ordinary marriage." She stressed the 
ordinary, and Vivian winced. Over 
her shoulder, before she disappeared 
upstairs, she added, "If Daddy will 
take you out tonight, Mama, I will 
baby-sit. I'm going to do the up- 
stairs now." 

Vivian was momentarily de- 

pressed, but the thought of spend- 
ing an evening out, soon re- 
vived her spirits, and she attacked 
the mountain of dishes and pots and 
pans with enthusiasm. She could 
hardly wait to tell Ken. 

That evening they sat down to 
their elaborate dinner with hushed 
expectancy, for two of the boys were 
laboriously bringing Ken's gift down 
from its upstairs hiding place. At 
last they arrived, amid suppressed 
giggles and sighs. 

Upon its presentation, Ken was 
rapturous. "Say, that is just what 
I have wanted all year, and just in 
time for our camping trip next 
month, too." He gave Vivian an 
affectionate kiss, and the children 
were ecstatic. Even Laurie smiled. 

"I am going to give your mother's 
gift to her after we eat dinner," 
laughed Ken. "It is so beautiful I 
am afraid she would be too excited 
to eat." 

CO the delightful anxiety lasted all 
through the dinner, and Laurie 
began to laugh and to guess with 
the others. Vivian sat misty-eyed 
through the whole meal, thankful 
for her husband and her eight love- 
ly children — even loving the old 
house, with all its inconveniences 
tonight, because her grandmother 
had reared her children here — be- 
cause it had known so much love. 

Ken made a great ceremony out 
of her gift presentation and Vivian 
sat down in her armchair, with all 
the children circled about her on 
the floor. It was beautifully 
wrapped, and had the little enve- 
lope attached that Vivian knew so 
well. She opened the gift first. 

Everyone gasped as she withdrew 



the gleaming necklace from its vel- 
vet box. 

"It's exquisite!" exclaimed Laurie, 
her hands clasped together. 

Vivian's heart was too full to let 
her speak — to let Ken know it was 
too expensive, too beautiful for her. 
And how she loved it. She reached 
out to squeeze his hand and he 
kissed her. Then, carefully, with 
trembling fingers, she opened the 
little envelope. She began to read 
the sixteenth beautiful sonnet that 
Ken had written to her. 

"To you, beloved . . . ." Vivian 
couldn't read it aloud. She read it 
through quietly, the tears blinding 
her. The younger children were 
still admiring the necklace. Only 
Laurie stood expectant, longing .... 

"Laurie, put this card away — 
with the others. There is a little 
blue box tied with satin ribbon in 
the bottom drawer of my vanity." 

Ken looked at her, strangely, and 
then with understanding warming 
in his eyes. 

"Thank you, darling," Vivian said 
at last. 

"Hurry and get ready for our 
date, Mama," he whispered. 

Vivian had so much help getting 
ready she wondered if she would 
ever be dressed. But, at last, she was, 
and the necklace made even the old 
black dress look lovely. As Barbara 
hurried downstairs to see about the 
baby, Vivian realized that she had 
made herself into more of a drudge 
than was necessary. They love to 
make us happy, too, if we will let 
them, she thought, remembering 
how kind Laurie had been, how 
cheerful the others about Mommy's 

The door opened and closed 
quietly. Laurie stood against the 
bedroom door, tall and straight. She 
cleared her throat, and Vivian 
turned from the mirror. 

"I— I read them all, Mama. I 
hope you don't care." 

When Vivian smiled, she con- 
tinued, with wonder in her voice 
and her eyes shining, "A poem for 
every year, Mama. Do you suppose 
anyone will ever love me . . . like 

Vivian reached impulsively for 
the hand of her growing-up daugh- 
ter. They both knew that in Lau- 
rie's heart something new and 
beautiful had been born. 

Springtime QJinds the Cani/on 

Evelyn Fjeldsted 

On the waiting fields still lie 

The graying, tattered sheets of snow, 

And springtime walks between the shreds, 

Where winter slept a month ago. 

Then exultantly spring pirouettes 

Through the canyon's still domain, 

Spreading counterpanes of green, 

Under tinsel nets of rain. 

Searching there, it finds new melodies, 

Deep in solitude for themes 

To play on keyboards, improvised 

To waken earth from winter dreams. 

A Temple Will Be Built 

Mabel L. Anderson 

UT T ERE we will build a temple 

I I to our God" — those words 

spoken by a prophet so 

long ago, came solemnly to my mind 

as I stood on the sacred ground of 

Newchapel in Surrey, England. 

The one "must" on my trip to 
the British Isles had been to see the 
temple site. Following the direc- 
tions of an elder at the Church 
headquarters on Nightingale Lane 
in London, we boarded a comfort- 
able British coach just a few steps 
from the Church door. 

In planning the things to see and 
the places to go, I had studied maps 
of every county and part of Eng- 
land. But how colorless a road map 
can be! Just a line to try to tell of 
those lovely British roads that amble 
through the countryside as though 
they, too, were enjoying the delight- 
ful and varied scenery through 
which they were passing, making a 
turn to avoid a cottage garden or to 
show one a particularly attractive 
view of rolling pastures and sylvan 
glades; just a dot to indicate a pic- 
turesque old town or quaint village, 
or an ancient castle or the spires of 
a grand cathedral. 

A few minutes ride took us 
through some of the busy environs 
of London, then out into the peace- 
ful country, with its soft landscapes, 
having a pastoral charm of its own, 
historical as it is beautiful. Through 
this lovely countryside marched the 
invaders of Britain from before 
Julius Caesar's time up to the time 
of William the Conqueror — Ro- 
mans, Danes, and Normans, and 

the whole area abounds in many 
well-preserved monuments of those 

Not quite an hour's ride brought 
us to the crossroads of the London- 
Lingfield road, where we stopped. A 
few steps took us to one of the most 
beautiful spots it has been my privi- 
lege to see. Here, in this unspoiled 
English countryside, the cornerstone 
will soon be laid for the building of 
the first temple in England — that 
"tight little island," as Shakespeare 
said, "bound in with the triumphant 
sea," that has furnished so many 
stalwarts to our Church, just 118 
years after the gospel was first 
brought there. 

A little pond just outside the high 
board fence first attracted my eye 
and my camera. Here, among pond 
lilies, a mother duck and her little 
ducklings were having a swim. 
Around the grassy fringe of the 
pond were flowers and shrubs, while 
in the background were magnificent 
trees and the lichened tile roof of 
the mansion. 

A gate admitted us to the grounds 
of the estate at Newchapel. It was 
such a calm and lovely spot. First, 
the manor house built in the dig- 
nity of Elizabethan half-timbered 
style. This gracious mansion, set 
amid rolling acres and mellow park- 
land, is something which will long 
remain in the memory of those of 
us who cherish our visit there. 

Missionaries stationed at New- 
chapel took us through this state- 
ly house, with its richly pan- 
eled walls and parquetry floors. 

Page 235 



Mabel L. Anderson 

As it is approached from the road 

We first entered a large hall which 
had a beautiful stairway leading to 
the balcony and floors above. At 
one side, a drawing room with a 
small gallery, we were told, would 
undoubtedly be the chapel for the 
branch; then through the library, 
dining rooms, various sitting rooms, 
kitchens, and butlers' pantries; up- 
stairs to the many bedrooms, and 
bathrooms (some so large they even 
had fireplaces in them). The Old- 
World charm and gracious character 
of this house made me think of 
some words of Charles Lamb: 

I do not know a pleasure more affecting 
than to range at will over the deserted 
apartments of some fine old family man- 
sion. The traces of extinct grandeur 
admit of a better passion than envy, and 
contemplations on the great and good 
whom we fancy in succession to have been 
its inhabitants, weave for us illusions in- 
compatible with the battles of modern 

And it is certainly true that the 
storied history of Britain is largely 
written on the mellow walls of its 
country houses, for in them many 
important events have taken place; 
within their walls have gathered 
many people who have walked the 
pages of history. And, as I wan- 
dered from room to room, I, for 
one, was grateful that this house 
would be preserved. 

pROM the windows of the second 
and third floors we had a good 
view of the lovely grounds that 
stretched far in the distance. Thirty- 
four acres, we were told, comprise 
the estate. Back of the house was a 
large carriage house now being used 
as headquarters of the English gen- 
eological department of the Church. 
The house is surrounded by ex- 
tensive and venerable lawns, park- 
lands, and fine trees, orchards, pad- 



docks, and farms in the distance. 
Glorious masses of rhododendron in 
shades of rose and purple were 
breath-taking in their beauty. The 
rain had just stopped, and the shim- 
mering silk of the leaves was such 
a lush and verdant green it seemed 
the Master Painter must have just 
finished the painting. Abundant, 
brilliant, sweet - smelling flowers 
made the air heady with their per- 
fume, and gave more color to the 
scene. Among the clipped yew 
and boxwood hedges we wandered 
to the tennis court, near which, we 
were told, was the spot which had 
been dedicated for the building of 
the temple. We felt we were in- 
deed walking on holy ground. The 
whole place gave one a feeling of 
peace and serenity that has a special 
appeal to those who live in this age 
when serenity is so rare. In the 
quiet walks around the grounds one 
could indeed feel that here he might 
really "be still and know that I am 

Nowhere else, that I know of, is 
it so easy to obtain the illusion of 
isolation as in those deep cool paths 

and among the luxuriant sea of foli- 
age of that tranquil countryside, 
only about thirty miles from Lon- 
don. Newchapel is in the southeast 
corner of Surrey, near to the pretty 
village of Lingfield, and just a few 
miles from the busy market town 
of East Grinstead, itself a blend of 
the old and new, with an interesting 
history, many old traditions, and 
rich in seventeenth-century-tim- 
bered houses. In the vicinity are 
quaint villages and modern suburbs 
where charming cottages flaunt gay 
front gardens, typically British. 
Across this region, many centuries 
ago, there existed a great forest, now 
gone except for bits of it remaining 
in the lovely small woods, and evi- 
dent in the stately trees seen every- 
where. How well the leaders of 
our Church chose the location to 
build a house of the Lord! 

Next time I go to England, I shall 
again take the road leading south 
from London to the sea, and there 
at Newchapel, I hope to thrill at 
the stately spires of a Latter-day 
Saint temple silhouetted against an 
English sky. 

/low Spring 

Dowthy J. Roberts 

Snow's fraying cerements have lost their strength; 
Now spring disturbs the linens and the leveled girth 
Of land revives to shrug the winter from its length. 
Greens, innumerable, will range the loosened earth, 
Will creep or burst in ray or tower, crown 
Or shock, into returning sun. Life will leap 
Forth million-formed to cry the season down 
That marked the world as won with snow, death, sleep. 

Sixty LJears <J/igo 

Excerpts From the Woman's Exponent, April 1, and April 15, 1896 

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

A GOLDEN WEDDING: At the foot of a gigantic mountain lies the pastoral 
village of Pleasant Grove, which now numbers among its inhabitants two of our aged 
pioneers. One of these, Brother Hanson Walker, who with others pioneered the way 
to this barren waste and has assisted to make it the Utah of today, celebrated his Golden 
Wedding on Friday, April 10th. His children and his children's children poured in 
upon him and his good wife Elizabeth; they have lived happily together for fifty 
years .... Among the guests present was the mother of Sister Walker, Sister Margaret 
Foutz, who has reached the advanced age of ninety -five years and is still quite active. 


Leona, look forth and behold 

From headland, from hillside and deep, 

The day-king surrenders his banners of gold 

And twilight advances through woodland and wold 

And the dews are beginning to weep .... 

Leona, good-by; would the grief 

That is gathering now, ever be 

Too dark for your faith, you will long for relief, 

And remember the journey, though lonesome is brief, 

O'er lowland and river to me .... 

— James G. Clark 

MINERVA WHITE SNOW: The news of the unexpected demise of Sister 
Minerva White Snow, wife of Apostle Erastus Snow, was quite a shock to many of her 
friends and to her relatives in this City. Sister Snow died April 1, 1896, at Manti, where 
she has been living for several years past, having been called there at the time of the 
dedication of the Manti Temple, and has been laboring therein almost continuously .... 
Faithful and true in every department of life, a loving wife, an affectionate mother, a 
wise counselor, full of integrity and abounding in faith and good works, amiable, tender, 
considerate of the feelings of others, and full of charity .... 

— Editorial 

ized June 10, 1895. O ur president, Sister Eliza West is very energetic and persevering; 
her assistants and all the members seem to be willing to do all in their power to carry 
the work along. The members have all donated liberally and are storing up wheat as 
we were counseled to do. 

—Ella M. Horton, Ass't. Sec. 

REPORT FROM THE SANDWICH ISLANDS: Sister Libbie Noall, who re- 
turned last fall from the Sandwich Islands, gave a most interesting description of her 
labors in the Relief Society among the native sisters on those islands. The first Relief 
Society organized there was in 1875 ... . These sisters are as willing to make sacri- 
fices as we are at home in Zion; they are full of faith and zeal in their religion, and are 
naturally gifted in speaking. They learn quickly and do fancy work of various kinds. 
They are fond of their meetings and will walk long distances to attend religious serv- 
ices .... — From a Report of the General Conference of Relief Society 

Page 238 

Woman's Sphere 

Ramona W. Cannon 

HPHE League of Women Voters, 
a national organization, is cur- 
rently stressing in its local organiza- 
tions the preparation of women to 
take part effectively in the coming 
national elections. The stated pur- 
pose of the League, which was or- 
ganized in 1920, is to ''promote po- 
litical responsibility through in- 
formed and active participation of 
citizens in government." 

ter-day Saint soprano from Salt 
Lake City, who has won acclaim 
throughout the United States and 
in many European cities, in Decem- 
ber 1955 sang in the "Messiah" pre- 
sented for service men in Augsburg, 

TEAU prefers living "with ad- 
venture" — and her husband, Jac- 
ques-Yves, explorer and inventor, on 
his French national scientific ship, 
"Calypso," to being a Paris social- 
ite. Nine months of the year her 
life is "uncomfortable and acro- 
batic" in their close quarters. Some- 
times she cooks for twenty-three 
men, also acting as purser, nurse, 
and assistant winch-operator. From 
the "Calypso" scientists explore the 
under-water world, its marine life, 
geology, the water itself, and wrecks 
of ships sunk before the time of 


her daughter Frances, of Day- 
ton, Idaho, at present living in Salt 
Lake City, Utah, tied for first-place 
honors in the 1955 short story con- 
test sponsored by the National 
Thanksgiving Association. Repre- 
sentatives from thirty states entered 
the contest. Both Mrs. Atkinson 
and her daughter are contributors 
to The Relief Society Magazine. 


gifted American actress, in a re- 
cent interview, emphasized a beau- 
tiful speaking voice as necessary to 
a woman's charm. "A wonderful 
and pleasant way to improve your 
voice is to read aloud and listen to 
yourself. If possible, have a tape 
recording made, because you always 
sound different than you imagine." 

"DIRTHDAY congratulations are 
extended to: Mrs. Rachel Moore 
Wood, one hundred, and Mrs. 
Caroline W. Newman, ninety-nine, 
both of Salt Lake City, Utah; Mrs. 
Elizabeth Day, Hunter, Utah, nine- 
ty-four; Mrs. Ellen King Lyman, 
Logandale, Nevada, ninety-one; and 
the following women who have 
reached their ninetieth birthdays: 
Mrs. Adeline Maria Bohn Puffer, 
Beaver, Utah; Mrs. Lavinia Rigby 
Card, Mrs. Sarah Winter Bacon, 
and Mrs. Harriet L. Axton, all of 
Salt Lake City. 

Page 239 


VOL. 43 

APRIL 1956 

No. 4 


oman an 

EVEN before the sunshine of 
spring touches the brown 
earth, a woman may plan her 
garden. Perhaps on paper she out- 
lines the landscaping — here a 
dwarf cherry tree for Maytime 
bloom; there by the pool, the heart- 
shaped leaves of Valentine ivy; near 
the doorstep a bed of blue and gold 
pansies. Dear to the heart of the 
homemaker is the plot of ground, 
large or small, which she may beau- 
tify as a setting for her house, the 
place where she may see the first 
tender green of grass and leaf, the 
opening of flower buds, the aureole 
of bloom. 

For the well-being of the body 
and to satisfy the Teachings of the 
spirit, the joy of planting, the se- 
renity of waiting, and then the glad 
reward, are as a cycle completed in 
the fulfillment of promise. The 
dark earth, the brown seeds, the 
dormant bulbs, the blue sky and 
the warm sun, the dreaming of 
summer — such are the uses of a 

Always it seems a miracle to see 
the plot of earth change from dark- 
ness to the glory of life and color. 
Many women have found such cre- 
ative joy in gardening that they re- 
gard its satisfactions as an integral 
part of homemaking. 

Mothers have found that children 
and gardens go well together — 

Page 240 

d crier 


small footsteps following while the 
mother plants and trims and tender- 
ly cares for the seedlings — then a 
garden nook for the child's play- 
time, and the sheltered place where 
the family gathers on summer eve- 
nings. So a garden may be used for 
binding the family together and 
uniting them in the love of the 
earth and the home which have 
been given them for their use and 
their delight. 

Our gardens planned and planted 
this springtime will not be for one 
season alone, but they will be for 
many summers, a continuation of 
our love and care. And should we 
find it necessary to leave a home 
and a garden, should our families 
be faced with the need of making 
a new home, memories of the early 
garden will go with them and estab- 
lish again the family pattern. It 
will, perhaps, be for our children, 
as it is with us, to rejoice in the 
memory of gardens. 

Who among us has not heard of 
the heritage of plants and flowers? 
Recall, perhaps, a pioneer garden, 
someone saying, 'This lilac bush 
was planted by my grandmother 
from a start she carried westward 
from Nauvoo." Or, in a sheltered 
place, near the wall of an adobe 
house . . . 'This spot once was radi- 
ant with pansies grown from seed 
which my great-aunt gathered in 



the gardens of Harlow, when she 
lived in England." Or visit a ranch 
home, long deserted, and someone 
will say, "Look, this spot of ground 
was once my mother's herb garden. 
See these leaves of hardy sage, these 
horehound plants reseeding them- 
selves year after year. Always I see 
my mother in this place, bending 
over the savory herbs." It may be 
someone will remark: "This is 
precious ground, for here my cour- 
ageous mother-in-law stood on her 
desert homestead and turned the 
water into furrows where pinks and 
marigolds and zinnias grew in an 
arid place." Or, perhaps in a high 
mountain valley, we may see the 

yellow roses covering the fences 
with their bright gold. Through the 
years these yellow roses have been 
the very name and essence of beauty 
to women whose lives were some- 
times bleak as canyon winds. 

Our gardens are not for today's 
joy alone, rather they are a con- 
tinuing treasure — they are for deep 
remembrance — for our own re- 
membering, and for the heritage of 
our children, for the lasting love of 
home, when, in days to come, we 
shall speak to others and have some 
influence upon their thoughts 
through the long-remembered frag- 
rance of flowers and the beholding 
of the shining green leaves of spring. 

-V. P. C. 

JLeone (y. (Jacobs [Resigns cfrom the (general [Board 

f\N February 15, 1956, the general board accepted, with great reluctance, 
the resignation of Leone O. Jacobs from the general board after eleven 
years of outstanding service. 

At the time of her appointment, Sister Jacobs brought to the general 
board work a thorough knowledge of Relief Society work and procedures 
gained from experience in a foreign mission as well as in stakes of the 

Sister Jacobs' work on the general board has been versatile. In addi- 
tion to serving on various standing committees, she has written the visiting 
teacher lessons "Book of Mormon Gems of Truth" for five years. These 
lessons have been valuable aids for more righteous living among the sisters 
throughout the Church. Also of particular significance has been the work 
of Sister Jacobs as a general board representative on community programs 
in all of which she has shown great interest and taken an active part. 
Throughout the years of service to the general board Sister Jacobs has been 
fully supported by her devoted husband and children. 

Now as Sister Jacobs deems it wisdom to terminate her general board 
work, she carries with her the love and respect of every member with whom 
she has served, who pray that her future endeavors may also prove of great 
satisfaction and joy to her. 



ujrigham Ljoung University JLeadership vl/eek 


RIGHAM Young University Leadership Week will be held June 18-22, 
1956, on the Brigham Young University Campus, Provo, Utah. Relief 
Societv members have found the leadership classes of great interest and 
value and are looking forward to this year's program. The general board 
wishes to call to the attention of Relief Society members the following 
classes which, in addition to many others, it is believed, will be of special 
interest to Relief Society women: 

Concluding Messages of The Book of Mormon 
"How" for the Housewife 
Art in Everyday Life 
Beautifying the Home Grounds 
"Fashion Fair With a Forward Flair" 
Wisdom and Beauty Through Literature 
An Hour With Shakespeare 
Family Business Problems 
Getting the Most From Family Life 
Teaching Aids Clinic 

Improvement of Teaching III (for teachers of adults) 
Baton Techniques 
Music in the Church 

A detailed program may be obtained by requesting a copy of "Widen- 
ing Horizons" from Brigham Young University Extension Division, Provo, 

[Book of 1 1 lonnon LKeaaing [Project 

DEPORT forms on The Book of Mormon reading project will be sent 
to stake and mission Relief Society presidents in April 1956, and should 
be returned not later than July 15, 1956. The general board wishes to en- 
courage all sisters to do the reading of The Book of Mormon for this year, 
which includes the book of Helaman through 3 Nephi, chapter 14. 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 ' 



ulymn of the 1 1 loath 

The Church-wide congregational hymn singing project, inaugurated 
by the Church Music Committee, will be continued during the coming 
year, and all auxiliary organizations have been invited to participate. The 
purpose of this project is to increase the hymn repertoire of the Church 
members and to place emphasis on the message of the hymns. Stake chor- 
isters and organists are requested to give assistance at union meetings to 
ward choristers and organists in carrying out this project. 

An analysis and story of the hymn will be printed each month in the 
Church Section of the Dcseiet News. 

Following is a list of hymns approved for the twelve months July 
1956 to June 1957: 









1Q o7 




They, The Builders of the Nation — Alldredge-Durham 
Nearer, Dear Savior to Thee — Townscnd -Clay son 
Come, We That Love the Lord — Watts-Williams 
The Lord Be With Us — Anon. — Cannon 
Father, Thy Children to Thee Now Raise — Stephens 
O Little Town of Bethlehem — Brooks-Redner 

Oh Hark! A Glorious Sound Is Heard — Robinson-Asper 

Jehovah, Lord of Heaven and Earth — Holden 

He Is Risen — Alexander-Neandcr 

God Loved Us. So He Sent His Son — KimbalhSchremer 


J 73 


2 5 





Great King of Heaven, Our Hearts We Raise — Thomas-Robertson 53 
As Swiftly My Days Go Out on the Wing 5 

'Jjefore /light-Shadows cfall 

Maude O. Cook 

This day is spent — tomorrow may not be — 

We meet the challenge which this moment brings, 

To break our shackles, conquer and be free, 

And turn both thought and deed to nobler things . 

This moment is our own, heed, then, its call, 

And use it well before night-shadows fall. 

Lancer— ^/l i^heck- Lip and a Lheck 

Sandra Munsell 

Supervisor, Magazine Advertising Services, American Cancer Society 

n^HIS April, the American Cancer Society will intensify its year-round 
educational program by urging all Americans to fight cancer with a 
check-up and a check ... a check-up to save their own lives, a check to save 
the lives of their fellows. To carry on its nation-wide program of scientific 
research, professional and public education, and service to patients, the 
Society seeks to raise $26,000,000. This is a particularly significant figure. 
If present rates continue, 26,000,000 Americans now alive will die of cancer. 
In a few short years we've seen the discovery of antibiotics, new wonder 
drugs for tuberculosis, a vaccine for polio. We will see the conquest of 
cancer, too, if people want it badly enough. Last year the American Cancer 
Society was unable to fill requests for research funds totaling almost 
$3,000,000. The reason— not enough money. 

Cancer and healthy cells seem to feed on different kinds of "food." 
We know how to make some cancer cells die by starving them. Will we 
starve out all kinds of cancer cells one day? Onlv more work and research 
will tell. 

Some cancer patients develop substances that fight their own tumors. 
When science knows more about antibodies, we may have a new cancer 
treatment. Only more work and research will tell. 

Some cancers are being halted by atomic materials. Can new radio- 
active isotopes affect other cancers in the same way? Only more work and 
research will tell. 

New drugs are being developed that fight specific kinds of cancer. 
Will any of them turn out to be cancer-killers? Only more work and re- 
search will tell. 

The law of averages says that cancer will kill one out of every six 
Americans. But the law does not have to prevail. You can help break 
it in two ways. By having a thorough medical checkup every year . . . and 
by sending a contribution to your unit of the American Cancer Society 
or to Cancer, c/o your town's Postmaster. 

Fight cancer with a checkup and a check. 


Beuhh lluish SadJeir 

When the heart is rilled with grief — 
Plant a flower or rake a leaf; 
Heaven's hope is centered where 
Two busy hands make silent prayer. 

Page 244 

Lesson From Letty 

Arlene D. Cloward 

Today I grew up. Oh, 
I'm only one day older in 
time, but years older in wisdom, 
and it all happened because today 
was my Mother's birthday. I 
learned my lesson from Letty. Early 
this morning no one could have 
told me that I could learn anything 
from my little eight-year-old sister, 
as we sat on the front steps planning 
what to get for our Mother. I was 
so deeply engrossed that I scarcely 
even knew that she was there. It 
was a very beautiful day, with the 
sky all clear and blue and the sun 
glimmering through the big trees, 
making lacy patterns on the dewy 
grass. The lawn spray sent forth a 
pleasant, fresh shower of water and 
gave the earth a cool, fragrant odor 
as it had after a rain, and a colorful 
rainbow sparkled in an arch. 

Letty looked about with happy 
blue eyes, seeming to drink in the 
beauty of the morning. I was just 
a little resentful that it should be 
all up to me to get a present for 
Mother, and to do all of the worry- 
ing—financially. Oh, not that I 
didn't want to give her the finest 
things in the world, I did, and that 
was what made it so hard on my 
small funds. Finally I straightened 
up and smiled. "I've got it!" 

"What?" Letty asked eagerly. 
"Have you thought of what we can 
get for Mommie?" 

Suddenly I wanted to have my 
present from me alone. "Yes," I 
snapped, a little roughly. Letty 
held out her grimy hand with its 
five pennies. "Here, take my money 

too, then. So it can be from both 
of us." 

I laughed. "Goose! That won't 
even pay the tax." I didn't really 
want to be cruel, just plain. Well, 
Letty's face looked as white as if I 
had slapped it, and I had to hurry 
and turn away before I changed my 
mind and took her five pennies after 
all. It was time that she grew up 
and realized what it was like to have 
to do all of the planning as I had 
to do. Being the oldest of five, this 
had always befallen me and, actual- 
ly, I loved my role, and was feeling 
very superior for my fifteen years. 

"When I was your age I got 
Mother my own presents," I said 
and ran quickly into the house, leav- 
ing a very crushed and unhappy lit- 
tle girl. As I dressed to go into 
town I felt perfectly terrible, and 
could hardly wait to go back out- 
side and take Letty's five pennies. 
She had been so sweet and happy, 
and I had ruined it all for her. 
Quickly I slipped into the new dress 
Mother had made for me and 
thought, with a flood of love, how 
lucky we all were to have someone 
like her, and I was very glad that 
I had saved my baby-sitting money 
so that I could buy her the beautiful 
blue dress that she had admired in 
the store. It would be just perfect 
with her lovely, silvery hair. 

I ran down the stairs and heard 
Mother and Letty talking from the 
front porch. Slipping quietly out, 
I could see Letty's little rosy face 
uplifted and beaming and her eyes 
shining. "See, Mommie, see how 
the water makes a rainbow and the 

Page 24^ 



little drops of water look like big 
pearls on the grass." 

Well, I thought, she certainly re- 
covered quickly from her hurt, and 
it made me feel a great deal better. 
I should have known that nothing 
ever worries Letty for very long, and 
I was glad that it didn't, because 
Mother's dark eyes were smiling 
happily and she was gazing at the 
rainbow as if she had never seen 
one before. Some of the tired lines 
had vanished, and she looked so 
lovely and serene that it almost took 
my breath away. I bent and kissed 
her cheek. ''Bye, Mom, I've got 
to go into town for awhile." 

Mother nodded, almost absently, 
for Letty was already leading her 
by the hand to where the first vio- 
lets were blooming in profusion 
along the white fence, chattering 
gaily that they looked almost like 

I walked on down the path, 
thinking that though I hadn't been 
able to tell Letty I'd love to include 
her in my present, I could take her 
contribution when I arrived home. 
After all, there was very little that 
an eight-year-old could do before 

TT was a nice day to take a walk, 
and a cool breeze stirred through 
my hair. When I reached town I 
bought the dress happily, thinking 
of the joy that it would bring to 
Mother's face, and then I had to 
stop in at Janie's to plan our party 
for that evening. It was close to 
noon by the time I arrived back 
home. As I came through the gate 
I saw Letty on her hands and knees 
by the flower bed, carefully weeding 
out the stray grass and weeds, leav- 

ing the violets in a bed of soft, 
brown earth. It enhanced their 
delicate beauty so that I stopped to 
gaze at them. 

Letty didn't look up but con- 
tinued to work with loving gentle- 
ness, and I went on into the house 
and hastily hid my bundle in my 

After lunch I had to hurry back 
into town to buv the things for our 
party, and this time I left a little 
shamefaced, for Letty was happily 
preparing to send Mother off on a 
nice walk— perhaps even to the 
beauty shop to have her hair done, 
while she took up Mike, the baby, 
to tend him. 

'I'll take Mike with me, Letty," 
I volunteered, but she just hugged 
him and nestled her nose against 
him to make him giggle. "No. I 
want to tend him. You go ahead 
and go, and, Mommie," she added, 
calling after Mother as she went 
down the walk, "take just as long as 
you want." Mother beamed back 
with that same shining look in her 
eyes, as if she were still seeing a 

The house was quiet when I re- 
turned and, peeking in at Mother's 
bedroom door, I saw Mike curled 
up fast asleep in his crib. Letty was 
bent over the desk in the living 
room, laboriously concentrating on 
a bowl of violets before her. I 
slipped up behind her and glanced 
over her shoulder to see that she 
was very painstakingly trying to 
copy the violets on a piece of folded 
drawing paper. She had smeared 
the lines a little with her small, 
grubby little palm, but the likeness 
was there, and she was beginning to 



color the violets with her purple 

"Letty, I want to apologize. I'd 
like very much to have your five 

Letty didn't look up, but she 
grinned. "Oh, no, Judy. You were 
right. I should give Mommie my 
very own present and I'm going to. 
Thanks anyway." She continued to 
color the violets earnestly, trying to 
deepen the purple in the center, 
and I suddenly felt overwhelmingly 

"May I see the inside, honey?" 

Letty opened the card eagerly, 
and I read the little verse almost 
through a screen of tears, not know- 
ing why for sure myself. It was a 
simple little wish— perhaps that was 
the beauty of it. It said in a large 
but carefully printed scrawl: "Dear- 
est Mommie, I hope that your birth- 
day is as happy and as beautiful as 

your favrite flower. With love, Let- 
j. » 

"Do you think she'll like it 
Judy?" Letty asked anxiously. 

I put my arms around the little 
shoulders that were already bending 
back over the card. "Darling, she'll 
love it." 

Letty smiled, her own quick smile 
of sunshine, and I had to hurry and 
turn away so that she couldn't see 
my tears. 

As soon as I reached the hall I 
picked up the telephone and dialed 
Janie. She protested when I told 
her I couldn't make it to our party 
after all, that it was very important 
that I spend the evening at home, 
it was my Mother's birthday. I was 
insistent, and, finally, she laughed, 
"Well, to tell you the truth that's 
one time when I always try to stay 
home, too." 

T TP in the little room that Letty 
and I shared I wrapped the gift 
I had for Mother with almost a 
feeling of shame. It wasn't nearly 
good enough for her, not nearly so 
good as the little card that Letty 
was coloring. 

That evening after dinner we 
handed our presents to Mother, as 
she sat at the head of the table. Her 
hair was shiny in the light of the 
candles on the cake that Daddy had 
brought her, and she looked at 
everything with joy and happiness, 
but I knew that the expression I 
had wanted to see would come 
when Letty made her presentation. 
She thanked me with a smile of 
delight, but I was quietly waiting- 
waiting for the best moment of all. 

Letty shyly came up beside Moth- 
er and laid the card in her hand and 
brought out a little bunch of violets 
fastened with a pretty yellow satin 
ribbon to a lace doilie that I had 
seen in a store for five pennies. She 
pinned it very carefully to Mother's 
collar, and stepped back, beaming. 

Mother read the verse, and the 
tears welled up in her deep eyes, 
but she smiled with that joy and 
pride and love for which I had been 

Letty had given Mother the very 
best present of all. She had given 
her an afternoon of leisure and en- 
joyment. She had given her the 
rainbow and the beauty of the bed 
of violets, but above all, she had 
given of herself— so sweetly and so 
unconsciously in her little card of 

So you see, dear Diary, I learned 
a lesson from Letty today. It isn't 
how much you give nor how much 
it cost, but what you give of your- 

cJypical ujrtttsh Lrieapes 

Submitted by Ehine Reiser 

Irish Vegetable Tartlets 

l A lb. short pastry (pie crust dough) 1 oz. grated cheese 

salt and pepper young carrots (as desired) 

1 cup shelled young peas Irish potatoes (as desired) 

yolk of 1 egg Vz pint white sauce 

1 tbsp. lemon juice 

Time: About 30 minutes. Temperature for pastry: 42 5 ° F. Serves 4. 

Scrape young carrots and dice enough to fill a breakfast cup, and the same quantity 
of new Irish potatoes. Boil these and the peas separately until done. Roll out the 
pastry, sprinkle it with very finely grated cheese. Fold and roll out again. Cover the 
outsides of well-greased patty pans with the dough and bake at 42 5 ° F. 

Make Vi pint of ordinary white sauce, season it well with salt and pepper, stir in 
the beaten yolk of an egg and stir over very gentle heat for three minutes. Then add the 
lemon juice. 

See that cooked vegetables are well drained, and mix them with this sauce. 

Slip the tins out of the cooked pastry cases, fill them with the vegetables and 
serve very hot. 

Welsh Rarebit 

6 oz. cheese V& tsp. salt and half that of pepper 

Vs tsp. mustard 2 tbsp. cream or milk 

1 oz. butter or margarine 4 slices hot buttered toast 

Time: 5 to 10 minutes. Temperature: low. Serves 4. 

Put the butter in a small saucepan and when it has melted mix with it the pepper, 
salt, and mustard, the cream, and finely grated cheese. Stir over very gentle heat until 
it is a smooth mixture, but do not let it boil. Spread the mixture thickly on the toast 
and serve at once, or brown under a grill if preferred. 

Suet Pudding 

X A lb. suet pinch of salt 

Vz lb. flour 1 tsp. baking powder 

Vz pint milk or water Vz oz. margarine or dripping 

Time: 3 hours. Temperature: moderate, 350 . Serves 4. 

Shred the suet very finely. Sift the flour with the baking powder and add the suet. 
Mix to a rather soft dough with milk or water. Turn it into well-greased basin, cover 
with waxed paper, and steam for three hours. 

Inexpensive Christmas Pudding 

Vz lb. breadcrumbs 

Vz lb. raisins 

2 oz. candied peel 

6 oz. molasses 

2 eggs 

1 oz. dripping or margarine 

Time: 8 hours. Temperature: moderate, 350 F. Serves 8 to 10. 

Grate the suet finely. Mix the flour with the baking powder and spice and sift 

Page 248 











tsp. mixed 
tsp. baking 
tbsp. milk 



them. Cut raisins finely. Slice or grate peel. Add fruit and suet to the flour and mix 
thoroughly. Whisk the eggs well, then beat them into the other ingredients. Warm 
the molasses, add the milk to it and beat this in. When evenly mixed, turn into well- 
greased bowl, cover with waxed paper, then with a cloth and boil for eight hours. Store 
in a cool, dry place, with plenty of air. 

Scottish Scones 

iVz c. flour i tbsp. sugar 

2 tsp. baking powder 2 eggs 

buttermilk to mix 

Time: about 10 minutes. Temperature: hot, 400 F. 

Mix the sugar, baking powder, and flour together, add the beaten eggs, and, by 
degrees, enough buttermilk (about 1 Vi cups) to make a thin batter. It must be care- 
fully mixed, so that it is free from lumps. Drop the batter a little at a time on a 
griddle, cook for about five minutes, turning them when ready. These scones are eaten 
piping hot with butter, and honey if desired. 

Mint Jelly 
(To serve with lamb) 

4 lb. sharp flavored cooking apples 
1 lb. preserving sugar to every pint of juice 
12 good sprays mint 

Time: about 1 hour. Temperature: moderate, 350 F. 

Wash the apples and cut them in small pieces, but do not peel or core them. Put 
them in a stewpan with enough water to cover and simmer until they are quite soft. 
Do not stir them, for to look nice this jelly should be very clear. When soft, turn in- 
to a sieve to drain and leave until they have ceased to drip. Then put the juice into a 
stewpan. Bruise the mint and add it, stalks as well as leaves. Simmer for ten min- 
utes. Then strain the juice, measure it, and put it into a preserving pan with the sugar, 
and boil until it jellies when tested. Add a few drops of green coloring, but be careful 
not to overdo it; it should be a pale green. Remove the excess foam which has boiled 
to the top. Pour into small, dry pots and cover when cold. 

Green Tomato Chutney 

2 lb. green tomatoes 1 lb. brown sugar 

2 lb. green apples Vz lb. small raisins 

Vz oz. whole ginger 6 red chili peppers 

2 oz. garlic 1 pint vinegar 

Time: about 1 hour. Temperature: moderate, 350 F. 

Quarter the tomatoes. Peel and core the apples and cut them in pieces; peel the 
garlic. Mix these ingredients together and put them through a grinder. Put the mix- 
ture into a preserving pan; add the sugar, raisins, chili, peppers, vinegar and the ginger 
tied in a small bag of muslin. Bring slowly to the boil, then simmer until thick and 
soft. Remove the ginger and squeeze out as much juice as possible. Pour into hot, 
dry jars and cover with paraffin. 

Josef Muench 


Kyld-QJaskioned CJ lowers in lliodem (gardens 

Dorthea N. Newbold 
Garden Editor, Deseiet News and Telegram 

WHETHER you live in an 
apartment, in a house on 
a city lot, or whether your 
home is located on a farm or ranch, 
you can have a garden. Gardening 
may be practiced on a large scale 
with hired help, or on a much 
smaller scale by caring for a few 
plants on a window sill. Garden- 
ing will bring pleasure and relaxa- 

Page 250 

tion to the gardener, for the contact 
with growing plants reawakens our 
hope and faith in the future. Work- 
ing with soil and seeds brings a 
serenity into our busy lives. 

Our grandmothers must have 
realized and enjoyed the healing in- 
fluence when working with growing 
plants. Though their cabins were 
located many hundreds of miles 



from cities, and possibly set down 
in the middle of the desert, the 
pioneer woman struggled to have 
her own garden. She not only 
raised vegetables to vary the daily 
meals she prepared, but she also 
cultivated annual and perennial 
flowers to satisfy her craving for 
beauty. Who could imagine a cab- 
in without a row of geraniums on 
the window sills? 


Usually those pioneer women 
had two types of geraniums — the 
type which we know as the zonal 
geraniums, and the scented gerani- 
ums. Generally the zonal geraniums 
were propagated by slips handed 
from one neighbor to another, root- 
ed in a bit of soil, or it might be 
that one was fortunate enough to 
secure a few seeds and start them 
into growth. Every plant that grew 
would produce a different colored 
flower — and weren't those women 
delighted if they were so fortunate 
as to get an apple-blossom pink, or 
a rose pink! 

While the scented geraniums 
were easy to grow from slips, the 
blooms were not pretty — but they 
were a desirable house plant because 
their foliage was aromatic. At jelly- 
making time, the leaves were 
picked, washed carefully, and one 
leaf was placed in the bottom of 
each jelly glass. Hot jelly poured 
over them would bring out the 
aromatic oils and would give the 
jelly an enticing flavor. 

Leaves of the scented geraniums 
and of lavender were gathered, and 
dried, and spread between the 
household linens. Often tiny sa- 
chet bags were made for the same 

purpose. One wonders just what 
those homemakers would say if 
they could have their choice from 
among the more than forty va- 
rieties of scented geraniums that 
are on the markets today. 


The zinnias that our grandmoth- 
ers raised were not exactly spec- 
tacular garden subjects. Zinnias 
have been greatly improved by 
plant hybridizers, and, in the pro- 
cess, have traveled around the 

Zinnias are natives of Mexico. 
Johann Gottfried Zinn, a German 
botanist and Doctor of Medicine, 
found them in the hills of Mexico 
in 1757. Seeds were gathered and 
taken back to Europe, and were 
grown in just a few gardens. The 



Dorthea Newbold 


As seen in the Luzon Crosby gardens, 
Orem, Utah 



Dorthea Newbold 


plants were rather weedy-looking 
things, blooms were a single row of 
petals of a magenta-purple color 
with a cone-like center. 

In Oude, India, in about 1853, 
the first "break" in zinnias occur- 
red. A gardener there found the 
first double flower. Seeds were 
gathered and some were sent to 
Paris, where, in 1856, just one hun- 
dred years ago, the first double 
zinnias were exhibited. In 1861, 
zinnias, double and two and one- 
half inches in diameter were adver- 
tised in an English gardening cata- 
log. The next move was to the 
North American Continent. Here, 
plant hybridizers have continued 
their work on zinnias until now we 
have them in a rainbow of colors, 
and in just about every size from 
the tiny ones an inch in diameter, 

to huge ones that measure six inch- 
es across. Fabulous, spectacular, 
superior, dazzling — these words 
are necessary to use to describe the 
new beauties. 

Hardy Roses 

As civilization made the western 
march, the women found that some 
types of flowers could endure the 
long trip and would soon put down 
roots in the new home. Harrison's 
yellow rose, an easy to grow June- 
blooming rose, is to be found in 
every section of our great country. 
It could and does endure the ex- 
tremes of high or low altitudes, 
alkali or acid soil, extreme heat or 

The moss roses, which every pio- 
neer woman longed to have in her 
garden, have now become choice 



items in a collector's garden. It 
is quite the fashion to grow the 
old-fashioned roses. Some have a 
garden filled with the older types, 
others use many of the new hybrid 
tea roses, and then plant a few of 
the older kinds for background. 
But, wherever they are found grow- 
ing, they put on an annual display 
in June — and they earn their spot 
in the garden. 


Lilacs and peonies, snowballs and 
sweet Williams, "pinks" and holly- 
hocks were also found in those 
gardens of long ago. 

Lilacs, either white or purple, 
with their wonderful fragrance, 
could be set out in any type of soil 
or climate and would become per- 
fectly happy and thriving plants. 
Today, there are hundreds of va- 
rieties for us to select from, and 
they, too, are just as easy to grow 
as was the old-type lilac vulgaris. 


The varieties of peonies number 
well into the hundreds today, and 
fortunate was the pioneer gardener 
who had a start of the old "Piney." 
Many of those plants, set out long 
years ago, are still growing and 
blooming, for peonies are just as 
rugged as were some of the garden- 
ers who planted them. Well-grown 
plants of the newest varieties will 
attain four feet in height — and 
almost that in diameter, while 
blooms will be ten to twelve inches 

Our grandmothers were able to 
have gardens with the types of 
flowers that were available to them. 
Today, with a wide selection of 
plants, and hundreds of different 
varieties where there used to be but 
one, we should really have wonder- 
ful gardens — yes, and we should 
have a wonderful time while we are 

LKememver cJodi 


Daphne Jemmett 

When we are caught in life's swift stream- 
No turning back to drift or dream, 

When different paths our feet will find — 
And miss the ones we've left behind, 

I'll hold this day fast in my heart 
To light the years when we're apart. 

I'll see the hills across the sea — 

The gray gulls dip — the winds blow free, 

The white sails fill before the breeze; 
I'll warm my heart from days like these. 

Qjiie [Relief Society illagazine - - Jx TTiessenger 

Emily C. PoIJei 

Magazine Representative, Emigration Stake, Salt Lake City, Utah 

[Talk Presented in the Magazine Department Meeting at the Annual General Relief 
Society Conference, September 29, 1955] 

IN speaking to you today, dear 
sisters, I am reminded of the 
words of a famous trial lawyer 
who was asked to explain his suc- 
cess with juries. He replied, "First, 
I tell them what I am going to tell 
them, then I tell them, and then 
I tell them what I have told them." 
Such an approach should sell The 
Relief Society Magazine. 

Each one of us is here today be- 
cause of a calling to serve in our 
Church, and I, for one, am very 
grateful for this privilege of being 
a stake Magazine representative. I 
had just been released from being 
a ward president when I was asked 
to be the Magazine representative 
on the stake board. 

At the first board meeting I at- 
tended, I noticed that I was made 
very welcome, but, really, the other 
departments had much to discuss 
and took the attention of the presi- 
dent. I knew then that this was 
really a challenging position and it 
was up to me to earn all of the re- 
spect I could for our Magazine de- 
partment. My former ward Maga- 
zine representative encouraged me 
by telling me how much I had as- 
sisted her. She said every oppor- 
tunity I had, I had been enthus- 
iastic about the Magazine being 
brought to the attention of the 
members. She reminded me that 
after I had made my visits to new 
members or any inactive members, 

Page 254 

I would call and report to her, giv- 
ing her information that would help 
her in selling the Magazine to them, 
such as hobbies, interests, and any 
talents the prospects might possess. 

Effective Selling by Visual Aids 

Now, I know that this Relief So- 
ciety Magazine selling and reselling 
is a tremendous job, and I am doing 
everything in my power to help my 
ward representatives so that they 
can do effective selling all twelve 
months of the year. Because of our 
inexperience, we must study selling 
techniques and present them at 
union meeting. A thousand words 
will not make us understand as will 
one picture. The optic nerve which 
carries impressions from the eye to 
the brain is eight times as large as 
the auditory nerve which carries im- 
pressions from the ear to the brain. 
The power of concentration is very 
short, and if we have attractive 
posters around the Relief Society 
room, when the mind wanders, as 
it sometimes does even in the best 
of us, these posters will attract at- 
tention and suggest a worthwhile 
thought. Never use very many 
posters at one time, as too many are 
confusing. All these posters we 
make could be made by the ward 
representatives in union meeting 
and then used interchangeably in 
the stake. Other suggestive ways of 
mentioning the Magazine are writ- 



ing poems and themes of lessons on 
the blackboard. Bulletin boards can 
be used or even placing informa- 
tion in a ward news letter helps. 

Aids in Selling 

In our stake we have used two 
letters which are mailed to the 
homes, one to appeal to the new 
mothers, and the other to the work- 
ing mothers. We also collect a 
good supply of old copies of the 
Magazine and send one out to a 
nonsubscriber; two or three days 
later, we follow up with a visit. 

Another tool we use in selling 
those whom we contact is to carry 
with us a loose-leaf notebook on our 
calls, with the twelve Magazine cov- 
ers and indexes enclosed in cello- 
phane folders. Also, we are watch- 
ful for suggestions to be gained 
through other advertising, such as 
from bus ads, letters, signboards, 
and magazines. 

Promotional Work 

First, remember to work closely 
with the stake Relief Society presi- 
dency; second, begin the fall season 
with great enthusiasm; third, out- 
line a program for the coming year. 
Before starting the fall season, the 
stake Magazine representative, with 
the approval of the stake Relief So- 
ciety presidency, might invite all 
the ward representatives, with their 
ward presidents, to a special meet- 
ing or social and there give definite 
instructions and exchange ideas, 
making sure that each representative 
realizes the full responsibility of her 
duties. Then the first union meet- 
ing could be used as a workshop to 
get ready for the beginning of the 
October meetings. It is advisable 

to use discretion in promotional 
work, giving special emphasis to the 
Magazine in a regular Relief Society 
meeting about three times a year, 
as highlights. 

Recognition of Magazine 

The January work meeting day 
might be an excellent occasion for 
recognizing the ward Magazine rep- 
resentatives. The entire program 
could be planned around various 
aspects of the Magazine, its special 
features and its departments. The 
luncheon tables might be decorated 
with pictures or motifs taken from 
the Magazine. The favors, also, 
could be worked out to represent 
the versatility and the usefulness of 
the various sections of the Maga- 
zine. Some suggestions for season- 
al parties, which might be applied 
to a Magazine theme, are given in 
the article "A Party That's Differ- 
ent" (Relief Society Magazine, Feb- 
ruary 1953, page 101). 

At one of the spring union meet- 
ings, the stake president could ac- 
knowledge the stake Magazine rep- 
resentative for her accomplishments, 
then, in turn, the stake Magazine 
representative could express her 
gratitude for the support and suc- 
cess the ward Magazine representa- 
tives achieved. Here is an oppor- 
tunity for the ward sisters to re- 
spond and give testimonies of their 

Using the Magazine As a Theme 

For the Anniversary observance, 
or for the closing social in the 
spring, the theme of the party could 
well be planned with the Magazine 
as the center of interest, since its 



contents embody all phases of Re- 
lief Society work, as well as the in- 
terests and hobbies of women in 
their homes. The November 1953 
Magazine lists a large number of ex- 
cellent programs, plays, and pag- 
eants which may be secured from 
the office of the general board for 
fifteen cents each. (See pages 745- 
749.) The series "Adventures in 
Glass/' by Alberta H. Christensen, 
presented in the Magazine during 
1952 and 1953 contains a wealth of 
material which might well serve as 

a theme for a most enjoyable and 
instructive luncheon or other pro- 

Repetition of the words Relief 
Society Magazine will forever make 
us conscious of its worth. I am con- 
vinced that it is the mouthpiece of 
Relief Society, and, if I will study 
the words therein, it will give me 
knowledge and understanding to 
rear my family, and my family will 
receive inspiration and knowledge 
from its contents. 

Crier C^tft 

DeIJa Adams Leitner 

She took the odds and ends of things 

That others throw away, 
And by her alchemy of skill 

She fashioned them till they 
Were something useful, something bright, 

From counterpane to toy; 
Creative knack, a talent used 

To share a wealth of joy. 

And not alone material, 

But time she valued, too; 
The moments some might waste she used 

And from them something new 
Of service, comfort, help came forth; 

And so her life became 
A fountainhead of happiness 

And many blessed her name. 



Celia Luce 

OES trouble bring blessings with it? The argument has raged all down the 

Yet there is surely one blessing that trouble brings. It puts small annoyances 
into their proper place, far into the background, and gives one a sense of proportion. 
It teaches one the singing happiness of just an ordinary trouble-free day, a day with 
one's husband and children near and well, and a small part of the world's work to do. 

A day free of great trouble is a gem to be turned slowly in the mind so that its 
every sparkle is savored and brings the deep, glorious satisfaction it should. 

ibtia LKaadau JLewts [Pieces slutlts for aiapptness 

T^LLA Randall Lewis, eighty-nine years old, of Tempe, Arizona, pieces quilts that bring 
*-* happiness to her and joy and comfort to those who are privileged to have the 
beautiful quilts in their homes. Many quilts pieced and quilted by Sister Lewis have 
been donated to the Relief Society, and she has worked on hundreds of others in 
company with her sisters in Relief Society meetings. "Busy fingers make happy hearts," 
is a philosophy of life that has meant much to Sister Lewis, for even when she is bed- 
fast, her fingers can still ply the needle and her stitches are small and even — measured 
in beauty. 

Sister Lewis is an expert at hand and machine sewing, and at one time she owned 
a loom and wove many beautiful rugs. She has served for many years in various official 
capacities in Relief Society, contributing much time and effort towards the success of 
the work meeting program. She has five children, fourteen grandchildren, and twenty- 
one great-grandchildren. 

Clear Us a uiabit 

Anne S. W. Gould 

Tj^EAR destroys most people's happiness. Away with fear, it is your worst enemy. 
* Don't entertain it, put in its place courage, hope, and love. Fear really is a habit 
and a foolish one. Emerson said, "Never set sail to a fear." 

Page 257 

The Day Before the Wedding 

Dorothy Boys Kilian 

AT four o'clock Janie Marston 
adjusted the last pair of 
flowered chintz draperies on 
their rod, stepped down oft the lad- 
der and sighed with satisfaction. It 
had been a frantically full day, the 
one before her wedding, but what 
fun — arranging everything just the 
way she wanted it in this first home 
of her very own. 

Hers and Dean's, she amended 
warmly as she heard a car turn into 
the drive outside. This is the way 
it would be, always and forever, 
after tomorrow — listening for his 
coming in the evening, running to 
greet her husband. Starry-eyed, 
Janie forgot how tired she was, as 
she hurried eagerly to the back door. 

Looking down the steps, she 
stared in amazement at the big, 
orange crate-filled trailer attached 
on behind the familiar blue con- 

"Hi, darling," Dean called up as 
he stepped out of the car. "Just 
picked this stuff up at the Railway 
Express." He waved an arm breez- 
ily toward the load behind him. 

Janie glanced wildly around the 
tiny apartment, mentally measuring 
the capacity of its little cupboards, 
its two skimpy closets. "What on 
earth's in all those boxes?" she 
asked apprehensively as her lanky, 
sandy-haired young man bounded 
up the steps. 

Dean grinned. "Don't you know, 
little girl, that curiosity once killed 
a cat?" 

He was close to her now, and 

Page 258 

Janie felt his arm come around her 
tight. For a delicious moment she 
forgot everything but the dear near- 
ness of this man who was going to 
be hers, hers completely. 

Finally, though, she lifted her 
head and looked over his shoulder. 
"But, really, Dean, what is all that 
stuff? I thought we'd brought 
everything except the wedding pres- 
ents over here this morning." 

"It's boxes of my own things 
Mother just sent on from Sacra- 
mento," Dean explained. "She's 
had 'em stored in the attic ever since 
I left home." He chuckled. "I'll bet 
she's glad to be able to palm 'em 
off on you." 

"Things?" Janie echoed blankly. 

"Honey, you may not know it, 
but you're marrying a pack rat," 
Dean called back cheerfully as he 
disappeared down the stairs to the 

As Janie watched in bewilder- 
ment, he came staggering back up 
with a huge cardboard carton. Set- 
ting it down with a thud that made 
the floor lamp dance, he said, "I 
know right where to put this load. 
Thought of it when the landlady 
was showing us the apartment." He 
reached down and took hold of the 
handles of a large flat drawer in the 
bottom of the studio couch. 

"She said that place was for 
blanket storage," Janie reminded 
him gently. She didn't know exact- 
ly what was in that box, but it cer- 
tainly wasn't bedding. 

"Blankets?" Dean muttered 



vaguely. "Oh, yes, we'll put 'em 
somewhere. But, look what a great 
place this will be for our prize speci- 
mens!" He swept open the drawer 
and began depositing in it the con- 
tents of the box. 

"Rocks!" Janie breathed. 

r\EAN sat back on his heels and 
smiled. "I suppose you might 
call them that, if you didn't know 
anything about them," he conceded 
tolerantly. "Actually, they're the 
cream of my mineral collection." 

"And all those other boxes?" 
Janie's eyebrows were rising higher 
by the second. 

"Oh, other hobby stuff. Boy, it'll 
be fun to get back to 'em," Dean 
answered enthusiastically. 

Janie stared at this man whom 
she had thought she knew so well. 
"I didn't realize you had all these 
interests," she said slowly. 

"The truth is," Dean laughed, 
shutting the rock drawer with a 
slam, "since I came here to Bakers- 
field six months ago, I've been so 
busy trying to add you to my col- 
lection that I haven't had time for 
any of my hobbies." 

Janie frowned. So she was just 
his newest hobby, was she? 

"If you're worrying about where 
to put the blankets," Dean said, 
"I've got just the solution." He ran 
out of the room. 

A couple of minutes later there 
was a great thumping and bumping 
on the stairs and he reappeared, 
dragging his wardrobe trunk into 
the apartment. "We can put this 
in the bedroom closet and use it 
for a storage chest," he puffed. 
"Matter of fact, I don't think 
there'll be room for it in the garage 

anyway, after I get my work bench 

"That huge thing won't fit in 
there," Janie wailed. 

"Sure it will," Dean said con- 
fidently. "Let's see." He strode 
into the bedroom and wrenched 
open the closet door. "It'll fit if 
you put this thing somewhere else," 
he announced, backing out with a 
bulging full-length garment bag. 

"But those are my winter coats!" 

"Well, chuck 'em in the trunk, 
along with a lot of other things." 

"This bag has already been moth- 
proofed," Janie protested, with the 
vehemence of a person who's begin- 
ning to feel pushed around. 

For a moment Dean looked baf- 
fled. Then he plopped the bag on 
the couch and put his arms around 
her. "This housekeeping business 
is pretty complicated, isn't it?" he 
teased fondly. "But, honey, togeth- 
er, we can lick any problem in the 
world." He gave her a quick hug 
and started out of the room. "I'm 
going down to get the rest of the 
boxes," he called back. "Why don't 
you take the coats back to your 
mother's for awhile? It'll be months 
before you'll need 'em." 

"Men!" Janie groaned. For the 
first time since about the age of 
twelve, she felt a sweeping exaspera- 
tion for the whole male sex. 

W 1 

'HEN Dean came back into the 
room she took a deep breath. 
"Let's finish up the kitchen," she 
said doggedly, moving over toward 
a carton of pans. "Can you carry 
this last box of stuff out there?" 

"Sure thing," Dan agreed. He 
picked up the box with one hand 
and pushed open the swinging door 



with the other. "Say/' he ex- 
claimed as he stared around the 
bright, yellow-walled room. "I can 
keep my photo-developing gear in 
this top cupboard. With running 
water and all," he turned on the 
tap, "the kitchen will do for a dark 

Janie smiled, a frigid, set smile 
which should have frozen the drip- 
ping water into an icicle. "There's 
always the chance," she said acidly, 
"that I might open a can of Hypo 
for supper some night." 

"No, you won't," Dean answered 
seriously. "Because I'm going to 
show you what all the stuff is, and 
how to use it. It'll be fun having 
an assistant." He lifted an eyebrow 
and grinned at her. "Interesting 
possibilities here — two people like 
us in a dark room together . . . ." 
He started towards her. 

"Oh, go away!" Janie burst out 
crossly. She could feel the tears 
coming into her eyes. 

Dean was still standing close to 
her, a puzzled expression on his 
face. "Janie . . ." he began uncer- 

"I don't want to know how to 
develop pictures," Janie almost 
shouted. "I don't even know wheth- 
er I want to . . . ." She stopped, 
horrified at what she'd been about 
to say. Now she was sure she was 
going to cry. It would have been 
such a comfort to lay her head 
against Dean's solid shoulder and 
have it out. But, no, she couldn't 
very well do that when he was the 
cause of it ... . 

"I'm all mixed up," she finished 
lamely. "Just leave me alone." 

"All right, Janie," Dean said 
quietly. "I know you're tired. I'll 

go clean up the living room." He 
went out, letting the door swing 
shut after him with a definite 

Through her tears, Janie stared 
up at the high cupboard. "It'll be 
fun having an assistant," she echoed 
under her breath. 

She saw herself mixing his Hypo 
for him, dusting his rocks, spending 
lonely hours upstairs while he 
banged around at his work bench 
in the garage below. Perhaps he's 
getting married just so he'll have a 
place to park his junk, she thought 

Right then and there she knew 
she had to have it out with him. 

She gave the swinging door a 
violent push. It gave an inch or 
two and then refused to budge. She 
pushed harder, to no avail. 

"Dean," she called in a panic. 
"This door — it won't open." 

"Wait a minute," Dean answered 
soothingly from the other side. 
"Guess I put one too many under 
the rug here." 

She heard a shuffling noise. 

"Now try it," he told her. 

TANIE gave a determined push and 
practically fell into the living 
room. Dean was down on his hands 
and knees rolling up a brightly col- 
ored sheet of heavy paper. 

"One too many what?" Janie ex- 

"Maps," Dean said briefly. "This 
one's of Central Europe, with 
boundaries as they were in 1870. 
Temporarily, we can store them flat 
under the rugs." 

"Of all the crazy things . . . ." 
"Mom had wall-to-wall carpeting 
all over the house," Dean went on 



disgustedly. "So I had to keep my 
maps folded up. But here in our 
own place," his face brightened, 
"well keep things the way they 
should be kept." He crawled over 
to the other side of the rug. "Maybe 
I can get this one under this side," 
he muttered. 

Things the way they should be 
kept! Janie, breathing hard, looked 
over at the blanket drawer full of 
rocks, through the open bedroom 
door at the big black trunk jammed 
into the closet, and then down at 
the bulging rug. 

Suddenly, staring at the floor, her 
eyes focused on the front page of 
an old newspaper in which one of 
the maps had been wrapped. "Play- 
boy Sued for Divorce," the headlines 

Feeling, at this moment, an un- 
comfortably personal interest in 
marital problems, she leaned over 
to read the finer type. "Out every 
night," the article went on. "Re- 
turning home in the wee hours. No 
interests at home, although he gave 
his wife his complete and devoted 
attention at first 

Janie stopped reading and slowly 
straightened up. She looked over 
at Dean, still busily fussing with 
that map. She tried to visualize 
him bored with life, going out on 
the town for excitement. The pic- 
ture just wouldn't come into focus. 
All she could see was her husband 
happily puttering around with some 
prints in a blacked-out kitchen — 
and, yes, Janie, herself, handing him 
the Hypo. She laughed shakily. 

Dean looked over at her. "It 
does seem kind of silly, stuffing the 
maps under here," he conceded. 
"But it won't be for long, honey. 
We have a lot of cozy evenings com- 
ing up; we'll get around to framing 
them soon. All right?" He smiled 

All at once Janie felt the panic 
in her being washed away by a 
warm, enveloping wave of tolerance 
and tenderness. She walked quickly 
across the room to Dean and 
dropped down beside him. "Yes, 
darling," she said happily, as his 
arms opened to receive her, "every- 
thing's all right." 

cJhe Jxtngbtrd 

Ethel Jacobson 

His court is the orchard on the hill, 

His throne is a peach-tree bough; 
A ruby winks from the sable crown 

That graces his royal brow. 
In robes of velvet, ermine-trimmed, 

He watches with lively eye 
Over his feathered colony, 

Watches the wide blue sky 
That no marauding hawk or crow 

May swoop with threatening wing 
While a small bird sits on a peach-tree bough, 

A guardian and a king! 

Willard Luce 


Alternate 89 

Willard Luce 

RUNNING between Flagstaff 
and Prescott, Arizona, Alter- 
nate 89 presents interesting 
scenery, including colorful Oak 
Creek Canyon, three important In- 
dian ruins — Montezuma Well, 
Montezuma Castle, and Tuzigoot— 
the mining town of Jerome, and 
Granite Dells. 

Alternate 89 has certain disad- 
vantages, as much of it is through 
low country, which is blistering hot 
in summer; and a lot of it is moun- 
tainous, with steep grades and sharp 
Page 262 

curves, making it a slow road. 

Flagstaff is in high, big-timber 
country, and the first thirteen and 
a half miles of alternate 89 wind 
through huge growths of Ponderosa, 
Douglas fir, and quaking aspen. 
Then the road comes to Lookout 
Point, 2000 feet above Oak Creek. 
On both sides, the walls of Oak 
Creek Canyon are timber covered 
with the white and red of the Co- 
conino sandstone showing through 
the deep green of the timber. Far 
below, Oak Creek and the highway 



become lost beneath the dense cov- 
ering of pine, sycamore, and aspen. 

Sedona, located at the mouth of 
Oak Creek Canyon, is a tourist and 
movie production center. Here 
the sandstone formations are more 
individualistic, more easily photo- 
graphed and more spectacular. 

Seventeen miles from Sedona a 
paved road leaves Alternate 89, tak- 
ing you to the two sections of 
Montezuma Castle National Monu- 

Montezuma Well looks like a 
miniature volcanic crater with a 
small lake inside. Around the ledge 
between the top of the crater and 
the water, are several cliff dwellings. 

Montezuma Well is actually a 
spring which pours out 1,000 gal- 
lons of water every minute. Today, 
even as 800 years ago, the water is 
used for irrigation. By the museum, 
ancient irrigation ditches are coated 
with lime. 

Montezuma Castle is well pre- 
served and beautifully located high 
up on the cream and buff-colored 
limestone ledge facing Beaver 

Back on Alternate 89, your next 
stop will be at Tuzigoot, a pueblo- 
like fort of no rooms. Tuzigoot 
faces the Verde River from a hill 
a few miles south of Clarkdale. 

Six miles and 1100 feet up Min- 

Willard Luce 




Willard Luce 


Prescott was the first territorial capital of Arizona. The Governor's House was 
built in 1864. To the right is a corner of the Sharlot Hall Museum. In the foreground 
are Indian and pioneer grindstones and millstones. 

gus Mountain from Clarkdale is Je- 
rome, now advertised as Arizona's 
newest ghost town. A quarter of 
a century ago it boasted a popula- 
tion of 15,000; today there are only 
a few hundred people left. Since 
1925 Jerome has been slipping down 
Mingus Mountain at the rate of 
about four and a half inches per 
year. Huge cracks have appeared in 
the earth, and small buildings have 
been condemned and torn down. 

From Jerome, Alternate 89 climbs 
on up through the different zones 
of plant life, until it finally reaches 
big timber again, coming to an ele- 
vation of 7,029. From here the 

highway drops once more. It cross- 
es Chino Valley and rejoins U. S. 
89 at Granite Dells. 

The Dells is a jumble of granite 
boulders and mounds, scrambled up 
in a haphazard manner to form a 
gigantic rock garden. Huge shade 
trees line Granite Creek and the 
man-made pools which are used for 
boating, fishing, and swimming. Be- 
neath the trees are picnicking 

You are now back on U. S. 89. 
Whichever way you are going, it is 
interesting to drive the six miles 
southward to Prescott, first terri- 
torial capital of Arizona. 


Here at Pioneer Square is the old 
Governor's House, a long structure 
built in 1864, now a museum hous- 
ing a collection of household uten- 
sils, firearms, and furniture. Back 
of the Governor's House is the Shar- 
lot Hall Museum, which houses a 
library of pioneer printed material. 


Two log cabins stand on Pioneer 
Square, one a replica of a pioneer 
home, the other, a reproduction of 
the first cabin in Prescott. 

Well, there it is, Alternate 89, 
an interest filled ninety-two miles- 
plus a little extra for side trips. 

uiapptness /low 

Wilma Boyle Bunker 

TOO many of us are guilty of postponing our happiness until the future. Too many 
of us say, 'Tomorrow I will do some of the things I would like to do today." 

If we are ever to enjoy life, now is the time, not tomorrow, not next year, nor in 
some future life .... Today should be our most wonderful day. 

We can find time to read; we can study music; we can take the children on a pic- 
nic or try out a new recipe; we can try to learn to mold a clay ballerina or write a son- 
net. Are we so practical that we forget to dream? Are we so absorbed in making a 
living or running a home or saving a dollar that we cease to invest in our dreams? 

It is important that we plan for the days to come, that we prepare as best we can 
for the future, but if we wait to enjoy life until we think everything is in order, we 
may find it is too late. 

Time has struck off yesterday; tomorrow as yet does not exist; we are sure only 
of today, so let us find our happiness now, this day, this hour. 

Sacred (ground 

Ida Isaacson 

Sacred, gull-laden land, 
With breath of mint and grass. 
What shall I leave thee, 
When I pass? 

My footfall is so light, 
Will no trace or print be found? 
Tell those who follow after 
That I loved this sacred ground. 

Vernessa M. Nagle 


cJhe J/Lspen L^rove 

Vernessa Miller Nagle 

\ N aspen grove in spring symbolizes the eternal pattern of rebirth. As bare, angular 
limbs show green under dark bark, the prophecy of life renewed is manifest. 

Dignity in adaptation is signified in an aspen grove in summer. Here is yielding, 
yet purposeful adjustment, a reaching for the heights. Pliant leaves catching the breeze, 
never still on the quietest of summer days, symbolize life's constant unrest, as they be- 
come attuned with a throbbing world. 

Life's fruition is seen in the blending of riotous coloring of an aspen grove 
in fall. Flaming beauty represents achievement crowned in glory. Lavish with their 
gifts, aspen trees of burnished hues toss riotous grandeur in a gesture of accomplish- 

Stripped of rampant beauty, there remains dignity of age in a winter aspen grove. 
Beauty is found in silver filigree. Here is resignation without compromise. Unbowed, with 
roots secure, life's benediction comes in the peace and quiet of winter's sunset hour. 

Page 266 

There Is Still Time 

Chapter 3 
Margery S. Stewart 

Synopsis: Elizabeth Anderson is dis- 
turbed by a strange dream in which she 
sees herself and her friends walking on 
crutches. She tells the dream to Brent, 
her husband, and explains to him that 
something is lacking in their family — a 
spiritual oneness. Brent, however, is so 
interested in making money that he does 
not wish to understand Elizabeth's plea. 
Brent receives a letter from his brother 
David requesting that Brent take their 
mother into his home. Elizabeth sur- 
prises her husband and children by insist- 
ing that Grandmother Anderson is wel- 
come to come and live with them, but 
after the Grandmother arrives, Elizabeth 
realizes that living with her will not be 

GRANDMA Anderson was not 
to be awed by the size of the 
house, nor the swimming 

''Seems to me some people could 
make better use of their money," 
she sniffed. 

She met Matilda head up, flags 
flying. Elizabeth shuddered at the 
covert measuring glance that passed 
between the two. Grandma An- 
derson sniffed the air. "Apple pie 
as I live and breathe." She took a 
deeper breath, and triumph lighted 
her face. "Too much cinnamon." 

Elizabeth flung herself into the 
breach. "Just the way I like apple 

"There's them as like apple pie 
spicy, and there's them as likes ap- 
ple pie baby like," said Matilda 
gently. "Next time I'll bake one 
special, just for you." 

Elizabeth shot her a glance of 

gratitude and turned Grandma An- 
derson to the stairs. In the room 
that was to be hers, Grandma An- 
derson was abruptly silent. She 
touched the satin headboard of the 
bed with gentle hands, "Pretty, 
isn't it?" She sat down in the little 
padded rocking chair and closed her 

"You have your own private bal- 
cony," Elizabeth said. She flung 
open the French doors. "You can 
watch it get morning from your 

Grandma Anderson's eyes flew 
open. "Spend the morning in bed! 
Not I, let me tell you. I've spent 
my whole life getting up at five, and 
I don't expect to change for any- 

"Brent likes to sleep until seven," 
Elizabeth interpolated gently. 

"Picked up that lazy habit since 
his marriage. Believe me, when he 
was home with me, he was up at 
five just like the rest of us. I re- 
member how he hated it . . . one 
time . . . ." 

"Seven," repeated Elizabeth firm- 
ly. "Now, this is your castle. No 
one can come in at all, except with 
your permission." 

"... So I told him then, 'Son,' 
I said, 'as long as you are under my 
roof . . . / " She stopped short, 
digested her own words, gave Eliza- 
beth a sudden, rueful, understand- 
ing smile. "Seven, it is." 

Elizabeth smiled back. "Would 
you like to rest until lunch time, 

Page 267 



and then we'll get after those flow- 

"Mind you don't cut them now. 
Seems to me I remember once you 
cut flowers and didn't put them 
right into water . . . ." 

"I'll wait," said Elizabeth meek- 
ly, and closed the door. She thought 
of the evening ahead and apprehen- 
sion gripped her. 

HTHE dinner had been arranged for 
twelve people. Grandma An- 
derson's coming made it thirteen. 
Brent fussed and worried about this 
until Elizabeth solved the situation 
by having Elaine join them. Elaine 
was sulky about it, dreading the 
boredom of older people. 

Grandma Anderson came down 
just as the guests were arriving. She 
looked small and frail and quaint in 
the voile dress with its crocheted 
collar and the big broach at her 
throat. She beamed on each new 
guest and shook hands heartily. 

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Ames." 
She peered up into his flushed, 
heavy face. "You certainly remind 
me of a man back home . . . Olaf 
Swenson, the butcher . . . ." 

"Mother!" Brent's voice was 
sharp. He glared at Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth pretended not to no- 
tice. She hurried the women away 
to dispose of their wraps. When 
she returned, Grandma Anderson 
was happily regaling the still purple 
Mr. Ames with the hardships of 
life in a small town in the early 
nineteen hundreds. Mr. Ames fid- 
geted. Brent looked ill. Elizabeth 
heard her own voice getting edgy 
as she tried to smooth over one ill- 
timed remark after another of 
Brent's mother. 

The evening finally ended. Up- 
stairs in their bedroom, Brent jerked 
off his tie savagely. "That settles it. 
That definitely settles it. A rest 
home. I'll go find one tomorrow." 

"No." Elizabeth leaned her el- 
bows on her dressing table, rested 
her face in her palms. "You didn't 
see her eyes this morning when she 
saw her room, like a child's on 
Christmas. We can't do it." She 
brushed her hair furiously. "I shared 
her opinion of Mr. Ames." She 
turned to Brent. "I like your moth- 
er, Brent. She's like a nice cold 
wind from Beaver blowing away a 
lot of dust." 

Brent threw down his shirt. "She 
isn't your mother. She's mine." 

"She's ours. She is my responsi- 
bility just as much as she is yours. 
Oh, Brent, it's just because we 
haven't learned how to handle the 
situation. If we're wise we'll settle 
it without sending her away. That's 

"We can't ask anyone here." 

"I'll think of some way, one or 
two nights a week, she might prefer 
a movie with the twins or Elaine." 

"She'll want to go with us every- 

"I'll take her with me and the 

"Matilda will quit." 

"Let her." 

Elizabeth looked at Brent. He 
was in the wrong and he knew it, 
and he was trying furiously to push 
her into a corner. Helplessness 
swept her. Their lives seemed to 
get more tangled and complicated 
every day. 

"What's changing you?" Brent 
demanded. "You never used to be 
like this." 



She went to the window, looked 
out into the night. "Remember 
the fun we had when we were 
youngsters, going to Church all the 
time. You used to be a whiz in 
basketball. Remember?" 

Brent came to stand beside her. 
"Donna told me about the Bible 
reading and the prayers. I think 
that's fine, Eliza. A very good idea." 

She rubbed her face against his 
shoulder. "It's making such a dif- 
ference. There's more unity than 
we used to have. Of course, some 
mornings they seem bored to tears, 
but again on another day they want 
to talk about things for hours." She 
smiled at him. "Are you ready to 
join us, Brent? It would make us 
very happy, me especially." 

Brent turned away. "I had 
Church rammed down my throat 
when I was a kid." 

"We won't ram anything into 
you, Brent." 

He shrugged restlessly. "I've got 
too much on my mind. It's all 
right for you and the kids. Help 
yourselves. But count me out." He 
smiled warmly. "Don't get me 
wrong. I believe in things. Let's 
leave it at that." 

Against her own better judgment, 
Elizabeth pressed him. "It's so late, 
Brent. We've wasted so much time. 
It takes time, believe me, to grow 
into the kind of person he would 
have us be." 

He flung back the covers and 
slipped into bed. "I'm worn out. 
We'll continue this discussion next 
Michaelmas, how about it?" He 
turned on his stomach. "I'll look 
for a rest home in the morning." 

Elizabeth turned back to the win- 
dow, snapping off the lamp on her 

way. The gentle darkness fell 
around her, hiding her face, her 
closed eyes, and the tense moving 
of her lips. Please, let there be 
some way to keep Grandma An- 
derson. She needs more than room, 
more than food, she needs her own 
around her, to be a part of living. 

ELIZABETH was awakened at 
two in the morning by the 
sound of moaning from Grandma 
Anderson's room. She rose and ran 
across the hall. 

"It's my chest," Grandma And- 
erson panted. "Hurts something 
awful . . . something I ate . . . that 
apple pie . . . too spicy." 

"Shh." Elizabeth tried to stop 
the steady flow of words. She was 
terrified by the whiteness of Grand- 
ma Anderson's face and the blue- 
ness of her lips and eyelids. She 
hurried downstairs and called the 
doctor, brought up warm water and 
soda, woke Brent. 

The doctor came after an inter- 
minable wait. Elizabeth watched 
tensely as he listened, probed, lis- 
tened again, his face calm, but his 
movements hurried as he pressed a 
needle into Grandma Anderson's 

After a long time he snapped his 
bag shut, picked it up and motioned 
Elizabeth and Brent out of the 
room. They followed him down- 

"She's a very old, little lady," he 
said, bluntly, "with a heart that 
should have failed her a long time 
ago. Keep her happy, keep her 
mind occupied." He looked at 
Elizabeth searchingly. "Right now 
she's going to need nursing, careful, 
cheerful nursing. Nurses are rather 



scarce, but perhaps I can find one 
for you." 

"I can do it," Elizabeth said firm- 
ly. 'The children will help me. I'll 
do the best job I can." 

After Brent had seen the doctor 
to the door he came back to stand 
before Elizabeth. "Call me any 
name you like," he said heavily, "I'D 
admit I'd fit into any of them." 

'Tou just didn't understand, 
Brent. You just didn't think." 

He came to her, buried his face 
in her hair. "Sometimes I feel that 
I'm a thousand miles from my base. 
Help me find my way back." 

"You'll find it, Brent. We all 
will, if we try hard enough." 

He tightened his grip on her. "It's 
going to be rough on you. She'll 
make an exacting invalid." 

"So it's rough," Elizabeth smiled 
ruefully. "I'm beginning to believe 
that a smooth passage isn't always 
the best . . . many storms make a 
good sailor." 

"You made that up," he accused 

She laughed, "Perhaps I'm going 
to grow old like other ladies I've 
seen and bring out my conclusions 
like mints out of a pocketbook." 

"Pop them into people's minds?" 
He held her closer. "You're funny 
and sweet, and I don't know which 
is the mostest, as Donna would say." 

She rested against him for a mo- 
ment, glad for his stocky strength. 
"I'd better run up and start work- 
ing at my job." 

Grandma Anderson opened heavy 
eyes, the drugs were taking effect. 
"I knew it. The minute I laid eyes 
on this little room I knew I'd never 
get to stay. First I thought you'd 

send me away, like David's wife . . . 
but I never figured on this." 

Elizabeth sat in the little rocker. 
"You're going to have this little 
room until you can't stand the sight 
of it. It's your room, as long as you 
want it. You're part of our family 
like Donna is part, or Johnny, or 

"Part of your family?" Grandma 
Anderson closed her eyes on a deep 
breath. "I haven't felt part of a fam- 
ily since my husband Jim died." Her 
mouth twisted. "Not that some 
of it isn't my fault. I have the fin- 
est family . . . ." 

TT was a long, bitter battle. There 
were nights when Elizabeth, sit- 
ting in the rocker in the small hours 
of the night, felt death, like fog 
creep icily through the room. 

Grandma Anderson was im- 
patient and querulous. "I just don't 
see why the doctor can't do some- 
thing for me. No doctor like Doc- 
tor Davidson in Beaver. Is it time 
for my medicine? I declare, if I 
don't remind you every minute, 
you'll up and forget." 

"It won't be time for your medi- 
cine for another hour, try to sleep." 

"In this bed! It's too soft one 
minute . . . too hard the next, not 
enough room. Slept all my life in 
a double bed . . . ." On and on 
it went. 

Elaine was the one who became 
almost a right hand to Elizabeth. 
Elaine, who, tender and gentle, 
helped to bathe the wasted, frail 
body, who brought pretty trays to 
tempt Grandma Anderson's appe- 
tite, who came in at odd hours of 
the night to insist that Elizabeth 
get sleep. 



Elizabeth dared not unburden 
the strain and the weariness on 
Brent. He had lost the bid for the 
tract he had set his heart on build- 
ing. He was morose, easily infuri- 
ated. She endured alone. 

The one bright moment in the 
day was the hour after breakfast 
when Brent had gone and the chil- 
dren, ready for school, knelt with 
her in prayer. There was intensity 
in their petitions. They had all 
fallen deeply in love with Grandma 
Anderson. Sometimes Elizabeth 
read a psalm that fell like balm on 
all their hearts. Sometimes she read 
from Proverbs, and they eyed each 
other uneasily as the piercing truths 
touched a tender spot. 

They began to go to Sunday 
School. Elizabeth found herself 
looking forward to Sunday morn- 
ings, to the joy that would sweep 
over her when she saw her children 
in their places, to the nostalgia 
when she heard her children sing- 

ing the songs she had loved as a 
child. Sacrament services began to 
be a part of their lives. The chil- 
dren made friends easily. Elaine 
was soon the center of admiring 
boys and girls, but Elizabeth felt 
herself utterly alone. She missed 
Brent so much on these Sunday 
evenings that she felt he might well 
be in Singapore or Egypt, for the 
gulf between them and the pain 
of it. 

But he would have none of it. "I 
don't have the time, Elizabeth. I'm 
having rough going with that bid 
I lost and a few other things." 

"But we have enough." 

'There's never enough. There's 
always a quota to exceed or keep 
even with, if a man wants to get 

She fled from his pride to the 
childish murmurings of Donna or 
to the twins' world of Indians, cow- 
boys, and ships from outer space. 
(To be continued) 


Eva WiiJes Wangsgaard 

For centuries, the spindrift and the sand 
Possessed the beach, worn bare beneath the sky, 
Parched by incessant sun, a desert land 
Alone with breakers and the curlew's cry. 

Then, someone, April-fingered, found a moss 
That clung to creeping sand and held it still 
Inured to drought and restless waves that toss 
Their spume in anger at the weather's will. 

Now beauty lies in robes that dawn might wear; 
Pink-petaled loveliness erased the dun. 
First green and then a million blooms were there 
And iridescent wings reflecting sun. 


Margaret 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 Instructions, page 123. 


Photograph submitted by Rita H. Stone 


Rita H. Stone, President, Samoan Mission Relief Society, stands beside one of the 
booths of this successful bazaar. 

Sister Stone reports: "The women had made hot pads, children's clothing, and 
pillows; they had block-printed native designs on materials to be used for dresses and 
shirts, and had also made luncheon cloths and napkins and various other articles. The 
booth in the picture was made from a few sticks and poles decorated with leaves from 
the coconut trees. It was very unique and picturesque. I am very happy with the 
progress made in our Relief Societies. Our Singing Mothers groups are growing also." 

Page 272 



Photograph submitted by Ruth Stapley 


Rowena Root, the chorister, stands in front at the right (in dark dress); Joanna 
Reismann, the organist, stands near the organ, at the left; just above, and at Sister 
Reismann's left, is Permella Hoggard, First Counselor; at Sister Hoggard's left is Ruth 
Stapley, President, Phoenix Stake Relief Society. 

Sixty-five Singing Mothers sang in this chorus for two sessions of the stake con- 

Photograph submitted by Amanda Hancock 


November 20, 1955 

Grace B. Wilson, chorister, stands at the right in the second row; at Sister Wil- 
son's right is Beth Christensen, stake organist. Pianist for the occasion, Joan Elliot, 
stands at the left on the second row. 

Helen M. Stock, President, Young Stake Relief Society, reports that although the 
members of this chorus live in widely scattered localities, and their practicing was limited 
to one session, their singing was most beautiful. 



Photograph submitted by Verma B. James 


November 16, 1955 

Stake officers and teachers seated on the floor, left to right: fourth from the left 
(in dark jumper and white blouse), Betty Rice, organist; Carol Gleove, social science 
class leader; Carma Merrill, Second Counselor; Maggie Barra, work meeting leader; 
Hazel Nelson, theology class leader; Verma James, Secretary; Lola Green, President; 
Reba Bryce, First Counselor. 

Second row, seated, third from the left: Cora Mack, Magazine representative. 

These visiting teachers represent seven wards. To honor them, an inspirational 
program and testimonial was held, and the oldest visiting teacher was recognized and 
presented with a gift. 

Photograph submitted by Orena E. Hoover 


Left to right: Mildred M. Egan, present President; former presidents: Reva Thom- 
as; Eva Weitzeil; Vera Hunter; Josephine Clark; Ada Dalebout. 

"The Park Ward celebrated its tenth anniversary in December 1955, and at this 
time the Relief Society held a delightful party honoring the past presidents. Each presi- 
dent and counselor related an interesting or amusing incident which happened during 
the time she was in office. 



"Park Ward was the first ward in the stake to contribute its share to the building 
fund for the new Relief Society Building .... They obtained their funds by serving 
banquets to various organizations, among them, the National Governors Convention in 
1947 at Aspen Grove, where governors from all the states enjoyed a lovely dinner in the 
open air, near majestic Mount Timpanogos. They expressed their appreciation for a 
delicious meal so efficiently served to nearly three hundred people in just twentv 
minutes, enabling them to keep their schedule on their tour. It was a memorable 
occasion for all. The Relief Society continued their dinner projects and furnished the 
Relief Society room and kitchen of the beautiful new chapel which they are now en- 

Orena E. Hoover is president of Utah Stake Relief Society. 

Photograph submitted by Aliene N. Bloxham 

SOCIETY ORGANIZED, January 29, 1956 

Front row, seated, left to right: Thelma Welch, Secretary; Marva Elquist, Second 
Counselor; Louise Sellers, President; Joan Swackhammer, First Counselor. 

Second row, seated, left to right: Marvelle Edgar; Lillian Potter; Dorothy Sargent; 
Zelma Keel. 

Back row, standing, left to right: Alice Hyde; Leola Edgar; Mary Littledyke, Sec- 
ond Counselor, Humboldt Stake Relief Society; Alta Sorensen, First Counselor, Hum- 
boldt Stake Relief Society; Ahene N. Bloxham, President, Humboldt Stake Relief So- 
ciety; Elder Emerson H. Potter, President, Battle Mountain Branch. 

Sister Bloxham reports satisfaction and happiness in the organization of this 
branch Relief Society: "I am happy to report the newly organized Relief Society of 
the Battle Mountain Branch. We were fortunate in having all our stake presidency 
there. The stake Relief Society executives were there also, except for the secretary. The 
spirit of th Lord was surely with us, and we felt the power of the Priesthood. There 
are between thirty and thirty-five women living in the area and we are in hopes of hav- 
ing them as members of our Relief Society." 



Photograph submitted by Betty Jo C. Reiser 



The cast, left to right: Bartley — Dan Monson; Nora — Marion Huston; Maurya — 
lone Tippetts; Cathleen — Beverly Berntsen. 

President Betty Jo C. Reiser, reports: "John Millington Synge's 'Riders to the Sea,' 
a part of the December literature lesson, rated special treatment in the new Rose Park 
Stake, with a full production under the direction of Verda Mae Christensen, stake litera- 
ture class leader. It rated special praises, too, from the two hundred Relief Society 
women from the five Rose Park wards attending. Sister Christensen had her first ex- 
perience in directing a play cast primarily of adult women — loyal Relief Society women 
— and reports it was a most wonderful group. Sister lone Tippetts, who played Maurya, 
has seven children under thirteen years of age. Sister Marion Huston, who played Nora, 
has six children in the same age group. Other members of the cast each has three chil- 
dren. And it was the busy pre-Christmas season. Yet the play left nothing to be de- 
sired in the way of finesse, dramatic strength, and theatrical polish. The Lord has 
truly blessed the sisters in Rose Park Stake to be able to accomplish such things while 
they are rearing their families, at a time when they feel they most need the blessings of 
Relief Society work. Sister Christensen was assisted by the ward literature class leaders: 
Doris Shutt, Dorothy Evans, Mildred Keyes, and Margaret England." 



Maude Rubin 

With Chloe, the buckskin mare, progress was slow .... 

She hated the word, "Giddapf— Much preferred "Whoa!" 

Sedately she trotted or ambled or paced — 

Never excited; no, she never raced! 

A yen for green pastures would often assail her. 

But her daughter, a blonde, gets there in a trailer! 

I lew Vistas 

Jennie Brown Rawlins 

"Here, you ride him, Auntie," invited 
my young niece, who was proudly show- 
ing off her new pony. 

"No, no, dear," I remonstrated quick- 
ly. "Auntie doesn't care about riding 
horses any more." 

Then, remembering the days when rid- 
ing a pony over the smooth, rolling hills 
had been the epitome of joy to me, I ex- 
perienced a feeling of nostalgic sadness. I 
recalled that there were several other hob- 
bies and pastimes that used to fill me with 
deep-souled delight that I no longer en- 
joyed. There were dishes that used to 
tickle my palate that somehow seemed 
now to have lost their savor. I kept 
thinking of a line from a poem: "My 
straw no longer bends in colored water." 
It's true, I said to myself, as we grow old- 
er we no longer greet life with such youth- 
ful exuberance. Our senses are not as 
perceptive to the keen enjoyment of 

There followed a series of events that 
proved how wrong I was. During the 
summer months I was invited to join a 
group that was planning to attend a course 
at the college. With slight feelings of 
guilt about robbing my family (the young- 
est of whom was twelve) of so much of 
my time, I hesitated, until reminded that 
it would be a wonderful opportunity for 
them to learn to accept responsibility. 

The instructor had a dynamic person- 
ality, and was full of fresh, new ideas, and, 
without being asked, answered many of 
the questions that I had been pondering 
in my heart. It was like a gift that you 
appreciate all the more because you have 
experienced a need for it. I do not re- 
member ever having enjoyed a course so 
much in my younger days. 

That winter we went on a trip and re- 
visited some of the places I had visited as 
a girl. This time it was not the zoo and 
amusement parks that intrigued me so 
much as the museums and art galleries — 

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Page 277 




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Write for information about 
the HISTORIC TRAIN that will 
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Another famous FESTIVAL 
TOUR. Sails for Europe from 
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via the Empress of Canada. 
For Complete Details, Write or 

Vida Fox Clawson 

966 East South Temple 
Salt Lake City, Utah 

places I had considered stodgy and dull 
in my youth. 

I began studying my Relief Society les- 
sons more carefully, taking renewed pleas- 
ure in them as I did so. I even did some 
extracurricular reading in the field of lit- 
erature. The characters in David Copper- 
Beld and Withering Heights became more 
humanly appealing when seen through the 
spectrum of experience, and poems that 
I had recited parrot-like in school sudden- 
ly blossomed with exciting shades of mean- 

A neighbor of mine is starting an heir- 
loom quilt — a thing she admits she would 
not have had the patience to undertake 
when she was twenty. Another neighbor 
gets great satisfaction out of gathering 
genealogical data — a project for which 
she says she has had little time or inclina- 
tion until recently. 

I must not fail to mention the soul- 
permeating joy that comes from service 
to others, and from becoming acquainted 
with the beautiful truths of the gospel — 
a joy that maturity but enhances. 

Yes, new vistas are continually opening 
up before us. How foolish we are if we 
keep our eyes glued only to the old. 



Catherine E. Berry 

The blue-gray twilight stretches now 

Across the hills of night, 

And windows of each little house 

Are blossoming with light. 

Tired husbands open waiting gates, 

And children straggle home, 

The homing instinct conquering 

The primal urge to roam. 

Beneath each small and sturdy roof 

Are gathering the clan, 

The need for food and light and warmth, 

Instinctive in each man, 

Has pushed the night beyond the door, 

Beyond each window pane, 

And drawn the circle in and made 

It safe, complete, again. 

cfo the [Relief Society 
Visiting cJeachers 

Hazel Jones Owen 

Perhaps you think the task is small 
Which you've been called to do, 
But what's important is the fact 
So much depends on you. 

A tiny little mustard seed 
Has power truly great; 
It takes a little thing like love 
To banish fear and hate. 

It takes perfected detail 
To make a masterpiece in art; 
Small things in a mighty building 
Must play a major part. 

The little tasks, the kindly deeds, 
The world may not applaud .... 
But it's the scope of all the little things 
That shows the greatness of our God! 

c/t Lise for (cy/d Screens 

Elizabeth Williamson 

PvON'T throw away old window screens 
*-* — they make an effective protection 
for new plants against sun, wind, and 


You will receive full infor- 
mation about new organ 
music and materials as it 
is issued, and also sugges- 
tions of outstanding inter- 
est, by filling in the coupon 
below and mailing it to 


74 So. Main Salt Lake City, Utah 



Type of Organ 

Where Installed 

IV s awaiting 
You . . . 

X .fcSa there is still a tremendous amount 
of outstanding instruction and use await- 
ing you in this and other copies of the 
Relief Society Magazine. Your editions 
may be handsomely bound at the West's 
finest bindery and printing plant for $2.50 
cloth bound and $3.50 leather bound per 
volume plus postage for mail orders. All 
mail orders must be paid in advance. 
Follow these postage rates if you send 
your order by mail: 

Distance from 

Salt Lake City, Utah Rate 

Up to 150 miles 35 

150 to 300 miles 39 

300 to 600 miles 45 

600 to 1000 miles 54 

1000 to 1400 miles 64 

1400 to 1800 miles 76 

Over 1800 miles 87 

Leave them at our conveniently locat- 
ed uptown office. 

Deseret News Press 

Phone EMpire 4-2581 ^5^ 

31 Richards St. Salt Lake City 1, Utah ^Jff^jl 

Page 279 

C/rom I Lear and cfar 

The Magazine is always a great pleasure 
to me, from its beautiful and artistic 
cover design to the very last page, with 
its delightful messages "From Near and 
Far." The inspiring address by President 
J. Reuben Clark Jr. in the December 
issue brought joy and peace to my soul 
and added desire in my heart to live the 
teachings of our glorious gospel. That 
discussion of "Children in the Scrip- 
tures" is of such value and interest and 
gives us the Lord's instructions regard- 
ing children. These universal laws that 
are as applicable now as when they were 
first written are given with such an inter- 
esting insight into our lives today. I was 
particularly impressed with the words of 
the great prophet Alma when he said: 
". . . little children do have words given 
to them many times, which confound 
the wise and the learned." It is my 
prayer that every subscriber to the Maga- 
zine will read this inspirational message 
and profit from its teachings. The frontis- 
piece picture "New England Winter" and 
the winter scene "Brook in Winter" are 
marvelous examples of photographic art. 
I am thrilled with their loveliness. 

— Mrs. Emma M. Gardner 

Sacramento, California 

I would like to take this opportunity 
to thank you for The Relief Society Maga- 
zine and its wonderful articles. I am the 
branch president in the West Hartlepool 
Branch. Several months ago I found it 
necessary to take the position of teacher 
in Relief Society, and, without this won- 
derful Magazine to help me, I am sure 
I would have been lost. My mother is 
president of the Richards Ward Relief So- 
ciety in Sugar House Stake, and she has 
arranged to have The Relief Society Mag- 
azine sent to me. I have been reading it 
every month for sixteen months, and I 
have really enjoyed it. The sisters of 
the British Mission will agree with me 
when I say that The Relief Society Mag- 
azine is the best Magazine of its kind in 
the whole world. 

— Elder Marvin Lee Howard 

West Hartlepool Branch 
British Mission 

I enjoy reading the Magazine very 
much. At present I am finding very fine 
reading in the January number. How 
lovely and very much worthwhile are the 
prize-winning poems and the story! I 
recall, in reading them, the thrill our 
family received when we saw mother's 
picture and poem "Barren Woman's Cry" 
in the Magazine (January 1952) and 
learned she had placed third. She had 
kept the news from us, and we were com- 
pletely surprised. I am happy to see 
poems by Agnes Just Reid, also. She lives 
near here and is a very nice person. I 
teach one of her grandchildren. 

— Joyce Atkinson 
Firth, Idaho 

I want to thank you kindly for publish- 
ing the article which I sent you "Reba 
Turner — Lady of Charity" (January 
1956). Sister Turner is happy about it, 
and she has received many telephone calls 
and letters from sisters in other wards 
whom she doesn't know — which is very 
wonderful, and she is most deserving of 
the honor. The ward Relief Society at 
Loa has framed the article and placed it 
on the wall in the lovely Relief Society 
room in the stake tabernacle. Everyone 
is happy for Sister Turner. I love the 
Relief Society work and enjoy the Maga- 
zine each month. 

-Nell Ekker 
Loa, Utah 

Please renew my Relief Society Mag- 
azine. I surely love to read it. I am 
almost blind, but I take my time and 
take great pleasure in looking at the love- 
ly faces. I love my Church. I am eighty 
years old and crippled, but my sisters 
come and take me to Church — it is a 
lovely home of the Lord. Happy New 
Year to all the sisters in Relief Society. 
I go whenever I am able, and hope some 
day I may meet you all. 

— Ollie D. Young 
Chico, California 

Page 280 


Compiled by DR. LLEWELYN R. McKAY 

This new book on the personality of President David O. 
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gives glimpses of his family life and his home in Hunts- 
ville ; it expresses his love for others, especially for chil- 
dren and animals. There are selections from talks and 
writings by this great man, several of the poems he has 
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Stimulating material that 
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as information from other 
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a sound education in the his- 
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These "cherished experiences" are taken 
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Salt Lake City, Utah 


Enclosed you will find ( ) check ( ) money order ( ) charge 

to my account the following amount $ for 

the encircled (numbered) books: 




Zone State. 

Residents of Utah include 2% sales tax. 

There'll be some changes made . . . . 

There'll be more than just diaper changes when this 
youngster comes home. A new addition to the family 
always means new responsibilities, new financial obliga- 
tions. A new baby, an increase in your income, the pur- 
chase of a new home — these and many other changes 
signal the time to take a fresh look at your life insur- 
ance coverage. How long since you took a critical look 
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vice, without obligation, consult your friendly Beneficial 
Life Insurance counselor. 

Your Beneficial 

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competent counsel, call 
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[David O. McKay, Pres. 

Salt Lake City, Utah 

"■"'s*;*!'!**" 1 '" 

cJke cJhtngs ta Ljou o/ See 

Dorothy J. Roberts 

A silvered link to the past, 

You hold 

In quiet testament 

The essence, gathered within your life, 

Of its crystal, of its gold, 

Its long, sweet labor, its frugal joys, 

Its hand-sewn treasures, 

Its country grace, 

Its warmth that mellowed the fields and heart, 

And lit your face. 

These are the things in you I see: 

The past, distilled. 

Its goodness, its sweetness spilled 

Into the depths of me. 

The Cover: Casa Loma, Toronto, Canada 

Photograph submitted by Leah H. Lewis 

Frontispiece: Saxifrage Blossoms 

Photograph by Ward Linton 

Cover Design by Evan Jensen 

CJroni I i 

ear an 

d CJar 

I low grateful I feel as I take a moment 
off to write you this letter. It is just a 
few heartfelt thanks for the spiritual up- 
lift which has come to me from the 
Magazine, which I have been acquainted 
with throughout my life. My mother has 
been a faithful member of Relief Society, 
and the marvelous Magazine has never 
failed to appear in our home .... I have 
always had a personal interest in it because 
of articles and stories written by my aunt 
(Fay Ollerton Tarlock). This past sum- 
mer I was called to the Rarotonga Dis- 
trict of the Samoan Mission. Later my 
companion and I were called to open the 
island of Atiu, of the Cook Islands group 
.... Out here we are six hundred miles 
from our president . . . and we often need 
to turn to what written material we have, 
and The Improvement Era and The Relief 
Society Magazine. Bereft of news from 
home and advice from the supervising 
elders, the spiritual gain from these maga- 
zines is of great importance. 

—Elder Carl A. Ollerton 
Rarotonga, Cook Islands 

I receive The Relief Society Magazine 
and enjoy it very much, as I enjoy Relief 
Society itself. Just finished reading the 
article on planning a Family Hour (March 
1956) by Helen Gardner, and was happy 
to obtain some new ideas. My thanks for 
the help and pleasure I get from the 

■ — Kathryn Tanner 

Woodland Hills, California 

I feel I would like to write to say how 
much I appreciate your wonderful little 
book. A very dear cousin of my moth- 
er's — Mrs. A. S. Keetch of Logan, Utah, 
makes it her Christmas gift, and she has 
sent it for a number of years. After my 
mother has read it, she passes it on to me 
and, although not members of your 
Church, we find a great deal of pleasure 
and joy in its many interesting articles. 

— R. Caldwell 




Page 282 

I do enjov The Relief Society Maga- 
zine. The stories are wonderful, and I 
am so glad for the lessons as they have 
helped verv much here in our small 
branch in the Central States Mission. We 
have one hundred per cent of our work- 
ers taking the Magazine and all of them 
think it is wonderful. It is a verv nice 
way to preach the gospel to those who 
know so little about The Church of Jesus 
Christ of Latter-dav Saints. 
-Mary }'. Hatch 

Hot Springs, Arkansas 

I think The Relief Society Magazine is 
the best magazine offered by the Church, 
and by the world, for that matter. 
— Evangeline Baddley 
McKinnon, Wyoming 

I have not seen my sister Walla W T agner 
since I was three years old, and then I 
noticed her picture with the Dublan 
Ward group, Juarez Stake, in the Maga- 
zine for February 1956, page 121, and 
wrote this poem as the thoughts came 
to me: 

There was such joy in my heart today; 

As I leafed through the Magazine, 

My eyes scanned the stories and went on 

To the articles, poetry, lessons .... 

O'er the pages I scanned on my way to 
the back, 

But I stopped — it was something fa- 
miliar — 

My birthplace was written so large and 
so black, 

I have not often seen it so written. 

My dear gospel sisters, all thirtv-one stood, 
As I read the names written below — 
There was in the picture one that's my 

own blood — 
I've not seen her in twenty-six years 

I hadn't so much as a picture yet seen, 
Of my dear sister so far away — 
I thank our old standby, the Magazine, 
For giving this privilege to me. 
— Lela Graves 

Anaheim, California 


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


Belle S. Spafford - 

Marianne C. Sharp - 

Velma N. Simonsen - 

Margaret C. Pickering - 

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

Editor - 
Associate Editor 
General Manager 

Evon W. Peterson 
Louise W. Madsen 
Aleine M. Young 
Josie B. Bay 
Christine H. Robinson 

- - - - President 

- - - - First Counselor 

Second Counselor 

- Secretary-Treasurer 

Alberta H. Christensen Edith P. Backman 
Mildred B. Eyring 

Helen W. Anderson 
Gladys S. Boyer 
Charlotte A. Larsen 


Winniefred S. 
Elna P. Haymond 
Annie M. Ellsworth 
Mary R. Young 

Marianne C. Sharp 

Vesta P. Crawlord 

Belle S. Spafford 

Vol. 43 

MAY 1956 


on tents 

No. 5 


Dedication of the Los Angeles Temple 285 

Rewards for Activity in the Church Thorpe B. Isaacson 286 

The Canadian Mission Preston R. Nibley 290 

Contest Announcements — 1956 292 

Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest 292 

Relief Society Short Story Contest 293 

Poetry Is for People Eva Willes Wangsgaard 294 

Cheerfulness Is Always Right Annie S. W. Gould 297 

So You Want to Write a Story! Frances C. Yost 298 

My Legacy Margaret S. Fife 340 

Repentance Kate Richards 341 

Silver Spoons Manila C. Cook 342 


Who Sings the Lullaby Rosa Lee Lloyd 302 

The Perfect Gift Mabel Law Atkinson 318 

There Is Still Time — Chapter 4 Margery S. Stewart 320 


From Near and Far 282 

Sixty Years Ago 310 

Woman's Sphere Ramona W. Cannon 311 

Editorial: The Gift for Mother's Day Marianne C. Sharp 312 

Notes to the Field: Program for the November Fast Sunday Evening Meeting 313 

A Centenary of Relief Society Out of Print 313 

Review Outline for May 1956 Literature Lesson 314 

New Serial "Heart's Bounty" to Begin in June 315 

Magazine Subscriptions for 1955 Marianne C. Sharp 326 

The Magazine Honor Roll for 1955 330 

Notes From the Field: Relief Society Activities Margaret C. Pickering 334 


Recipes From the Canadian Mission Leah H. Lewis 316 

Mary Ann Hyde Mortenson Makes Wedding Cakes of Intricate Design 317 

A Rug in Dutch Butter Mold Design Elizabeth Williamson 339 


The Things in You I See — Frontispiece Dorothy J. Roberts 281 

Gift of Spring Gene Romolo 289 

Song From the Rim of Silence Elsie McKinnon Strachan 301 

Love's Foliage Maude Rubin 309 

Hidden Valley Ethel Jacobson 309 

Never in Triteness Iris W. Schow 316 

For My Mother Christie Lund Coles 341 


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. 

Hal Rumel 

Page 284 


'^Dedication of the JLos uLngeles cJemple 

npIIE Los Angeles Temple, rising in beauty on a sloping hill adorned 
with olive trees, palms, flowers, and a reflecting pool, is the twelfth 
temple built during the dispensation of the fulness of times. Contrasting 
the conditions surrounding the building of the first temple— the Kirtland 
Temple— which was dedicated in March 1836, and that of this twelfth one, 
offer striking differences which reflect the history of the Church which the 
Lord foretold as "the rising up and the coming forth of my church out of 
the wilderness— clear as the moon, and fair as the sun, and terrible as an 
army with banners'' (D. & C. 5:14). The Los Angeles Temple, previous 
to its dedication, was visited by 662,401 persons. All were welcomed and 
preserved a reverential silence as they viewed this edifice erected to the 
Lord by his restored Church to bring salvation and exaltation to both the 
living and dead that the earth might not be utterly wasted at the Lord's 
second coming. 

President McKay personally offered the inspiring dedicatory prayer at 
each of the eight sessions of the dedication. Each service was an impressive 
and moving experience and a spiritual feast to those privileged to attend 
the different sessions, estimated to be a total of about 40,000 persons. 

The monetary contributions of the saints of Southern California ex- 
ceeded one million and six hundred thousand dollars. The general Church 
membership, however, through their tithes and offerings partook of the 
blessings and shared in the joy of accomplishment. 

Page 285 

Rewards for Activity in the Church 

Bishop Thorpe B. Isaacson 
Of the Presiding Bishopric 

IT has been well stated that the 
things of greatest value in life 
are those that multiply when 
divided. The rewards of greatest 
worth are the ones that endure and 
bring not only immediate satisfac- 
tion but eternal joys. 

Of material wealth, it is necessary 
to get and keep in order to have, 
but the accumulation of the riches 
of heaven comes about through un- 
selfish giving and serving. In sharing 
our thoughts with others they there- 
by become our own. Our testi- 
monies grow stronger as we express 
them in word or in action. Our 
feeling of appreciation grows 
through our expressions of apprecia- 

Jesus taught that service and 
obedience to the laws of truth are 
the keys to happiness and that hap- 
piness is the desire of all men. We 
should read frequently the inspired 
words of Nephi, "Adam fell that 
men might be; and men are, that 
they might have joy" (2 Nephi 

Happiness can be found only 
where it exists, and those who would 
have it must pay its price. Many 
seek blindly for eternal satisfactions 
along the byways of sin where they 
do not exist. Some expect the re- 
wards of heaven and life without 
the willingness to pay the inevitable 
price. Others are satisfied with 
cheap substitutes that furnish mo- 
mentary pleasure but have no last- 
ing values. To leave the blazoned 
trail of life in search of shortcuts 

Page 286 

that do not exist is to transgress the 
laws of God and cut ourselves off 
from the very rewards for which we 

'There is a law, irrevocably de- 
creed in heaven before the founda- 
tions of this world, upon which all 
blessings are predicated— 

'And when we obtain any bless- 
ing from God, it is by obedience to 
that law upon which it is predi- 
cated" (D. & C. 130:20-21). 

There are some in the world 
whose eyes are closed to the true 
values and purposes of life. Their 
whole time is dedicated to the quest 
for wealth, pleasure, or power. They 
think of the dollar and its pleasure 
potential as the end of life rather 
than to think of wealth as a means 
to the greater end of happiness 
through service to others. They seek 
wealth for wealth's sake rather than 
to think of its possession as a power 
potential for building the kingdom 
of God and for serving our fellow 

Activity in The Church of Jesus 
Christ of Latter-day Saints is serv- 
ice of the highest order. Its assured 
rewards are satisfaction and happi- 
ness here and exaltation in the king- 
dom of our Father. 

Activity in the Church, to be ef- 
fective, must be characterized by 
unselfish devotion. The Lord in 
revelation makes this very clear. 

And no one can assist in this work ex- 
cept he shall be humble and full of love, 
having faith, hope and charity, being tem- 
perate in all things, whatsoever shall be 
entrusted to his care (D. & C. 12:8). 



The chief concern of the earnest 
Church worker is for the welfare 
and happiness of others. Each as- 
signment filled is a source of satis- 
faction. Each new task is a joyous 
adventure. To him activity in the 
Church is, in a measure, its own re- 
ward. The immediate feelings of 
accomplishment from the service 
rendered are well worth the effort 
expended. The promised future re- 
wards are extra bonuses or surplus 

The law of compensation is at 
work in the world. We reap as we 
sow. Obedience to law invariably 
brings immediate or deferred bless- 
ings. Transgression of the laws just 
as surely results in suffering and sor- 

Salvation comes no cheaper to 
one than to another. We cannot 
hope for blessings equal to those 
earned by the pioneers with their 
many hardships and trials without 
diligence and obedience to funda- 
mental principles equal to theirs. 
Wc may not be called to die for the 
gospel, nor to leave our homes, our 
families, or our friends. We may 
never be required to go cold or 
hungry or to face the dangers of 
the plains as they chose to do. We 
must, however, be willing to pay 
the price and prove our willingness 
through service and sacrifice of a 
different nature, if we would have 
divine rewards equal to theirs. 

HPHE Church is the organization 
set up by the Lord through 
which he brings salvation to his chil- 
dren. Through the Church, oppor- 
tunities for service are offered to all 
who will accept. The reward for 
such service is salvation which 
comes in direct proportion to the 

quantity and quality of the service 

There are three distinct divisions 
of Church activity. Each division 
offers many opportunities for serv- 
ice, and ultimate salvation depends 
upon our active participation in 
each of them. We might classify 
these three fields of Church activity 
as that which we do for our own ad- 
vancement, that which we do for 
the spiritual and temporal welfare 
of our fellow men, and the service 
we render for those who are in the 
world of departed spirits. 

There are personal obligations 
that each individual has for his own 
welfare. He should seek truth 
through study and prayer. He should 
repent of weaknesses and transgres- 
sions. He should submit himself 
for baptism of water and of the 
spirit. He should listen and heed 
the promptings of the Holy Ghost. 
He should build a strong body by 
strict obedience to the laws of 
phvsical health that have been re- 
vealed from God. He should en- 
large his mental capacities through 
study. He should expand his abil- 
ity to enjoy the association of oth- 
ers. He should partake freely and 
frequently of that which gives 
growth to the spirit. There are 
fundamental obligations of obedi- 
ence that each individual must ad- 
here to if he would have the bless- 
ings of the gospel. Jesus, in direct- 
ing his disciples to preach the gos- 
pel to every creature, said: "He that 
believeth and is baptized shall be 
saved; but he that believeth not 
shall be damned" (Mark 16:16). 

Recently a Senior Member of the 
Aaronic Priesthood who had been 
long inactive in the Church ex- 



pressed to a group of friends the 
wonderful joy that had come into 
his life through again becoming ac- 
tive in the Church. Tears welled 
up in his eyes and his voice faltered 
as he told of his past life and the 
mistakes he had made. For years 
he had not kept the Word of Wis- 
dom. There had been no prayer 
nor religious interest in his home. 
There had been frequent marital 
misunderstandings. There had been 
lack of family loyalty. There had 
been no real objective in life. Each 
day was just another day, without 

"And now/' he said, "through 
study and secret prayer, I have re- 
ceived a conviction, an inner as- 
surance that God is our Father, that 
we live beyond the grave, and that 
I may have my wife and family for 
eternity. This testimony is worth 
more to me than the riches of the 
world. It has given me inner peace 
and comfort that I could get in no 
other way. My health is better be- 
cause I now live the Lord's laws of 
health. As a family we now love 
and enjoy each other as we never 
did before. We study, pray, and 
grow together. Life has taken on 
new meaning and purpose. I feel 
now that I am guided by an inner 
light. I pay my tithing and enjoy 
doing it. All this and more, too, 
because I washed the windows of 
my soul so that the light of faith 
could shine in. I repented of my 
sins so that I could have a remis- 
sion of them through my baptism of 
water and the Holy Ghost which 
were performed for me many years 

As he bore his testimony, there 
seemed to be a heavenly glow upon 

his face. "Just think," he said, "the 
promises and blessings that obedi- 
ence to the simple principles of the 
gospel have brought into my life. 
Imagine, Mary and the children, 
mine forever, and it all depends on 

The rewards of individual obedi- 
ence are many and wonderful. 

AS members of the Church we 
have an obligation to look to 
the physical and spiritual needs of 
others. Ours is a missionary Church. 
Those who have been on missions 
know of the rewards that come as 
the result of missionary service. 
Satisfaction is a sure reward that 
comes to those who teach the gos- 
pel to others and who alleviate the 
pains and lighten the burdens of 
their neighbors. 

Two women, one afternoon, stood 
in the bedroom of a very humble 
home. In the bed was a frail little 
mother. At her side was a sick 
child. Two other children played 
on the floor at the side of the bed. 
The women had just cleaned up 
the house and had served a nourish- 
ing meal to the little family. A 
box of groceries had been put on 
the table. The faces of the women 
reflected sympathy and love. Their 
eyes were filled with happy tears as 
they saw the look of appreciation 
on the face of the sick mother. This 
scene or similar ones arc enacted 
many times every day throughout 
the Church, and words cannot de- 
scribe the joy that comes from such 
service. Yea, they are rewarded who 
teach and serve their fellow men. 

The third obligation of Church 
membership is to do work for those 
who are dead. From the revela- 



tions of the Lord we can well under- 
stand the dependence that they 
who are in the spirit world place 
upon us who arc mortal beings. 
Many of them are anxious to be 
baptized and receive the Holy 
Ghost. This they cannot do for 
themselves. They are dependent 
upon those still living to do this 
work for them. Many of them, no 
doubt, love those who were their 
mates in mortal life but whose mar- 
riage contracts and vows came to 
an end when death parted them. 
In order to have them for eternity, 
their endowments and sealings must 
be performed vicariously for them. 
Their dependence upon mortals is 
an opportunity for great service. To 
be baptized, ordained, endowed, or 
sealed for one who is dead is a privi- 
lege and a blessing. To contem- 
plate the joy that such service in- 
sures for the ones in whose favor it 
is given is a source of satisfaction. 
These immediate rewards are worth- 
while in and of themselves, but 

when we meet the benefactors of 
our vicarious ministrations face to 
face and receive their personal ex- 
pressions of appreciation for the 
service we have rendered, we will 
indeed feel rewarded for our efforts. 
Yes, many and great are the bless- 
ings that come from activity in the 
Church. To be active is to have 
the abundant life. 

And all saints who remember to keep 
and do these sayings, walking in obedi- 
ence to the commandments, shall receive 
health in their navel and marrow to their 

And shall find wisdom and great treas- 
ures of knowledge, even hidden treasures; 

And shall run and not be weary, and 
shall walk and not faint. 

And I, the Lord, give unto them a 
promise, that the destroying angel shall 
pass by them, as the children of Israel, 
and not slay them (D. & C. 89:18-21). 

Remember well the promised re- 
wards for activity in the Church. 
Forget not the Lord's supreme 
award for faithfulness: ". . . all that 
my Father hath shall be given unto 
him" (D.&C. 84:38). 

\£ift of Spring 

Gene Romolo 

The prisoning, icy fastness of the winter 
Touched by the potent, magic wand of spring 
Has vanished. There is not left, of it, a splinter. 
Golden gossamer envelops everything. 

Through the great expanse of earth is flowering 
New life that wells with each recurring year, 
And sentient husbandmen, with zeal are sowing 
Ripe seeds from which rich harvests will appear. 

Spring brings the gift of faith for our receiving . 
The fault is ours if we go unbelieving. 

cJhe v^anadtan 1 1 itsst 


Pieston R. Nibley 

|7 ASTERN Canada is one of the earliest missionary fields of the Church. 
The first missionaries to cross the border from the United States were 
Joseph Young, Phineas Young, Eleazer Miller, and Elial Strong, who, in 
the summer of 1832, established a branch of the Church at Ernestown, 
Ontario. In December 1832, Joseph Young and his brother Brigham 
(who became the great pioneer President) established a second branch 
in Ontario, located at West Loboro. 

In 1836, Parley P. Pratt, by special appointment, began missionary 
work in and near Toronto, Canada. There he made several notable con- 
verts, including John Taylor, who later became the third President of the 
Church, Joseph and Mary Isabella Home, Joseph Fielding and his sisters 
Mary and Mercy. Mary Fielding later married Hyrum Smith and became 
the mother of President Joseph Fielding Smith. 

The Prophet Joseph Smith, accompanied by Thomas B. Marsh, vis- 
ited the branches of the Church, in and near Toronto, in the spring of 
1837. Elder John Taylor took them in his carriage to visit the various 
branches. Of this experience he wrote: 'This was as great a treat to me 

Courtesy New Brunswick Travel Bureau 


Oldest University Building in Use in Canada 

Page 290 



Photograph submitted by J. Melvin Toone 



as I ever enjoyed. I had daily opportunity of listening to the rich store of 
intelligence that flowed continually from the Prophet Joseph." 

After the removal of the Latter-day Saints to the West in the fall of 
1847, most of the members in Canada emigrated to Utah. Missionary 
work there was carried on by the Eastern States Mission until April 1919, 
when the Canadian Mission was organized, with Nephi Jensen of Salt 
Lake City as the first president. A house was secured at 36 Ferndale 
Avenue, Toronto, which for many years served as the mission headquarters. 

In 1930 there were 1,232 members of the Church in the Canadian 
Mission. In December 1955 this number had increased to 3,309, located 
in 34 branches. J. Earl Lewis is the present president of the Canadian 
Mission. There were twenty-two Relief Society organizations reported 
in December 1955. Leah Henrichsen Lewis presides over the Relief So- 
ciety of the Canadian Mission. 

Contest Announcements — 1956 


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 story writing and poetry which ap- 
pear in this Magazine and similar articles in the May issue, 1955, and in 
the June issues for the preceding nine years. 

vbliza IR. Snow [Poem Contest 

HpHE Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest Relief Society general board and em- 

1 opens with this announcement P lo >^ ° f the Relief Societ y general board. 
, \ A ^ -r> • 2 - Only one poem may be submitted by 

and closes August 15, 1956. Prizes each contestant . 

will be awarded as follows: 3. The poem must not exceed fifty 

First prize $25 lines and should be typewritten, if pos- 

Second prize $20 sible; where this cannot be done, it 

mi • 1 • £ should be legibly written. Only one side 

imrci prize $15 of the paper is tQ be used ^ A duplicate 

Prize poems will be published in copy f t h c pocm should be retained by 

the January 1957 issue of The Re- contestants to insure against loss.) 

Jief Society Magazine (the birth 4- The shcct on which thc P ocm is 

month of Eliza R. Snow ) . w / ltt , c " is t0 bc 1 wltll0Llt si § naturc or other 

~ . . . , ' ., identifying marks. 

Prize-wmmng poems become the 5 No exp i anatory matena l or picture 

property of the Relief Society gen- is to accompany the poem, 

eral board and may not be pub- 6. Each poem is to be accompanied by 

lished by Others except upon writ- a stamped envelope on which is written 

J . . f ,i i the contestant s name and address. Norn 

ten permission from the general de plumes are not t0 be used, 

board. The general board reserves y> a signed statement is to accompany 

the right to publish any of the Other the pocm submitted, certifying: 

poems submitted, paying for them a. That the author is a member of The 

at the time of publication at the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day 

regular Magazine rates. ' . . 

b b b. That the poem (state title) is 

the contestant's original work. 

Rules for the contest: c . That it has never been published. 

d. That it is not in the hands of an 

1. This contest is open to all Latter-day editor or other person with a view 

Saint women, exclusive of members of the to publication. 

Page 292 



e. That it will not be published nor 
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 

c. Rhythm and meter 

d. Accomplishment of the pur- 
pose of the poem 

e. Climax 

10. Entries must be postmarked not 
later than August 15, 1956. 

11. All entries are to be addressed to 
Relief Society Eliza R. Snow Poem Con- 
test, 40 North Main, Salt Lake City 16, 

[Relief Society Short Story Looniest 

HPHE Relief Society Short Story 
Contest for 1956 opens with 
this announcement and closes Aug- 
ust 15, 1956. 

The prizes this year will be as 
follows : 

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 Relief 
Society Magazine for 1956. 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 view 
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 re- 
cognized 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 be 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 August 15, 1956. 

10. All entries are to be addressed to 
Relief Society Short Story Contest, 
40 North Main, Salt Lake City 16, Utah. 

Poetry Is for People 

Eva Willes Wangsgaard 

POETS are lovers of life. The 
difference between poets and 
other lovers is that they are 
in love with all life, not just a single 
manifestation of it. They all have 
their creative periods and their fal- 
low periods. All people are poets 
at times; nobody is a poet all the 

Poetry is made of sympathy, com- 
passion, understanding, observation, 
insight, vision, and technique. The 
more of these attributes any poem 
encompasses, the more "major" it 
is. A poem that has but one or 
two is minor or is onlv verse. 

How much you see, how much 
you know, how high and wide your 
vision, compassion, and understand- 
ing extend is beyond my powers to 
increase. They are integral parts of 
the soul, and the soul's growth is 
an individual responsibility. I can 
help you to see the necessity of in- 
creasing observation, and observation 
covers more than sight. It is a mat- 
ter of using all the senses and com- 

passion as well. It can be trained, 
encouraged, and extended. Also, I 
can help make you aware of tech- 
nique. The rest relies upon how 
much of a poet you really are. 

Training and Practice 

Poetry technique is more exact- 
ing today than ever before. Com- 
petition is keener. Readers are 
more demanding. But you should 
be your own most demanding read- 
er. A poem is so intricate a thing 
that the best help a student can re- 
ceive is that given on a poem by 
poem basis with a competent and 
sympathetic teacher. Thus faults 
are underlined, line by line, word 
by word, letter by letter. A student 
is taught to understand the effects 
of vowel sounds, and the various 
effects of consonant combinations. 
He is given practice on verse forms, 
verse devices, climaxes, titles, and 
endings. Each student then has 
his attention drawn to the specific 
faults and can concentrate on each 



instead of wondering dazedly what 
ails the poem, why it doesn't "come 
off/' He studies with deep con- 
centration, not only of mind but 
of emotion and memory, until the 
loveliest, the truest way to express 
the feeling and idea come through. 
I had one sonnet I worked on for 
four years, again and again, before 
I realized that the difficulty lay with 
one image which was too active and 
was therefore foreign to the mood 
of the poem if not to the thought. 
When I sacrificed that image, of 
which I was so fond, and substitut- 
ed one that fitted the "fruits" I had 
begun with, I had a successful son- 
net that won a national prize. A 
really fiue poem uses all a poet's 
faculties, thinking, feeling, till the 
idea, the emotion, and the finished 
poem are one integrated whole. 

The Creative Process 

Sometimes the process is so auto- 
matic that the poet is not aware 
of the effort. Sometimes it is a 
slow and arduous task. Sometimes 
it eludes the creator entirely and 
waiting is the only answer. But, 
always, the poem must be more im- 
portant at the moment than its cre- 
ator's ego, so that he will devote 
himself to its perfection without re- 

Remember that whatever any 
teacher may say of the creative pro- 
cess, it may not necessarily be true 
of all poets at work, nor is it true 
every time with any one. It is an 
intangible thing almost impossible 
to tether and control, but it must 
be channeled to get the best results. 
Obviously, what we say is wasted 
if it does not reach the reader. 
Reaching the reader is the chief 
function of technique. It polishes 

the idea, cuts it to perfection for 
the best reflection of its lights and 
life, and makes it real in a modern 

The Language of Poetry 

The chief ingredient of a poem 
is utter honesty. Good technique 
will abide no shams, no hollowness, 
no antiquated, outgrown phrases. It 
speaks in the language of its day. 
Since we would not use expres- 
sions like o'er, ere, 'twill, or any 
other affectation from grandmother's 
day in speech, our poems will ap- 
pear false and queer if such appear 
therein, as queer as you would look 
if you went shopping in grandmoth- 
er's leg-o-mutton sleeves and velvet 

The Author and the Poem 

Your poem must be vital. It must 
be warm with life, catch a moment 
of drama, and hold up to view some 
new interpretation of truth or wid- 
er vision. It must have something 
of the universal so that others can 
identify the experience with their 
own and relive it with you, and it 
must have something that is whol- 
ly you. 

You come through your poem in 
many ways. It tells the reader 
whether you are a positive or nega- 
tive thinker, what interests you, 
whether you are compassionate or 
indifferent. The imagery and sub- 
ject matter reflect your background, 
your interests, your experiences, and 
your knowledge. Usually, for in- 
stance, it would seem false for a 
poet to describe a Utah scene that 
contains a nightingale or a skylark. 
The birds that fit the region add a 
note of authenticity to your scene 
and to what you want it to say. The 



wider the poet's knowledge of all 
the sources from which he draws 
his images, the truer they are and 
the more effective. He has put a 
bit of the flavor of his own region 
into it and created something new. 

A Poet's Preparation 

Therefore, a poet extends his 
reading. A budding writer once 
asked Mary Ellen Chase what was 
the best preparation for writing, and 
Mary Ellen answered, ''Reading/' 
When asked what should be read, 
Miss Chase answered, "Geography, 
history, and the Bible." 

I would add to that a good back- 
ground in botany to sharpen the eye 
to nature's wonders and their rela- 
tionship to human behavior. Or, 
at least, . one should be intimately 
acquainted with a garden, the fields, 
and the woods, and their plant and 
animal life. 

Sources oi Poetry 

Where do ideas come from? 
From everywhere. Anything that 
moves you is likely to move others. 
Some of my poet friends keep note- 
books into which they jot down 
some idea for some future poem. 
But when I walk or read I am a 
great reservoir into which all these 
streams flow. If I see a possibility 
for a poem, it is a poem idea, im- 
mediately and explosively. The 
range of human reaction is so wide 
it is virtually impossible to tell any- 
one else how to write. 

In reading the poetry of others, 
one should be on guard against re- 
flecting the author instead of one- 
self. Poems that spring from read- 
ing may come from being reminded 
of an experience of one's own, or 
from a passionate disagreement with 

the author's interpretation or con- 
clusion. The conception must be 
one's own. 

Poetry is a labor of devotion. The 
creator should enjoy the creation so 
much that no amount of criticism, 
study, revision, or rejection will dis- 
courage him for long, and no other 
pay is really necessary to his happi- 
ness. For poetry is like mother- 
ing, we give as a mother gives, most- 
ly unaware of whether it pays or 
not. If we fill the needs of the read- 
ers our poetry will find its place. If 
we have something that is beyond 
the reader's present needs, we must 
still be true to ourselves and our 
talent and give to it all we have. In 
this way we may eventually serve 
others as well as ourselves, and we 
do not bury or neglect our talents. 

Composing Poetry 

Here are a few practical sugges- 
tions. Say you want to reproduce 
a scene in poetry. Paint it as a 
painter would, with highlight, cen- 
ter of interest, and a single emo- 
tional effect, as peace, silence; a 
single color contrasted with its op- 
posite — a golden poplar against a 
blue skv, the mellow smell of apples, 
the pungencv of marigolds, the tang 
of chrysanthemums, the plum's 
deep purple fragrance. Then turn 
it to say something: 

Oh, surely, some gold stays when there's 

so much! 
Some gold the heart can hammer to a 

To fend off spears that grosser days may 


Or, again, you may take a single 
image and hang the whole poem 
on it, like "Autumn is a scarlet 
bird." Then you have its colors. 
You can vary their tones on his 



crest and head, and you can let him 
escape as the beauty of autumn 

"Free" Verse 

A word about "free verse." Some 
people find this form easier to write. 
Some also find it easier to read. But 
remember that freedom means only 
the right to discipline oneself. Poet- 
ry must be disciplined. It is untrue 
that the "free verse" writer's 
thoughts are too profound to fit in- 
to conventional form. Surely, the 
average "free-versifier" does not 
think more profoundly than Milton. 
He just hasn't mastered his tools as 
well. The natural discipline of hav- 
ing to say what must be said within 
the given bounds of a certain form 
helps the poet to discipline him- 

So let us conclude that in writ- 
ing poetry we sharpen our senses, 
our understanding, our insight, and 
our knowledge. We write sincere- 
ly of things we know and of ideas 
about which we feel deeply. We 
write with economy of words, be- 
cause by so doing we deepen the 
concentrate of the poem itself as 
the carbon was compressed under 
great pressure to become a dia- 
mond. We write in the language 

of our day, because it is the only 
language we know and the one that 
our readers expect and have a right 
to find. We study poetic technique 
until it is second nature for us to 
use it when we need it— as the child 
who has heard only fine English 
speaks well without consideration 
of grammar. We catch the read- 
er's interest with an intriguing title 
and opening phrase, hold it with a 
greater or lesser amount of drama 
of idea, or scene, interpret it by im- 
plication, and conclude on a high 
note. Then we satisfy ourselves, 
our readers, and look back upon 
the poem with pride long after the 
heat of composition has cooled. 
Poetry is a soul-satisfying hobby 
and to some of us it may be a mis- 


Buell, Robert K.: Verse Writing Sim- 
plified, $1.50 

Coblentz, Stanton A. : An Editor Looks 
at Poetry, $2 

Hamilton, Ann: Seven Principles of 
Poetry, $2.50 

Hillyer, Robert: First Principles oi 
Verse, $2 

Zillman, Lawrence: Writing Your 
Poem, $2.75 
The above books may be ordered from 

Writer's Digest, 22 East 12th St., Cin- 
cinnati 10, Ohio. 

(cheerfulness cJs ^nilwaus U\tght 

Anne S. W. Gould 

\ \ TE have absolutely no right to annoy others by our various moods. Let the prevail- 
ing mood be cheerful and serene; keep your other moods to yourself, or better 
still, get rid of them. 

So You Want to Write a Story! 

Frances C. Yost 

UT T OW long does it take to 
I I write a story?" a dear sister 
asked me, after reading 
one of mine published in our be- 
loved Relief Society Magazine. 

I pondered her question for a 
moment, for I had never kept track 
of the hours that go into the mak- 
ing of a story. Then, with a bit of 
a twinkle in my eye and a bushel 
full of sincerity, I replied: "It takes 
a lifetime of living; a few days of 
research; a day or two at the type- 
writer; a few weeks of polishing and 
perfecting, and sometimes years to 
jell ... and sell:' 

True, it is downright hard work 
to write stories. Louisa M. Alcott 
said: "Writing is harder work than 
digging ditches." Those who have 
tried their hand at writing for pub- 
lication will agree with her. Some- 
one with more wit than I, has said: 
"Writing is ninety-nine per cent 
perspiration, and one per cent in- 

Writing, however, is rewarding, 
not only because of a cash reward, 
at times, but because of a feeling of 
creating something, akin to the joy 
of an inventor. 

A published story is a little like 
a finished crochet cover. When it 
is completed, the beauty of a cro- 
chet piece can be shared with every 
person who enters your home. But 
the creating of a story is more far 
reaching. Your story can go into 
many homes, yes, thousands of 
homes, and be enjoyed. 

When I write a story, I try to 
write the kind of story which will 

Page 298 

be welcomed into a fine, clean, 
wholesome home — a story a moth- 
er would be proud to read to her 
growing family. 

A journalism teacher once told 
me this, which I pass along for 
what it is worth: "A writer has to 
decide early in his career, if he is 
going to write for money, or if he is 
going to write because he has some- 
thing worthy of the telling." The 
latter is much, much more im- 
portant, and, if writing is well done, 
monetary recompense will usually 

Professor Quivey of the Univer- 
sity of Utah, who gave me my start 
in fiction, said: "Write about what 
you know." That is good advice 
for any form of writing, be it col- 
umns, newspaper reporting, articles, 
or poetry. But it is even more im- 
portant in fiction, or short story 

Let us chart our course for writ- 
ing a short story. First we need a 
fresh idea, a plot so new that a 
reader can never recall anything just 
like it before. Then we need to 
create characters to act out the plot. 
We need to make scenes which are 
as realistic as the seasons them- 
selves, where the characters can live 
and breathe. Then, last, we must 
turn our characters loose to work, 
to scheme, to live the plot to the 
inevitable ending. 

Plotting for a Plot 

To define a plot, we can say it is 
a theme for our story. In other 
words, it is a problem, and the so- 



lution of that problem. There must 
be trouble brewed and trouble 
solved to the satisfaction of the 
characters in the story, as well as to 
the readers, to say nothing of the 
writer and editor. 

So, to start a story, we must have 
a fresh, wholesome plot. It is best 
to get the thread of the story from 
real life. Perhaps it may be an in- 
cident from your own life, or from 
someone in your family, your an- 
cestors, or the little couple down 
the street. It may be the teenagers 
you teach in English class. What- 
ever it may be, it must have a prob- 
lem, and a logical solution to that 
problem. To write a story that 
lives, the plot must indeed have 
life. So take your plot, or thread 
of your story, from real life, never 
from something which you have 
read. There is a law, and there are 
penalties against literary borrowing, 
called plagiarism. 

Creating Characters 

Now that you have the plot, or 
thread of your story, well in mind, 
the second part is to pick the 
characters for the story. The main 
character, who has the trouble and 
who will solve the problem, and 
those characters with whom he 
comes in contact in the events of 
the trouble and the solution. Make 
the characters live. They cannot 
be puppets whose strings you will 
pull on a stage. Your characters 
must be flesh and blood; they must 
be created by you, your very brain 

If you put your next door neigh- 
bor in a story, be very guarded, as 
she may recognize herself. You 
must make your characters truly 

your own, of your own creation. 
Those characters must live and 
breathe their parts. If your main 
character weeps, the writer must 
feel the sting and the misery that 
the character feels. 

Characters must be described. I 
like to describe my characters as 
they appear, and through the eyes 
of the viewpoint character in the 
story. For example, if the heroine 
sees the hero come upon the scene, 
let her tell in her own words how 
he looks, not you, the narrator. 

It is well to remember in charac- 
terizing, that people will do the 
logical thing, the thing which is in 
harmony with their personalities, 
their backgrounds, and their train- 
ing. If your character is stingy, 
don't expect him to turn tail in a 
short story and be a spendthrift. He 
might change in a lifelong novel, 
but not in a short story. If a 
character is a hothead, then let him 
solve his problem in a hotheaded 
manner. Coolness and calmness will 
not come as a halo to envelop him 
even in the story you write. Things 
happen logically, even in stories, 
or the story doesn't jell and become 
a satisfying and integrated portrayal 
of life. 

Dividing a Story Into Scenes 

Now that you have the thread of 
your story, or should we say, plot; 
and you have your characters, at 
least the main one; you are ready 
to turn your thoughts to dividing 
your story into scenes. As the play- 
wright divides his play into acts, so 
should you dramatize your story in 
short, well-developed sections. 

The first scene should reveal the 
trouble, and the closer to the begin- 



ning of the story it appears, the bet- 
ter. Dramatize, don't tell, what is 
wrong. Don't tell what happens, 
let it happen. Make the reader's 
heart sympathize for the characters 
in distress. 

The second scene will vary with 
every story. It may be a. brief flash- 
back, a reversion which might go 
back into the childhood of the lead- 
ing character. The flashback should 
have bearing on the trouble, as well 
as develop the plot and suspense. 
Some stories are told entirely in 
the flashback, except for the begin- 
ning and the ending, but this tech- 
nique is difficult to master and is 
usually not so effective as direct 
narration. Whatever the scenes 
are, they should be worked out 
systematically, dramatically, and 
filled to the limit with interest and 
feeling. The question might arise 
as to how many scenes to have in a 
story. The answer is: as few as 
the story requires for its comple- 
tion. Three to five scenes may be 
sufficient in a three thousand word 

The last, and of course the 
most important scene, is the finale, 
which, ideally, may solve the prob- 
lem to the satisfaction or accept- 
ance of the leading character, the 
writer, the editor, and the reader. 

That is all there is to writing a 
story, except the things which make 
a story live and breathe. 

Making a Story Live and Breathe 

It would be foolish to say that an 
effective short story could be writ- 
ten by planning a plot, creating 
characters, dividing the story into 
scenes, and then writing it. It would 
be just as foolish to say a story can 

be written by blind and witless tap- 
ping on typewriter keys. 

There is no exact recipe for writ- 
ing a story. It depends almost en- 
tirely upon the writer's tempera- 
ment, the way her mind works, and 
the experiences through which she 
has passed. It is a matter of person- 
ality, background, ability, and train- 
ing rather than one of definite di- 

I can, however, suggest a five- 
point check, to test a finished story. 
If you can answer yes to each ques- 
tion, there is a chance you have an 
effective story: 

i. Have you put the leading character 
in a dilemma from which there is no 
way out without effort, sacrifice, or a 
strategic decision? 

2. Have you made the character take 
the wrong path, or make mistakes, until 
she is brought up with a jolt to the real- 
ization she must do something about her 

3. Has she gone through dark moments 
when everything looked confusing, and 
it seemed impossible for her to find a 
solution to her predicament? 

4. Has she, just before the climax, en- 
countered still another difficulty, the big- 
gest one possible? 

5. Then, in the climax, did the events 
work out logically, whether or not the 
forecast is for complete happiness, or a 
lighted path toward future accomplish- 

If you cannot answer yes to these 
considerations, it may be advisable 
to revise your story or plan a new 

Who Should Write 

No person should tell another, 
"You should not write." Who are 



we to judge another's untried poten- 
tial talent? There may be a talent 
hidden in a person that only fail- 
ures will bring to the surface. If 
there is no talent, time and dis- 
couragement will prove it to the 
aspiring writer. 

At any rate, the story within you, 
can only be written by you. No one 
else can write it. You can tell your 
story to a writer, but when it is 
written it is the author's story, not 
yours. No one else can put your 
heartbeat there. So, the story with- 
in you, burning to be written, must 
be written by you. 

The road to writing is marked 
with stones of discouragement. She 
who chooses to write must Spartan- 
ize herself, toughen her spirit to 
take those stones of discouragement 
in her stride, as she climbs ever up- 
ward and onward. She must teach 
her ego to compromise between 
what she wants to write and what 
may be acceptable and desired by 
her publishing medium. 

It has been said: "A writer must 
learn to live mentally and emotion- 
ally to the greatest depths and 
heights, then translate the product 
of living into manuscripts that add 
to the living of others/' 

Last, a woman who chooses writ- 
ing as a hobby, along with her ca- 

reer as a wife and mother, should 
decide early to keep writing strictly 
as a hobby, and never envy women 
who have decided to follow it as a 
full-time career. She should never 
write when her conscience tells her 
she is neglecting her family duties. 
She must believe that writing brings 
satisfying and worthwhile results 
only when she follows the ideals of 
her womanhood and apportions her 
time, talent, and energy into chan- 
nels of lasting achievement. 


Blackiston, Elliott: Short Story Writing 
{or Profit, Writer's Digest, 22 East 12th 
Street, Cincinnati 10, Ohio, $2.50. 

Campbell, Walter S.: Writing Advice 
and Devices, Writer's Digest, 22 East 
12th Street, Cincinnati 10, Ohio, $1.50. 

Egri, Lajos: Your Key to Successful 
Writing, Holt and Co. Inc., 257 4th 
Avenue, New York 10, New York, $3.00. 

Grace, William J.: How to Be Creative 
With Words, Fordham University Press, 
22 Park Place, New York 7, New York, 

Hamilton, Ann: How to Revise Your 
Own Stories, Writer's Digest, 22 East 
12th Street, Cincinnati 10, Ohio, $1.50. 

Mowery, William Byron: Professional 
Short Story Writing, Thomas Y. Crowell 
Co., 432 4th Avenue, New York 16, New 
York, $3.50. 

Short Stories for Study, Harvard Uni- 
versity Press, 44 Francis Avenue, Cam- 
bridge 38, Massachusetts, $4.75. 

Song QJrom the U\tm of Stu 


Elsie McKinnon Strachan 

The rancher quells his radio, 
The red barn, wrapped in starry hush, 
Is outlined by the moon's ripe glow, 
And silence leans where shadows brush 
From pasture land to terraced hill; 
But none requests the mockingbird 
Be still. 

Who Sings the Lullaby 

Rosa Lee Lloyd 

C ICILY Burke Adams sat at 
her polished mahogany desk 
and sighed contentedly. 
Everything in her life was just the 
way she wanted it. At last. 

She was back in the business 
world as Mr. Holvorson's private 
secretary; her three children, Stuffy, 
just fifteen months, Susan, past 
three, and Linda almost five, were 
in the capable hands of her friend 
Nan Jeffery; and Hank her hus- 
band, bless his big, obliging heart, 
was almost contented with the set- 

At least, she thought, ignoring 
her apprehension, he didn't scold 
about it anymore. 

Her beautiful fingers with the 
long crimson nails went through 
the morning reports. She hadn't 
told Hank she had promised Mr. 
Halvorson, when he took her back 
last month, that she would work 
for him permanently. 

She lifted her head, listening. 
Mr. Cromer from San Francisco 
was in Mr. Halvorson's private of- 
fice. Cicily hoped they had every- 
thing settled before noon. It was 
Saturday, and she wanted to go to 
the beach with Hank and the chil- 

Cicilv looked around at the ele- 
gant office. This was where she 
belonged. This was where she 
reigned like a well-dressed queen 
and she was well dressed, she 

Her clothes were expensive, of 
course, but Kale Halvorson insisted 
that his secretary look expensive, 

Page 302 

and he expected her to be gay as 
well as efficient. 

"And my secretary must be avail- 
able at all times," he had told her. 
"We don't punch time clocks in 
this office." 

Cicily lifted her dark head proud- 
ly and mentally patted herself on 
the back. She hadn't acquired all 
this without a struggle; arguments 
with Hank, disappointments about 
getting home to dinner and calling 
off holiday arrangements with the 
children— like this week end when 
Hank wanted to go to the beach, 
but she might have to work with 
Mr. Cromer. She wasn't sure yet. 
She and Hank had argued about it, 
but, as usual, she had won him 

The corners of her mouth turned 
up. There weren't many young 
women of twenty-six who had 
everything; the love of a good-look- 
ing husband, a coach at Westhill's 
College; the love of three joyous 
children; a beautiful home in the 
Fairmont Park district; a friend like 
Nan to tend the children; and a 
job that meant success, compli- 
ments, and more money. And she 
had Aunt Flo, her mother's sister, 
who had always been a real mother 
to her, as her mother was away so 

Cicily reached for the memo- 
randa pad and made a note: Call 
Aunt Flo tomorrow, Mother's Day. 
Always when she thought of moth- 
erhood, Aunt Flo came softly into 
her mind, like the wistful fragrance 
of violets growing beside the old 



house in Clayview of Aunt Flo's, 
where she had spent her childhood 
when her mother left her to go to 
New York to work as a designer. 

Aunt Flo had been widowed at 
twenty-five, when she had four stal- 
wart sons. She had always been 
home when Cicily and the boys 
came home from school and, by 
some remarkable coincidence, she 
was usually just taking a pan of 
gingerbread from the oven or whip- 
ping the cream for apple tarts. 

Cicily bit her lip. She was get- 
ting sentimental. She had done 
her own part as a mother — three 
children in six years. Now she 
could sit back and gather her lau- 
rels. She was where she reallv be- 
longed, right here in Kale Halvor- 
son's office. 

She looked at the door as Mr. 
Halvorson came out with Mr. Cro- 
mer, a big, gray-haired man with 
peaked eyebrows. 

"Sorry you can't stay over," Mr. 
Halvorson was saying, and his voice 
told her he had closed the deal sat- 
isfactorily. That meant Mr. Cro- 
mer would be leaving town. Cecily 
was thinking joyously that it was 
the last appointment for the day; 
she could leave early and take the 
children to the beach. She wouldn't 
call Hank, she'd make it a surprise! 

AN hour later, Cicily hurried 
down the pathway toward her 
home. She whistled. She hummed. 
She tossed her work to the wind 
until Monday morning — she could 
be a little mother to her heart's 
content. They'd all roll on the 
beach and build castles in the sand, 
and when the children were asleep 
she and Hank would dance at the 
Pavilion, Her heart lifted at the 

thought of this long week end with 
Hank and the children. 

She put her finger on the door- 
bell, listening for the customary gal- 
lop of little feet, the delighted hub- 
bub of little voices, the swoop of 
love that would envelop her. 

But the door didn't open even at 
the third long ring. 

Cicily leaned against the door 
frame. Disappointment seeped 
through her. The grocery store? 
Nan liked to select the groceries 
personally on Saturday. But would 
she take the whole family with her 
while she did the marketing? 

And Hank? Had he gone golf- 
ing? He had been restless lately. 
She remembered his brooding eyes 
during their argument last night. 

Oh, well, they'd be back soon, 
she thought, regaining her poise as 
she opened the door with her pass- 

She went through the hallway. 
Why was it so dark in here at this 
time of day? And then she noticed 
the drapes at the windows were 
drawn together the way she left 
them when they were going to the 
beach for the afternoon. 

Cicily spun around in the middle 
of the living room and raced to the 
kitchen. The picnic basket was 
gone from the top of the cupboard! 

No, she thought, Hank wouldn't 
do a thing like this! He wouldn't 
just pile Nan and the children into 
the car and drive out to the nice 
cool lake. He would have phoned 
her. But maybe he had tried to 
phone her, and she had already left 
the office. He would think she had 
gone with Mr. Halvorson and Mr. 

She walked with a dull ache back 



to the living room and sat down on 
the settee. She kicked off her shoes 
and curled up kitten-fashion. The 
place was like an empty shell. 

Her arms ached to cuddle Stuffy's 
little body, to feel Susan's hands 
tug at her, to hear Linda say: 
"Mumsy! You're home! Oh, 
goody!" Linda's voice always bub- 
bled, but when she said this there 
was something more, a sort of rev- 

Cicily leaned back and closed 
her eyes. She could see them riding 
along in the cream-colored convert- 
ible. Hank liked to ride with the 
top down on a bright day like this. 
Stuffy would be standing up in the 
front seat, no doubt, squeezed up 
tightly against his dad, one chubby 
arm around his neck and the other 
arm around Nan. Linda and Susan 
in their ruffly little blouses and tiny 
jeans and those cute little blue out- 
ing caps she had bought for them 
last week, would sit in the rear seat 
with the huge wicker picnic basket. 

CHE wondered what Nan had 
worn, but Nan would still be 
Nan no matter what she had worn. 
Her husband's plane had crashed 
last winter. He was making a slow 
recovery in the hospital and that 
was why Nan was able to take over 
for Cicily. Nan wanted a home 
and children of her own and was 
praying for the day Rod could come 

Cicily went nervously through the 
house, hoping Hank had left a note 
for her, but there wasn't a message 
of any kind. They had simply gone 
away. She tried to think what Aunt 
Flo would do in a situation like 
this. That had always been a half- 

humorous, but very workable motto 
with Cicily, when she had a prob- 
lem. What would Aunt Flo do? 

Aunt Flo would get busy. She 
would do something. But what, 
Cicily wondered. 

The house was spotlessly clean 
and her clothes and the children's 
were in order. What was there to 
do? Mr. Halvorson didn't need her 
today, Hank and the children didn't 
need her. 

Her heart turned over and was 
suddenly very quiet. She sat down 
limply on her bed and stared out 
of the window. Hank and the chil- 
dren didn't need her. They were 
out on a picnic having fun; Hank 
would build a fire on the beach and 
they would put weiners on sticks 
and toast them until they were 
crunchy brown. If Stuffy got tired, 
Nan would cuddle him in her arms 
and sing to him until he went to 

The long afternoon dragged by. 
Hour by hour. Cicily read the 
morning paper, she turned the dial 
of the radio aimlessly. Nothing in- 
terested her. At four o'clock she 
poured a glass of milk and opened 
the cookie jar. It was filled with 
cookies shaped like witches and 
brownies with creamy white frost- 
ing for eyes and mouths. She could 
almost hear the children squeal with 
joy when they saw them. Nan had 
probably made them for tomorrow. 
Aunt Flo had made cookies like 
this when Cicily was a little girl. 

She took her milk into the living- 
room and looked around for some- 
thing to read. There were chil- 
dren's books piled on the table 
near the chair where Nan always 
sat. Cicily looked at the one on 



top: "Bo-Bo and the Starry-Eyed 

"Bo-Bo/' she repeated. That was 
the word Stuffy had said last night 
when she came home from the din- 
ner Mr. Halvorson had given at the 
Brokers Club. She had gone into 
Nan's room to kiss Stuffy good- 
night. He had been standing up 
in his crib, his fat little hands hold- 
ing to the wooden bars as he bobbed 
up and down, gleefully. 

"Bo-Bo! Bo-Bo! Bo-Bo!" he 
had chanted. 

Nan had been undressing Susan, 
and Linda was taking off her shoes. 

"Oh, listen!" Linda had said, sud- 
denly, clapping her hands. "Stuffy 
can say Bo-Bo. Isn't that wonder- 
ful, Mumsy? Nanny reads it to 

Cicily had thought nothing about 
it at the time. But now, it wasn't 
the word Bo-Bo that pinched her 
heart, but the way Linda had said 

It was natural, she assured her- 
self, for children to nickname the 
one who was with them all the 
time — the one who read them lit- 
tle stories, patted their little bruises, 
made them sugar cookies shaped 
like brownies and witches. 

She put the book down with a 
thump. She was getting silly. This 
silent house was enough to make 
anyone nervous. 

HTHE telephone rang. She reached 
for it eagerly. It might be 

But it wasn't. It was Kale Hal- 

"Glad you were in," he said brisk- 
ly. His voice had the tight, held- 
in tone that meant something big 
was in the making. 

"The Severage option comes up 
tomorrow at a private meeting in 
Denver," he went on. "I just got 
a wire. Looks like the smartest 
thing we can do is be on the spot. 
We'll leave here by plane tomor- 

He sounded as impersonal as 
though he were relating their plans 
into a dictaphone. 

Cicily's heart rebelled against it. 
She couldn't go away on Sunday, 
and it was Mother's Day, too. Hank 
would be very angry. 

"I'll have a cab pick you up at 
two o'clock tomorrow," Mr. Halvor- 
son concluded. 

Cicily felt anger mounting in her. 
This was ridiculous. Halvorson act- 
ed as though he owned her; as 
though she didn't have a life of 
her own; as though Mother's Day 
wasn't the most important day in 
the year. Hank and the children 
had been planning on it for weeks- 
it was hei day! 

But she walked like a robot into 
her bedroom and took her suitcase 
from the shelf in the closet. Of 
course she had to go. There was 
no argument about it. You didn't 
argue with the boss, and Mr. Hal- 
vorson was the boss. He was the 
one who had given her that gener- 
ous bonus last month. Her reverie 
was interrupted by the sound of 
stomping on the stairs. She raised 
her head to listen. Yes, the chil- 
dren were racing down the hall- 
way, and those heavy steps behind 
them would be Hank, carrying 
Stuffy. Oh, joy! She was glad they 
were back. She opened the front 
door, stooped and gathered Linda 
and Susan in her arms. They 
smelled of sea-weed, and their little 



faces were still rough with salt, but 
their arms were tight around her. 

"She's home!" Linda squealed. 
"Look, Daddy! Mumsy's home!" 

Cicily lifted her eyes. Hank was 
beaming down at her. 

"How come?" he grinned. "I 
thought you were snagging a cus- 
tomer for Halvorson?" 

"Not today, darling. Or tonight. 
Where's Nan?" 

"We dropped her off at the hos- 

They all crowded through the 
doorway together and Cicily reached 
for Stuffy, sleeping against Hank's 

"I'll put him in bed," she mur- 
mured. "Little man has had a busy 

"I'll say he has," Hank laughed, 
following her to his bed. "Know 
something, Mrs. Adams? Your son 
is growing up. Nan taught him to 
float today!" 

"Not really! He's been afraid of 

"Not anymore. She kept her 
hand under his back, and he looked 
up at her with those great big eyes 
of his like a scared puppy. But she 
kept on. After a while, she took 
her hand away and the little tyke 
made it alone. He was looking at 
her all the time and she was smil- 
ing at him, encouraging him. He 
knew he was doing something big. 
Gosh, he was cute! Nan is a natural 

Long after they were in bed, 
Cicily lay awake watching the sky 
through the east windows. The 
man in the moon wasn't smiling to- 
night. He had a sad face, she 

Her eyes went to Hank sleeping 

beside her. Someday she was going 
to buy a bed made to order so 
Hank's feet wouldn't hang over the 
end that way. His face was solemn 
in sleep. Solemn and quiet. She 
liked to see him grin. A grin was 
natural for Hank. But his face had 
settled in that solemn resigned way 
after she had told him about going 
to Denver with Mr. Halvorson to- 

/"MCILY watched the moonlight 
highlight his strong, even fea- 
tures, the square chin, the ruffled 
brown hair. She loved him terribly. 
And he loved her — she knew that. 
Had he finally grown tired of fight- 
ing to keep her home with him and 
the children? Or did his casual ac- 
ceptance of her position with Mr. 
Halvorson mean that he didn't 
miss her quite so much and that 
the children didn't miss her — quite 
so much? 

She heard Stuffy whimper in the 
room across the hall. She waited. 
Sometimes he did that and then 
went back to sleep. But the whimp- 
er broke into a wail, a terrified wail. 
Cicily got up and hurried to his 
bed in Nan's room. He was stand- 
ing up, his chubby hands around 
the wooden bars, shaking them 

"Baby!" Cicily crooned, putting 
her arms around him. "Baby boy! 
Mumsy's here. Right here." 

The wail grew louder. She lifted 
him in her arms, but he stiffened 
his body against her, and she could 
hardly hold him. Hank came in 
groggy with sleep. 

Cicily hurried to the kitchen for 
a glass of milk; he hadn't eaten 
since the picnic, but he pushed the 



glass away with both hands. He 
looked past Hank's shoulder to the 
door and wailed dismally. 

"What in the world? Hank, shall 
I call a doctor?" Cicily asked. 

"He's not sick," Hank said, im- 

A sleepy-eyed Linda came to the 
door. "He wants Nanny," she said, 
philosophically. "He always yells 
like that after his nap till Nanny 

Cicily caught Hank's sour look. 

"Nonsense!" she said. "Here, 
give him to me." 

But Stuffy wouldn't relax against 
her. He refused to be cuddled. 

They heard the front door open, 
quick footsteps coming down the 
hall, and then Nan stood in the 

She hesitated, looking from Cic- 
ily to Hank, then to Stuffy strug- 
gling in his arms. Stuffy saw her, 
too. He stretched his arms toward 
her, and Cicily noticed, with a little 
sick feeling, that his eyes had— that 
special look that a child gives to the 
one he loves best. 

Hank put him in Nan's arms and 
walked out of the room. Cicily had 
never seen his face so grim before. 

Stuffy's wail turned into a long 
satisfied sigh, as he cuddled against 
Nan's breast. 

"See, Mumsy," Linda pointed to 
them. "I told you, Mumsy." 

OANK was quiet coming home 
from church. The children 
laughed and babbled in the back 
seat of the car, and Linda began to 
chant: "We've got a secret — we've 
got a secret . . . ." 

Susan chimed in with her flutey 
little voice, and Stuffy beat his 

hands together trying to follow the 

Cicily gave Hank an eye-corner 
glance. His big chin squared off 
grimly. The Mother's Day program 
must have stirred him. He had 
loved his mother dearly, but she 
had been dead almost three years 
now. Hank hadn't looked like this 
last Mother's Day or the year before 
that, or anytime that Cicily could 

"Better telephone your Mother," 
he said and his voice had an edge 
to it. 

"I sent her a gift," Cicily ex- 
plained. "I don't think I'll call- 
it's expensive. New York is a long 
way. Anyhow, she might be out 
for the week end. But I do want 
to call Aunt Flo." 

A warm joy went through her at 
the thought of talking to Aunt Flo. 

Hank's mouth folded in. Cicily 
guessed he was holding back some 
bitter remark. She wondered what 
was going on in his big curly brown 

"We've got a secret!" Linda 
chanted again. "We've got a se- 

He swung the car into the drive- 
way. The children climbed out 
and ran ahead of them. Even Stuf- 
fy crawled up the steps on his hands 
and knees. 

The minute Cicily entered the 
house she noticed the table was set 
in the dining room. Nan had used 
the heirloom lace cloth and the 
sterling silver and the bouquet of 
talisman roses Hank had sent were 
in the center of the table. 

And then she saw the cake on 
the big silver tray at her place. It 
was creamy white, three layers high, 



and across the top a pale pink icing 
formed the word "Mother." Nan 
must have worked like crazy to 
make that cake while they were 

Linda, Susan, and Stuffy stared 
at it. They were dumb with won- 
der. But only for a moment. 

"Nanny made it!" Linda shrieked, 
clapping her hands and racing back 
to the door. "Daddy! Hurry! See 
what Nanny made!" 

Now it was Hank's turn to stare 
at it, big-eyed. 

"Some cake!" he breathed. His 
mouth softened around the edges. 
"No wonder the children were ex- 
cited. I don't blame them! Come 
on, let's wash our hands while 
Mumsy fixes dinner." 

Cicily picked up a note on the 
tray beside the cake. 

"Dear Cicily," it began: 

"There's potato salad and sliced 
ham in the refrigerator. I'm going 
up to the hospital. I'll try to be 
back before you leave. Nan" 

CHE crushed the note in her hand 
and took her hat off, thought- 
fully, as she went to her room. 

She hurried to the kitchen, tying 
on her apron as she went. She was 
glad Nan wasn't here. She would 
have Hank and the children all to 
herself for this little while before 
the cab came for her. 

Her eyes flew to the clock. 
Twelve-thirty. They would have to 
hurry — it would take extra time 
when the children gave her their 
presents. That was always a big 
event. She sighed gratefully. Hank 
had taught them to appreciate her. 

And she wanted to call Aunt 
Flo. That was one treat she had 

promised herself for today — a little 
visit with Aunt Flo on the tele- 
phone no matter what it cost. 

She swung around from the re- 
frigerator with a bowl of salad in 
her hands. She stood very still. A 
little bell tinkled in her mind. She 
was poised on a pinpoint of time, 
aware of its signal. 

Why did she want to call Aunt 
Flo instead of her own mother? 
Why? Why? But the answer was 
already in her mind before she 
asked the question. Because it was 
Aunt Flo who had been a real 
mother to her. It was Aunt Flo she 
remembered with that deep, warm, 
nostalgic longing that children have 
for a true mother. It was Aunt Flo 
who had stayed by her bed when 
she had the measles and the mumps 
and sang all those crazy little songs 
to her that would always be a part 
of her very self. 

Another woman had borne her, 
but it wasn't merely that biological 
fact that made a mother; it was the 
years of sacrifice, the years of being 
there when you were needed, the 
years of rearing your children the 
way Aunt Flo had done. 

There was a stinging behind her 
eyes. She could hear Hank and the 
children laughing and talking in the 
bathroom. Bless his big fatherly 

But last night even Hank 
couldn't pacify Stuffy when he had 
awakened, frightened. He had cried 
for Nan because she had become 
close and dear to him this last 
month when Cicily had been away 
so much. In another month Nan 
would mean more to them than 
Cicily did. And if Nan had to 
leave, someone else would take her 



place, and she might not be so un- 
selfish as Nan. 

She bent her head in her hands. 
What would Aunt Flo do, she won- 
dered achingly, if she were in her 
shoes? If she had a job she loved, 
what would Aunt Flo do? 

She put the salad on the table 
and walked determinedly back to 
her bedroom. Aunt Flo's picture 
was on her dressing table. She lift- 
ed it and let the sunlight from the 
window shine on the wide whim- 
sical face. Aunt Flo's mouth was 
still young at the corners. Cicily 
could never look at her picture 
without a surge of gratitude, a flow 
of love. She hoped her children 
would love her the way she loved 
Aunt Flo. 

A conversation she had with her 
before Stuffy was born came back 

again: "I'm glad you're having lots 
of babies, Cicily. You're prettier 
now than at any other time. And 
a woman can't ask for much more 
than to be a queen in her own home. 
Don't let someone else rear your 
children, Cicily, unless it's an ab- 
solute necessity. Remember any- 
thing worth having has to be 

Cicily put the picture back on 
the dressing table. 

'Thanks, Aunt Flo," she mur- 
mured. T know what to do, now." 

She walked with a queenly tilt 
to her head and dialed Mr. Halvor- 
son's number. He might as well 
know he must get another secre- 
tary, because from now on she was 
staying home with Hank and their 
children. This was where she be- 

JLove s Qjoltage 

Maude Rubin 

Slow hands guiding the needle 

Pull the bright threads through, 

Caress the fabric gently 

Just as they used to do 

When rose-sprigged silk was a dance-dress, 

When brocade blues were ties 

Chosen for Jim's Christmas present 

Because they matched his eyes. 

Long thoughts follow the needle, 

Sew memories into the quilt — 

Brief tears freshen love's foliage 

That grief nor time can wilt. 

uttaaen valley 

Ethel Jacobson 

Amid forbidding peaks, the hidden valley lies 
Battlemented, sheltered from interlopers' eyes. 
But silently the mole burrows in its sod 
And the waxwing flashes where its willows nod. 

The lizard blinks and suns on a windless ledge; 
The deer come at dusk to the spring's ferny edge. 
And bluer than the harebell are heaven's arching skies 
Mirrored in a stream, where a hidden valley lies. 

Sixty LJears J/igo 

Excerpts From the Woman's Exponent, May 1, and May 15, 1896 

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

FOOD FOR THOUGHT: When we contemplate what we are and what we 
should be, we find that the mind needs food as well as the body: and needs plain 
substantial food, which will both refresh and strengthen it. Where can it be found 
if not in the holy scriptures. Here we find the thoughts, the feelings, and the trials of 
people who lived in this fallen world many ages since .... Is this not food for thought; 
especially when you see an alwise ruler leading, guiding and controlling every event to 
benefit and preserve the precious child, until his father saw him again . . . .? 

— Zion's Convert 


The twilight gently deepens 

The stars shine one by one; 
The sun's last fading rays, 

Proclaim the day is done .... 

Oh! Does the sun's last setting 

And the shadows that come with the night 

Remind us that we are but mortal 
Not always to walk by sight? 

— Lydia D. Alder 

LAW: Law is the first grand principle by which man is protected temporally 
and spiritually. If we transgress the laws of nature, sickness is liable to be the result. 
If we transgress the laws of God, we meet his displeasure or disapproval .... Our spirit 
has then lost luster, hope is deferred, the law has been broken, and discouragement is 
the result, because His teachable spirit has departed .... 

— Dr. Elvira Stevens Barney 

stake organizations of Relief Society in all the stakes of Zion are urgently requested 
to prepare a complete list of their stake officers . . . with Post Office address of each 
person and forward to this office for publication. These lists will be carefully arranged 
and printed in the Deseiet News .... 

— Editorial 

THE BOOK OF MORMON: Did any one ever read This Book of Mormon with 
an inquiring mind to know why it was kept expressly for this period of time, for this 
generation? . . . Now when we contemplate these things we see our Father's designs 
and purposes come in their own time and place; all for a wise purpose known only to 
Himself, yet being His children we learn them by experience: While he knows the 
results before they are seen by us ... . This then is an important era of time, great 
events will transpire in these days . . . Would it not be well then to be humble since 
we claim God to be our Father: and remember this life is a school where there are so 
many lessons to learn .... The Book of Mormon shows this in terms so plain that 
you cannot be mistaken. 

— M. E. K. 

Page 310 

Woman's Sphere 

Ramona W. Cannon 

TJNITED States Treasurer, Mrs. 
Ivy Baker Priest, was one of 
thirteen women honored in Wash- 
ington, D.C., as outstanding in 
their special fields — hers, govern- 
ment. The award was a silver 
Winged Victory on a mahogany 
base. The selection was made by 
an all-men's group, the Golden 
Slipper Square Club. Senator Mar- 
garet Chase Smith and free-lance 
writer Inez Robb (a native of Ida- 
ho) were also among those hon- 

1 l WADLEY, of Providence, 
Utah, was recently honored by the 
Utah State Agricultural College, 
along with six men, as being illus- 
trious graduates of the school. For- 
mer director of home economics 
education for the State Department 
of Public Instruction, Mrs. Wadley 
was cited as being a ''religious lead- 
er and advocate and practicer of 
full family living." Mrs. Wad- 
ley has been a contributor to The 
Relief Society Magazine and other 
Church magazines. Very severely 
handicapped as a result of polio- 
myelitis, she carries on at home 
with five children and teaches a 
class in Mutual, with indomitable 
faith and will power. 


(1865-1932), "First Lady of 
the American Theatre/' at the turn 

of the century, is the subject of a 
new biography Mrs. Fiske and the 
American Theatre, by Archie Binns 
and Olive Kooken. Mrs. Fiske was 
particularly famous for her roles in 
the plays of Henrik Ibsen (1828- 
1906), the great Norwegian drama- 
tist. Mrs. Fiske often repeated: 
"Actors on a stage should behave 
somewhat like people." 

HPHE General Federation of Wom- 
en's Clubs is now working with 
its 1,000,000 members to lead a 
campaign against "salacious and in- 
decent" magazines, including the 
"gossip-blackmail" type. They rec- 
ommend the adoption of a national 
code of ethics by magazine pub- 

OIRTHDAY congratulations are 
extended to: Mrs. Ursula Band- 
ley Gee, Provo, Utah, ninety-eight; 
Mrs. Elizabeth Jane Terry Blair, 
Salt Lake City, ninety-five; Mrs. 
Mary Jane Lamb Robinson, Sandy, 
Utah, ninety-four; Mrs. Matilda S. 
Butler, Salt Lake City, ninety-three; 
Mrs. Annie E. Chambers Ander- 
son, Salt Lake City, ninety-two; and 
the following women who have 
reached their ninetieth birthdays: 
Mrs. Robenia Marshall Ellis, Boun- 
tiful, Utah; Mrs. Hannah Okerlund 
Jakeman, Salt Lake City; Mrs. Mar- 
tha Piatt, Burley, Idaho; Mrs. Maria 
Thompson, Ephraim, Utah. 

Page 311 


VOL. 43 

MAY 1956 

NO. 5 

cJhe \£ift for I [bothers LDay 

\X7ITH the general observance of 
appreciation for mothers 
shown on Mother's Day, there 
comes to a Latter-day Saint mother 
the realization of the supreme gift 
which each of her children may give 
to her and for which her heart 
yearns. It may also be a time of 
soul-searching to a mother as she 
asks herself if she has done her part 
in obtaining this most precious gift 
from her children. 

She recalls the early, crowded 
years when her children were young 
and when their insistent demands 
for attention and the necessity of 
caring for their bodily wants— wash- 
ing, ironing, mending, cooking, 
cleaning, straightening time and 
again, sewing, and nursing their ail- 
ments—seemed to leave her little 
time for nurturing their spiritual 
bodies. But now experience has 
taught her that the very persistence 
of their need for her constant at- 
tention provided her with the price- 
less opportunity of watching the 
character development of each of 
her children at its very inception. 
Her watchful presence permitted 
her to guide and correct improper 
tendencies before they became 
wrong habits rooted in the daily 
living pattern. Moreover the moth- 
er now realizes that the utter trust 
and dependence of her children up- 
on her when they were young, has 

Page 312 

helped to build their love and con- 
fidence in her today, so that they 
continue to seek her counsel and 
guidance in the problems of their 

She may also recall on this Moth- 
er's Day how her patience was often 
tried, when her children brought 
home their friends to play— a play 
that almost demanded policing, at 
times, to keep the peace. The ac- 
tivities changed over the years, how- 
ever, candy-pulls, games, hobbies, 
and dancing, each in turn, strength- 
ened choice friendships and cen- 
tered the children's attention on 
home. Unobstrusively mother 
watched, suggested, and planned 
that her children's lives might blos- 
som and mature in the eternal 
bonds of marriage. 

And so on this Mother's Day, 
material gifts are treasured only as 
they reveal thoughtfulness and 
manifestation of love. The most 
precious gift which children can 
give to their mother is the knowl- 
edge that they are walking the 
straight and narrow path to immor- 
tality and eternal life. For mother 
to have an assurance that her fam- 
ily pattern will continue through- 
out eternity, with all of its com- 
ponent parts welded together and 
complete, is the supreme gift which 
brings peace to a mother's soul. 

-M. C. S. 


Lrrogram for the I iovember c/ast Sunday 
(averting 1 1 Leeting 

HPHE special program for Sunday, November 4, 1956, will be mailed to 
Relief Society stake presidents early in May. We urge stake presidents 
to distribute these programs to the wards immediately upon receipt of 

Many organizations have asked for information regarding the music 
for the Singing Mothers in order that they may learn the numbers during 
the summer months. Two numbers are to be sung by the Singing Moth- 
ers, one to be an appropriate number selected by the local society itself, 
and the other one is: 

'Teach Me, O Lord/' by Hamblen, three-part chorus, S.S.A., No. 9021, 
published by Chapell and Company, Inc., RKO Building, 
Rockefeller Center, New York; price 20 cents per copy. 

If your local dealer is unable to supply this number, it may be ordered 
from the following stores : 

Beesley Music Company, 70 South Main Street, Salt Lake City, Utah. 
Daynes Music Company, 15 East First South Street, Salt Lake City. 
Glen Brothers Music Company, 74 South Main Street, Salt Lake City 

*sl Centenary of uiettef Society d^)ut of Lrnnt 

A Centenary of Relief Society was published for the one-hundredth anni- 
versary of Relief Society in 1942 and contains much valuable historical 
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 con- 
template 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 organization is either 
printed on the cover or written on the flyleaf on the inside so as to indi- 

Page 313 


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 much more durable than leather. 

The Deseret News Press, Salt Lake City, will bind the Centenary 
in blue fabricoid with a 24-carat gold seal and lettering 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 $3.75 per copy postpaid. 
Thirty days 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 and wards that have not already 
done so, make this an early project so that every organization may preserve 
a copy of the Centenary. 

[Review (cyutltne for II Lay 1956 JLtterature JLesson 

HPHE following outline presented at the October 1955 general Relief 
Society conference in the literature department is published here- 
with, relating to the review lesson of the current course on English litera- 
ture. It is felt that this outline may be of interest and help to the sisters 
for reference and use in the May 1956 literature lesson. 

Old English Period 449-1066 

Writers History 

? Beowulf 750 a.d. Roman Invasion 55 b.c. - 410 a.d. 

Bede 673-735 Angles and Saxons 428 a.d. 

Christianity established 597 a.d. 

Danes 850-897 a.d. 

Middle English (Medieval) Period 1066-1485 

Chaucer 1340-1400 Norman Invasion 1066 

(Canterbury Tales) (William the Conqueror) 

Sir Thomas Malory ( Feudalism 

(Morte Darthur) 1469 Great Influences < Chivalry 

( Religion 

The Renaissance Period 1485-1625 
(From accession of Tudors to the death of James I) 

Shakespeare 1564-1616 Influences 

Bacon 1561-1626 1. Religious freedom 

English Bible (King James) 1611 2. Literacy 

3. Naval supremacy 

4. World trade 

5. Flowering of English spirit 



The Puritan Interlude 1625-1660 
(From death of James I to restoration of Charles II) 

Milton 1608-1674 

Bunyan 1628-1688 
























The Brontes 





Motivating Ideals 

1 . Right 

2. Truth 

3. Godliness 

The Neo-Classical Period 1660-1784 


The Romantic Period 1760-1832 


Wordsworth Individuality 

Coleridge Freedom 

Scott Beauty 

Byron Love 

Shelley Nature 

The Victorian Period 1832-1880 

The Rossettis Influences 

Arnold Nationalism 

Humorists: Imperialism 

Lewis Carrol Manufacturing 

Calverley Commerce 

Lear Scientific programs 

The Break With Victorianism 1880-1914 

Housman Fading traditions 

Henley New patterns 


1 lew (bertal Crieart s Ujounty to ujegtn in (/u 


Anew serial "Heart's Bounty" by Deone R. Sutherland will begin in the June issue 
of The Relief Society Magazine. The story is a pioneer romance in which Annie 
Griffith finds her life's work and learns that the way of duty and the path of happiness 
are the same road. 

Mrs. Sutherland is well known to readers of the Magazine for her lovely short 
stories and her serials: "Dear Conquest" and "Green Willows." She presents her 
characters with warmth and understanding and vividly portrays a realistic background. 
Much enjoyment will be found in following the gleaming threads as Annie Griffith 
weaves them into her life pattern in "Heart's Bounty." 

LKecipes from the (^anadtan II Ltssion 

Submitted by Leah H. Lewis 
Butter Tarts 

2 cups brown sugar 1 tbsp. milk 

3 or 4 eggs i tbsp. vanilla 

2 tbsp. melted butter currants 

Mix thoroughly. Make regular pie crust and put in tart pans or cupcake pans, 
sprinkle a few currants in bottom and pour over above mixture. Bake at 350 for 
30 minutes. 

Short Bread 

1 lb. butter 4 to 5 cups flour 

% cup sugar 

Cream sugar and butter thoroughly and add flour gradually until mixture cracks in 
hand. Roll out on flourboard and cut with cookie cutter. Bake at 250 very slowly 
until light brown, 30 to 40 minutes. 

A Quick Cake 

V3 cup soft butter Vi cup milk 

1 % cups flour A tsp. cinnamon 

1V3 cups brown sugar Vz tsp. grated nutmeg 

3 teaspoons baking powder 1 cup seedless raisins 

2 eggs 

Put the above ingredients in a bowl and beat all together for three minutes. Bake 
in a pan 35 to 40 minutes. If you follow directions, this makes a very satisfactory cake, 
but it will not be so if you add the ingredients separately. One-half pound of dates 
(cut in pieces) may be used in place of raisins. 

I lever in cJrtteness 

his W. Schow 

The robin sings again the same glad song; 
The rose repeats her miracle of bloom; 
The lily breathes upon the summer air 
Once more her incomparable perfume. 

The mountains of the moon, unworn away, 
Still form the same fair face which all admire; 
The blackbird wears forever on his wing 
His ancient blazing flash of crimson fire. 

And, confident of being understood, 
We come as we once came in childhood days; 
For in the spirit, Mother dear, we bring 
Our timeless words of gratitude and praise. 

Page 316 

Illary uLnn uLt^ae 1 1 Lortenson 1 1 lakes vveddtna 
K^akes of ^Intricate ^Jjestgn 

/VJ'ARY Ann Hyde Mortenson, eighty-three, of Ogden, Utah, specializes in making 
wedding cakes of intricate and exquisite design. She designs her own decorative 
patterns. Many of the wedding cakes are made with a fruit-cake base and are baked 
in four large layers in graduated sizes. The designs include scrolls, loops, ribbon bows, 
flowers, ferns, leaves, bells, and other decorative motifs. 

Cake making, however, is only one of Sister Mortenson's many talents. She is an 
expert quilter, and she joins the women at work meeting and never quits until the quilt 
is completed. She makes unique braided woven rugs, and her sunburst pattern rug is 
remarkably beautiful. Sister Mortenson also takes great pride in her flower garden and 
her hybrid roses are known throughout the valley. She sends bouquets and trays of 
food to the sick and homebound and gives them hope and encouragement. 

Sister Mortenson was born in Kaysville, Utah, and during her early married life, 
while serving as Relief Society president, she gleaned grain in the fields to help finance 
the organization. For many years she was a social science class leader, and she served 
as a visiting teacher for thirty-five years. The Relief Society Magazine has been in her 
home since the first issue. Sister Mortenson has three children, six grandchildren, and 
three great-grandchildren. 

Page 317 

cJhe [Perfect Q,ift 

Mabel Law Atkinson 

SPRING had come late to Eden 
Valley. Not a rose was bloom- 
ing; not one gave promise of 
unfolding for Mother's Day. 

"But I must have roses for 
Mother this year!" It was ten-year- 
old Tony who spoke, as he ex- 
amined bud after bud and found 
each one so tightly curled that he 
knew it would be useless to try to 
force any into blooming as he had 
done a year ago. 

A smile erased the anxious expres- 
sion on his face as he remembered 
his mother exclaiming delightedly, 
"Roses for my day! I was sure I 
would be disappointed this year, 
for no buds were opening this morn- 
ing. How ever did you do it, Tony? 
And my favorite roses too— Grus 
on Teplitz and Madam Butterfly!" 

A warm feeling enveloped Tony 
as he recalled telling his mother 
how two days before he had cut the 
buds just beginning to loosen, and 
had kept their stems in warm water 
until they had opened enough to 
show their beauty. How he loved 
to recall her next words, "Thank 
you, my dear. You are a good boy, 
Tony, and I love you very much." 
She had kissed him then and con- 
tinued, "Roses are the perfect gift 
for a mother on her day." 

He could still feel her arms about 
him now as he remembered her ill- 
ness a short time later, an illness 
which had lasted for months. He 
must give her the roses she loved 
this year; but how could he do so 
with Sunday but three days away? 

Again he carefully examined 
Page 318 

every bud, but it was an unreward- 
ing task. Tears threatened to fall, 
but he hastily wiped them away 
with his sleeve as he said thought- 
fully, "I must give her the perfect 


Tony left the rose garden and 
sat on the porch steps in the late 
afternoon sunshine to think his 
problem through. He decided not 
to ask his father for extra money to 
buy roses from the florist, knowing 
he had all he could do to pay the 
bills caused by his mother's illness. 
There were no lawns to cut, for the 
weather had been too cold for the 
grass to grow; nor were there yards 
to rake as that task had been ac- 
complished on clean-up day. What 
should he do? 

"It doesn't look as if any of our 
roses will be blooming for Mother 
this year, does it, Son?" It was his 
father who spoke. He had come 
upon Tony and, seeing the worried 
look in his eyes, had divined the 

Tony shook his head, but did not 
answer lest his tears overflow. 

"OERE'S a dollar, Son. I think 
perhaps it will buy three 
blooms. I'd give more if I could. 
We must not forget Mother on 
her day, especially this year." He 
was unaware he was repeating al- 
most the very words Tony had used. 

His tears brimming over now, 
Tony smiled in relief and gratitude 
and said, "Thanks, Dad! I'll pay it 
back out of my allowance." 

"No, Son, you see I want Mother 



to have the flowers she loves as 
much as you do. And, besides, 
you've earned it by your added 
thoughtfulness since she became 

Tony skipped to the gate. He 
hurried to the flower shop, for it 
would soon be closing time. 

The owner, who knew him well, 
asked kindly, ''What can I do for 
you, Tony boy?" 

"I'd like to get a dollar's worth 
of roses, red and white ones, if you 
have them/' 

"And what lovely lady's name 
shall I put on the card this year?" 

Very simply Tony answered, 
"Just write, To Mother from 
Tony.' " He paused a moment then 
continued, "And be sure and write, 
1 love you, Mother.' " 

"That I will, my boy! That I 
will!" he said huskily, then added, 
"would you like me to keep them 
here for you till morning so they 
will be nice and fresh? You can 
come as early as you like." 

Tony gave him the dollar as he 
answered, "Oh, yes, that will be 
the best way. I'll be here very early 
to get them." 

The next morning a half hour 
before sunrise, Tony arose and 
dressed quietly, tiptoed past his par- 
ent's room, went outside and, in 
his eagerness, ran almost all the way 
to the florist's. The kindly pro- 
prietor smiled to see the anticipa- 
tion in his eyes, and pointed to a 
lovely bouquet of roses in a con- 

tainer covered with silvery-green 

Tony gasped as he saw them. 
"Those are not mine, are they? My 
dollar would only buy about three, 
Dad said, and here are," he paused 
as he counted, "nine! five red and 
four white ones, with pale yellow 
and pink centers just like our Ma- 
dam Butterflies she loves. Are you 
sure these are mine?" 

"Yes, my boy. I want you to give 
them to your mother. I've seen the 
red and white ones in her garden 
so I thought she would like these. 
And Tony boy, if ever your roses 
don't bloom in time for Mother's 
Day, come to me and I will give 
you some to present to your moth- 
er." Before Tony could speak, he 
continued, "There will always be 
deliveries to make the day before 
Mother's Day, and you could help 
me to pay for your roses if you 
would feel better doing so. Just 
remember, my boy, and God bless 

Tony's eyes were shining as his 
lips spoke his gratitude. Taking 
his precious roses, he left the shop. 
When he came to the little white 
gate of his home, he did not stop, 
but walked on by, and went on and 
on to the outskirts of town. 

When he reached his destination 
and entered the gates, the silent 
beauty of the place made him feel 
a deep peace. Just as the rising sun 
flooded the earth with light, he 
placed his roses— the perfect gift- 
on his mother's grave. 

There Is Still Time 

Chapter 4 
Margery S. Stewart 

Synopsis: Elizabeth Anderson is dis- 
turbed by a strange dream in which she 
sees herself and her friends walking on 
crutches. She tells the dream to Brent, 
her husband, and explains to him that 
something is lacking in their lives. Brent, 
however, is so much interested in making 
money, that he does not want to under- 
stand Elizabeth's plea. Grandmother 
Anderson comes to live with the family, 
and, during her illness, Elizabeth and the 
children begin to appreciate the blessings 
of sacrifice and service. Elizabeth suc- 
ceeds in persuading the children to go 
with her to Sunday School and sacrament 
meeting, and she feels that, as a family, 
they are making progress, although she is 
heartsick at Brent's indifference. 

SOMETIMES her friends came 
with flowers and jelly and 
murmured polite phrases of 
regret, but Karen Jones, beautiful 
as a camellia, was frank in her dis- 

"How you stand it, is beyond 
me . . . ." She looked with wonder 
at the lines and hollows in Eliza- 
beth's face. "Honestly, you'll look 
like your own mother in another 
month." She touched her own 
glowing, pearl perfection with a 
long, graceful sweep of painted 
nails. "Do you know it took me 
two solid hours this morning of 
massage and eye pads to get rid of 
the Jamison's party. Honestly, you 
should have seen my eyes." 

Elizabeth looked gently at the 
extraordinary beauty of Karen's 
blue-green eyes, her brilliant red 
hair. "I can't imagine you with a 
flaw, Karen, I really can't. You're 
my despair, really. When I get all 
dressed up for a party, I think of 

Page 320 

you and just wilt. I suppose most 
of your other friends do, too." 

Karen smoothed her wide, yellow 
skirts. "Beauty is its own excuse 
for being." She laughed, "Wish I 
could remember who wrote it, 
someone is always quoting it to me, 
and they never know either. But, 
frankly, Elizabeth, you've got to 
stop this Florence Nightingale busi- 
ness and come out in the sun 

Elizabeth passed fruit juice and 
cake. "I will. She's much, much 
better." She smiled. "Someone 
told me they were going to ask you 
to help out on the Red Cross drive. 
Did Mary tell you?" 

Karen shook her head. "No, and 
she can save her breath. I've found 
the most marvelous new reducing 
salon, and they are going to keep 
me tied, simply tied there for three 
months. Do you know, Elizabeth, 
I've gained three inches around my 

Elizabeth watched the dismay 
smooth away on Karen's forehead. 
It must be fun to walk into a place 
looking like her and have every head 
turn. I had a dream about her 
once ... let me see ... . Oh, yes, 
that awful one about the crutches. 

". . . . You haven't heard a word 
I've said. I've been telling you about 
the luncheon Mary is having. She 
said she'd call you. Do come, dar- 
ling. It will do you so much good." 
She was gone in a flutter of skirts 
and a fragrance lingering and lav- 



From overhead came the im- 
patient thumping of the cane by 
Grandma Anderson's bed. Eliza- 
beth ran to answer it. 

But, at last, to everyone's delight, 
Grandma Anderson was permitted 
to be up and around. She fluttered 
about the house like a winged bird, 
chirping constantly. "Did you 
know, Elizabeth, that Lin only 
worked three hours on the garden 
yesterday. You pay him for five." 

"I told him he could leave early. 
He was expecting a brother from 

"Hmph. A long way for very 
little. They'd both be much bet- 
ter off saving their money. Did 
you know Matilda threw out that 
sack of crusts from your party? She 
never did put it into a bread pud- 
ding like I told her." 

Elizabeth put down her mending 
and rubbed her forehead. Her head 
ached. Her mind ached from 
scrabbling a thousand times a day 
for excuses, reasons, blandishments. 

"Grandma, why don't you make 
Donna a dress? You're such a good 

"Dress! Land sakes alive! That 
young one has more dresses than 
she'll ever wear out." 

"Why don't you make a quilt, 
then? One of your specials." 

Grandma Anderson considered. 
"Well, I might, not that anyone 
around here would appreciate it." 

pLIZABETH rose and fled. She 
took Elaine's car and drove 
aimlessly toward town. It's my 
nerves, they really took a beating in 
that long illness. It's the let down 
of a big job done and three women 
trying to do the work of one. Ma- 
tilda runs that house with one hand 

tied behind her, that leaves Grand- 
ma Anderson and me to haggle 
about the little tasks and to pick 
on everything the youngsters do. 
She took a deep breath. Now 
somebody very wise would make 
this predicament profitable for 
everyone. But I'm not very clever. 
I only know I'm happiest when I'm 
doing a big job . . . like nursing 
Grandma Anderson, or the twins 
when they had measles, or having a 
dinner for twenty. 

She stopped at the Farmer's 
Market, sat in the sun and ate 
a lemon cream tart. It was de- 
licious. She wandered about the 
booths, bought a breadboard from 
Sweden and sandals from Mexico. 
Still reluctant to turn homeward 
she found a movie. The usher 
waved her to a place beside a girl 
in her early twenties. 

A pretty blonde girl, but sleepy. 
Elizabeth found herself stealing 
worried glances at her neighbor. 

Suddenly the girl's head jerked 
up. She opened her eyes. She 
looked at Elizabeth and smiled in 

"We've been so short of help at 
the hospital that I've been working 
through for a week. I'm bushed. 
But I did want to see this movie." 

"Are you a nurse?" 

The girl nodded. "Wish I were 
five of them. We could use them 
all on my division." 

"Why the shortage?" 

The girl shrugged. "New hos- 
pitals every week or so, it seems, 
more sick people than I've ever seen 
before, and fewer people to want 
to do the grubby things that nurs- 
ing demands." She wriggled into 
her jacket, still yawning. "I guess 



I should try to stay and see it 
through again, but I just can't make 

Elizabeth ached for her. She 
knew from experience that utter 
fatigue of body and mind and the 
stubborn will that persisted in driv- 
ing the aching bones to newer tasks. 

She moved her knees to let the 
girl by, but the movie had lost its 
charm. She felt the drama on the 
screen was vapid in comparison to 
the real life drama of the weary girl 
making her way toward the exit. 

HTHEY had not even missed her. 
Brent had been called out of 
town, Elaine had gone to a dinner 
dance the Mutual was giving, and 
Grandma had taken the twins and 
Donna to Primary and then down 
the corner to get some ice cream. 

Matilda served a warmed-over 
dinner. "It just did you a world of 
good to get out of here, Mrs. And- 
erson, you just ought to do it 

Elizabeth pushed aside her din- 
ner and leaned her face in her 
palms. She was tired to the bone. 

Matilda grumbled as she took 
away the plate. "Appetite like a 
bird. Why don't you go out and 
play, Mrs. Anderson, play golf 
again, or go to some of those parties 
they're always invitin' you to?" 

Grandma Anderson came home 
with three flushed and excited chil- 
dren. Johnny ran ahead. "Did 
you know that Grandma played 
with a real live buffalo calf when 
she was little?" 

Jennie shrieked louder. "She saw 
a mountain lion once when they 
were camping." 

Elizabeth looked at Grandma 

Anderson. She was radiant, flushed 
with responsibility and pride. "Land 
sakes alive. These poor little chil- 
dren haven't been to an ice-cream 
parlor for years." 

"We have ice cream all the time 
at home." 

"Fiddle-dee-dee! Cold stuff in a 

Jennie jumped up and down. 
"Grandma says she would take us 
to Griffith Park, if you'd let us . . . 
on the bus." She made it sound 
like six golden horses all aglitter in 
the sun. 

Elizabeth blinked. Buses and ice 
cream parlors ... all the beloved 
things of her childhood were just 
as much of a treat to her spoiled 
trio, and Grandma Anderson 
seemed to thrive under the admira- 
tion of her grandchildren. She needs 
a job to do, the same as I do, Eliza- 
beth realized. Now how are we go- 
ing to bring this all about? 

Elizabeth did try golf, but the 
game was not enough to absorb her 
energies. She tried other things, 
charity drives, luncheons. 

Karen Jones gave the most fab- 
ulous luncheons. Elizabeth often 
felt that she was walking into a 
dream, walking into Karen's living 
room with its white rugs and drap- 
eries, its apricot and green couches 
and chairs, the exquisite Chinese 
tapestry she had above the beautiful 

Today, Karen was wearing pea- 
cock blue. It intensified the red 
of her hair and the blue of her eyes. 
The luncheon was mainly fruit. 
Karen's newest craze was diet, and 
she went on interminably relaying 
the latest taboos from the new doc- 
tor she had found. 



Elizabeth listened idly, enjoying 
the food, the surroundings, and the 
beauty of the women around her, 
feeling happy in her own new 
brown suit of raw silk and the 
absurd little brown velvet hat. It 
was fun to watch the other women 
wait like birds upon a branch for a 
pause in Karen's steady flow of 

She stopped for breath and {Cath- 
erine James and Delores Moser both 
started in talking. Neither would 
surrender, so the guests good natur- 
edly listened to both and then con- 
centrated on the most interesting. 

"PvELORES was describing the hi- 
larious adventures of herself and 
her husband in Mexico over the 
week-end. ". . . On our way back 
we stumbled over Maria." 

"Not Maria Lindsey?" She had 
everyone's attention. 

'The same," said Delores tri- 
umphantly. "And you'll never 
guess where we found her or what 
she was doing." 


"Tell us. Don't be like that." 

Elizabeth felt her own interest 
quickening. Maria had been most 
friendly at one time, coming to call, 
inviting Elizabeth and Brent over 
for dinner when they had first come 
to the neighborhood. Elizabeth re- 
membered how impressed she had 
been with the Lindsey's beautiful 
patio and pool. Then, suddenly, 
the Lindsey's had moved away . . . 
there had been no further word. 

"She's a waitress! At Don Caro's! 
Can you imagine!" 

They stared at Delores. "Not 

"A hostess, rather," Delores hur- 
riedly modified the statement. "But 

imagine our embarrassment . . . our 
absolute chagrin to meet her like 
that. Made me feel horrible. 
Maria's face went as white as this 
cloth when she saw us. Looked 
absolutely sick. Do you know that 
Don lost every penny . . . simply 
every cent?" 

Karen pushed back her long, 
beautiful hair. "I don't suppose 
there's a chance they'll ever make 
it again . . . get back up here with 

Delores shook her head firmly. 
"Not a chance. They did give such 
lovely parties, too. Right to the 
end. Well, that's the way it goes 
.... On the way home I bought 
the most beautiful vases . . . an- 
tiques and priceless . . . ." 

Elizabeth clenched her fists under 
the table. Was that all there was, 
then, to friendship? Once they 
had all eaten at Maria's table and 
rested in her chairs, dived in her 
pool. Now she was pushed out of 
their minds by a pair of antique 
vases. It seemed to Elizabeth as 
if the floor shifted beneath her, the 
same helpless feeling she had 
known once in a dream. Oh, yes, 
that dream about the big party and 
the crutches that crumbled under 

After the luncheon was over she 
drove aimlessly about, not wanting 
to go home until she was calm 
again. She still had the agonizing 
sensation of unsure earth beneath 
her. She passed a hospital and 
looked idly at its gray forbidding 
walls, remembering the little nurse 
in the movie and the call for help 
in that morning's paper for nurses 
and aides. 

Suddenly, on impulse, she parked 



the car. She went up the wide path 
to the stone steps. "Idiot!" she 
said to herself, but her feet went 
resolutely, almost without her vo- 
lition up the stairs and down the 
long halls to the small sign that 
read, "Nurses' Office." 

She was small, gray, and pleasant, 
the woman at the desk. She looked 
impersonally and yet inquiringly at 
Elizabeth's beautiful clothes. 

"I wonder . . . could you use an 
aide . . . perhaps in the children's 

The woman looked at Elizabeth's 
browii leather bag, at her shoes 
that matched exactly, and the 
brown velvet hat. "You've had ex- 

Elizabeth tried to sound very 
brisk. "My own children . . . and 
for two months I nursed my moth- 
er-in-law. Doctor Eberhardt told 
me I did a wonderful job . . . ." She 
stopped, blushed. "I only said that 
to show I had had some experience. 
I understood you are quite short- 
handed, I thought . . . until it be- 
came easier to get help." 

The woman smiled. "Could you 
come tomorrow?" 

Elizabeth swallowed, nodded. 

"At seven? It's seven to three 
you know. You'll be in surgery. 
Would you mind that?" 

"No . . . I'm sure I wouldn't." 

The woman looked again at Eliz- 
abeth's slim heels. "Better wear 
low, white shoes. There's a lot of 
walking in this job." She handed 
some papers across her desk. "If 
you'll just fill these out." 

"TV INNER that evening was a joy- 
ous affair. Jennie simply 
couldn't believe that her mother 
had gone out as simply as to a 

corner drugstore and came away 
with a job. "But you're so old . . . 
I mean ... I thought . . . ." 

"I am just brushing forty," Eliz- 
abeth said haughtily, but with a 
smile within. "And I wish you 
would stop reminding me of it, as 
if age were something I could 
escape, if I were a little more clev- 

"All those heavenly medics," 
sighed Elaine. "So young, so utter- 
ly handsome." 

"I'll try not to be rushed off my 
feet," murmured Elizabeth. 


Brent looked up. "I don't like 
it," he said abruptly, "I don't like 
it at all." 

"But it's such a simple little job, 
darling, and not for long, just until 
there's not such a shortage of help." 

Grandma Anderson waved her 
fork at him. "You let her go. With 
me here to look after the children, 
there's not a thing in the world to 
worry about." 

"And I'll be home before they 
are," Elizabeth interpolated quick- 
ly, "no one will ever know the dif- 

Brent laughed. "Very well, if 
you insist. I give you just two 
weeks and you'll quit of your own 

Elizabeth sighed with relief. 
There were no more hurdles as far 
as she could see. "I'm heading for 
bed, five in the morning will come 
mighty soon." 

Elizabeth had dreamed all night 
of bending over tossing patients, 
tenderly bathing foreheads, and 
smoothing brows. The reality was 
abrupt and brutal. She was sent 
to the fifth floor with a typewritten 



note clutched in her tense hand. 

The elevator was automatic. It 
closed its doors upon her and left 
her alone in a long gray hall. Eliza- 
beth looked about her. Directly 
opposite was an operating room 
where nurses were changing sheets 
on an operating table. They wore 
masks and their hair was covered by 
caps. Everyone seemed in an or- 
dered hurry. 

One of the nurses, hastening 
down the hall, stopped. "You must 
be Mrs. Anderson?" 

Elizabeth nodded, held out the 
typewritten note. 

The nurse read it quickly. She 
smiled briefly. "Come with me, 

She led Elizabeth to a room 
marked "Nurses Only." It was a 
small room with a cot and a few 
deep chairs and a table on which re- 
posed stacks of uniforms. The 
nurse burrowed through them, 
stopped to give Elizabeth a meas- 
uring glance. 

"I wear fourteen." 

"Thirty-four. Here we are." She 
tossed the uniform to Elizabeth. 
"We'll have to hurry. We're real- 
ly short-handed today." 

HPHE uniform had a deep V-neck- 
line and string that pulled tight 
to form a waistline of sorts. Eliza- 
beth looked down at herself rue- 
fully. "I look like a sack." 

The nurse laughed, "It's not by 
Dior, nor is this cap by Dache." 

It wasn't. It fitted coldly around 
Elizabeth's face, hiding every vest- 
ige of hair. 

The nurse nodded approval. 
"Now come back upstairs, and we'll 
find you a mask. You must re- 

member to pull it up when you 
bring the patient into the operat- 
ing room." Elizabeth nodded. 

She pushed a handkerchief into 
her pocket and hurried along after 
the nurse, who led her back up- 
stairs. She paused before a huge 
blackboard. The blackboard was a 
maze of initials, names, and medical 
terms and hours. "7 : 3°> J. C. Met- 
calfe, 412," Elizabeth read, "D.C." 
And below it, "8:00 R.D. Malouf, 
Biopsy left breast, 355." 

The nurse handed Elizabeth a 
paper. It duplicated the names and 
information on the board. Twenty- 
three names Elizabeth counted. She 
looked up inquiringly. "Twenty- 
three operations?" 

The nurse nodded. "Your job is 
to get them up to us. You can start 
with J. C. Metcalfe, Room 412, 
which is on the fourth floor. Tell 
the nurse at the desk which patient 
you want. Be sure to read the tag 
on the patient's wrist, compare it 
with the name on your paper. We 
can't operate on the same patient 
twice in one day. Too expensive." 

Elizabeth smiled and looked up 
quickly, but the laughter had 
already fled from the nurse's eyes. 

"Bring the patient to Small Ma- 
jor." She indicated the four oper- 
ating rooms that opened from the 
circular hall. She counted them 
for Elizabeth, naming each one. 
"First minor to your left, second 
minor next to it, first major on 
your right, second major next to 
it, and third major right across from 
the elevator." 

The cart moved at the touch of 
Elizabeth's finger. She placed the 
folded sheet on it, and moved to- 

(Continued on page 343) 

Magazine Subscriptions for 1955 

Counselor Marianne C. Sharp 

HTHE general board expresses great 
appreciation to all Relief 
Society Magazine representatives 
throughout the Church who, rea- 
lizing the importance of their work, 
have placed during the past year, 
138,096 Relief Society Magazines 
in the homes. The Magazine is 
mailed to fifty countries outside 
the United States, which is par- 
ticularly significant at this time 
when so many Latter-day Saint citi- 
zens of the United States are living, 
for one reason or another, in foreign 
countries. Truly, The Relief So- 
ciety Magazine is found in homes 
circling the globe. 

The callings of stake and ward 
Magazine representatives are of 
great importance for the carrying 
on of Relief Society. Ward Maga- 
zine representatives visit the homes 
in their wards, contacting the sisters 
in a spirit of unselfish helpfulness. 
Stake Magazine representatives 
plan, encourage, advise, and assist 
ward Magazine representatives to 
attain their goals. Both callings are 
important in placing in individual 
Relief Society members' hands and 
in those of the officers, knowledge 
of the historical happenings of Re- 
lief Society, instructions to officers, 
the lesson work, accounts of Relief 
Society happenings throughout the 
world, inspirational articles from 
Church leaders, as well as reading 
material of general interest to Lat- 
ter-day Saint women. For this rea- 
son all Relief Society organizations 

are asked to take a subscription in 
the name of the society so that the 
issues may be bound at the end of 
each year and preserved in the Re- 
lief Society library. 

The honor roll for 1955 reveals 
many interesting features. For the 
ninth year the South Los Angeles 
Stake leads the Church in per cent 
of subscriptions in relation to the 
number of Relief Society members, 
with a percentage of 262. It also 
has the largest number of subscrip- 
tions 2,857. There are 204 stakes 
on the honor roll as compared with 
200 last year. There are thirty- 
three stakes in which every ward 
within the stake achieved 100 per 
cent or over, whereas there were 
twenty-four in 1954. There are 
1,739 wards and branches in stakes 
on the honor roll, an increase of 
102. Three missions achieved over 
100 per cent and fourteen missions 
are on the honor roll. The mis- 
sion branches totaled 486 on the 
honor roll. 

The overall increase in the num- 
ber of Relief Society subscriptions 
in 1955, is 8,218: 138,096 in 1955 
and 129,878 in 1954. 

The faithful performance of any 
calling brings joy to a Relief So- 
ciety member and the general board 
congratulates all stake and ward 
Magazine representatives who so 
faithfully and satisfactorily per- 
formed their duties and responsi- 
bilities in 1955. 

Page 326 


uionors for cHignest [Ratings 

South Los Angeles (California) 262% 
Magazine Representative — Edna C. Stoutsenberger 

South Gate Ward, South Los Angeles Stake (California) 372% 
Magazine Representative — Amelia Dellenbach 

San Manuel Branch, Southern Arizona Stake (Arizona) 314% 
Magazine Representative — Jennie Brown 


Gulf States — 104% 

Mission Relief Society President — Phyllis D. Smith 

Mission District 

West Texas District, Gulf States Mission — 138% 
Magazine Representative — LaPriel D. White 

Mission Branch 

Douglas Branch — 2 75% 
Wyoming District, West Central States Mission 
Magazine Representative — Hazel I. Johnson 

Ten Highest Percentages in Stakes 

South Los Angeles 262... .Edna C. Stoutsenberger 

Glendale 152.... Elsie Weber 

Nyssa i45....Vonda Huntington 

Provo 142.... Flora Buggert 

San Joaquin i4i....Retta J. Watkins 

Rexburg 137.... Martha J. Erickson 

Oquirrh 128... Enid O. Heise 

Santa Monica i28....Charlene W. Bell 

Long Beach 127.... Ethel Spongberg 

Shelley 12 5.... Merle Young 

Missions Achieving Ten Highest Percentages 

Gulf States 104.... Phyllis D. Smith 

Central States 102. ...May E. J. Dyer 

Western States 101. ...Mildred P. Elggren 

Northern California 99.... Amelia P. Gardner 

West Central States 98....Marteal W. Hendricks 

California 98.... LaPriel S. Bunker 

Canadian 94.... Leah H. Lewis 

Northwestern States 89-...Mavil A. McMurrin 

North Central States 88.... Dora H. England 

Western Canadian 83.... Elizabeth H. Zimmerman 

Ten Stakes With Highest Number of Subscriptions 

No. No. 
Subscriptions Subscriptions 

South Los Angeles 2857 Ensign 922 

San Fernando 1240 Big Horn 899 

Glendale 1196 East Los Angeles 898 

Pasadena 1078 Sevier 877 

Palmyra 1065/2 Burley 868 



Ten Missions With Highest Number of Subscriptions 

West Central States 
Central States 
Western States 
Southern States 






Eastern States 
Northwestern States 
Northern States 
Gulf States 
Western Canadian 





Stakes in Which All the Wards Achieved 100% or Over 

Bonneville Ruth Peterson 

Burley Leona Budge 

East Long Beach ....Margaret Bryan 
East Los Angeles ....Zelma Beck 

East Sharon Edna M. Hansen 

Ensign Mabel E. Wood 

Glendale Elsie Weber 

Granite Clara M. Love 

Grant Evelyn L. Larsen 

Inglewood Janet C. Medina 

Long Beach Ethel Spongberg 

North Davis Helen Willey Barber 

North Pocatello Tura Hadley 

Nyssa Vonda Huntington 

Orange County Fay L. Peterson 

Pasadena Nell Ellsworth 

Pocatello Elva W. Nielson 

Provo Flora Buggert 

Redondo Margaret M. Smith 

Rexburg Martha J. Erickson 

Sacramento Martha V. Gattiker 

St. Joseph Nira P. Lee 

San Fernando Helen Yaple 

San Joaquin Retta J. Watkins 

Santa Monica Charlene W. Bell 

Shelley Merle Young 

South Box Elder ....Naomi P. Larkin 
South Idaho Falls.... Renee J. Nielsen 
South Los Angeles.... Edna C. Stoutsen- 


Tacoma Afton B. Dickson 

West Pocatello lone G. Slayden 

West Pocatello Cleo L. Thatcher 

Wilford Dorothy R. Larson 

llltsston [Percentages on uionor LKoil 

Gulf States 
Central States 
Western States 
Northern California 



West Central States 98 

California 98 

Canadian 94 

Northwestern 89 

North Central States 88 

Western Canadian 
Northern States 
Eastern States 
Southern States 
New England 

Stakes by [Percentages 

South Los Angeles 




San Joaquin 



Santa Monica 

Long Beach 



Orange County 

East Long Beach 


South Idaho Falls 



*5 2 





12 5 







San Fernando 

Idaho Falls 


North Davis 

North Sacramento 



Los Angeles 




East Los Angeles 



North Jordan 

St. Joseph 


l 7 




New York 

West Utah 

North Idaho Falls 

South Box Elder 

North Pocatello 

Columbia River 



Las Vegas 




East Sharon 


West Pocatello 


South Ogden 







San Juan 




St. Johns 

North Box Elder 

Monument Park 

Bear River 




South Salt Lake 



Mt. Graham 

Big Horn 

Mill Creek 

San Francisco 



West Boise 





Zion Park 









Mt. Rubidoux 

Sugar House 




East Mesa 


San Bernardino 


New Orleans 

San Jose 



North Sevier 

East Mill Creek 

North Rexburg 

Mt. Jordan 




American Falls 

South Bear River 
















St. George 

Southern Arizona 



San Diego 

North Tooele 



East Phoenix 





Ben Lomond 


Twin Falls 

North Carbon 

Mt. Logan 


South Summit 

South Blackfoot 

Star Valley 

Rose Park 



East Rigby 




West Jordan 





Salmon River 


East Provo 



North Weber 

South Davis 



Lake View 

Bear Lake 


Moon Lake 

East Jordan 

El Paso 

East Cache 





Grand Coulee 








9 2 

9 1 

9 1 





























North Sanpete 


Santa Rosa 









Raft River 

Salt Lake 





Santa Barbara 

San Luis 


Lorin Farr 



East Ogden 










Farr West 





Mt. Ogden 



Palo Alto 



Temple View 

South Sevier 





Lost River 


South Carolina 

South Sanpete 


















7 2 

7 1 









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Margaret C. Pickering, Genera] 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. 


Photograph submitted by Reha O. Calling 


Front row, seated, left to right: Leola Hatch, President, Monument Park Eighth 
Ward Relief Society; Reba O. Carting, President, Monument Park Stake Relief Society; 
Belle S. Spafford, General President of Relief Society; Gladys Iledgepeth, President, 
Monument Park First Ward Relief Society; Myrtle Home, President, Monument Park 
Second Ward Relief Society. 

Back row, standing, left to right: Dorcus Seymore, President, Monument Park 
Seventh Ward Relief Society; Emma Longson, President, Monument Park Fifth Ward; 
Helen Lach, Counselor, Monument Park Ninth Ward; Alice Christiansen, President, 
Monument Park Fourth Ward; Hazel Jorgensen, President, Monument Park Third 
Ward; Echo Bean, President, Monument Park Sixth Ward. 

Page 334 



President Reba O. Carling reports: "The week of our 114th anniversary has been 
the most outstanding and important week in the history of the Monument Park Stake 
Relief Society. Eacli ward reviewed the history of our organization in dramatization, 
music, and inspirational talks. Former general president of Relief Society, Amy Brown 
Lyman, gave intimate glances into the lives of our Nauvoo Relief Society women. Other 
features were added, and, in all, there was a mixture of laughter, smiles, and tears, as 
our appreciation for Relief Society was expressed. 

"The week's activity was climaxed by a stake social honoring Relief Society, its 
former presidents, and especially our present President Belle S. Spafford. Emphasis 
was given on the responsibility of our present presidency in planning and building our 
new Relief Society home, as it stands in the shadow of the temple, a monument to the 
women of the Church. Robin Bennion sang 'How Lovely Are Thy Dwellings,' before 
the delightful talk by Velma N. Simonsen, Second Counselor in the General Presidency 
of Relief Society. Spicing her remarks with bits of humor, Sister Simonsen presented 
the background of the building and the sacrifices made by the sisters who have looked 
forward to the time when Relief Society would have a home of its own. 

"With organ background music, each ward president and the stake president pre- 
sented Sister Spafford with a red rose as each wished her a happy anniversary. To cli- 
max this, a surprise was in store — concealed in an envelope and attached to 
each rose was a birthday greeting and a check for $50, amounting, in all, to $500 for 
the new building. 

"Seventy Singing Mothers, under the direction of Phylis Hansen, and accompanied 
by Bernice Engman, sang 'Bless This House' and 'King of Glory.' 

"President Carling stated that the sisters did not want to spend the money un- 
wisely and get a duplicate of some other gift, or something that might not be in keep- 
ing with the decorating. She asked that the money be used as seemed most fitting to 
beautify the building. 

"President Spafford expressed her love for the sisters and her appreciation for the 
money, which would be a help in decorating the building." 

Photograph submitted by Amanda B. Hancock 


Standing in the front row, eleventh from the left, Amanda B. Hancock, President, 
North Weber Stake Relief Society; at Sister Hancock's right: First Counselor Cecile 
Barnes and Second Counselor Gladys P. Wayment. At Sister Hancock's left: Drucilla 
Lee, chorister; Voletta B. Blanch, organist; Dora Hull, Secretary. 

Elizabeth S. Stewart, who played the accompaniment on the organ, was absent 
when the picture was taken. 

An original and beautiful arrangement of patriotic songs was conducted by Voletta 
Blanch; other numbers were conducted by Drucilla Lee. Each of the nine wards of 
the stake was represented. One hundred nine Singing Mothers participated. 



, .,;,.p 

■ .:■ • ' • • ' '' ■ : 

Photograph submitted by Myrle B. Johansen 



Front row, seated, left to right: Laura Brown; Hetty Anderson; Margaret Grange; 
Rose Grange; Gertrude Gordon; Flora Manchester; Zelma Brady. 

Second row, standing, left to right: Ivy Brasher; Hannah Johnson; Jennie Wake- 
field; Mabel Guymon; May Klecker; Morell Nelson, former ward president; Opal Ander- 
son, former ward president; Mary Green. 

Third row, standing, left to right: Flora Jensen; Mary Brown; Ida Colby; Margaret 
Young; Maud Anderson; Addie Richards; Rachel Staker; Catherine Gordon. 

Fourth row, standing, left to right: Delia Brasher; Mildred Johnson; Revella Sit- 
terud; Lucille Kinder; Hilda Wilson; Mabel Young. 

Back row, standing, left to right: June Green; Edith Collard; Ruth O. Brasher; 
Libby Gordon; Marie Cowley; Merle Grange; lone Nielson, President; Rena Grange. 

Myrle B. Johansen is president of Emery Stake Relief Society. 

Photograph submitted by LaPrele Mertz 


Front row, seated left to right: Fern Marcroft; Lois Patterson; Arva Eggleston; 
Ruby Choate; Colleen Henshall; Vonda Cottle; Virginia Leenders. 



Second row, left to right: Leola Crenshaw; Helen Burt; Buelah Wolff enstein; Carol 
Daniels; President Joseph Fielding Smith of the Council of the Twelve; Elder J. Leon- 
ard Love of the Church Welfare Committee; Elder Max A. Bryan, President, Long 
Beach Stake; Florence Halford; Ellen Nicholson; Doris Bascom; Evelyn Brown. 

Third row, left to right: Shirley Howarth; Geraldine Hobbs; Frances Fults; Mar- 
jorie Hetrick, organist; Verda Mecham; Aleth Nix; Yvonne Holtsclaw; Jackie Ridley. 

Fourth row, left to right: Florence Evans; May Robins; Zola Malone; Elizabeth 
Smith; Mabel Rice; Janet Tincher, chorister; Geraldine Warner; Alice Robinson; Susie 
Ellsmore; Rosalie Leavitt. 

Fifth row, left to right: Cleone Millett; Ruth Snowball; Ila Wheatfield; Macel 
Handy; Venna Black; Mary Chase, assistant organist; Dorothy Cartwright; Helen Sims; 
Lillian Bergstrom; Martha Huntley; LaPrele Mertz, President, Long Beach Stake Relief 
Society; Margaret Bryan. 

Photograph submitted by Florence S. Jacobsen 


Left to right: Betty Page; Beverly Crawford, First Counselor; Shirley Grange, Sec- 
retary; DeEtta Henderson, President. 

Florence S. Jacobsen, President, Eastern States Mission Relief Society, reports: 
"Dover Branch Relief Society was organized October 3, 1954, w ^ n three members. A 
new member has been added recently. What a joy this group is. They begin 
meeting promptly at 7:30, conduct the Relief Society lessons, and close promptly at 
9:00 o'clock. They have a Singing Mothers chorus, carry out the Sunday evening serv- 
ices as outlined by the Relief Society, in March and November, sending out handmade 
programs and invitations, have one hundred per cent subscriptions to the Magazine, 
have a full program of bazaars and money-making projects, and carry on visiting teach- 
ing, having divided the branch into two districts. Their happiness and enthusiasm are 
like a tonic." 



Photograph submitted by Mary G. Shirley 



Front row, seated, left to right: Edith Hansen; Grace Smith, Second Counselor; 
Olive Webster; Zell Groves; Nell Porter; Dorothy Winter; Myrtle Richman, Secretary; 
Sara Scow; Laura Zollinger. 

Second row, standing, left to right: Mable Reno; Ella Potter; May Covington; 
Gladys Huskinson; Myrtle Garner, President, Rexburg First Ward Relief Society; 
Arvella Wheelwright; Ruby Webster; Myrle Parkinson; Hazel Brown; Sophia Saurey. 

Back row, standing, left to right: Ada Sharp; Vieon Cole; Ruth Moedl; Letha Cov- 
ington, First Counselor; Laura Jenson; Mabel Chantrill; Nellie Roylance; Tacy Winter. 

Myrtle Garner is president of Rexburg First Ward Relief Society and Mabel 
Chantrill is visiting teacher supervisor. 

Mary G. Shirley is president of North Rexburg Stake Relief Society. 

Photograph submitted by Emeline W. Marley 


Front row, seated, left to right: Erma Cherry; Iva Lou Jensen; Ruth Jones; Helen 
Jensen; Hazel Nielsen; Venna Criddle; Lavessa Carson; Ona Whitaker, director, 


Second row, left to right: Cheryl Moses; Lola Savage; Mar jean Criddle; Delores 
Bloxham; Carol Davis; Oveda Alder; Kathleen Criddle; Nola Fallows. 

Back row, left to right: Laurine Hancock; Doreen Curtis; Lila Barnes, Secretary, 
Downey Ward Relief Society; Joy Bybee; Colleen Baker; Marlyn Barnes; Myrna Larson; 
Flora Gambles; Jackie Salvesen; Betty Glad, accompanist. 

Fern Hartvigsen, President, Downey Ward Relief Society, reports: "This group of 
Singing Mothers was organized shortly after the Downey Ward was divided three years 
ago and have held regular practices and have been of much service to the ward and to 
Relief Society. Sister Whitaker, the director, has endeavored to keep this group bal- 
anced and has also used the singing as an incentive to bring the women out to sacra- 
ment meetings and to Relief Society, and, in some cases, to get them interested in 
Church activities again." 

Sister Hartvigsen 's counselors are Orissa Salvesen and Nellie Christensen. 

Emeline W. Marley is president of Portneuf Stake Relief Society. 

Jt LKug tn LOutch iu utter 1 1 Lola ^JJesign 

Elizabeth Williamson 

ir PHIS design has been adapted from an old butter mold for a hooked rug design. It 
is very effective in Colonial, Early American, or Pennsylvania Dutch style homes. 
The colors chosen should harmonize with the walls and furniture. 

The use of three colors is suggested, with the background the darkest, or the use 
of one color with three different tones is also very effective, for instance, navy blue 
background, medium blue shadings, and very light blue highlights. 

Sacred / 1 1 it sic ^sror 
^Jne (^nurcn f^lanidt 

Ashfords Piano Voluntaries — 

Vols. 1 and 2 ea. $1.25 

Celestial Echoes 1.00 

Chapel Echoes 85 

Chapel Musings 85 

Chappell's Sacred Song 

Favorites 1.25 

Concert Transcriptions of 

Favorite Hymns 1.00 

Church Pianist— Vols. 1, 2, 3..ea. 1.25 
Famous Sacred Songs 1.25 

More Concert Transcriptions of 

Favorite Hymns 1.00 

Peery's Piano Voluntaries 1.25 

Piano Voluntaries 1.00 

Sabbath Day Music 1.25 

Sacred Music For Piano Solo 1.50 

Sacred Piano Solos 1.00 

Sacred Melodies With 

Variations 1.25 

Sacred Piano Transcriptions 1.00 

Sunday Piano Music (Boston) 1.25 

Sunday Piano Music (Presser) 1.00 

Tranquil Hours 1.50 

Music Sent on Approval 

Use this advertisement as your order blank 


15 E. 1st South 

Salt Lake City 11, Utah 

Please send the music indicated above. 

□ On Approval □ Charge 

Q Money Enclosed 



City & State 

Daijnes Music 

HIIHII1T .15E. 1st South 

; i 5afr£aHQ1y 


1 1 Lt[ JLegactj 

Margaret S. Fife 

MY Grandmother's ring — a plain, 
wide band of gold, of beauty, is un- 
marred by imperfection, as are my mem- 
ories of her who wore it. It is a bit of 
precious metal for one beloved, upon her 
wedding day, treasure that is mine — a 
golden circle that brings tears into my 
eyes, and dreams of hands I watched in 

A flour-dusted ring and rolling pin, and 
cherries picked and stoned, and pies fresh 
baked for tired sons, whose weary teams 
plodded up the tree-lined lane. A flash 
of gold, as quick, firm hands cracked nuts 
and stirred a rich, black-walnut cake. A 
brilliant glint caught by the morning sun, 
as pridefully she set her roses, and gath- 
ered babies' breath to hang through win- 
ter until next Memorial Day. The muted 
cluck of laying hens, as strong brown 
hands with a golden ring took new-laid 
eggs from rows of straw-filled nests. The 
flash of gold, as warm, sweet-smelling 
milk filled wide, round pans which then 
were taken to cooling rooms below. The 
burnished band again among the thorns, 
then sugared berries in their juice, and 
thick, yellow cream. 

A golden band, nearly covered, as it 
pushed deep clown in quick and snapping 
dough. Then spreading fresh jam on 
warm, thick-crusted bread with rising rolls 
high in the warming oven. A twinkling 
ring, as tiny stitches formed my wedding 
quilts. Tears on her ring, hands clasped 
in prayer for one dear grandchild's life. 

A ring on hands well used, wisely firm 
in discipline, gentle in devotion — on hands 
worn rough in service — hands schooled 
in helping when a friend had need. 

A ring bestowed in youth, with love 
and faith, and prayer, worn thin with 
age — a symbol of a dream fulfilled — of 
home, and strength, and wisdom from 
years lived to their fullness. 

"Each day must something new be 
learned, or count that day as lost . . . ." 

Page 340 

A priceless thing to learn from one clearly 
loved, a product of a mind kept keen 
through living well. 

All these, and more, are gifts that live 
with me — my memories of one choice 
among the chosen. A precious legacy 
have I, as on my hand I wear a new 
simple band of gold — a ring that binds 
me fast to days long gone, days rich with 
life, and each one blessed with touches 
of her hand. 

C7or TTly TYloth 


Christie Lund Coles 

White-winged your hair 
Above your time-seamed face, 
Quiet your hands 
That once made bridal lace; 

Deep, deep the stream 
Of all your memories, 
Of youth and love 
And summer ecstasies; 

Deep, too, my love 
And tinged by rushing fear, 
For the moment when 
You will not be here. 

Can my tears tell, 
On this your special day, 
What my heart feels . . . 
What my lips cannot say? 


Kate Richards 

It is sinful to deny support to the 
repentant one, and has a tendency to 
delay the day of his full repentance. 
Have faith in his efforts; it will help 
to make them sincere. 


To a summer of learning 
To your future 

Summer Quarter 




Branch of Brigham Young University 
70 North Main EMpire 3-2765 




Buy from Your Dealer 

Be Modern. 

Live Electrically 


Page 341 


Mason & Hamlin 

The Stradivari of Pianos 


Finest Toned Spinet Piano Built 


Finest Low Priced Piano Built 

You may obtain your music "Teach Me, 
Lord" for the November Fast Sunday 
Meeting at Beesley Music Company. 
Please order early! 

Beesley Musk Co. 

Pioneer Piano People 

It's awaiting 
You . . . 

X tLo there is still a tremendous amount 
of outstanding instruction and use await- 
ing you in this and other copies of the 
Relief Society Magazine. Your editions 
may be handsomely bound at the West's 
finest bindery and printing plant for $2.50 
cloth bound and $3.50 leather bound per 
volume plus postage for mail orders. All 
mail orders must be paid in advance. 
Follow these postage rates if you send 
your order by mail: 

Distance from 

Salt Lake City, Utah Rate 

Up to 150 miles 35 

150 to 300 miles 39 

300 to 600 miles 45 

600 to 1000 miles 54 

1000 to 1400 miles 64 

1400 to 1800 miles 76 

Over 1800 miles 87 

Leave them at our conveniently locat- 
ed uptown office. 

Deseret News Press 

Phone EMpire 4-2581 ^Q>^ 

31 Richards St. Salt Lake City 1, Utah ^Jff^ 

Page 342 

cbt/ver Spoons 

MariIJa C. Cook 

r hold in my hand a silver teaspoon en- 
■*• graved in an exquisite grape design. 
The history of this spoon is a sweet mem- 
ory of a spring day long ago. 

It was Relief Society day and Mother 
had gone to meeting as usual. We young- 
sters were waiting when we saw her horse 
and buggy coming home, down the lane. 
We greeted her with loving warmth. 
Even as she directed my brother to take 
the horse to the barn, we noticed an 
extra glow of happiness in her sweet face. 

When we were all in the house 
Mother took a package wrapped in tissue 
paper from her old black purse, opened 
it carefully, and there was a set of silver 
teaspoons with the lovely grape design. 
The only silver we had known up to 
this time were the precious keepsake 
pieces Mother had brought from Eng- 
land. Cries of, "Where did you get 
them?" burst from all of us. 

Mother told us, "You remember I 
took a white cake to Relief Society today. 
I knew there was to be a social, but I 
had no idea that I, the secretary, was to 
be the guest of honor. 

She told us all about the party and 
how Sister Fridal, the president, had made 
a speech and given her so much praise 
for her faithful service that Mother had 
become quite embarrassed. Then Sister 
Fridal had presented her with the beau- 
tiful spoons. 

I remember thinking how wonderful it 
was that Mother should be so honored 
and she only a secretary. Dear Sister Fri- 
dal and my mother were called from us 
years ago, but there is a reminder for me 
in this silver spoon. 

I, too, have a wonderful Relief Society 
secretary. Now I recognize the value of 
those hours spent in patient figuring and 
copying. Tomorrow is her birthday, and 
we are going to honor her in our meet- 
ing. We will give her a colorful flower- 
ing plant because in her beautiful modern 
home she has plenty of silver spoons. 

There Is Still Time 

(Continued from page 325) 

ward the elevator door. Nervous- 
ness chilled her. 

The nurse smiled encouragement. 
"Don't be afraid." She arranged the 
straps that would hold the patient 
in. "There should be someone to 
help you, but there just isn't. The 
girl left unexpectedly . . . not much 
pay for a nurse's aide. You're 
heaven-sent, you know." 

She came with Elizabeth to the 
elevator, rang the bell. "Don't be 
afraid," she said again. "The pa- 
tients are pretty heavily sedated. 
You'll have no trouble. Room 412, 

Elizabeth nodded. Her throat 
felt rough. The elevator door 
moved open silently. She stepped 
in quickly. The cart moved at her 
finger's touch. 

Room 412 was easy to find. The 
floor nurse helped her. The floor 
nurse was a tall, weary woman who 
did not look well at all. She was 
impatient with Elizabeth's newness. 

"Why on earth they can't find 
someone who knows for a change." 
She moved the cart beside the bed. 
"We've come to take you upstairs, 
Mrs. Metcalfe. Oh, come now, 
crying won't help matters at all." 

The patient, Elizabeth saw with 
compassion, was just a girl, not 
quite out of her childhood. She 
lifted a tear-stained face. "But if 
someone were only here. If Bill 
were onlv here, but he's in New 
York . . . ." 

"The nurse patted the cart im- 
patiently. "Hurry, Mrs. Metcalfe." 
(To be concluded) 


Write for information about 
the HISTORIC TRAIN that will 
include the great PAGEANT 


Another famous FESTIVAL 
TOUR. Sails for Europe from 
Montreal on July 17, 1956 
via the Empress of Canada. 
For Complete Details, Write or 

Vida Fox Clawson 

966 East South Temple 
Salt Lake City, Utah 


ALuminum Tray Etching 

Copper and Brass Tooling 

Shellcraft, Glass Etching and 
many others 

We can suggest many new, 
low-cost group projects 

Free Instructions and 

Price List on request 


240 East 2nd So. Salt Lake City, Utah 

Page 343 

Typical Leadership Week Workshop. 

¥UU can better serve 

Your Ward -Stake -Church 

^Attend Leadership Week 

June 18-22 

• Many classes of special, although unofficial, aids for Relief Society workers are 

• For detailed class schedule write B. Y. U. Leadership Week, Provo, Utah. Be sure 
to ask for a list of classes of special interest to Relief Society women. 

• Registration fee: $1.00 for the entire week's activities. 

Extension Division 

Brigham Young University 


Page 344 


The Faith of Our Pioneer Fathers 

Bryant S. Hinckley 

This collection of twenty-two faith-promoting 
stories recalls noble actions and achievements 
of stalwart pioneers in early days. Each story 
is illustrated. Many of the experiences re- 
lated are in print for the first time. 



Claude Richards 

This stimulating book offers a sound and 
authoritative history on the purpose of Tem- 
ple Work. Valuable information, taken from 
the writings of past and present General Au- 
thorities and other prominent L.D.S. leaders, 
is presented in an interesting manner. Add 
this important new book to your family 
Church library. 



Members of the First Presidency and Quorum 
of the Twelve discuss the thirteen Articles of 
Faith. President David O. McKay discusses 
these articles in action in a brief treatise, "We 
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The Cover: Stela "E" Quirigua (an Ancient Mayan City), Guatemala, Central 
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Page 348 


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


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

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

Editor - 
Associate Editor 
General Manager 

Evon W. Peterson 
Louise W. Madsen 
Aleine M. Young 
Josie B. Bay 
Christine H. Robinson 

----- President 

- - - - First Counselor 

- Second Counselor 

- - - Secretary-Treasurer 

Alberta H. Christensen Edith P. Backman 
Mildred B. Eyring Winniefred S. 

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Charlotte A. Larsen Annie M. Ellsworth 

Mary R. Young 


Marianne C. Sharp 

Vesta P. Crawford 

Belle S. Spafford 

Vol. 43 

JUNE 1956 

No. 6 


on tents 


"A Thing of Beauty" — Restoration of the Heber C. Kimball Home 

in Nauvoo Christine H. Robinson 350 

The Central American Mission Preston R. Nibley 362 

Our Homes and the Flag Blanche B. Stoddard 364 

Appreciation for the Singing Mothers David O. McKay 366 

Virtue Is Its Own Reward 377 

Diamonds and People Celia Luce 376 

Cliff Homes of the Ancients Nell Murbarger 384 

The Testimony Plant Nancy M. Armstrong 414 


Heart's Bounty — Chapter 1 Deone R. Sutherland 367 

When Mother's Reputation Was at Stake Nedra Stone Nickell 381 

There Is Still Time — Chapter 5 (Conclusion) Margery S. Stewart 391 


From Near and Far 348 

Sixty Years Ago 372 

Woman's Sphere Ramona W. Cannon 373 

Editorial: The 126th Annual Church Conference Marianne C. Sharp 374 

Notes to the Field: Summer Work Meetings 376 

Notes From the Field: Relief Society Activities Margaret C. Pickering 398 


Recipes From Central America Gladys K. Wagner 378 

Make Children's Clothes Economically and Professionally Ivie Huish Jones 387 

Emily Chadwick Zaugg Makes Many Quilts 397 

Early American Hooked Rug Design Elizabeth Williamson 415 


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 — Food Preparation and Service Rhea H. Gardner 407 

Literature — Shakespeare in Our Lives Briant S. Jacobs 408 

Music for Lessons on Shakespeare 410 

Social Science — Latter-day Saint Family Life John Farr Larson 410 

Notes on the Authors of the Lessons 412 


I Need a Tranquil Hour — Frontispiece Wanda G. Nielson 347 

The Rod, by Dorothy J. Roberts, 361; Dream Mirage, by Grace Wilson, 371; My Faith in God, 
by Alice Lyman Welling, 380; Long-Lost Friends, by Maude Rubin, 380; My Garden, by Cath- 
erine E. Berry, 386; Mortar for the Miles, by Verla R. Hull, 390; On a Sleepless Summer Night, 
by Beulah Huish Sadleir, 390; To a Friend, by Marvel Crookston, 397; The Manti Temple, by Ger- 
trude Beck, 402; Sleeping Love, by Gertrude Kovan, 413; An Orchard, by Christie Lund Coles, 
page 414. 


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The Magazine is not responsible for unsolicited manuscripts. 

4 k 

A Thing of Beauty" 

Restoration of the Heber C. Kimball Home in Nauvoo 

Christine H. Robinson 
Member, General Board of Relief Society 

A thing of beauty is a joy forever; 
Its loveliness increases; it will never 
Pass into nothingness; but will keep 
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep 
Full of sweet dreams .... 

THESE immortal words, penned 
by John Keats in 1817, might 
well have been written about 
the once beautiful and prosperous 
city of Nauvoo. Even though 
time and decay have had a ravish- 
ing effect upon the life of this his- 
toric community, still, "it will nev- 
er pass into nothingness; but will 
keep a bower quiet for us, and a 
sleep full of sweet dreams." 

The history and character of na- 
tions and individuals are revealed 
primarily in three ways. We learn 
about them through historical writ- 
ings, through traditions and cus- 
toms, and through the material 
things which they leave to their 

Among these material things are 
the homes in which they lived. 
Throughout the ages the home and 
its furnishings provide a key to a 
people's way of life, and to the de- 
gree of civilization attained. 

The home, probably more than 
anything else that an individual 
builds, sets forth in concrete form 
his basic ideals, character, and per- 

In the recorded history of our 
early pioneer leaders, we read that 
they were a fearless people, pos- 
sessed with the faith and courage of 
the prophets of old. We read that 

Page 350 

they were a sensitive people of re- 
finement and good taste who 
sought after cultural things and the 
happy life, believing in the prin- 
ciple that, "Man is that he might 
have joy." 

In building their homes in Nau- 
voo, these stalwart pioneers revealed 
that they possessed these charac- 
teristics. Although most of their 
beautiful homes have long since 
been destroyed, yet, from the few 
that still remain, we can see bounti- 
ful evidence of their faith, courage, 
refinement, and good taste. 

''THE Heber C. Kimball home, one 
of the few pioneer residences 
which today still stand in Nauvoo, 
is a remarkable example of how the 
builder puts the stamp of his charac- 
ter and personality in the thing he 
builds. This beautiful home is a 
testimony and a monument to the 
courage, industry, and enterprise of 
this great Latter-day Saint leader. 

The Heber C. Kimball home is 
probably one of the few homes 
ever built into which an individual 
poured loving care and skill while 
knowing that he would have the 
privilege of living in it for only a 
short time. It is recorded that 
when this great leader first entered 
Nauvoo— or Commerce as it was 



then called— he made this prophetic 
remark: "It is a very pretty place 
but not a long abiding home of the 

Notwithstanding this conviction, 
Heber C. Kimball immediately ap- 
plied his great skill and power to 
help build the small village of Com- 
merce into the beautiful city of 
Nauvoo it was soon to become. 

After finding shelter for his fam- 
ily, he purchased five acres of dense 
woodland and in one day cut suf- 
ficient logs to build his family a 
small, temporary home. He moved 
his family into this home in late 
August 1839. Almost immediately 
thereafter, on the 18th of Septem- 
ber, accompanied by his good friend 
Brigham Young, he left for his sec- 
ond mission to England. After 
almost two years in the mission 
field he returned home to Nauvoo. 

In a letter to the editor of the 
Millennial Star, Brother Kimball 

We landed in Nauvoo on the 1st of 
July .... When we got in sight of 
Nauvoo we were surprised to see what 
improvements had been made since we 
left home. There were not more than 
thirty buildings in the city when we left 
about two years ago, but at this time 
there are twelve hundred, and hundreds 
of others are in progress which will be 
finished soon. You will recollect that 
when we built our houses in the woods 
there was not a house within a mile of 
us. Now the place, wild as it was at that 
time, is converted into a thickly populated 
village .... The whole country for many 
miles is cultivated with corn, wheat, po- 
tatoes, and all kinds of produce; it looks 
as though the blessings of God rested up- 
on the crops of this region, and it is 
noticed by the inhabitants that come from 
other parts of the country, or counties 
around this place. 

The blessings of God rest on this 
people . . . , There is every effort made 

to complete the House of the Lord; they 
devote every tenth day for that pur- 
pose .... It is going to be very mag- 
nificent .... Our enemies began to 
threaten us, for you know they cannot 
bear to see us prosper. 

TT was at this time, soon after his 
return from his second British 
mission, that Heber C. Kimball 
started the construction of his im- 
pressive home which, in that day, 
surely would have been judged mag- 
nificent. In due course the home 
was completed and now bears a 
stone tablet upon which is inscribed, 
"H. C. K. - 1845." 

The home is situated on a gentle 
slope about one-half mile from the 
Mississippi River and approximate- 
ly the same distance from the tem- 
ple site. It is built on a corner plot 
and, as was typical of the residences 
in that day, is bordered on two sides 
with a white picket fence. 

Among the few remaining resi- 
dences still standing in Nauvoo, 
there is no such thing as a typical 
Nauvoo house. Each structure has 
its own individuality and person- 
ality. Yet, each of the important 
homes expresses the existing archi- 
tectural style of the day — namely 
Modified Georgian, or Federal, as 
it is often called. 

The Heber C. Kimball home, al- 
though it has its own unique style, 
is a fine example of Modified 
Georgian architecture. It, like many 
of the homes in Nauvoo, is con- 
structed of mellow, tawny red 
bricks which were made locally in 
Nauvoo's oven kilns. In planning 
its architecture, Brother Kimball 
must have been inspired by the 
beautiful homes he had recently 
seen in England. The woodwork 
details inside of the house, over the 



Courtesy Dr. J. LeRoy Kimball 


doors and windows, are similar to 
those used in England during the 
Regency period — a period which 
coincided with the Modified Geor- 
gian and Federal period in America. 

On the other hand, the mantle 
over the fireplace and the irregular- 
ly sized floor boards in the Kimball 
home, are typical Early American 
in style. 

Unlike many of the other Nau- 
voo houses still standing which 
were rectangular in design, the 
Kimball home, as shown in the il- 
lustration, was built in two parts. 
The larger or main part of the 
house is constructed with one 
great end wall, handsomely win- 
dowed and double chimneyed. 
Stretching across the entire front of 
this main part is a beautifully pro- 
portioned white framed porch with 
an upstairs balcony. This archi- 

tectural treatment, apparently not 
used on any other houses in Nau- 
voo, was then popular in the South, 
particularly in New Orleans, which 
Heber C. Kimball had visited. 

The left wing, or smaller section 
of the house is slightly recessed with 
a small white frame portico over 
the door. 

Dentil molding, so popular in 
Georgian architecture, is used as a 
brick cornice on the house. These 
dentils are also used as decorative 
molding on the frame portico. All 
the windows in the house are 
framed with louvered green shut- 
ters. Early pictures of the house 
might give the impression that the 
windows are shutterless. Careful 
inspection, of these pictures, how- 
ever, reveals that the shutters were 
closed and locked for protection — 
thus preserving much of the old 



original glass in the windows. The 
entire architectural structure of the 
home is one of asymmetrical beauty 
and simplicity of line. 

The main entrance of the house 
is through an arched doorway open- 
ing into a narrow hall which divides 
the two main structural sections. 
This main hall stretches the entire 
depth of the house to a handsome 
back door, topped with a small- 
paned glass transom. On the right, 
near the front of this hall, is a nar- 
row, steep stairway leading to the 
floor above. There are six rooms 
downstairs, including a small room 
and pantry. 

The second floor has a corre- 
sponding number of rooms with 
two additional attic rooms in the 
main section of the house. Addi- 
tional details of the interior of the 
house are described later in this 

Heber C. Kimball - The Man 

Heber C. Kimball was born on 
June 14, 1801, at Sheldon, Vermont, 
just ten miles from the shores of 
beautiful Lake Champlain. He was 
the fourth child in a family of 

When he was ten years of age 
the family moved to West Bloom- 
field, New York, where his father 
engaged in farming, blacksmithing, 
and building. In this latter occu- 
pation, Heber's father built an 
academy, two commercial build- 
ings, and several private houses. It 
is apparent that while his father 
was engaged in this occupation 
young Heber learned, early in life, 
much about the building trade. 

As a young man of nineteen, He- 
ber moved in with his older brother 
Charles, who owned and operated 
a pottery business in Mendon, New 
York. Heber soon became skilled 

Distributed by Kron Pharmacy, Nauvoo, Illinois 


Decay has set in, many shutters are missing, as well as most of the front fence; the 
roof is sagging, and the porch over the east entrance has been changed. 



at molding pottery and, at twenty- 
one, purchased his brother's busi- 
ness, in which he greatly prospered 
for the next ten years. 

It was when Heber was twenty- 
one years of age that he first met 
Vilate Murray. She was a refined, 
intelligent girl of seventeen, who 
lived in the neighboring town of 
Victor, New York. 

One day, while riding on horse- 
back through this small village, 
Heber became thirsty. Stopping by 
a house where a gentleman was at 
work in the garden, he asked for a 
drink of water. The gentleman 
called to his youngest daughter 
Vilate, and asked her to bring a 
glass of water to the young man. 
Heber was impressed with the pret- 
ty, modest, and courteous young 
woman and lingered over his glass 
of water. In fact, he was so im- 
pressed that a few days later he 
stopped by for another drink. This 
time the father started to draw the 
water from the well, at which young 
Heber blushingly admitted that he 
had hoped to be served by Vilate. 
When Vilate brought the water, 
she did so amid the teasing, smiles, 
and taunts of her brothers and sis- 
ters. More visits followed and the 
two were married November 7, 

Vilate, like many other strong- 
charactered women who accepted 
Mormonism, was a loyal and loving 
helpmate to her husband, support- 
ing and aiding him in all his worthy 
endeavors. She was also a gener- 
ous and public-spirited woman who 
joined with other sisters of the 
Church in knitting and spinning 
material to clothe the men who 
worked on the Kirtland Temple 

and, later, on the temple in Nau- 
voo. In each community in which 
she lived, Vilate sought out the 
poor and timid, and brought them 
sustenance for their bodies and 
comfort to their souls. She was 
ever "disposed to do good and meet 
every obligation that devolved up- 
on her." 

Certainly with her artistic and re- 
fined temperament, Vilate must 
have exercised a remarkable influ- 
ence upon the life of her husband 
and, undoubtedly, employed her tal- 
ents and tastes in helping to plan 
and furnish the Kimball homes. 

While living in Mendon, Heber 
became acquainted with a young 
carpenter and cabinet maker by the 
name of Brigham Young. He 
found in this new acquaintance, 
who was also a native of Vermont, 
a man of kindred interests, back- 
ground, and ideals. These two soon 
became fast friends. Thus started 
a cherished friendship and close as- 
sociation which lasted for the next 
forty-three years. 

Brigham Young and Heber C. 
Kimball learned about the gospel at 
approximately the same time. With 
deep sincerity, they accepted its 
principles and were baptized and 
confirmed members of The Church 
of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints 
in April 1832 — just one day apart. 

When Brigham Young's first wife 
passed away, the Kimballs took his 
two small daughters into their home 
and cared for them. The two fami- 
lies moved to Kirtland, Ohio, at the 
same time, where Brigham Young, 
"being a carpenter, joiner, as well 
as a painter and glazier," built the 
Kimball home in this new com- 



One of the significant character- 
istics of Brother Kimball, as re- 
vealed in his journals, is that he 
was a home builder. As he moved 
from one community to another, 
one of his first acts was to purchase 
land, build a home, and ''situate 
himself to live comfortably/' This 
he did in Mendon, Kirtland, Nau- 
voo, and Salt Lake City. 

Brother Kimball loved his home 
and his family. He possessed an 
artistic temperament, was sociable, 
sensitive, and refined in his tastes. 
He was an earnest and humble man 
blessed with that rare combination 
of great dignity and a rich sense of 
humor. He was a man of courage 
and an indefatigable worker. He 
possessed a sublime faith in his 
Creator and in the divine mission of 
the Prophet Joseph Smith and the 
certain destiny of the restored 

The Nauvoo home of Heber C. 
Kimball reflects all of these char- 
acteristics. Built at a time when 
the saints were already being har- 
assed by the mobs, this stately 
home not only exemplifies refine- 
ment and good taste, but also, 
courage, faith, and determination in 
the face of great adversity. Through 
it we see the character of this man 
and his spiritual and temporal sta- 

Nauvoo — The City 

Nauvoo was no ordinary city. 
This city was not like those on the 
eastern seaboard of the United 
States, where buildings of different 
types, styles, and ages had all grown 
up in a heterogeneous fashion. 
Neither did Nauvoo resemble any 
of the frontier communities of the 

day, with their small humble build- 
ings all huddled protectively to- 

Nauvoo was a planned city. It was 
a city which grew in seven short 
years from a half-dozen nondescript 
structures, to a magnificent com- 
munity almost twice the size of the 
then sprawling city of Chicago. 

In 1842, The Times and Seasons 
described the city as follows: 

For three or four miles up the river 
and about the same distance back in the 
country, Nauvoo presents a city of gard- 
ens, ornamented with dwellings of those 
who have made a covenant by sacrifice, 
and are guided by revelation .... It will 
be no more than probably correct, if we 
allow the city to contain between 700 and 
800 houses, with a population of 14 or 
15,000 people. Many of the houses re- 
cently built are of brick . . . displaying 
that skill, economy and industry which 
have always characterized intelligent minds 
and laudable intentions .... 

We can, therefore, of a truth declare, 
that within the same length of time, and 
with the same amount of means, no so- 
ciety on the face of the globe has a bet- 
ter right to the claim of improvement by 
their own • industry, or have offered to 
their surrounding neighbors a plainer pat- 
tern of mechanical skill, domestic econ- 
omy, practical temperance, every-day vir- 
tue, and eternal religion, than the Church 
of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. 

Two steam mills have been put in op- 
eration this season, and many other build- 
ings for mechanical labor .... while the 
Temple of God and the Nauvoo House, 
which when finished, will hardly be sur- 
passed in the western world, are rising up 
as monuments of the enterprise, industry 
and reverence of the commandments of 

Contrast this picture of thriving 
Nauvoo with the unhealthful sec- 
tion of swamp land, mostly covered 
with trees and brush, which was the 




(With much of the restoration work completed. The plaque on the tree designates the 

Heber C. Kimball home.) 

old village of Commerce. This was 
the place Joseph Smith selected 
where the saints could build a city 
away from the wrath and persecu- 
tions of those who would thwart 
the establishment of his divinely in- 
spired latter-day work. It was here 
the saints had purchased a large 
tract of land and had decided to 
call the new city 7 which would be 
built there, Nauvoo, a word of He- 
brew origin which means, "a beau- 
tiful place." 

When the first few saints moved 
into the area they were poor in 
worldly goods, but rich in faith and 

courage. These attributes, coupled 
with thrift, industry, and the rich 
blessings of the Lord, soon brought 
them prosperity. 

Converts, not onlv from the east- 
ern parts of the United States, but 
also from Canada and Great Brit- 
ain, flocked into the rapidly grow- 
ing city. Many of these new con- 
verts were skilled artisans who 
brought to the community the cul- 
tural ideas and the practical know- 
how so essential to a developing 
pioneer community. 

The abilities and characteristics 
of these devoted immigrants an- 



swer the oft-repeated questions of 
how in Nauvoo so much could have 
been done so well in so little time. 
By 1843 there were in Nauvoo 
many skilled and capable crafts- 
men. There were carpenters and 
cabinet makers, masons and brick 
layers, tinsmiths and iron workers, 
silk and cotton weavers, as well as 
many other artisans, professional 
people, and common laborers. It 
was this combination of training and 
skills, coupled with industry and 
the ardent faith of new-found re- 
ligious convictions, that built Nau- 
voo and made it almost overnight 
into one of the most remarkable 
cities of all time. 

All the results of this industry, 
all this prosperity, all this accomp- 
lishment, however, were not long 
to endure. Heber C. Kimball's 
prophetic prediction that Nauvoo 
would be "not a long abiding home 
of the Saints/' was soon to be ful- 

The Prophet Joseph Smith's mur- 
der at the hands of the mob in 
Carthage, in June 1844, was soon 
followed by violent threats against 
the people of the city of Nauvoo. 
Late in 1845 the mobs demanded 
that Nauvoo be vacated by the fol- 
lowing spring. The people's cour- 
age and skill now must be turned 
in a different direction. Their faith 
and determination led them to 
follow their Prophet's instruction 
to complete their beautiful temple, 
while, at the same time, they worked 
feverishly to build and accumulate 
the necessary wagons and equip- 
ment for their western exodus. 

Those were heartbreaking days. 
The only material things they could 
carry with them were what could be 

packed into the few wagons at their 
disposal. As an indication of the 
kind of home furnishings they were 
forced to leave behind, a reporter, 
writing in the Carthage Republican, 

Scattered about were numerous adjuncts 
of refined and comfortable living, elegant 
furniture, paintings, here and there a 
piano or a harp, finely upholstered sofas 
and chairs, and many tasteful and con- 
venient things which well-to-do persons 
would surround themselves with in well- 
ordered homes (Nauvoo the Beautiful, by 
E. Cecil McGavin, page 232). 

Many of the attractive homes 
they sold to their enemies for small 
sums of money. Others were mere- 
ly locked up and left to be sold lat- 
er for taxes by the State of Illinois. 

No records have been discovered 
to indicate what happened to the 
Heber C. Kimball home during the 
years between 1846 and 1854. Deeds, 
however, have been found which 
reveal that during the nearly one 
hundred years since 1854, the nouse 
changed hands many times. 

Each new owner made certain 
changes in the house in accordance 
with his own ideas and way of life. 
At one time, because of neglect and 
deterioration, the house was about 
to be torn down but, because of 
its pleasing lines and because of its 
"certain something," it was pre- 

In 1954 this historical residence, 
rich in tradition, found its way back 
into the family which built and 
hallowed it with love and sacrifice. 
On the sixth day of March at 10:55 
a.m., Dr. J. LeRoy Kimball, a great- 
grandson of Heber C. and Vilate 
Kimball, purchased the home from 
Mrs. Katherine E. Jones, who had 




(Before the restoration. Note the broken 
plaster and exposed brick. ) 

owned the property for twenty 

Dr. Kimball had one objective 
when he made this purchase. He 
had a burning desire to preserve the 
home and to restore it as nearly as 
possible to its original charm and 

The Restoration 

The responsibility of restoring an 
old home is a fascinating and exhil- 
arating challenge. It also involves 
hard work, requiring countless 
hours of concentrated study and re- 

There is only one way that a work 
of restoration should be done — 
that is to do it right. There are no 
magic short cuts. 

To restore a home does not mean 
merely to repair it and make it liv- 
able. More is involved than just 
putting on a new roof, replastering 
broken walls, and adding a new coat 
of paint. Much more is required 
than simply refurnishing the house 
with any "old" furniture or new 

modern pieces that may happen to 
be readily available. 

The restoration of a home means 
to return it, as nearly as possible, 
to its original form and condition. 
It means also to redecorate and re- 
furnish it as closely as possible to 
the way it was decorated and furn- 
ished by its original builders and 

To accomplish this, one must 
first learn what the house was like 
when it was built. Due to subse- 
quent alterations and changes, this 
is not always easy. The personality 
and living habits of the original 
owners must be determined as ac- 
curately as possible. The living 
habits of the community also must 
be studied and a knowledge ob- 
tained of the architecture and furn- 
ishings characteristic of the decor- 
ating period during which the house 
was constructed and furnished. 

Gathering this information is in- 
volved and laborious. It requires the 
examination of old deeds, docu- 
ments, letters, and journals. It 
necessitates the study of old pictures 
and photographs, and the reading 
of histories of the individual and 
the times in which he lived. Finally, 
it requires a thorough understand- 
ing of architectural and decorating 

Armed with this knowledge and 
information, one is then ready to 
start work on the actual restoration 
—most often a long and painstak- 
ing task. 

In restoring the Heber C. Kim- 
ball home we have dedicated our- 
selves to rediscover and retain all 
of its early charm and appeal. We 
want to make the home as authen- 
tic as possible but, at the same time, 



Hal Rumel 


These furnishings are to be placed in the Kimball home, although not in the 
grouping illustrated above. The picture on the wall at the right is of Heber C. Kimball. 
The chairs are Windsor, popular in America about 1740-1850. These particular chairs 
are English. The Victorian lamp stood for many years in an old Nauvoo home. The 
footstool was used by Heber C. Kimball in his Salt Lake City home. 



not a home designed merely for dis- 
play or as a museum piece, but rath- 
er as one which was once lived in 
and loved. 

In restoring the outside of the 
house it was necessary to find a 
supply of old bricks which could be 
used to replace those which had fal- 
len out of the walls or which were 
in bad condition. Much of the 
brick dentil molding, too, was miss- 
ing, and this had to be replaced 
with brick of the same size, color, 
and vintage. To accomplish this, 
old brick was obtained from another 
old house in Nauvoo which was be- 
ing torn down. 

The front porch needed repair 
and had to be restored to its origi- 
nal design as depicted in early 
photographs. The portico over the 
east entrance was completely miss- 
ing, as were the back porch and the 
front picket fence. All of these 
have been rebuilt as nearly like the 
originals as possible. 

The entire west end of the build- 
ing sagged badly and needed to be 
shored up with heavy beams an- 
chored to the inside of the base- 
ment foundation. The roof was 
completely replaced. Shutters, miss- 
ing from several windows, were re- 
placed and matched exactly with 
those which had been preserved. 
Most of the windowpanes, due to 
the protective shutters, were still in 
good condition. Broken panes, how- 
ever, were replaced with old glass 
garnered from other old buildings 
in Nauvoo. 

INTERIOR restoration presented 
some interesting problems. No 
photographs or accurate descrip- 
tions of the interior were available. 

Consequently, we were forced to 
rely on what was left of the original 
woodwork and upon a study of the 
interior designs of the day. For 
example, many of the old homes of 
that period were equipped with in- 
side as well as outside shutters. After 
stripping off some of the old paint, 
and after careful examination of the 
window frames, we concluded that 
the Kimball home certainly must 
have had inside shutters. We also 
reasoned that these shutters prob- 
ably would not have been destroyed. 
Consequently, we conducted a 
thorough search of the entire prem- 
ises and were rewarded with the dis- 
covery of the missing shutters hid- 
den in a recess under the attic eaves. 
The discovery of a buried treasure 
could not have been more exciting. 
These shutters fit perfectly the four 
windows of the two front rooms 
and, much to our surprise, they 
were made of glass, rather than 
wood, which was more common at 
the time. These old glass shutters 
were still in a perfect state of pres- 
ervation, with the exception of one 
broken pane. 

The attic search also yielded two 
original paneled doors which had 
been removed and discarded. 

The unique old cupboard on the 
side of the fireplace had been mod- 
ernized. This now has been re- 
stored to its original state. 

Floors in most of the rooms were 
in bad condition. These have been 
repaired, using old, irregular size 
floor boards taken from an old barn. 

In the process of redecorating, a 
century of old paint, as well as many 
accumulated layers of wallpaper 
have had to be removed. These are 
being replaced with paint and wall- 



paper of a color and design charac- 
teristic of the decorating of the pe- 

The problem of finding the right 
furniture and furnishings for the 
Kimball home is complicated and 
challenging. Many pieces of furni- 
ture actually used in the Kimball 
home in Salt Lake City are avail- 
able. Some of these will be placed 
in the Nauvoo home, primarily to 
illustrate his and his family's taste 
and also for sentimental reasons. 
However, the real furniture prob- 
lem consists in finding old pieces 
which likely would have been in 
the Nauvoo home in 1845. This 
has led us to a nation-wide search 
which has discovered such items in 
Nauvoo, St. Louis, New Orleans, 
New York, California, and Salt 
Lake City. As a matter of fact, one 
or two special items connected with 
Brother Kimball's missionary activi- 
ties have been brought from Eng- 

Although the restoration of the 
Heber C. Kimball Nauvoo home is 
not completed and will yet take con- 

siderable time, the project has been 
and is a most fascinating and re- 
warding experience. 

The work of the restoration has 
led us into a richer understanding 
of the lives and ideals of our stal- 
wart pioneers. It has reacquainted 
us with the faith, courage, and sac- 
rifices so embedded into the cre- 
ative period of our Church and has 
persuaded us that these virtues and 
this heritage have not been lost. 
They become the stepping stones to 
a greater effort and adventure and 
have become the foundation upon 
which our current great blessings in 
these mountain valleys have been 

Our study of the Heber C. Kim- 
ball home of Nauvoo reimpresses 
us with the fact that "a thing of 
beauty is a joy forever," and as 
Keats continues: 

Nor do we merely feel these essences 
For one short hour .... 

That whether there be shine, or gloom 

They always must be with us, or we 

cJhe u\od 

Dorothy J. Roberts 

Who can guess how kind the rod 
Wielded in the hand of God; 
Who can measure, yet, the grace 
He writes upon each questing face? 

Who can know? All those who trust 
And rise up, stricken, from the dust; 
Who give their lives in darkest hour 
Back into his tender power, 

Courtesy Nacional de Turismo, Ciudad de Guatemala 
Submitted by Gladys K. Wagner 


cJke Lyentrat J/t4 


Pieston R. Nibley 



TN the summer of 1942, John Forres O'Donnal, a member of the Church, 
who was employed by the United States Government, was sent to Hon- 
duras, and later to Guatemala, to assist in establishing experimental rubber 
plantations in those countries. Four years later, in September 1946, Presi- 
dent Arwell Pierce of the Mexican Mission, accompanied by his wife, made 
a tour of Central America, for the purpose of investigating the possibilities 
of missionary work in that region. He made a report of his trip to the 
First Presidency, and in the summer of 1947, Guatemala, Honduras, El 
Salvador, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, and Panama were added to the Mexican 

In August 1947, President Pierce, accompanied by four missionaries, 
journeyed to Guatemala. These elders were Seth G. Mattice, Earl E. 
Hansen, Robert B. Miller, and David D. Lingard. On the morning of 

Page 362 



September 7th, the four elders, with President Pierce and Elder O'Donnal, 
climbed to the summit of a hill overlooking Guatemala City, and Presi- 
dent Pierce dedicated the city and its environs to the preaching of the gos- 
pel and the establishment of the Church organizations. Missionary work 
was begun immediately and has continued to the present time. The first 
baptism was performed when Brother O'Donnal baptized his wife and 
small daughter on November 13, 1948. 

A separate mission, the Central American, was formed in October 
1952 and Gordon M. Romney was installed as president. The new mis- 
sion comprised the countries of Guatemala, Honduras, British Honduras, 
El Salvador, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, the Republic of Panama, and the 
Panama Canal Zone. 

President Romney presided until October 1955, when he was suc- 
ceeded by Edgar L. Wagner, who presides at the present time. On Janu- 
ary 1, 1956, there were 854 members of the Church in the Central Ameri- 
can Mission, located in twenty-three branches. Fourteen Relief Society 
branches were reported, with 185 members. Gladys K. Wagner presides 
over the Central American Mission Relief Society. 

Courtesy Pablo Sittler, Foto Europa, Guatemala 
Submitted by Gladys K. Wagner 




Our Homes and the Flag 

Blanche B. Stoddard 
Member, General Board of Relief Society 

OF all the people in the United 
States, Latter - day Saints 
should love and revere the 
flag. In no other nation in the 
world could the gospel have been 
restored. We say our Constitution 
was God-given — good men were 
raised up to form it. The Prophet 
said it is a glorious standard found- 
ed in the wisdom of God. He 
called it a heavenly banner. "It is 
to all those who are privileged with 
the sweets of liberty, like the cool- 
ing shades and refreshing waters of 
a great rock in a thirsty and weary 
land" (Teachings oi the Prophet 
Joseph Smith, page 147). The Con- 
stitution of the United States is the 
supreme human law of conduct and 
of government for its citizens from 
birth till death. 

Relief Society mothers know the 
value- and beauty of the Constitu- 
tion. The Flag is its symbol; there- 
fore, it should mean more to them 
than ever before, after having stud- 
ied our social science lessons of the 
past three years. Teaching proper 
reverence and respect for the Flag 
to our children will be a real appli- 
cation of those lessons into our 
lives and homes. 

Do we own Flags in our homes 
to display on appropriate occasions? 
What are some of these occasions? 
They include New Year's Day, 
Lincoln's and Washington's birth- 
days, Mother's Day, Memorial Day, 
Flag Day, Independence Day, La- 
Page 364 

bor Day, Veterans Day, Thanks- 
giving Day, and other local or na- 
tional public or historical occasions 
of a military, civil, or religious na- 
ture. It seems to me that years ago 
we saw the Flag displayed often, 
and now it is displayed seldom, and 
then receives only casual attention. 
We are accused, as Americans, of 
knowing very little about our Flag, 
and of being very careless in ob- 
servance of the laws of respect due 
it. During street parades, thousands 
fail to stand at attention and salute 
their Flag as it passes by. When 
the Flag flashes on our television 
or movie screens, few pay attention. 
When the Flag is passing, those 
walking should halt; or, if sitting, 
they should stand, men with hats 
placed over their hearts, women 
with right hands over their hearts, 
until the Flag has passed. This sa- 
lute should be rendered for every 
American Flag that passes. 

The "Stars and Stripes," or "Old 
Glory" as we know it today, was first 
adopted June 14, 1777, by order of 
the Continental Congress. Legend 
has it that Betsy Ross was a patri- 
otic Philadelphian seamstress and a 
friend of George Washington. He, 
with others appointed to a commit- 
tee by Congress, visited her in June 
1776, requesting her to make a 
Flag. George Washington sketched 
a rough design, and with bits of red 
and white and blue cloth which she 
had in her little shop, she followed 



his directions. The Flag she so dil- 
igently cut and stitched was accept- 
ed by Congress. 

To Americans, there is no other 
Flag as beautiful as the "Stars and 
Stripes." My husband spent four 
years on a mission to South Africa 
during World War I. He had ex- 
perienced many homesick hours for 
his native land. On the way home, 
while anchored in the harbor of 
Port Said, halfway around the world, 
he saw for the first time in those 
four years, the "Stars and Stripes" 
flying over one of our warships. He 
said that never before nor since, has 
he experienced such a thrill of pride 
and joy. The same "Stars and 
Stripes," flying over Fort McHen- 
ry in September 1814, inspired 
Francis Scott Key to write the im- 
mortal words of "The Star-Spangled 
Banner," which, by an Act of Con- 
gress, was designated as our Nation- 
al Anthem in 1931. The Flag is a 
fitting symbol of all that Washing- 
ton meant it to represent— the Flag 
of a free people who have never 
been defeated in war— a Flag under 
which men from every clime can be 
shielded against oppression and be 
given the opportunity to succeed in 
any honest endeavor. 

HPHE real name of our Flag is 
1 "The Flag of the United States 
of America." Under this Flag, 
government by the people first 
grew. Many brave men struggled 
for liberty and laid the groundwork 
that made such a Flag possible. This 
is the Scouters' definition of the 
Flag: "Blue represents justice, like 
the eternal blue of the star-filled 
heaven; White is for purity, clean- 
ness of purpose of word or deed; 
and Red is the red life-blood of 

brave men and women, ready to live 
or die worthily for their country." 

Flag Day, as it is now observed 
on June 14, was instituted by B. J. 
Cigrand, a schoolteacher of Fre- 
donia, Wisconsin. He, with his 
pupils, on June 14, 1885, held the 
first recorded celebration of the 
Flag's birthday. But more important 
than the past history of our Flag or 
how it was born, is the way we show 
our respect for it today. Does it 
mean as much to us now as it did 
to Americans in 1777? Is it a part 
of our homes and our lives? 

Let us think seriously, proudly, 
and reverently of what our Flag 
does mean to us. "Old Glory" is 
not a piece of material but a symbol 
—not a symbol of a royal family, a 
dictator, nor of a special class or 
race. It is a symbol of freedom 
and opportunity to every man, wom- 
an, and child in America, and to 
oppressed people all over the world. 
These lines are part of the enduring 
bronze inscription on the base of 
the Statue of Liberty: 

Give me your tired, your poor, 

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe 

The wretched refuse of your teeming 

Send these, the homeless, tempest tossed, 

to me: 
I lift my lamp beside the golden door. 

— Emma Lazarus 

Repeat often the "Pledge" to our 

I pledge allegiance to the Flag of the 
United States of America, and to the Re- 
public for which it stands; one nation, 
under God, indivisible, with liberty and 
justice for all. 

TSNT this "Pledge," written origi- 
nally by Francis Bellamy, Octo- 
ber 21, 1892, and since modified a 


little, a good pledge for every Ameri- homes"; the right to own private 

can? The national Flag represents property; the right to go into busi- 

the living country and is itself con- ness and competition to make an 

sidered as a living thing. There- honest living ... so many privileges 

fore, a Flag Code has been estab- denied to a majority of the peoples 

lished. Your Boy Scout sons know of the world. In the family group, 

it and are taught to observe it; but study the Flag Code and the 

if they see no respect in the home "don'ts" in handling and displaying 

nor among their elders for this the Flag. Children should not play 

emblem, their Scout training re- with it, nor should they decorate 

garding it will not avail them much, their bicycles and cars with it; in- 

Mothers of America, what can we stead, they should use red, white, 

do to engender reverence for this and blue bunting. Old, worn-out 

Flap? I am sure there are many Flags should be destroyed and not 

.1. T-- i. £ ii ~ ^ -^ desecrated. There is much to teach 

things. First of all, own one in "^^ • 

b , ., . i •. i • . j -i. regarding it. Your Boy Scout son 

your family, teach its history and its J^ ^ ^.^ J[ ^ 

symbolism, and display it at every ^ ^ f . di the Flag> 

appropriate opportunity. Discuss and thus ft would hecomG more 

it often in the Family Hour. Enu- sacred to him. 

merate the blessings of living under Let Latter-day Saint mothers in 

it— blessings of the right to worship ot i ier na tions likewise teach their 

in one's own way; the right to free children to honor the respective 

speech and press; the right to vote; fl a g S f their countries, and let 

the right to protection; the right every mother in the United States 

of trial by jury; the right of habeas fly "Our Flag" on this Flag Day, 

corpus; the right to 'privacy in our June 14, 1956. 

Appreciation for the Singing nlothers Expressed 
by [President (David (9. IllcJxay 

(At the closing session of the 126th General Conference of the Church) 

\\7E have said ''thank you" to the members of the Choirs, but let me 
mention them again .... We appreciate what they did ... . 
our Singing Mothers. I cannot mention the name "mother" without 
being overcome with emotion. Those mothers who furnished that sing- 
ing were the mothers of 1600 children! Even their title, "Singing Mothers," 
tells a story of sacrifice, a story of love, a story of home. No wonder they 
could sing the songs of Zion so inspirationally under the masterful leader- 
ship of Sister Florence Jepperson Madsen. 

Heart's Bounty 

Chapter i 

Deone R. Sutherland 

ANNIE stood by the wagon and 
horses saying a last goodbye 
" to her mother and brothers 
and their little mountain cabin. Her 
father strapped her box in the back 
of the wagon. 

"You hold up your head, Annie 
Griffith," her mother said. "You 
don't have to go, if you don't want 
to. But a mountain's no place for 
a girl to get higher education, and 
Brother and Sister Williams' offer 
to have you taught right along with 
their daughter Marie, until your fa- 
ther's mission is over, cutting stone 
for the temple, is a wonderful op- 
portunity, and an answer to our 

"I know." Annie lifted her eyes 
to the mountains where the brush 
was turning orange and brown 
through all the heavy green. 

"The Griffiths owned property in 
the old country, and don't you for- 
get it, Annie. And we own proper- 
ty here, too. In another three or 
four years, when the temple's fin- 
ished, we'll be back on our own 
farm, and you'll be home again, a 
young lady." Her eyes turned to 
her husband, who tightened a rope 
and felt the tautness of it. "You 
be careful, Mister Griffith." 

"There's no need to be saying 
that," smiled Annie's father, as he 
took his wife in his arms, and then 
kissed each of the wriggling boys. 

"Here now," he said sternly, "y ou 
kiss your sister Annie. She'll be all 

grown, with her hair up and every- 
thing, likely, before you have her 
home to live again." 

They grudgingly let Annie peck 
their cheeks. 

"Fourteen now, she is," said her 
mother, sighing. She smoothed 
Annie's hair with her long fingers, 
and then turned her to the wagon. 
Annie climbed up on the seat. 

"You're a pretty girl, Annie," her 
father said, climbing in beside her. 
"But don't you go giving yourself 
airs, ever." 

"I won't, Papa." She kissed his 
cheek and threw kisses to her moth- 
er and the boys while a bird sang 
wildly overhead. Her father start- 
ed the team and the grind of the 
wheels shut out most other sounds 
on the long, hard trip to Salt Lake. 

The first night they slept in the 
back of the wagon. Annie watched 
the stars through the trees, while 
trying to feel out the homesickness 
she knew was couched somewhere, 
like not quite daring to touch a sore 
tooth with your tongue. Her father 
reached over and put his hand 
across her eyes. She soon went to 

The next night they stopped at 
a friend's house in a tiny, mud- 
spattered village. She and her fa- 
ther made their beds on the floor. 
She was too exhausted more than 
to glance at the log and sod ceiling 
before she fell asleep. 

On the fourth day they drove in- 

Page 367 



to the city of Salt Lake. Annie 
stared at the big houses and the 
stores. There were so many of 
them! Her father had to ask direc- 
tions twice about the Williams' 

"Is it there, Papa?" Annie stared 
at the big stone house with the iron 
fence running around the yard. "It 
has some kind of little tower, even, 

"Some kind of foolishness, at any 
rate. The Williams are wonderful 
people for all that." 

He climbed heavily down from 
the wagon. Annie stepped out on 
the carriage block and saw a lace 
curtain move at one of the windows. 
She turned and stared at the wagon. 

"I'll take you in before I start 
loosening your box." 

ANNIE followed her father 

through the iron gate up the 

path to the house. He swung the 

knocker once and the door opened 

almost immediately. 

"Is it the Griffiths?" A tall, 
brown-haired woman smiled at 
them. "I'm Mrs. Williams' sister. 
She'll be down immediately. I've 
already told her you've come, Broth- 
er Griffith. Annie dear, this is my 
niece Marie. You're going to share 
Marie's room as well as her studies. 
You'll be great playmates, I'm sure. 
Oh, yes, I'm Aunt Agnes Foster." 

"Thank you, Sister Foster." Mr. 
Griffith followed her into the parlor 
and sat on the only wooden chair 
in the room. "I'm too dusty to be 
sitting on satin and embroidery like 
that," he said. 

Annie hung back by the door. 

Marie whirled around on a piano 
stool and tapped a key, while her 

yellow curls swung forward over her 

"Marie, dear," her aunt reproved 

"Ah, a piano." Annie's father's 
eyes lit up. "Now, we're a people 
who love music. Annie sings like 
a nightingale. You'll love a rarity 
like that, Annie." 

Marie and Sister Foster looked at 
Annie. Annie felt the blood rush 
to her face. 

Sister Williams came in the door. 
"Have they been teasing you already, 
Annie dear?" She put an arm around 
Annie's shoulder. "I'm not very 
well." She shook hands with An- 
nie's father. "I spend more time 
than I should having to rest." 

"I hope Annie'll be something of 
a help and not too much of a both- 

"Oh, yes, yes, we'll love having 
a sister for Marie. Marie's always 
lonely. Well, you can all clean up 
and rest before dinner. Brother 
Williams will be so interested in a 
full report— in hearing about every- 
thing. You planned to start 
back . . . ?" 

"In the morning." Mr. Griffith 
started to the door. "I'll bring in 
Annie's box; then there's lots I've 
to do this day. I've a long list of 
supplies to buy. I can rest enough 
later tonight." 

"Well, anyway, Marie can take 
Annie up and help her unpack and 
show her everything." Sister Wil- 
liams waved the girls to the stair- 

"Haven't you ever seen a mirror 
before?" asked Marie. She put her 
head down beside Annie's, and they 
stared at their reflections. 

"Not one so big." Annie plaited 



her hair slowly while Marie watched. 

"I like curls better, though I dare- 
say your hair is very becoming." 
Marie smiled at her quickly. "You 
do have the loveliest eyes. Who- 
ever heard of blue eyes with hair 
that black?" 

"I have my mother's eyes," said 
Annie proudly. "I think your curls 
are just beautiful. My hair would 
never go like that." 

"Well, you could loosen it at the 
sides like this, so it could curl just 
a little. Isn't that better?" Marie 
leaned back and looked critically at 

"We'd better hurry," Annie said. 
"We won't be any help at all, if 
we don't." 

"Don't worry," laughed Marie. 
"You're still too new. They won't 
make us do too much yet awhile." 
But the girls hurried downstairs 
through the dining room, the kitch- 
en, and the pantry. They were soon 
put to work. 

Y the time Annie finished eat- 
ing dinner she could hardly 
keep her eyes open, though she tried 
to keep them fastened on her father 
as long as possible. It couldn't be 
true that this was the last meal with 
him for a good many months, per- 
haps a year. Already the mere 
thought of her mother and brothers 
tightened her throat and brought 
tears stinging to her eyes. She was 
more exhausted than she realized 
from the long wagon trip. 

Sister Williams stood up after a 
short visit in the parlor. "I really 
think we should get the girls to bed 
early tonight. Annie's had such a 
long trip, she can hardly stay 

Annie kissed her father goodnight 


after they had family prayers. He 
patted her shoulder with his rough 
hand and assured her he'd wake her 
in the morning before he started 
out. She was to wait to say good- 
bye then, and she was not to think 
of a thing tonight but sleep. 

Marie went grumbling up the 
stairs with Annie, protesting that 
she wasn't a bit sleepy. Annie 
washed and changed into her night- 
gown by candlelight. The feather 
tick enveloped her at once, and she 
was asleep in the warm softness be- 
fore she'd even had a chance to re- 
mark on how lovely the moonlight 
was through their tall, narrow bed- 
room window. 

Annie awoke with a terrible feel- 
ing of not knowing for a moment- 
where she was. Then her father's 
face came close to her ear. "Wake 
up, Annie, and dress. I must be 
off, and you may come downstairs 
and say goodbye. The wagon's 
loaded, honey. Are you awake?" 

There was no need for the ques- 
tion, for Annie's eyes were like two 
saucers. She slid out of bed, and 
was into her dress in no time at all. 
Buttoning her shoes took forever, it 
seemed to Annie, because her hands 
had begun to tremble a little, and 
her fingers seemed all thumbs. Now 
that she was up and awake, she 
could hear voices downstairs. She 
pulled back the lace curtain at the 
window. Yes, her father's wagon 
was loaded and ready. They were 
hitching the team up now. Brother 
Williams tightened the ropes hold- 
ing the supplies on the wagon. She 
didn't know the other young man 
helping her father. Her father was 
tall, but that boy seemed almost 



Annie had no time to comb her 
hair and rebraid it. She wet her 
fingers and pushed at the sides. She 
was ashamed to do that; certainly 
her mother would hardly be proud 
of that. But she had no more time, 
she thought desperately. They 
should have awakened her earlier. 
She could have helped load the wag- 
on, and she would have had more 
time to be with her father. She 
ran down the stairs and tugged at 
the front door. Sister Williams 
called to her, and she had to go 
back for a shawl Sister Williams was 
holding. He'd be gone before she 
even got outside, she thought in 

"It's an unkindness to keep you, 
Annie, but I don't want you to 
catch your death before you've been 
with us a day." 

Sister Williams smiled at her 
while Annie made her pounding 
heart subside. Then Sister Williams 
pointed to the door, and Annie flew 
out to her father. The horses were 
standing hitched to the wagon, 
ready to go. 

"Have you had breakfast, Fa- 
ther?" Annie cried. 

LfER father turned and picked her 
up in his arms. "You can be 
sure I have," he said kindly. "Now, 
no tears and no fretting. This is 
a kind of mission you're going on, 
little girl. Here's an opportunity 
for you to learn a great many things, 
to be a help to the Williams family. 
The Griffiths will be most proud 
to have a school mistress in the 
family. Your mother's taught you 
all she can, and we know what a 
smart child you are already, and that 
you'll take to your books with no 

trouble. Keep the things we've 
taught you fast in your head and 
heart, and live by your head and 
heart. Say your prayers and you'll 
have nothing but sunshine in your 
days. There's no kinder people 
than the Williams', my big girl." 

Annie blinked back the tears and 
promised her father to do her best. 

Her father went back and shook 
Brother and Sister Williams' hands. 
"Annie, Annie, I've forgotten all my 
manners. This young man who has 
helped me so well with the wagon 
is Brother Parker Josephson, who 
lives just next door. See, you're get- 
ting acquainted with new friends 

The man greeted her, but Annie 
had no eyes for anyone except her 
father. Though her chin trembled, 
Annie held fast to her smile until 
her father had gee-upped the horses. 
The wagon rumbled down the 
street. Annie watched it until it 
turned off from sight. 

"Oh, Papa," she cried and moved 
away from Sister Williams' arms as 
if to run after the vanished wagon. 

Parker Josephson caught her. He 
wiped away the tears, talking in 
soothing tones about how soon her 
father would have to come in for 
supplies again. Annie stiffened in 
embarrassment. Parker let her go, 
leading her back to the Williams' 
front door. 

"We're going to be the best of 
friends because Marie and I are 
good friends. I've dried more tears 
for Marie than you just shed many 
times. She cries at the drop of a 
hat, or, at least, every time she falls 
down or skins her nose or . . . ." 

Annie smiled a little. She 



couldn't imagine dainty, perfect 
Marie skinning her nose. 

Parker smoothed her hair. ''I 
won't tell a soul you forgot to comb 
your hair, if you march right up- 
stairs and wash your face and comb 
and brush all that beautiful black 
hair properly." 

"I will," Annie promised. 

Sister Williams held the door 

Marie ran out onto the porch, 
her hair a golden tangle. "Don't 
go, Parker, stay and play with us." 

"At this time in the morning?" 
Parker laughed. "Got to be off to 
work." He waved goodbye again 
to the girls. 

Annie and Marie went upstairs 
together. "I'm sorry I didn't wake 
up in time to say goodbye to your 
father, Annie. You should have 
poked me." 

"That's all right," Annie said. 
"I didn't wake up too early myself." 

"Isn't Parker the nicest person 
you've ever met?" Marie bounced 
on her bed. 

"Yes, except for our families, of 
course." Annie began to brush her 

"Well, I meant except for them." 
Marie fluffed her hair. "I'm going 
to marry Parker when I grow up. 
He says I can. I don't care how 
many years older he is . . . ." 

Sister Williams paused at their 
door. "Marie, is that a good ex- 
ample to set for Annie? Do your 
hair and start the beds, dear, and 
hurry downstairs. Your breakfast 
is late now." 

"When do we have lessons?" An- 
nie whispered to Marie on the way 

"You'll see all too soon. We have 
to work and work and study and 
study. We hardly ever get to 

Annie decided Marie didn't look 
too overworked. She would wait 
and judge for herself. Then she 
promised herself, I will be happy 
here. She would please her fa- 
ther and mother, and she would 
work very hard. 

"Well," said Brother Williams 
kindly, "Annie, you've a smile for 
us already, I see. That's a good be- 

(To be continued) 

LDream 1 1 It rage 

Grace Barker Wilson 

I woke last night and thought I heard the wind 
Blow through the tops of pine trees on the hill 
I used to climb when I was young. A thinned 
Far cry of hoot owls brought remembered chill 
Along my spine. Soft twitter of the wrens 
That nested near my window in the eaves, 
Seemed reassuring. As I lay there tense, 
I smelled the damp of rain on orchard leaves. 
So real it seemed I pulled the curtain back. 
White moonlight flooded all the desert land; 
On wide horizons shadows hovered black; 
No tree, no hill, no bird, just wind and sand. 

(btxtyi LJears ^yigo 

Excerpts From the Woman's Exponent, June 1, and June 15, 1896 

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


think language will fail me, but still enough can be said to encourage the sisters in 
their noble work. In the language of scripture, to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, 
to nurse and administer to the sick embraces the highest point of the moral law that 
can be expected of humanity; the fact of which, is so well acknowledged by all sects, 
all creeds, and all people whether Christian or barbarian . . . and woman has done 
her work so well that it really appears to be one of the greatest essentials of human 
happiness ... no wonder that the Prophet Joseph Smith was inspired to organize 
the Relief Society, as he saw how much more good could be done in a united 
capacity .... — John Wayman 

UTAH WOMAN'S PRESS CLUB: We do not limit our membership, one of the 
primary objects of our organization being to encourage young writers and cultivate all 
their literary possibilities .... Although many of the results would not perhaps shine 
with Shakespearean brilliancy yet we have listened to many choice thoughts that would 
otherwise never have had birth .... Our subjects for consideration and discussion have 
been historical, biographical, scientific, poetical, and political . . . 

—Dr. Ellis R. Shipp 


O, how we long to climb those hills, 
And quaff from out the sparkling rills, 
The honeyed nectar of our youth; 
For there it flows in limpid streams, 
Of which our fancy only dreams, 
Springing from wells of living truth .... 
— E. B. W. 

THE WORLD IN COMMOTION: Looking at the events transpiring around 
the world today, one must necessarily feel that with all the boasted knowledge of this 
century of civilization, the hidden paths of wisdom are obscure, and only found by a 
few, who look upward for light and search after eternal truth, as the prophets of old, 
and who were despised and scoffed at, but whose words were revered by later genera- 
tions, and if one would profit by such lessons he must beseech the Lord in all humility 
for guidance .... 

— Editorial 

GRANDMOTHERS: I hope you will all agree with the little girl who said she 
thought grandmothers were "a good plan." It ought to be so, for one generation is 
lifted on the shoulders of the one that goes before it .... I have felt lifted up and 
inspired by the good deeds of my ancestors .... 

— Julia Ward Howe 

ARMENIAN WOMEN: The Armenian women as a rule are fine looking with 
intelligent faces and womanly bearing ... as they increase in years their intelligence 
and good looks become more manifest. 

— Phoebe C. Young 

Page 372 

Woman's Sphere 

Ramona W. Cannon 

President of Relief Society, took 
part on two panels at the National 
Association of Practical Nurse Edu- 
cation meetings, in Chicago in May, 
and attended meetings of the 
American Mothers Committee, 
Inc., of which she is a board mem- 
ber, in New York City. 


Parowan, Utah, has been se- 
lected as Utah's Mother of the 
Year. Mrs. Dalton, mother of nine 
children, has been a teacher, mis- 
sionary, seamstress, writer, actress, 
and housewife. Mrs. Estella Brown 
Harmon, Afton, Wyoming, also a 
Latter-day Saint, and mother of 
eleven children, was awarded this 
distinction by her State. Mrs. Dal- 
ton and Mrs. Harmon will attend 
the meeting of the "Mothers" in 
New York City, where the Ameri- 
can Mother of the Year will be se- 

jyf ARGARET TRUMAN, gifted 
daughter of former President 
Harry S. Truman and Elizabeth 
Wallace Truman, was married in 
April at Independence, Missouri, to 
Clifton E. Daniel, Jr., a New York 
newspaper man, formerly of Zebu- 
Ion, North Carolina. Mrs. Daniel 
expects to continue with her career, 
but will not let it interfere with her 

guished Indian novelist, daugh- 
ter of Sir Benegal Rama Rau, for- 
mer Ambassador to Washington, 
has written a new novel Remember 
the House, which "does much to 
make the hybrid faces of India 
plainer to the Western eye." 

r^RACE KELLEY, American act- 
ress, became Princess of Mo- 
naco in April rites celebrated with 
European pageantry and festivities. 
Her husband, Prince Rainier III, 
is one of the few remaining heredi- 
tary rulers, and his gem-like princi- 
pality on the Mediterranean is 
considered one of the world's love- 
liest vacation resorts. 

OIRTHDAY congratulations are 
extended to: Mrs. Cynthia L. 
McClellan Bailey, Salt Lake City, 
one hundred; Mrs. Unity Knowles 
Chappell, Nephi, Utah, ninety-nine; 
Mrs. Catherine Melissa Hulet Dal- 
ley, Joseph, Utah, ninety-six; Mrs. 
Mrs. Elizabeth J. Day, Hunter, 
Utah, ninety-four; Mrs. Elnora 
Sorensen Hammond, Moreland, 
Idaho, ninety-three; Mrs. Elizabeth 
Mohr Felix, Logan, Utah, ninety- 
one; Mrs. Josephine Dickerson 
West, Pleasant Grove, Utah, nine- 
ty-one; Mrs. Charlotte Fawcett 
Beard, Henefer, Utah, ninety; Mrs. 
Minnie Hill Miller, Salt Lake City, 
ninety; Mrs. Emma Stembridge 
Staker, Marion, Utah, ninety. 

Page 373 


VOL. 43 

JUNE 1956 

NO. 6 

cJhe 126th iSlnnuai (church (conference 

''PHE 126th Annual Conference of 
the Church convened in Salt 
Lake City on April 6-8, 1956. It was 
a period of refreshment to tens of 
thousands of Latter-day Saints who 
heard the proceedings by radio and 
saw them by television originating 
with KSL and KSL-TV. The fifth 
session, the Priesthood meeting, 
had an attendance, made possible 
through closed circuits, of over 
30,000 bearers of the Priesthood in 
western states and Hawaii. The 
coverage of conference proceedings 
increases materially each six months. 

President David O. McKay, be- 
loved prophet who was marking his 
fiftieth year in service since becom- 
ing an apostle, presided and con- 
ducted all seven sessions of the con- 
ference. All members of the Gen- 
eral Authorities were present and 
participated, except for Elder Ezra 
Taft Benson whose duties as Secre- 
tary of Agriculture kept him at 
Washington, D.C. President Jo- 
seph Fielding Smith delivered the 
Church of the Air Address over 
CBS on the "Significance of the 
Atonement. " 

After stating some outstanding 
accomplishments of the Church 
since the October 1955 conference, 
President McKay urged and coun- 
seled the saints: 

I feel constrained ... at this opening 
session to make an appeal for more sta- 
bility, more harmony and happiness in 
home life .... 

To the young people of the Church, 
particularly, I should like to say first that 

Page 374 

a happy home begins not at the marriage 
altar, but during the brilliant, fiery days 
of youth. The first contributing factor 
to a happy home is the sublime virtue of 
loyalty, one of the noblest attributes of 
the human soul .... It means fidelity to 
parents .... 

Next to loyalty to parents, I should like 
to urge loyalty to self .... Keep true to 
the best, and never let an hour of indul- 
gence scar your life for eternity .... 

Next under that heading of loyalty, 

Next to loyalty as contributive to a hap- 
py home, I should like to urge CON- 
TINUED COURTSHIP, and apply this 
to grown people. Too many couples have 
come to the altar of marriage looking up- 
on the marriage ceremony as the end of 
courtship instead of the beginning of an 
eternal courtship .... 

The next contributing factor to your 
happv marriage I would name is SELF- 

Marriage offers an opportunity to share 
in the love and care of children, and that 
is the true purpose of marriage .... 

In conclusion, for the proper solution 
of the great problems of marriage we may 
turn with safety to Jesus, our Guide. He 
declared, as I read in the beginning, that 
marriage is ordained of God and that only 
under the most exceptional conditions 
should it be set aside .... 

It will not dissolve when sealed by the 
authority of the Holy Priesthood through- 
out all eternity. The marriage ceremony, 
when thus sealed, produces happiness and 
joy unsurpassed by an other experience in 
the world .... 

ORESIDENT Stephen L Rich- 
ards "in the spirit of the broth- 
erhood and the love which the 
gospel of our Lord inspires/' de- 

Repentance was always, and is, a part 



of the law and the Gospel plan, and the 
mercy which the Savior brought is es- 
sential to the doctrine of repentance and 
and to the administration of the laws of 
God. The fine balance between the two 
is preserved for us in the great principle 
that mercy shall not rob justice (Alma 
42:25), nor justice mercy .... 

Every single commandment, stern as it 
may appear to some, is in reality an ave- 
nue to the glorious realm of peace and 
happiness. But repentance is an out- 
standing principle of mercy and love and 
kindness, attesting the concern and love 
of the Father for his children, for in the 
final analysis, he gave his Beloved Son, 
not alone to redeem us from the effect of 
transgressions which lay heavy upon the 
whole race of men, but also to give to 
us the inexpressibly glorious opportunity 
of repenting of our own individual trans- 
gressions, so that we might again come 
back into his presence clean and forgiven, 
through the precious gift of repent- 
ance .... 

Just as repentance is a divine principle, 
so is forgiveness .... If we were more 
liberal in our forgiveness, we would be 
more encouraging to repentance. Some- 
one has said that the supreme charity of 
the world is in obedience to the divine 
injunction, "Judge n °t • • • •" 

Let no brother or sister in the whole 
family of God feel that he or she has 
gone beyond the point where error and 
sin may be left behind and true repent- 
ance enlighten the soul with hope and 
faith .... 

What the world needs is a repentant 
world, and you may be assured there is 
no enduring happiness in anything but 
goodness .... 

PRESIDENT J. Reuben Clark, 
Jr. 'with deep humility," ad- 
dressed himself to the saints: 

It is a trite expression that we live in 
an age of materialism, a materialism which 
has enthroned worldly things and in a 
materialism that has cast a shadow even 
over our spirituality. As I see it, one of 
the great reasons for this is the shadow 
which we have cast over Jesus as the 
Christ . . . they deny to him that he was 
and is the Christ. 

Of all of the innumerable testimonies 
regarding his personality, I should like 
to call your attention only to two or three. 
The first is the great prayer which he of- 
fered on the night before his crucifixion 
.... "And this is life eternal, that they 
might know thee the only true God, and 
Jesus Christ whom thou has sent." And 
the testimony of Peter before the Sanhed- 
rin, when challenged as to the name by 
which he had performed the miracle at 
the Gate Beautiful of the Temple, he re- 
plied: "by the name of Jesus Christ of 
Nazareth ... for there is none other 
name under heaven given among 
men, whereby we must be saved" 
(Acts 4:10-12) .... 

And that testimony embodied in that 
great declaration of the Father himself to 
Moses, because it is the epitome, the 
summary of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. 
"For behold, this is my work and my 
glory — to bring to pass the immortality 
and eternal life of man . . . ." 

His Gospel can be lived, can be en- 
joyed by the poorest of us, the poorest 
of us may enjoy the blessings of the Gos- 
pel, the blessings of the Priesthood which 
accompany it. We need neither worldly 
position nor wealth in order to enjoy all 
that he has to give. His is the salvation 
and exaltation, if we follow him, of all 
of us. There is nothing requiring more 
than a broken heart and a contrite spirit, 
and all that flows therefrom .... 

It is a glorious privilege to live in 
a day when the gospel has been re- 
stored and the saints are permitted, 
twice a year, to gather and hear the 
word of the Lord to them. Of all 
people on the face of the earth most 
blessed are those who know that 
God lives, that Jesus is the Christ, 
that Joseph Smith was a prophet of 
the Lord, and that President McKay 
is the prophet chosen by the Lord 
for this day. This knowledge is 
available to all who would seek it 
and brings the blessings of heaven. 

-M. C. S. 



Summer VUork lileetinas 

TT is the desire of the general board that a work meeting be held each 
month, as heretofore, during the summer period, June through Sep- 
tember 1956. 


[Diamonds and [People 

Celia Luce 

held a diamond in the sunlight. It sent sparkles of rainbow hues in every direction. 
It took ordinary sunlight and reflected it back in a thousand beams of beauty. 

I know people who are like diamonds. They take ordinary life and give to it a 
sparkle of beauty. They do more than just what is expected, and are always finding 
ways to make life glow with happiness for those around them. They add color and 
sparkle to everyday life, changing it from a drab existence to a glorious adventure. 

Many of us are like a mirror, instead of a diamond. We give back to the world 
just what is expected of us, mirroring back what the world insists on. We too seldom 
add the sparkle of though tfulness. We could reflect back the golden shine of the 
glowing sun, if we chose. But that is too much trouble. We do well what is ex- 
pected of us, but no more. 

Some of us are like a black cloth. It absorbs most of the light and gives back 
very little to the world. It is selfish. It is no coincidence that black is the color of 
trouble, grief, and death. 

May God help us all to find the diamond sparkle. 

Page 376 

is its own Reward 


Is its own reward 

And these are Its rewards ; 

feaee of mind 

The tove of loved ones 

A good nsroe 

A qui«! conscience 

The confidence .of family 4 friend* 

The strength Of personal purity 

The trust of your children 

The sense of purpose in life here 

An assurance of everlasting life 

with those you love $ of peace 

and tmittess progress hereafter 
All this is yours for 

keeping the commafldmenfs 
Be true to your friends, your family 

your Father in Heaven 

in other *ords - - 

Be Honest With Yourself 

VIRTUE is its own reward 

There is more to marriage than music and moonlight; 
there is trust . . . and sharing . and being loved and deserv- 
ing to be. 

There is companionship through years of growing up and 
growing old together. 

And to each partner in an honest marriage there will 
come a time when nothing will be more important than per- 
sonal purity. 

And it will not be just at some passing hour — but day 
after day, year after year — as long as you look at your loved 
ones — as long as you can feel, in reality or in memory, the 
small hand of a son or daughter as it closes around your 

You — each of you — should take no less to marriage 
than personal purity. 

You have a right to expect it of the companion you choose 
— you have a sacred obligation to keep it and to offer it in 

The rewards of virtuous living are rich and enduring, 
but the price of sin runs high. 

The reward of virtue is a quiet conscience — the right to 
answer every question without reservation — the right to look 
everv man squarely in the eye, and every boy and girl and 
woman also — without an accusing conscience. It is the right 
to pass on to your children and your children's children a 
clean record, a clean heritage, a good name. 

You cannot cheat. You cannot avoid consequences. So 
be virtuous. 


Commencing with this inspir- 
ing message to its young men 
and young women, the Church 
takes a significant step forward 
in its crusade to teach and en- 
courage high moral and ethical 
conduct among its members. 

The key to this new series 
of inspirational sermonettes is 
largely one of "self interest" in 
the true sense. Its central theme 
is "Be Honest with Yourself." 
When our young people — and 
those who are not so young — 
learn the age-old lesson that vir- 
tue, like honesty, temperance, 
and clean, healthful, happy liv- 
ing are right because they are 
good for the individual and for 
society, the world will be a bet- 
ter place. 

Page 377 

IKecipes Qjrom Central J/lmenca 

Submitted by Gladys K. Wagner 

Guatemala has many dishes in common with its neighbor, Mexico. However, 
it uses fewer spices and seasonings. It, as most all Central American countries, also has 
a variety of dishes that might seem strange to North American tastes, such as: baked 
iguana (a kind of lizard), armadillo, and an abundance of turtle eggs. 

Honduras resembles Mexico rather strongly, but with American and European 
variations. Most' of the local food is based on the Mexican staple dishes: beans, rice, 
tortillas, etc. 

El Salvador's big meal is at noon and usually consists of a seemingly endless 
variety of courses, with beans and rice forming the staples, much as potatoes in our own 
North American menus. 

Nicaragua, banana country atmosphere, is much like Salvador. "Heavenly Ba- 
nanas" is likely to become your family's favorite recipe. Local "tamales" are called 
"nacatamales" and are of the chicken and pork filled variety. Many times these also 
include shrimp, turkey, olives, and fish. 

Costa Rica dines unhurriedly, as a rule, with meals and refreshments seldom more 
than three hours apart. "Elote" (green corn boiled in the husks) is a vvelcome change 
from the ever-present rice. 

Panama, the crossroads of the world, has food that is cosmopolitan — Spanish, 
French, American, slightly international and occasionally Panamanian. The one favorite 
dish is "Sancocho," the renowned soup-stew of all the Latin countries. 

Frijoles — (Black Beans) 
Used throughout Central America 

Soak 1 cup of black beans overnight; next morning boil with 1 onion and a piece 
of salt pork until they are done. Put through a sieve, food chopper, or mash thorough- 
ly, until they form a heavy paste. Add a piece of garlic, salt, and pepper, fry the beans 
until dry, using a small amount of oil for frying. 

Maduro en Gloria 
(Heavenly Bananas) 

4 tbsp. butter 4 tbsp. sugar 

6 firm bananas 1 tsp. cinnamon 

X A lb. cream cheese 1 c. heavy cream 

Melt the butter in a skillet. Peel the bananas and slice each one lengthwise. Brown 
quickly in the butter over high heat. Place half of the banana slices on the bottom of 
a buttered pie plate. Cream the cheese until it is very soft. Add the sugar and cinna- 
mon, beating until light and smooth. Spread half of the mixture on the bananas. 
Place the remaining banana slices on top; then spread with the remainder of the cream 
cheese mixture. Pour the heavy cream over the top. 

Bake in a 37 5 ° oven for 20 minutes or until almost all the cream is absorbed and 
the top is slightly browned. Do not allow all the cream to be absorbed, or the bananas 
will be too dry. If desired, some whipped cream may be served on the bananas. 

Page 378 



(Meat and Vegetable Stew) 

2 onions, chopped 

3 cloves garlic minced 

4 tbsp. chopped parsley 
3 coriander seeds 

i bay leaf 

3 tbsp. lemon or lime juice 

i tbsp. salt 

i tbsp. pepper 

2 lbs. pork cut into l-inch cubes 

1 lb. beef cut into l-inch cubes 

2 oz. ham cut into small cubes 
l tomato, chopped 

3 potatoes, peeled and cubed 

1 Vz c. cubed squash or pumpkin 

2 green bananas, sliced Vi inch thick 
i Spanish-style sausage (Cherizo) 

Place the onions, garlic, parsley, coriander seeds, and bay leaf in a bowl. Pound 
until very fine in texture. Add the lemon juice, salt and pepper, and mix to a smooth 
paste. Place the pork, beef, and ham in a saucepan and add water to cover. Add the 
onion mixture and stir well. Cover and cook over low heat for i Vz hours. Add the 
potatoes, squash, and sausage and cook for 20 minutes. Add the banana slices and 
cook 25 minutes. Season. Serve in deep soup plates. 

Ejotes Envueltos en Juevo 
(String Beans with Egg) 

2 lbs. fresh string beans 
1 Vi tsp. salt 

2 eggs separated 

fat for deep-fat frying 

Wash the string beans and cut off the ends, but leave them whole. Cook with 
water and salt until almost tender. Drain. Divide the beans into 6 bunches, and tie 
each bunch together with white sewing thread. Beat the egg yolks well. In another 
bowl beat the egg whites until stiff but not dry and fold them into the yolks gently but 
thoroughly. Dip the bunches of string beans into the egg mix, coating them on all 
sides. Heat fat in a deep saucepan to 375 degrees. Drop the beans into the fat. Fry 
until light brown, about 2 minutes. Drain. 

Gallo en Chica 
(Rooster in "Chieha") 

1 large rooster, cut for frying 

2 lbs. chopped ripe tomatoes 
4 onions, chopped 

Vi lb. dried prunes 

2 pieces garlic 
6 tbsp. fat 
Vi tsp. black pepper 
salt to taste 

Ingredients for making "Chieha" 

1 c. warm water 
Vi tsp. dry yeast 

1 c. brown sugar 
1 c. vinegar 

To prepare "chicha," mix vinegar and water with brown sugar and yeast in glass or 
similar container and allow to stand at room temperature for 4 to 6 hours. 

When "chicha" is ready, fry in frying pan the pieces of rooster in fat till brown; 
then place meat with fat in pressure cooker. Add tomatoes, onions, garlic, salt, and 
pepper, and cook in open pressure cooker for 1 5 minutes, stirring constantly. Add the 
prepared "chicha," close the pressure cooker and cook at 15 pounds pressure for 25 
minutes. Open cooker and add dried prunes and cook in open pressure cooker to con- 
sume half the water (approximately half hour). Serve with "Chapin Rice." 


Chapin Rice 

2 c. rice 4 c. hot water 

2 ripe tomatoes, cut in pieces l carrot, cut in strips 

i onion, cut in pieces l pimiento chili, chopped 

i pieces garlic Vz c. raw peas 

3 heaping tbsp. pork lard Vi c. raw string beans, cut 
2 tsp. salt 

Fry rice in lard with tomatoes, onion, and garlic for 10 minutes; add other vege- 
tables and fry additional 5 minutes, stirring to keep from burning. To this add the 
hot water and mix together with salt. Cover and leave cooking on low flame for 30 
minutes. Do not remove lid or stir until done. When cooked, fluff by gently turn- 
ing rice with spatula. Serve with "Gallo en Chicha." 

The rice can be prepared without carrots, peas, string beans, and pimiento chili, 
for serving with fried beans or other foods. 

(These last two recipes "Gallo en Chicha" and "Chapin Rice" were submitted by 
Sister Carmen O'Donnal of Mazatenango, Guatemala.) 

///*/ of ait h in L^od 

Alice Lyman Welling 

I know he lives who knows me best, 
And how in eagerness I try 
To bear my share of bitterness 
Without complaint, or tear or sigh. 

My faith in God makes gray skies blue; 
It lifts the clouds above my head 
And bids them move, that rays of light 
Reveal a faith, alive, not dead. 

So with this gift so precious, rare, 
May I not fail with service pure, 
But minister to souls who faint 
That my salvation will be sure. 

JLong-JLost Q/nenas 

Maude Rubin 

With house all neat, no garden to tend — 
Fresh cookies baked, dressed-up, I mend .... 
But I sew alone till that day's end — 
Without one friend. 

Next day I decide to plant some roses .... 
When I'm wet and muddy from leaky hoses, 
Freckled and sunburned (at least, my nose is!) 
Here come my friends/ 

when lllothers [Reputation Was at Stam 

Nedra Stone Nickell 


Y mother was loved by all 
who knew her as a good 
neighbor. Forty or fifty 
years ago, in a pioneering commun- 
ity, this title was not easily achieved. 
It meant being on hand at times 
of birth, sickness, death, accident, 
and distress with whatever quality 
of soul and skill the occasion de- 
manded. It meant giving of one's 
time and substance freely, neither 
of which was plentiful. 

Mother was a dark, slight, quick 
woman, with no wasted motion. 
Without conveniences, she was an 
excellent cook and housekeeper, 
tended a profitable garden, raised 
chickens and turkeys, was a "green- 
thumber" with shrubs and flowers, 
canned, preserved, and pickled, 
made cheese, soap, quilts, and rag 
rugs, sewed and darned, and cared 
for her husband and four children- 
all of which was a part of her being 
a good neighbor, for she shared the 
results of her labor, even father and 
us, when the situation required us. 

To Mother, the most prized pos- 
sessions were a good name and a 
generous heart. These ideals were 
drilled into her children throughout 
the years. Honesty, dependability, 
virtue— prerequisite to a good name 
—were not so hard to assimilate, 
with her and Father's constant ex- 
ample, but the generous heart 
proved sometimes quite a problem, 
and not one of us ever reached 
Mother's status in this respect. 

"Give the best that you have, 

even all that you have, if another 
needs it more than you," was the 
motto by which she lived. 

When a neighbor's cow died, 
leaving the children without milk, 
they were presented with the very 
best cow we owned. I remember 
thinking, Now, why couldn't it 
have been old Dolly, the one who 
gives me so much trouble when I 
herd them on the hills, or old Nell, 
whom Father hates to milk because 
she's a little short on the action end, 
as he says. 

But, no, that would never have 
suited Mother. It had to be the 

Then there were the times when 
I was called upon to share my store 
of dolls and other playthings with 
some less fortunate child. Mother's 
method of presenting a case was 
always convincing, which enabled 
me to give some things quite free- 
ly, but that best was one I never 
could surmount in my childhood. 

Saturday was Mother's big baking 
day. Generous quantities of edibles 
were prepared to tide us over Sun- 
day, so that we could all go to 
Church and still serve a bounteous 
meal to the playmates and friends 
of various ages whom we invited 
home to dinner through the years. 

A BOUT a mile and a half from 
our homestead an old Danish 
widower, named Dan Olsen, lived 
with his young son. Coincidently or 
arranged, every Saturday he journey- 
Page 381 



ed to town to replenish his supplies. 
On his return he always dropped in. 
I watched eagerly for his one-horse 
buckboard to appear, for he never 
failed to bring me a nickel sack of 
candy, in those days a just reward 
for any childish effort. When ready 
to leave, he was heavily laden with 
warm, fresh bread, and pie, cake, 
cookies, or whatever was the order 
of the day. 

When his son, who was then 
twelve years old, broke his leg, 
Mother insisted on bringing the boy 
to our already overcrowded home 
to nurse him until it healed. He 
was given the best bed in the house, 
where he lay for a month. I re- 
member hearing Mother and Fa- 
ther up with him night after night 
soothing his pain. It was three 
months before he was able to re- 
turn to his father. 

About two years following this 
incident, Mr. Olsen suddenly 
stopped coming to our home. Can- 
dy hungry, each Saturday I watched 
anxiously for his buckboard, but 
each Saturday he passed by with his 
head turned the other way. 

Of course, Mother was very up- 
set. The second time this hap- 
pened she called to him as he 
passed, but he never stopped or 
seemed to hear her. Then she be- 
gan inquiring of the neighbors, if 
they knew the reason for his 
strange behavior. The report was 
that he had stopped speaking to 
everyone. He just didn't like peo- 
ple anymore and repulsed all at- 
tempts at friendliness. 

Soon after this we learned that 
he had named his cows after the 
women of the community. Natural- 
ly, we children managed to see the 

one he called "Cora," after Mother. 
She was red with vicious-looking 
horns and a stubby tail. Father 
thought this was a good joke and 
gently kidded Mother about it. We 
youngsters saw some humor in the 
situation, also, but we didn't dare 
say anything because to Mother it 
wasn't funny — it just did some- 
thing to her good name, and when 
the subject was mentioned, a tear 
or two would sometimes fall. 

However, her generous heart was 
undaunted. Every week, through 
the spring, summer, and fall of my 
seventh year, laden with food, I 
trudged the mile and a half to Mr. 
Olsen's home. 

AT times, the food arrived in a 
somewhat doubtful state. Being 
a farmer's daughter and a child of 
nature, I found much to allure me 
from a quick delivery. There were 
flowers to pick on the hillside, 
birds' nests to search for in the 
sagebrush, and a pleasant time could 
be spent sitting with bare feet in 
the dust of the road, sniffing the 
various, glorious smells of the 
countryside — the damp, sweet odor 
of earth and new green shoots of 
willows along the ditchbank, the 
wafted perfume of lilac and plum 
blossoms, the tantalizing scent of 
new-mown hay. Then, too, I was 
reluctant to reach my destination; 
among the children of the com- 
munity there was the rumor that 
the old man was crazy and might 
do us harm — and I was just plain 

Eventually, however, it had to be 
done, so I would timidly approach 
the house, set the food on the 
porch, call Mr. Olsen's name until 



he came to the door, then run as 
fast as I could until I was out of 
breath. He was a small, quick man, 
with reddish unruly hair and a gen- 
erous moustache of the same hue, 
and I always pictured him pursuing 
me with these flowing in the wind, 
but I hadn't the courage to look 
back to alleviate my fears. 

T ATE that fall word came to us 
that Mr. Olsen was ill. Mother's 
indignation melted at once, and she 
ordered my brother to hitch the 
horse to the buggy. 

"I must go to him, even if he 
doesn't like me," she said, busily 
tying on a clean apron and gather- 
ing her supplies, while giving my 
sister instructions for taking charge 
at home. "I can't leave an old man 
alone with only a boy to care for 
him; it just isn't neighborly." 

So, laden with home remedies 
and more food, she and I set forth. 

When we reached our destina- 
tion, Mother's steps were firm and 
resolute as she marched without 
hesitance to the door. Mine were 
timid and dragging, as I followed 
behind, my arms holding, with re- 
luctance, a home-pressed cheese and 
a dressed stewing hen. 

We found Mr. Olsen ill with a 
bad cold. He was too sick to ob- 
ject to Mother's ministrations, 
which she assumed at once, making 
him clean and comfortable and ap- 
plying the remedies of pioneer life. 
While he slept and the chicken 
cooked, she cleaned the house — 
with some help from me, ironed 
shirts, and then sat down to sew on 
needed buttons. 

Mr. Olsen awakened in the late 

afternoon, feeling much better. He 
looked at Mother strangely for a 
few minutes, while a tear slid slowly 
down his roughened face and nest- 
led in his graying moustache. "You 
are a good, kind woman," he said. 
"I am a mean and foolish old man. 
I quit for speaking to my neighbors 
because they are too good to me 
and I do nutting in return. That 
is not the vay to show I am grateful. 
I vas so wrong. I vill do better." 

Mother smiled at him. "You were 
a foolish one," she said, as she ar- 
ranged the tempting tray of food 
before him. "Don't you know it 
makes us happy to help you?" She 
hesitated, at a loss for words. "But, 
tell me . . . ." Her face flushed a 
little, "How could you call a cow 

The old man grinned and said 
nothing for a moment, while his 
moustache moved rhythmically up 
and down. "Oh, those cows!" he 
chuckled. "May, she is the bossy 
vun, alvays throwing her head and 
chasing the others. Dottie, she is 
the so stubborn, selfish vun — she 
holds up her milk; half of the time 
she only gives me half of her milk. 
But that Cora . . . ." A fond light 
crept into his eyes, "She is the good 
and generous vun. All that she has 
is mine." 

I glanced up at Mother. She wore 
her "all's right with the world" ex- 
pression. Her good name was in- 
tact. She and the cow were kindred 

Apparent, also, was a decided 
twinkle in her eye, which was a 
probable indication that she could 
now laugh with Father over this 
one. I, too, was feeling happy, with 
visions of little sacks of candy again. 

Lsltff dromes of the ^/tncients 

Nell Murbarger 

VANISHED civilizations and 
ruined cities of the Old 
World undoubtedly represent 
the ne plus ultra of archeological 
significance, but nowhere in the 
world are there known cliff dwell- 
ings of larger extent, or more elab- 
orately constructed, than those 
found in our own Western United 

Preeminent among those cliffside 
dwellings are the ancient apartment 
houses now preserved in Mesa 
Verde National Park, in southwest- 
ern Colorado. 

Discovered to science in 1888 
and granted national park status 
fifty years ago, the seventh to be 
established among our twenty-eight 
national parks, Mesa Verde has 
since played host to hundreds of 
thousands of persons who have 
gazed upon her fine, old ruins in 
amazement, and have carried away 
with them a greater realization of 
America's antiquity than they had 
ever before known. 

On this well-forested tableland, 
nearly a mile and a half above sea 
level, and 2000 feet above the sur- 
rounding Mancos Valley, men were 
living possibly as long ago as the 
beginning of the Christian era! As 
long as 1200 years ago, these Mesa 
Verde dwellers were tilling fields 
of corn, squash, and beans; were 
fashioning handsome baskets and 
decorated pottery, and weaving fine 
cotton cloth. And nearly 1,000 
years ago, these same ancient dwell- 
ers began construction of the in- 

Poge 384 

credible series of stone-masonry 
apartment houses of which the larg- 
est and finest was magnificent Cliff 
Palace, 300 feet in length, with 202 
dwelling rooms situated on eight 
floor levels, plus twenty-three kivas, 
or ceremonial chambers! 

In addition to unknown numbers 
of these great cliff cities, which 
were built inside open-faced caves 
in the nearly sheer walls of the can- 
yons, the ancient inhabitants of 
Mesa Verde had built plateau vil- 
lages, as well. No one knows how 
many ruins of both types are sit- 
uated within the park boundaries, 
but the number of major cliff ruins 
has been loosely estimated between 
300 and 400; and as each of these 
ruins formerly sheltered from a few 
to several hundred Indian inhabit- 
ants, the aggregate population of 
the area must have been consider- 

After the ancient Mesa Verdens 
had resided in their pit houses on 
the plateau, and in their great cave 
palaces for 1,000 years or more, evil 
days fell upon their colony. The 
year 1276, or near that time, ac- 
cording to archeological calcula- 
tions, saw the beginning of a 
twenty - four - year drought cycle. 
With not enough rain falling to 
maintain life in their fields, to sup- 
ply drinking water to wild game, or 
to develop the nutritious kernels in 
pine seeds and acorns, hunger came 
to stalk the land; and as springs and 
other water sources disappeared, 
the people of Mesa Verde began 



Nell Murbarger 


drifting away to' the Rio Grande 
Valley and the highlands of present 
day New Mexico and Arizona. 

By a.d. 1300, Mesa Verde is be- 
lieved to have been completely de- 
serted by her people. Without 
hands to maintain them, the great 
cliff palaces fell eventually into par- 
tial ruin; and between the last foot- 
fall of the departing Indians, and 
the first white discoverers of the 
canyonside cities, there passed near- 
ly six centuries when the only liv- 
ing beings to occupy these rooms 
are believed to have been the furred 
and feathered creatures of the wild. 

'pODAY finds Mesa Verde's great 

apartment houses in a state of 

picturesque ruin, but with a major 

portion of their walls still standing. 
No admirer of antiquity can fail to 
be impressed by the architectural 
handwork of these ancient builders 
who flourished so many generations 
ago. That many of these stone 
masonry walls— laid without mor- 
tar, perhaps more than four cen- 
turies before the discovery of 
America by Columbus — are still 
as straight and true as if laid by 
modern stonemasons, speaks well 
for the intelligence and native abil- 
ity of the men. 

In addition to the several out- 
standing cliff ruins open daily 
throughout the summer season to 
ranger-escorted visitors, many other 
interesting ruins are visible from 
two rim drives, which may be 



travelled either in one's own auto- 
mobile, or in hotel-operated con- 
veyances available at nominal cost. 
The park's admission fee of one 
dollar covers use of all park roads, 
free camping or picnicking privi- 
leges in a large, pine-shaded camp- 
ground with wood, water, and other 
conveniences; and free admittance 
to both park museums. These in- 
clude a museum of natural history, 
and an archeological and ethno- 
logical museum featuring dioramas 
and exhibits which provide the most 
important single aid to understand- 
ing the human pre-history of the 
region. Visitors to the park will 
find it to their advantage to spend 
some time in the latter museum, 
both before visiting the ruins and 
again afterward. 

To auto travelers, Mesa Verde is 
readily accessible over paved high- 
ways from every part of the coun- 
try — the recommended routes from 
Salt Lake City and vicinity being 
U.S. 50 and U.S. 160; and from 

Denver and the East, U.S. 50 and 
160, or over U.S. 85-87 and 160. The 
side road to the park leaves U.S. 
160 about midway between Cortez 
and Mancos, Colorado, from which 
point park headquarters lie nineteen 
miles distant, at an elevation of 
6,965 feet. From the highest point 
in the park (8,575 feet) it is pos- 
sible to view 14,000 square miles 
of the famous "Four Corners 
Country. " 

Visitors not desiring to camp, 
will find motel cabins and house- 
keeping tents available for rent dur- 
ing the summer season (generally 
from about May 15th to November 
1st.) During this same period park 
facilities include stores selling gen- 
eral supplies and souvenirs, a res- 
taurant, gasoline station, and stables 
where riding horses may be rented. 

Inquiries concerning rates, reser- 
vations, and other information, 
should be addressed to Mesa Verde 
Company, Mesa Verde National 
Park, Colorado. . 

1 1 ill (garden 

Catherine E. Berry 

My garden wears upon its face 

The bloom of poppies, Queen Anne's lace 

To frame its locks of iris blue, 

And zinnias of every hue 

To star its flowered Sunday gown, 

With marigolds to make a crown. 

And Canterbury bells will ring 
Whenever winds of twilight sing, 
Pale moonflowers open in the night 
When four-o'clocks have closed up tight; 
And when the dawn has tinged the skies 
My garden opens rosebud eyes. 

1 1 lake Cshtldren s (clothes Cbconomically 
id ^Professionally 


Ivie Huish Jones 

KNOWING exactly how much 
material to buy to make a 
certain article of clothing is 
an art worthy of cultivation. Plan- 
ning ahead, and taking into consid- 
eration some of the fundamental 
principles of proper cutting tech- 
nique, is a means of helping to keep 
within the family clothing budget. 

Manufacturers know that their 
profit lies in careful cutting to fit 
the pattern to the goods instead of 
the goods to the pattern, thus pro- 
ducing little or no waste. From the 
president of a large manufacturing 
company, I learned, at an early age, 
one of the most valuable lessons of 
my life on cutting garments. Open- 
ing a room filled with scraps, he 
fairly shouted: "Here is my profit. 
If you can cut the garments I want 
without all this waste, the job is 
yours/' Designing patterns so that 
the scraps from one piece fit exact- 
ly onto another, is the secret. 

When yardage is limited, even in 
home sewing, accurate cutting is im- 
perative. If the garment is to be 
reproduced several times, as is usual- 
ly the case with Relief Society sew- 
ing, make the pattern of heavy pa- 
per or light-weight cardboard and 
make the pattern exact. Guessing 
at the size or allowing too much 
material for the seams, then fitting 
later, is wasteful of both time and 

Estimate Needed Yardage 

Taking advantage of sales, rem- 
nants, and samples can prove real 

economy or it can be a wasteful ex- 
penditure of clothing money. We 
find many widths of material today. 
It is well to determine how much 
material to buy of the different 
widths. Most commercial patterns 
give these estimates, but they may 
be based on less accurate cutting. 

Using the corner of a table as a 
starting point, or a bed if the table 
is too small, measure the width of 
the material to be purchased and 
place one yardstick down at that 
width. Then place the second 
yardstick down, marking half the 
width of the material, pretending 
that the material is folded double. 
Whenever possible it is well to cut 
all pieces double as this prevents 
such calamaties as cutting both 
sleeves for one arm or both pants 
fronts for one leg. Now adjust the 
pattern in that space and then 
measure the length to buy of the 
different widths of material. If the 
pattern requires one yard and four 
inches, why buy a yard and three- 

Combining Short Length Materials 
The patterns shown here were 
used by Relief Society sisters for 
materials purchased on one of those 
"take it or leave it" sales. There 
were six hundred samples of good 
quality rayon and cotton gabardine, 
forty-five inches wide and eighteen 
inches long, in every color of the 
rainbow. These were folded cross- 
wise, simplifying the cutting. No 
two were exactly alike in both tex- 

Poge 387 



ture and shade, but this only added 
interest, for it made necessary the 
combining of colors which often 
adds attractiveness, especially to 
children's clothing. Combinations 
of rich gray with blues, soft tans 
with browns, pink hues with rose or 
red, or the many different shades of 
green, were pleasing. 

Cutting the boy's shorts out of 
eighteen inches of material was in- 
teresting, for it was like balancing 
a budget. There was just so much 
cloth, no more, no less. The one 
half yard made a pair of shorts up 
to sizes six to eight. With forty- 
five-inch material, one could choose 
between three different styles: 
shorts with a bib and suspenders; 


The model is Robert E. Jensen 

four years old 

shorts with set-in pockets and a 
belt; or shorts with trimmings to 
match a loose sport coat. 

For marking around the pattern 
onto the cloth, leftover pieces of 
soap may be used in place of tail- 
or's chalk. 

After marking around the pattern 
carefully, pin each piece of the pat- 
tern on the material to prevent the 
material from slipping while cut- 
ting and also to keep the different 
pieces together. Cut carefully on 
the marks. 


Making men's and boys' clothes 
is an easy task and satisfactory, too, 
if the technique of good tailoring is 
adhered to. Every seamstress knows 
something about tailoring so the 
entire process need not be given 
here. A few short-cuts, however, 
might prove helpful. In general, the 
real secret of good tailoring is: 
accurate cutting; straight sewing; 
handling and turning as little as 
possible; and pressing as you sew. 

There is nothing complicated 
about making a pair of boy's shorts 
and they may be given a tailored 
look even when using cotton ma- 
terials. Have the fronts plain or 
pleated, never gathered, and haye 
pressed in creases. Sew and press 
each leg separately and you will be 
pleased with your tailoring job. By 
all means fell the side seams of 
washable materials. Press after each 
operation, using light-weight brown 
paper, such as thin paper sacks or 
paper bags from the cleaners. Place 
the paper over the part to be 
pressed, and then moisten the paper 
with a wet sponge. Be sure that 
the iron is not too hot. Sew up 
the legs on the machine, and hem 







i i t 

SIZE 6 i 





1 1 

! V ^-v 1 


FRONT Of TKOUbtKt) J^r , 
1 SIZE fe K o < 

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the bottom by hand, using the lock 
hemming stitch which is so desir- 
able for children's clothes because 
it does not unravel. 

For convenience and effectiveness 
in giving the final pressing, use two 
small magazines about the size of 
The Relief Society Magazine. Leave 
one magazine flat and roll the oth- 
er, covering each with brown wrap- 
ping paper. Inside seams of sleeves 
and legs should be pressed over the 
rolled up magazine while the flat 
one should be inserted into the leg 
while the hem is being pressed. 
This presses the upper side without 
wrinkling the under side or leaving 
the marks of the hem. Men and 
boys could use this idea to advant- 
age when pressing the cuffs on their 

Before sewing the two legs to- 
gether, give them the final pressing 
touch. Placing the under leg seam 
exact with the side seam, makes the 
creases fall into position and look 

like father's trousers. Press well, 
using the dampened paper. Sew 
the two legs together and flat fell. 
Also keep that tailored look by giv- 
ing special attention to the waist- 
band or waist hem. 

Turn the hem at the top of the 
shorts one inch and pin or baste. 
Stitch on the top edge, not one- 
fourth inch away but on the edge. 
Cut a piece of one-half inch cotton 
tape, not bias— or a straight strip 
of material, two inches longer than 
from crease to crease in the front of 
the shorts. Attach to this tape suf- 
ficient good quality elastic, one- 
half inch wide, to make a circle to 
fit the child's waist. Pin the tape 
carefully on the under side of the 
hem between the creases, being 
sure to place the middle of the 
tape at the center seam. On the 
sewing machine, stitch the tape or 
straight piece material down firmly 
to the under side of the hem only. 
This keeps the waistline straight 



across the front. Now turn under 
the hem one-fourth inch, beginning 
across the front. Keep the elastic 
well up into position. On the sew- 
ing machine turn under the hem 
over the elastic a little way at a 
time. Push the gathers as it seems 
necessary, always doing so when the 
presser bar is down firmly and when 
the needle is in the goods. With 
a little practice a professional job 
will result. No stitching will show 
on right side of shorts. Remember 
collars are much easier to attach 
before the side seams are sewed up. 
Proceed with the coat or jacket 
as you would in making a man's 

shirt, shoulder seams first, then at- 
tach the collar and add front fac- 
ings. Sew in the sleeves and flat 
fell if the material is to be washed. 
The coat part fits up onto the sleeve 
instead of the sleeve onto the coat. 
Fold the fronts together evenly and 
mark the position of the pockets, 
then sew them into place while the 
garment is open. Press well before 
sewing up the side seams, and there 
will be little pressing necessary 
when the coat is finished. 

Buy the right amount of material, 
cut carefully, stitch straight, and 
press well, and tailoring will be a 

Illortar for the littles 

VerJa R. Hull 

Silence may be golden, 

But never seems to be 

When no dear friend across the miles 

Takes time to write to me. 

So I have the post-card habit, 
For letters, digest form. 
Now gainful waiting-moments 
Can keep my friendships warm! 

(-//! a Sleepless Summer I Light 

Beulah Huish Sadleir 

You have deigned to show me love 

As new as each awaited moon 

Upon its rising date. 

The white rose blooming by the door 

Breathes life through every silvered pore. 

The dampened grass is therapy to 

Soul and feet — and 

While there is no sleep — the thought 

Of you dispels such loneliness 

As might be here. 

There Is Still Time 

Chapter 5 (Conclusion) 
Margery S. Stewart 

THE girl obeyed meekly. She 
lay still while Elizabeth ad- 
justed the straps, but when 
they waited for the elevator she 
lifted her eyes. They were blue 
and clear, like a child's, and full of 
pain and fear. "If my mother were 
only here .... or someone. I don't 
want to lose my baby." 

Elizabeth was swept with pity. 
She took the girl's hand, held it 
tightly in her own. She smoothed 
the hair back from the girl's fore- 
head. "Listen, my child, and don't 
be afraid. This doesn't mean you 
won't have your baby next time. 
Sometimes these things happen. 
But next time will be different. Just 
keep remembering that." 

The girl clutched her hand. "Bill 
and I want a baby more than any- 
thing else in the world. We were 
so happy." 

"You just pray as hard as you 
can, and I'll pray with you and 
everything will be all right. I prom- 
ise you." 

The girl sighed, relaxed. "You 
sound just like my mother. That's 
what she would say." 

Elizabeth took her upstairs, re- 
membered at the last moment to 
pull the mask over her face, forgot 
to leave the chart at the desk, but 
remembered the operating room. 
Gentle nurses took the girl, wiped 
away her tears, murmured encour- 
agement. The girl looked back to 

"Thank you. I feel strong now. 
I'm not afraid." 

Elizabeth went back to the chart. 
She reached for the chalk and 
crossed out the name of Mrs. Ma- 

Mrs. Malouf, too, was alone. She 
was a large, silent woman. But on 
the elevator she opened her eyes. 
"Hold a thought for me," she said. 

"I will," Elizabeth said firmly. 
"I certainly will." 

She watched the elevator doors 
open before her. She pulled up 
her mask. This is a little job, she 
thought, not very important, but 
I'm so glad ... so very glad I have 
it. To walk even a little way with 
someone in need is happiness deep- 
er than I have ever known. 

It was three o'clock before she 
knew it. The nurse who had helped 
her with the uniform came to her. 
"You'll come tomorrow?" 

Elizabeth nodded. 

"Thank goodness! Tired?" 

"A little. I can rest when I go