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H APPY New Year to each and all! A glad, prosperous year ahead is 
our wish for you. Success in your undertakings, happiness in your 
homes,. peace in your lives, and joy in your souls is our prayer for 
you. Faith in great abundance, a deep, abiding testimony, a motivating 
desire for greater spirituality, a stirring longing for gospel knowledge 
is our hope for you. 

"Lift up your hearts and be glad, for I am in your midst, and 
am your advocate with the Father; and it is his good will to give 
you the kingdom." This great promise given by the Lord to the 
Prophet Joseph Smith is a promise to the worthy who are willing to 
work in his kingdom. The Lord speaks of the gospel as the "voice 
of gladness" and as "glad tidings of great joy." His instruction "that 
ye are chosen out of the world to declare my gospel with the sound 
of rejoicing" gives us the realization that only in righteous living is 
there true happiness and cause for rejoicing. 

How full of joy our lives are meant to be! Yet joy and happiness 
are of our own making. The secret of happiness lies within us. Some 
do not understand that to possess happiness one must pay the price 
in loving kindness, in devoted service, and in uplifting goodness. All 
of us have experienced failures and have made mistakes. Let us bury 
them in the unretraceable past, keeping only the wisdom derived 
from such experiences to guide our future. The New Year will be 
prosperous and happy if we make it so. 

The first day of the calendar year is one of the oldest of festivals. 
Its celebration is well-nigh universal. Dear sisters all over the world, 
as you celebrate the New Year, as is your custom, remember that 
our beloved Relief Society binds us together in a great, loving sister- 
hood. Its organization under the inspiration of our Father in heaven 
was for this purpose and to make us "one" in his service. 

The New Year is rich in the promise of glorious opportunities. 
Let us make the most of them! 



I have been a subscriber to The 
Relief Society Magazine ever since it 
was printed, and my mother always 
took the Womaris Exponent, so it is 
needless to say how much I appreciate 
the publication. It is part of my life. 
I have had responsibility in Relief 
Society almost all my adult life. I 
appreciate the wonderful articles and 
sermons in the Magazine. The poetry 
and stories are excellent. I have a 
little slogan that I think applies to 
Relief Society: There's a wealth of 
satisfaction in a labor well done, and 
a sense of great achievement when 
many work as one. 

— Mrs. Janette Crapo Miller 
St. Anthony, Idaho 

Truly The Relief Society Magazine 
is a missionary in very deed. It has 
opened the door for me into conversa- 
tions which have led into wonderful 
gospel discussions with those of other 
faiths on many occasions. 
— Ethel Lewis 
Ogden, Utah 

I must thank you for the wonderful 
article in the October issue of The 
Relief Society Magazine, by Mary M. 
Ellsworth, "A Message to Young 
Mothers," a most inspiring and prac- 
tical article which my friends and I 
have enjoyed. 

— Mrs. Claren Jorgensen 

Corte Madera, California 

Thank you for the wonderful Relief 
Society Magazine. They are so pretty, 
with their colors, that they put sun- 
shine into my days. After we finish 
our lessons on the Doctrine and Cove- 
nants, I hope we can study another 
of our standard works. 

— Patricia A. Leader 

Troy, Montana 

I am especially impressed with "A 
Message to Young Mothers," by Mary 
M. Ellsworth in the October issue of 
The Relief Society Magazine. I am 
going to try hard to follow the counsel 
given in this article. Thanks to Sister 
Ellsworth for the profound wisdom 
she displays in this article. Her lovely 
family is fortunate to have a mother 
with ideas of this kind. Also, I want 
to say thanks to Maxine Grimm for 
the article on "Ironing Out the Wrin- 
kles," and I have been trying to use 
my ironing time to iron out my weak- 

— Joan Garrard 

Oakland, California 

Many thanks for The Relief Society 
Magazine and Mary M. Ellsworth for 
the inspiring "Message to Young 
Mothers" in the October issue. Most 
of us try to grasp and absorb frag- 
ments of wisdom to help us over our 
trying times, but these fragments are 
sometimes hard to find and to call to 
mind when we really need them. So 
here we have been given a whole store- 
house of practical help which I, for 
one, am going to keep in front of me 
to memorize and draw upon when the 
need arises. 

— Nina Panes 
Ontario, Canada 

I wish it were possible for the sisters 
who write all the wonderful things in 
our Magazine to visit the Relief So- 
cieties and let us meet them. Our 
Magazine could not possibly be the 
help and inspiration it is to so many 
mothers, old and young, if it were not 
for our wonderful sisters who are 
planning for our benefit. To me the 
Magazine is a messenger, bringing a 
message of courage, help, and good 

—Lola B. Walker 
Monterey, California 

The Relief Society Magazine 


Editor Marianne C. ShEirp 
Associate Editor Vesta P. Crawford 
General Manager Belle S. Spafford 

Special Features 

1 Happy New Year! General Presidency 

4 Purpose of the Relief Society Joseph Fielding Smith 

6 John Fitzgerald Kennedy 

8 Award Winners — Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest 

9 The First to Go — First Prize Poem Alice Morrey Bailey 

10 Verdure — Second Prize Poem Hazel Loomis 

11 Quo Vadis? — Third Prize Poem Margery S. Stewart 

13 Award Winners — Annual Relief Society Short Story Contest 

14 Moment of Trust — First Prize Story Mary Ek Knowles 
25 The New March of Dimes The National Foundation 

35 What Is a Work Meeting Leader? Sylvia Lundgren 


20 Carol's Christmas Adelle Ashhy 

29 The Lost Star Hazel K. Todd 

43 Kiss of the Wind — Chapter 7 Rosa Lee Lloyd 

General Features 

2 From Near and Far 

25 Woman's Sphere Ramona W. Cannon 

26 Editorial: The Day of the Lamanite Marianne C. Sharp 
28 Notes to the Field: Bound Volumes of the 1963 Magazines 

50 Notes From the Field: Relief Society Activities Hulda Parker 

80 Birthday Congratulations 

The Hoi. •'"'* Ou? 

37 Playtime Recipes Janet W. Breeze 

38 Ear Huggers Are Nice Shirley Thulin 

40 Stretching the Food Budget — Part IV — Dried Beans 

Marion Bennion and Sadie O. Morris 
42 Delia Gleed's Hobby Is Making Gifts 

Lessons for April 

57 Theology — Missionary Service Roy W. Doxey 

62 Visiting Teacher Message — "Wherefore, Be Not Weary in Well-Doing" 

Christine H. Robinson 
64 Work Meeting — Planning the Family Wardrobe Virginia F. Cutler 
66 Literature — Sinclair Lewis, American Self-Satirist Briant S. Jacobs 
72 Social Science — The Opportunity and Responsibility of a Calling 
in Church Government Ariel S. Ballif 


Give Me These, by Elsie F. Parton, 5; Exile, by Gilean Douglas, 49; First Heartaches, by 
Gladys Hesser Burnham, 79; Camoes, by Dorothy J. Roberts, 79; Precious Moment, by 
Verda P. BoUschweiler, 79. 

The Cover: Winter in Grand Canyon, Arizona, by Claire W. Noall, lithographed in full 
color by Deseret News Press; Frontispiece: Snow and Shadows, by Harold M. Lambert; 
Art Ijayout by Dick Scopes; Illustrations by Mary Scopes. 

Published monthly by THE GENERAL BOARD OF RELIEF SOCIETY of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. © 1963 by 
the Relief Society General Board Association. Editorial and Business Office: 76 North Main, Salt Lake City, Utah 84111; Phone EMpire 
4-2511; Subscriptions 2642; Editorial Dept. 2654. Subscription Price $2.00 a yeor; foreign, $2.00 a year; 20c a copy, payable in ad- 
vance. 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 retoined for six months only. The Magazine is not responsible for unsolicited manuscripts. 

Purpose of the 
Relief Society 

President Joseph Fielding Smith of The Council of the Twelve 

[Address Delivered at the Relief Society Annual General Conference, 

October 2, 1963] 

As I stand here looking into your 
faces, this brings to me wonder- 
ment, and I wonder if the Prophet 
Joseph Smith saw in vision the 
sight that I am beholding here 
this morning. 

On the 17th day of March, 
1842, the Prophet Joseph Smith 
met with a number of the sisters 
of the Church in Nauvoo and or- 
ganized them into a society which 
was given the name of "The Fe- 
male Relief Society of Nauvoo." 
Besides the appointment of of- 
ficers, the Prophet Joseph Smith 
gave the sisters general instruc- 
tions, quoting from The Book of 
Mormon and the Doctrine and 
Covenants. The detailed instruc- 
tion of this opening session was 
not recorded, but it had to do 
primarily with the responsibility 
devolving upon the sisters of the 
Church in the care of the poor, 
the sick, and the afflicted. That 
this organization was by revela- 
tion, there can be no doubt. This 
truth has been abundantly dem- 
onstrated throughout the years 
and today its value and necessity 
are abundantly attested. 

No bishop in the Church could 
carefully and efficiently care for 
the many wants of his ward with- 
out the help that comes from this 
wonderful organization. 

In his journal, March 24, 1842, 
the Prophet Joseph Smith wrote 
that he again met with the Relief 
Society. The record states that 
there was a very "numerous at- 
tendance." On this occasion the 
Prophet pointed out in some de- 
tail the purposes of the organiza- 
tion, saying that knowledge of 
the pure principles of humane, 
philanthropic benevolence could 
flow continuously from the 
bosoms of the sisters in behalf 
of strangers, the distressed, the 
widows and orphans, and make 
their hearts rejoice. He said: 

Our women have always been sig- 
nalized for their acts of benevolence 
and kindness; but the cruel usage that 
they received from the barbarians of 
Missouri, has hitherto prevented their 
extending the hand of charity in a 
conspicuous manner; yet in the midst 
of the persecution, when the bread has 
been torn from their helpless offspring 
by their cruel oppressors, they have 
always been ready to open their doors 
to the weary traveler, to divide their 
scant pittance with the hungry, and 
from their robbed and impoverished 
wardrobes, to divide with the more 
needy and destitute; and now that 
they are living upon a more genial 
soil, and among a less barbarous 
people, and possess facilities that they 
have not heretofore enjoyed, we feel 
convinced that with their concentrated 
efforts, the condition of the suffering 
poor, of the stranger and the fatherless 
will be ameliorated (DHC IV, 567-68). 


From this humble start under Christ of Latter-day Saints never 

the most difficult conditions, could have been cpmpletely or- 

when the membership of the ganized. 

Church was small, we have seen We, the Brethren of the 
this Society grow until it spreads Church, honor and respect our 
over most of the civilized coun- good sisters for their unselfish 
tries of the world. The good that devotion to this glorious cause, 
has been accomplished in the We stand to lend encouragement 
care of the poor, care of the sick and in every way possible to lend 
and the afflicted, and those who assistance where assistance is re- 
are in physical, mental, or spirit- quired for the success of the 
ual need, will never correctly be j^glief Societies of the Church, 
known. This, however, need not Qur prayers ascend in your be- 
be our concern. The main mterest ^^^^ ^ ^^^ .^^ ^f ^j^^ Lord 

lies m the fact that all oi this , .,1 , . u 

11 T u J j-i» u be with you always to buoy you 

has been accomplished through , . '^ ^ ., i 

the spirit of love in accordance ^P ^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ strength and 

with the true spirit of the gospel courage in this wonderful depart- 

of Jesus Christ. It is clear to see ment of the Church, I humbly 

that without this wonderful or- pray in the name of the Lord, 

ganization. The Church of Jesus Jesus Christ, Amen. 

Give Me ^i^ese 

Elsie F. Parton 

Give me a pen, the ardent pen of hope, 

That I may write no word of doubting fear, 

That weak men may be strengthened in their trust 

And strong men stand convincing and sincere. 

Oh, give to me the fallen crumbs of faith 

That lie unheeded on the marbled floor. 

That I may mold them into firmer shape 

And give them power, greater than before. 

Give me a pen, the ardent pen of hope. 

That glowing words may rouse some weary mind 

And light the flames of courage in some breast 

When hopeless eyes have made the vision blind. 

Oh, give to me the scattered crumbs of hope 

That I may place them in a crystal bowl 

And find in each, a gleaming ray of light 

To brighten and enrich the downcast soul. 

Give me a pen engraved with charity. 

That I may write with eloquence my part 

And give to men a symphony of love, 

A joyful melody within the heart. 

Give me a spacious world that I may plant 

In fertile soil, the leaven of these three. 

Where men may reap the fruitage of these vines — 

Strong faith, firm hope, and boundless charity. 

John Fitzgerald Kennedy 

On Friday, November 22, 1963, while riding in an open car in 
Dallas, Texas, President John Fitzgerald Kennedy, age forty-six, was 
shot and fatally wounded. His young wife Jacqueline Bouvier Ken- 
nedy was in the car with him. President Kennedy, a native of New 
England, and son of a distinguished and closely knit family, was of 
Irish descent, the first Roman Catholic to become President of the 
United States, and the youngest man ever to preside as Chief Execu- 
tive. His untimely and tragic death cast sorrow across many nations 
as leaders of the Free World grieved for their departed champion. A 
sad symbol of lost leadership was the riderless horse which followed 
the caisson in the processions of the final rites. 

Mrs. Kennedy, thirty-four, mother of two living children, Caro- 
line, six, and John F. Kennedy, Jr., three, evidenced great devotion, 
self- control, and courage of a high order during the days of mourning 

and the final rites. She walked behind the flag-draped casket on its 
journey from the White House to St. Matthew's Cathedral, as did 
some other members of the family and the visiting heads of States. 
At the graveside she lighted a torch which is to burn perpetually at 
the head of the grave. 

Immediately following the announcement of President Kennedy's 
death, President David O. McKay of The Church of Jesus Christ of 
Latter-day Saints issued a statement for the Church: 

''I am deeply grieved and shocked beyond expression at this 
tragedy. In behalf of the Church in all the world I express sincere 
sympathy to Mrs. Kennedy and children and all of the close relatives 
and friends. The entire nation feels a sense of humiliation that such 
a tragedy could come to a President of the United States. Only a 
few weeks ago it was our privilege to entertain the President and now 
to think that he has gone we are stunned as well as shocked. It is 
terrible to think that such a tragedy could occur in this age of the 
world. Our prayers go in sincere and earnest appeal to the Almighty 
that he will comfort the nation in this hour of tragic grief.'' 

President McKay appointed First Counselor Hugh B. Brown to 
represent the Church at the funeral services in Washington, D.C. 
In Salt Lake City, Utah, the Tabernacle Choir presented with beauty 
and solemnity a memorial concert, and, on the day of the funeral. 
President N. Eldon Tanner presided at a moving and impressive 
memorial service in the Tabernacle. 

Thirty-fifth President of the United States 1917-1963 

Vice President Lyndon Baines Johnson of Texas took the oath 
of office an hour and a half after the death of President Kennedy, an 
impressive demonstration of the wisdom of the Founding Fathers in 
their provision for continuity of office in the Presidency of the United 
States. Former Presidents of the United States, Harry S. Truman 
and Dwight D. Eisenhower attended the services and diplomatic 
representatives and heads of States from ninety-two nations. 

The body of President Kennedy was laid to rest in Arlington 
National Cemetery, across the Potomac, not far from the Lincoln 
Memorial and the sad and brooding statue of the Great Emancipator. 

President Kennedy's statement of courage and patriotism voiced 
in his Inaugural Address, less than three years before, was many times 
repeated: "Ask not what your country can do for you, but rather 
ask what you can do for your country." 

The Relief Society General Board is pleased to announce the names 
of the three winners in the 1963 Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest. This 
contest was announced in the May 1963 issue of The Relief Society 
Magazine y and closed August 15,1963. 

The first prize of forty dollars is awarded to Alice Morrey Bailey, 
Salt Lake City, Utah, for her poem "The First to Go." The second 
prize of thirty dollars is awarded to Hazel Loomis, Casper, Wyoming, 
for her poem ''Verdure." The third prize of twenty dollars is awarded 
to Margery S. Stewart, Pacific Palisades, California, for her poem 
''Quo Vadis." 

This poem contest has been conducted annually by the Relief 
Society General Board since 1924, in honor of Eliza R. Snow, second 
General President of Relief Society, a gifted poet and inspirational 

The contest is open to all Latter-day Saint women, and is de- 
signed to encourage poetry writing and to increase appreciation for 
creative writing and the beauty and value of poetry. 

award winners zi,^^ 

Prize-winning poems are the property of the General Board of 
Relief Society, and may not be used for publication by others except 
upon written permission of the General Board. The General Board 
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 consecutive years must wait 
two years before she is again eligible to enter the contest. 

Mrs. Bailey appears for the fifth time as a winner in the Eliza 
R. Snow Poem Contest; Mrs. Loomis is a first-time winner; and Mrs. 
Stewart is a third-time winner. 

There were 330 poems entered in the contest for 1963. Entries 
were received from thirty-six of the fifty states, including Hawaii, 
with the largest number, in order, coming from Utah, California, 
Idaho, Arizona, Oregon, and Washington. England, Canada, Australia, 
Wales, Scotland, and Peru were also represented among the entries. 

The General Board congratulates the prize winners and expresses 
appreciation 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, together with photographs and brief high- 
lights on the prize-winning contestants, are published in this issue 
of the Magazine. 


he First to Go 

Alice Morrey Bailey 


The valiant one has gone ahead, alone, 
Against all wisdom, out beyond the known, 
Since Adam drew the first cold, mortal breath 
And drank the air which yields both life and death 
The first to see or feel, the first to know 
The answer to some quest, the first to go 
Driven by some dream, some will to learn. 
Along some path which may have no return. 
What boon does he require, what priceless lures 
Are greater than his life, that he endures 
The desert's stretching thirst, the arctic's ice. 
The scorn of learned ones, the sacrifice 
Of dedication? What is so sublime 
He burns in full his precious oil of time? 


The bold adventurer has combed the earth 
And spanned its oceans, circumscribed its girth, 
Sailing out beyond the dragon belt. 
He planted altars where his sons have knelt. 
And raised his nation's flag upon the poles. 
Each gain revealing newer, farther goals. 
He battered down tradition's ancient bars 
And looked with fear and longing on the stars. 
What restless blood impels a man to stand 
Where man has never stood, some far-off land, 
A towering mountain peak, an ocean floor? 
What instinct leads him to an unmarked door 
To pick and pry, to fumble and to knock 
Until the grudging stores of truth unlock? 


The seeker after truth proclaims his find 
Among the bright adventures of the mind. 
He measures, weighs, and bends his scrutiny 
On unseen continents, his mutiny 
Is stirred by failure, death, disease and pain 
And one by one these enemies are slain. 
He forms his theories and tests their flaws 
And proves the mighty ways of nature's laws. 
His silhouette is bold against the light 
Of brighter dawn, and he the shining knight 
Whose sharp stiletto point can slit the tent 
Of ignorance, and through its widened rent 
All men may pour. And soon they, too, shall fly 
Among the stars for he has pierced the sky. 



Hazel Loomis 

So small between the pink pearls 

The fire opal clouds and the mare's tail swishing high, 

I ran barefoot in the curling sands. 

Every part of me was Sabbath then. 

Praise rose from the flesh — cool shadows 
Fanning sun . . . the bleeding currant bushes 
Where I came 
To mother's singing steps. 

Father close on prophet wheels, 

Blue dancing from his eyes 

To pleasant sheets of green . . . falling in swathes 

With each purring round. 

I ran, the sun safe in my arms, 
To father's chuckling boost on Jetta's back 
Fast strapped — I now was Sweeper of the Sky 
Chief Rider of the Dappled Mare! 

The lamb — soft days with Jetta — 

She was lute and David — Jubilee 

Of hooves and hair — of clinging mane — my horse 

And I lived there. 

Time wore ribbons as I swung 

From cliff to cliff 

Below the green valley where weasels raced, 

Snakes grew long, and dragon flies 

Fanned willow fronds. 

Four fingers young. I wrote my name 
And sifted rocks the ants had made. I watched 
The stovepipe for the reindeer swoop. Awaited 
The lingering orange and the doll with hair. 

The world grew and I, too, 

With barns stuffed green — 

With cows and buckets and milk foam 

Washing the golden paths. 

Night came purring on lion's feet — until 
A coyote's siren ripped the shrouds apart 
And morning broke as bulls locked horns 
To fight it out on crimson sod, 
While I stood puny on the green lawn. 

Ample squaws with smiling teeth 

And midnight eyes 

Clothed in blankets striped with fire, came 

And going carried the sun . . . the stars . . . and me 

To the slender road ... up the giant hill .... 

Farewell, my green and gallant freedom 


Margery S. Stewart 

Quo Vadis? 

They say that Peter 

Fleeing his cross, 

Plodding through midnight 

On the Appian Way, 

Was halted by an angel, 

Who asked gently, "Quo Vadis? 

Quo Vadis, Peter?" and the words 

Made a gate. 

When I was a child 
Pondering this story 
I was resolute, 

No two words would keep me 
Or hold me from going 
Where the cross was not, 
Would send me to the 
Irrefutable hammer and the 
Splintering wood. 

With all my childish strength 
I leaned down years 
Urging Peter on, past angel. 
Past anguish . . . slow blood 
Rusting on the nails .... 
Oh, hurry, hurry, Peter! 
What manner of angel 
Brings a riddle at the hour 
Of one's death? 

But I have learned 

That all disciples come 

Soon or late 

To that same midnight and 

The angel's cry . . . 

Even I 

Most shabby follower. 

Quo Vadis is a gate 

Opening to a touch ... to where? 

To what? 

Without him what way is there? 

Peter's answer was his turning back. 



Alice Morrey Bailey, a versatile and gifted writer, has been a repeated 
winner in the Relief Society literary contests. She won first prize in the short 
story contest the year of its initiation, 1942, and has won three times in sub- 
sequent years. This year's award in poetry places Mrs. Bailey as a winner 
for the fifth time. Other poems (many of them frontispieces) , as well as stories, 
articles, and three serials of hers have appeared in the Magazine. Mrs. Bailey 
is a member of the Sonneteers (a poetry workshop), the Utah Poetry Society, 
and the League of Utah Writers, in which she has served as chapter president 
and a member of many executive committees. She has been a judge in several 
literary contests and a featured speaker at various conventions. 

Her many other talents and abilities include sculpture, music, painting, 
secretarial and administrative work, and nursing. 

Mrs. Bailey's Church work has included positions in all the women's 
auxiliaries. She is the wife of DeWitt Bailey, and they have three children 
and twelve grandchildren. 

Hazel Loomis, a well-known Wyoming author, has been represented in The 
Relief Society Magazine by many outstanding poems. She was born in Verdure, 
Utah, and grew up in Monticello. She attended Brigham Young University as 
well as other universities. Mrs. Loomis has been twice married. Her first 
husband was killed in an accident, and she is now married to Ray Loomis, a 
chemical engineer, who has a son in the graduate school at Denver University. 
Mrs. Loomis is an active member of the Casper Writers Club, and is interested 
also in music and art. Her writings have appeared in magazines of National 
circulation, and she writes short stories and plays, as well as poems. Active 
in positions of leadership in the Church, Mrs. Loomis is at present the stake 
literature class leader in Relief Society and is also a Sunday School teacher. 

IVIargery S. Stewart, a former Utahn, now lives in Pacific Palisades, California, 
where she is actively engaged in Church work and in literary activities. Her 
daughter Sandra Phelps and five grandchildren live nearby, and a son Russell 
Stewart, Jr. is a student at Santa Monica City College. A former member of 
the League of Utah Writers, and a present member in absentia of the Son- 
neteers, Mrs. Stewart is affiliated with the Ina Coolbrith Poetry Circle of 
California and recently won first prize in their annual contest. She also writes 
plays and articles. 

Mrs. Stewart has been represented in The Relief Society Magazine by 
frontispiece poems, articles, stories, and several excellent serials. She has won 
awards twice in the Relief Society Short Story Contest, and three times in 
the Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest. Her work has appeared in poetry anthologies, 
in magazines of National circulation, and she has achieved high rating in 
many contests. Mrs. Stewart expresses her love of literature as a continuing 
joy: "I have enjoyed the associations I have gained through writing and the 
constant challenge and delight of this form of expression." 


The 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 1963 issue of the Magazine, and which 
closed August 15, 1963. 

The first prize of seventy-five dollars is awarded to Mary Ek 
Knowles, Ogden, Utah, for her story ''Moment of Trust." The second 
prize of sixty dollars is awarded to Lael J. Littke, Monterey Park, 
California, for her story ''Mama Lives in the Kitchen." The third 
prize of fifty dollars is awarded to Myrtle M. Dean, Provo, Utah, 
for her story "Someone to Cheer for Johnny." 

The Annual Relief Society Short Story Contest was first con- 
ducted by the Relief Society General Board in 1942, as a feature 
of the Relief Society Centennial observance, and was made an annual 
contest in 1943. The contest is open to Latter-day Saint women who 
have had at least one literary composition published or accepted 
for publication in a periodical of recognized merit. 

award winners 


The three prize-winning stories will be published consecutively 
in the first three issues of The Relief Society Magazine for 1964. 

Seventy-three stories, the largest number ever submitted, were 
entered in the contest for 1963, including submissions from Canada, 
Australia, Wales, and England. Mrs. Knowles is a fifth-time winner 
in the contest; Mrs. Littke is a first-time winner; and Mrs. Dean is 
a fourth-time winner. 

The contest was initiated to encourage Latter-day Saint women 
to express themselves in the field of fiction. The General Board feels 
that the response to this opportunity continues to increase the 
literary quality of The Relief Society Magazine and aids the women 
of the Church in the development of their gifts in creative writing. 

Prize-winning stories are the property of the General Board of 
Relief Society and may not be used for publication by others except 
upon written permission from the General Board. The General Board 
reserves the right to publish any of the other stories submitted, 
paying for them at the time of publication at the regular Magazine 
rate. A writer who has received the first prize for two consecutive 
years must wait for two years before she is again eligible to enter 
the contest. 




Mary Ek Knowles 

First Prize- Winning Story 

Annual Relief Society 

Short Story Contest 

Bud came to Donna while she 
was fixing Patti's hair in rollers 
and listening to her read from 
the third grade reader. He asked, 
*'Mom, can you let me have five 
bucks tomorrow?" 

Donna had hoped that this 
moment would not come. She was 
aware of her son towering over 
her, tall and handsome with his 
brown eyes and crew cut. Bud 
was only sixteen but he had al- 
ways acted quite adult and 
sensible — until he fell in love with 
pretty Candy Thompson. 

'Tive dollars!" she cried, stall- 
ing for time, wishing that Sheldon 
was not in Portland on business. 
He would handle this problem 
calmly. She was inclined to be- 
come emotional. Her head was 
already beginning to ache. 

"Whatever for. Bud?" 

''The Spring Hop is tomorrow 
night and I'm broke." There was 
almost a note of surprise in Bud's 

Donna remembered that for 
over a month, ever since Bud 

earned fifteen dollars helping Mr. 
Brown move to his new hardware 
store, both she and Sheldon had 
been warning him, ''Remember to 
save your money for the big 

And she remembered with a 
hot rush of anger the way Bud 
had said casually, "Ah, don't 
worry. Mom. I know what I'm 
doing," as he continued to spend 
and spend money on popular 

Now she said firmly, "Your 
father and I warned you that if 
you spent your money foolishly, 
you would have to take the con- 

"But, Mom!" his voice cracked 
a little. "Things came up . . , ." 

"Like malts and hamburgers at 
Hoddy's," she interrupted, "and 
sessions at the bowling alley and 
two trips to the city." 

"But, Mom, if you want to 
keep a popular girl like Candy, 
you have to show her a good 

She remembered that this was 


Bud's first girl and she felt her- 
self weakening. Then she shook 
her head. "Candy knows you 
aren't the son of a millionaire but 
you have acted like one. In addi- 
tion to the fifteen dollars, you 
have spent your weekly allow- 
ance. ..." 

"You won't let me have the 
five bucks, then?" 

"No, Bud." She turned her 
head because she could not stand 
to see the white stricken look on 
his face, and there was a pound- 
ing in her forehead. 

"I've got to get five bucks 
somewhere!" There was despera- 
tion in his voice as he walked out 
of the room. 

Patti asked, "Isn't Bud going 
to take Candy to the dance?" 

"He can't, Patti. He has spent 
all of his money." 

"But, Mommy, Candy has a 
new dress for the dance. Joy told 
me." Joy was Candy's nine-year- 

old sister. "A white dress with 
yards and yards of fluffy white 
stuff in the skirt." Patti sighed. 
"Candy's awfully beautiful and 

And Bud is so completely daffy 
about her that he's knocked off 
his even keel, Donna worried. 
Maybe Candy would never date 
him again; and Bud — he had 
always taken discipline like a 
man, but this was different. Now 
someone would have to suffer 
because of him. 

She finished the last roller. 
"Off to bed, darling," she said. 

"Did I read all right, Mommy?" 
she asked. 

"You read beautifully." She 
kissed her small daughter, think- 
ing how uncomplicated were 
problems with a nine-year-old. 

It was after eleven when she 
went to bed, but she couldn't 
sleep. Once she almost telephoned 



Sheldon in Portland, but he 
would not relent, either. They 
had always been firm with Bud, 
knowing he was in that diffi- 
cult age where he was constantly 
testing them, demanding more 
and more that they give in to 
him, yet unconsciously, inconsist- 
ently, hoping they wouldn't give 
in, so that in a world where true 
values are taken lightly, he could 
depend on their unshakeable dis- 

At breakfast Bud looked so 
worried that her heart ached for 
him. She wanted desperately to 
give him the money. What was 
five dollars! But she knew it 
wasn't the money involved. He 
must take the consequences of 
his mistakes to become a mature, 
responsible adult. 

Bud got up from the table and 
a few minutes later when she 
lifted the receiver to telephone 
her grocery order, she heard him 
talking to Freddie Smith. She 
heard Freddie say, "So I charge 
high interest!" The gang resented 
Freddie. They called him Shylock 
because he demanded his pound 
of flesh for each penny loaned. 
Bud was really desperate if he 
would appeal to Freddie for a 

Mrs. Olafson, the cleaning 
woman, came then and Donna 
went with her to the basement 
to give instructions. When she 
came back upstairs, Bud had his 
jacket on. He said, ''Mom, listen. 
I . . ." And then Mrs. Olafson 
called from the basement. Donna 
went to the top of the stairs to 

see what she wanted, and when 
she returned Bud was gone. 

She was extremely busy after 
that. She was in the presidency 
of the Relief Society, and she 
called the members of the lunch- 
eon committee in regards to the 
opening luncheon and social. At 
eleven she was going to the ward 
to quilt, and so she prepared an 
oven meal for dinner, but busy 
or not, all the time she was hurry- 
ing and working she worried 
about Bud. How would he handle 
the situation with Candy! 

She was quilting when she 
discovered her coin purse was 
missing. Marge Griffin asked if 
someone had change for a dollar. 
Donna said, 'T have twenty dol- 
lars worth of change," and 
reached into her black leather 
bag. There was no coin purse. 

She began a frantic search, 
taking everything out of the large 
bag. Marge said, "Never mind. 
Sister Stacey has it." Donna said, 
"Oh . . . fine." And she sat there, 
a sinking feeling in the pit of her 
stomach, retracing her move- 
ments since the day before. 

She had gone to town and 
shopped. As she neared home she 
remembered that the cleaner 
would be returning Sheldon's 
slacks. She had stopped at Car- 
ter's grocery store and had the 
twenty dollar bill changed. 

She could remember hastily 
cramming the bills and small 
change into her large coin purse. 
The cleaner had driven up just 
as she stopped the car. She had 



paid him a dollar bill and forty the front steps but found nothing, 
cents. Then she had gone into And then, as she took her door 
the house, carried her handbag to key out of her handbag, she re- 
the bedroom. Then Sister Land- membered seeing the plastic coin 
ley had telephoned to ask the purse in her handbag when she 
name of the poem that the stake had gone through the same mo- 
Relief Society president had read tions the day before, 
at the monthly leadership meet- Maybe, absent-mindedly, once 
ing. she was in the house, she had put 
Donna could see herself carry- the purse somewhere else. She 
ing the bag into the hallway, plac- began a thorough search through 
ing it on the table, and taking out drawers, coat pockets, jackets, 
the slip of paper on which she cupboards, the linen closet, 
had written the name and author She pushed back her dark hair 
of the poem. She had left the with a trembling hand. Maybe 
bag there while she had checked her memory was playing tricks, 
a book of poems in the library to She could have thought she put 
see if she had that particular the coin purse in her bag, but 
poem. The purse was still on the instead had left it at Carter's, 
hallway table until she left this She could even have paid the 
noon. She thought. Bud would cleaner with loose change from 
have seen it when he telephoned the bottom of her handbag. 
Freddie. The contents were She hurried out and walked 
tumbled about, the money quite the half block to the store. Mrs. 
visible in the transparent plastic Carter distinctly remembered her 
coin purse. putting the coin purse in her bag. 
But Bud would never steal It had been a crazy hope. She had 
from me! She quickly pushed the known all the time she had paid 
thought out of her mind, horrified the cleaner with loose change 
at such disloyalty. from the coin purse in her hand- 
But where was the coin purse! bag. 
Her handbag was one of the new. She walked slowly home, 
large carry-all type, with straps. Candy Thompson came towards 
open at the top. Her arms had her. Candy was so young and 
been loaded with bundles. Maybe pretty with her glossy blond hair 
after she paid the cleaner she had and blue eyes. ''Mrs. Gardner," 
thought she was dropping the she said gaily, "will you please 
coin purse into her handbag, but tell Bud to call for me at seven 
instead had dropped it on the tonight? We're going to double 
ground. date with Betty and Archie." 

"I'll tell him. Candy." Donna 

She hurried from the ward to smiled stiffly and hurried home, 

her home, and once there she afraid she was going to burst into 

looked carefully from the curb to tears, remembering Bud saying 



desperately, "I've got to get five 
bucks somewhere!" 

But if he did succumb to temp- 
tation, he would only take five 
dollars, not the coin purse. But 
maybe there hadn't been time to 
do anything but grab the purse. 
Could he have hastily hidden it 
somewhere? She went to Bud's 
room. Her heart sank when she 
saw the closet in confusion, as if 
things had been hastily moved 
to find something, or to hide 
something. She had always re- 
spected her children's privacy, 
but now she searched everywhere 
for the purse, hating herself. 

Finally, trembling with exhaus- 
tion, she gave up, went to her 
room, and sank down on the bed. 
The evidence against Bud con- 
fronted her and she cried quietly. 
It was her fault Bud was a thief. 
She should have let him earn the 
money. The attic needed clean- 
ing. There were any number of 
jobs he could have done. She 
heard the front door open and 
Bud's and Patti's voices. Should 
she accuse Bud? Or would he 
admit the theft on his own? What 
had he wanted to tell her this 
morning? She heard music. She 
walked slowly down the stairs. 
In the hallway below Bud was 
teaching Patti to dance, counting 
patiently, his big feet slowed to 
her small ones. 

Donna reached the foot of the 
stairs, her throat tightening. 
Patti cried, "Look, Mom, Bud is 
teaching me to dance!" 

Bud laughed, "Me a dancing 

How could he be so gay! Better 
get the matter over with now. She 
said thickly, "Bud, I want to talk 
to you." 

He stopped dancing, "Yeah, 

She began, "Bud, how could 
..." and then she looked at her 
son with his wide grin, with his 
clean freckled face, his honest 
face, and shame washed over her. 
Bud was not a thief! Even with 
all the evidence against him, she 
did not believe it! 

She knew then that this was 
the moment of trust that all 
parents know at least once in 
their lifetime. That moment when 
overwhelming evidence is cast 
aside in favor of love and trust 
and blind faith .... 

Bud asked, "You sick or some- 
thing. Mom? Got a headache? 
Want an aspirin?" 

She stammered, "There isn't 
any. I have to . . . ." She stopped. 
But there was a whole box of 
aspirin on her bedside table! She 
had had a headache and had 
made a quick trip in the car to 
Wight's drugstore just before she 
went to bed. She had taken her 
coin purse out of her bag, slipped 
it into the pocket of her coat! 
Her worry about Bud had com- 
pletely driven the incident out of 
her mind. Her coat pocket was 
shallow. Could the purse have 
fallen out unnoticed on the seat? 

She turned and ran out the 
back door. Bud called, "Mom! 
Where are you going? I want to 



tell you something important." 
She opened the car door, felt 
along the front seat, her hand 
trembling. It was when she 
opened the other door that she 
saw the coin purse. It had slipped 
off the end of the seat onto the 
floor next to the door. Fortu- 
nately, she hadn't had occasion 
to open that door or it would 
have fallen out. She leaned 
against the car, her legs shaking. 

"You lose something. Mom?" 
Bud was standing by the car. 

She looked up at her son, so 
tall and yet so young, so terribly 
vulnerable and impressionable. 
Yes, she had almost lost some- 
thing precious. If she had failed 
that moment of trust in her son 
and had accused him, a bond 
between them would have been 
destroyed forever. Maybe Bud 
had borrowed the money from 
Freddie and it would take a 
year's allowance to pay it back, 
but Bud was not a thief! 

Bud said, "Mom, I had to have 
the money for the dance, and I 

knew you wouldn't give it to me." 
He grinned. "Old - brick - wall 
Mom. So I had to use the old 
brain, you know? I sold my track 
shoes to Skinny Peters. I almost 
tore the closet apart finding them. 
Hope it's okay?" 

Suddenly Donna's little world, 
which since yesterday had been 
spinning crazily, righted itself. 
Bud had got the money by his 
own ingenuity. She began to cry 
with relief. "Well, gosh. Mom, I'd 
outgrown them!" Still she cried. 
"Mom, did I say something 
wrong? I mean, calling you a 
brick wall? I'm glad you and Dad 
are like a brick wall, and . . . ." 

"I k-know and I'm h-happy 
you sold the sh-shoes and . . . ." 

"Then why are you crying? 

"Because 1 1-love you and . . . ." 

Bud shook his head. "Women 
are sure dopey." 

"Especially mothers. Bud," she 
laughed shakily. "Especially 

Mary Ek Knowles, Ogden, Utah, is well-known to readers of The Relief 
Society Magazine. Four of her prize-winning stories, as well as other contribu- 
tions, have previously appeared in the Magazine. She has received recognition 
from several magazines of National circulation where her stories have been 
featured. She is a member of the Blue Quill writers' club in Ogden, and a 
former State President of the League of Utah Writers. After receiving the 
letter telling her about winning the first prize in the contest, Mrs. Knowles 
replied: "Since winning the first prize before (1961), many things have 
happened to me. In August of 1962 my wonderful husband died after a long 
illness. . . . Then the following January my dear father died. . . . But, of 
course, there is much to be grateful for, my three wonderful children, my 
adorable grandson and granddaughter, my good friends, and my good health." 


Carol's Christmas 

Adelle Ashhy 

CAROL sat up and pulled the 
quilt around her. She didn't 
turn the light on. The glare 
of it would add a sharpness to the 
night, a sharpness and an awareness 
with which she didn't want to have 
to cope. The hour was late, but it 
wasn't dark outside. The first snow 
of the season floated earthward, and 
the moon was bright. She watched 
the whiteness grow in depth on the 
boughs of the gnarled apple tree just 
outside the window and wanted to 
be out. She knew the coolness of 
the winter night would help her 
separate her thoughts, but she didn't 
get up. She just sat there, quietly, 
not wanting to wake Hal. She sat 
there, remembering his warning and 
remembering Michael's eyes. 

Michael's eyes bothered her most. 
It was too late for Hal's warning, 
but maybe it wasn't too late to do 
something about Michael. If she 
only knew what the look in his eyes 
was trying to tell her. Sometimes 
Carol thought he was enjoying the 

pre-Christmas festivities, but when- 
ever she looked in his eyes, she knew 
he wasn't. And she wanted him to 
so very much. Sometimes he would 
look up and almost say something, 
but the words didn't come. 

Carol knew that part of the trou- 
ble was his loneliness for his parents, 
but there was something else . . . 
something dark and deep. 

It was wrong to force a new kind 
of Christmas on him, Carol thought, 
and she could hear Doris say, ''Hon- 
estly, Carol, you make so much of 
Christmas! There's no need to, you 
know. . . . No one does nowadays." 

Carol pulled the quilt up around 
her more snugly, and, in so doing, 
was reminded that even in the every- 
day things, she hadn't advanced 
much . . . not by most standards, 
especially those set up by Doris. The 
bright patches of the quilt shone out 
in the path of moonlight that 
played across her bed. She loved 
the ties, the memories of long ago 
that the patches brought to her . . . 



and she loved the old lace curtains 
in the living room, the doilies and 
the chairbacks on her furniture, and 
the braided rug in the hall. . . . 

So it was with Christmas at 
Carol's house. She and Hal had 
always made candy and gingerbread 
men, and poured wax candles, even 
before their six children came along. 
What was the word Doris had used? 

''Quaint," Carol repeated aloud, 
and Hal stirred and let his breath 
out in little mumbles. 

CAROL looked at him and 
smiled. ''Dear Hal," she whisp- 
ered, "you shouldn't spoil me so. If 
you didn't always let me have my 
own way, I would not get into some 
of the things I do." She slid down 
between the sheets and slipped into 
his arms. Then she remembered 
what he had said when she had 
asked him about taking Doris' chil- 
dren for Christmas. 

"Honey, you're asking for trou- 

"Oh, Hal, really . . . it's just for 
two weeks. Doris and Jim will be 
back the 27th. And I can't enjoy 
Christmas knowing those three are 
going to be alone." 

"They wouldn't be alone. Grace 
offered to take them. As soon as 
Millie told me her mother was worse 
and she would have to go home for 
the holidays, I called Grace. Any- 
how, it's more her place. . . . She 
is Doris' own sister, and you're. . . ." 

"I'm just their sister-in-law. . . . 
I know, but they're your sisters, and 
your nieces and Mike's your nephew 
. . . and it will be fun to give them 
a real Christmas. . . . Besides, Grace 

. . ." she hadn't finished, not out 
loud, but she said it to herself . . 
Grace is just like Doris . . . They 
would have the same kind of a 
Christmas with her . . . pies from a 
bakery, cold cuts from the grocery, 
and the shimmering, aluminum 
Christmas tree with every blue bulb 
and every icicle in its proper place, 
and never the touch of a child. 

"It will just be too much," Hal 
had continued, "nine children! You 
must be out of your mind to think 
you can manage. 

Carol had giggled. "Nine chil- 
dren!" she mimicked. . . . "Six of 
them are ours, remember? Anyhow, 
I wish it were a dozen! Oh, Hal, I 
want Susan and Janet and Michael 
to have what we have, just for one 
Christmas. They've never made 
popcorn balls, or gone Christmas 
tree hunting ... or dipped candles. 
... It will be so much fun to teach 

"It will be just plain work." 

"Will you mind?" 

"No, Carol, I won't mind, except 
that I don't want you to wear your- 
self out. . . ." 

"Then it's all settled. Anyway, 
the children know us better. Grace 
and Dave only get here once or 
twice a year. And I bet they'll be 
glad they won't have to make the 
long trip on the icy roads." 

Hal had put his hat on then, and 
as he bent to kiss her, he had said, "I 
don't know why you always have to 
take on the worries of the whole 
family, but it seems you do, so go 
ahead. Just remind me to remind 
my dear sister not to take a second 
honeymoon trip again unless they are 
sure they will be back before Christ- 



mas, or that the woman they hire 
will be able to stay." 

And he had gone out and Carol 
had begun the preparations. There 
were beds to change around, and 
clothing to rearrange to make room 
in the closets, and more shopping to 
do with the check Doris had left. 
Then one evening they went and 
got the children, and everything had 
seemed fine. Susan and Janet had 
been having the time of their lives, 
with Carol's two girls their age, but 
Michael. . . . 

Carol went to sleep then, with 
Michael's dark, searching eyes swim- 
ming before her. 

THE next few days were so full of 
laughter and wrapping and bak- 
ing and sewing, that Carol didn't 
have time to think. Hal had been 
right about all the children being a 
handful, but for the most part they 
were well behaved and she really 
was enjoying them. 

They popped mountains of fluffy 
white corn and strung some of it on 
long red string. They made platters 
of rich, nutty fudge and crisp amber 
peanut brittle. They glued yards of 
red and green paper strips together 
for chains, and several evenings they 
bundled up to go around and see 
the brilliantly lighted homes with 
animated figures and bells and trees 
. . . and everyone laughed and sang 
Christmas carols, and talked at 
once . . . everyone but Michael. 

Carol had been watching him, 
and hoping that he would come to 
her, but he didn't, and she knew his 
hurt had grown too big. 

One evening she had Hal take 
some of the children shopping and 

she put the little ones to bed. And 
when the shoppers came home they 
went in separate rooms and shut the 
doors to wrap their treasures. They 
stuck more Santa seals on the pack- 
ages than necessary, and used miles 
of silver ribbon. But Mike went 
into the living room and sat alone. 
Carol went in. He was so still, she 
hesitated to intrude, but she knew 
she had to. 

''Mike ... I guess things are pret- 
ty hectic around here, aren't they?" 

''Sorta. . . ." 

''Is there something you would 
like to tell me?" 

"No " 

Carol looked at him and felt his 
word hang heavy in the air. "Tell 
me about your Christmases. What 
do you do that you like the very 

He didn't answer. He just cleared 
his throat, and she knew he was 
close to tears. 

"Tomorrow's the day we go after 
our tree." Carol knew he wasn't 
really listening, but she went on 
anyway. "We used to go cut one 
ourselves, but they won't let us do 
that any more, so we start out early 
and visit nearly every place in town 
where they sell trees, and we stand 
them up one by one and look at 
them carefully. It takes us a long 
time to pick one sometimes, because 
Uncle Hal likes them tall and lean, 
and I like them short and fat, and 
Peggy and Dicky. . . ." 

QHE stopped. She knew Michael 

was crymg 

there were no 

tears, but she knew he was crying 
inside, where it's worse. She knew 
he would rather be alone, but she 



didn't go. Instead she went over 
to him and put her arm across the 
back of the couch behind him. 

"Mike, please, tell me. Are you 

''Sorta." he let the tears come 
then, and wiped them on the back 
of his hand. 

"Ym sorry. Maybe Aunt Grace. 

''Aunt Carol, do you always buy 
a green tree?" 

'Tes." And then she remembered 
the trees Doris always bought. . . . 
''But we don't have to. I mean, we 
could buy a silver one, and get all 
blue bulbs and. . . ." 

"No, please get a green one. Aunt 
Carol, are green trees old-fash- 

"I suppose they are. . . ." 

"Is being old-fashioned bad?" 

"I ... I don't think so. Maybe 
in some things it is. I mean, it 
would be pretty silly to keep a horse 
and buggy when you can have a 
car ... or it wouldn't be wise not 
to take the best of the new things, 
and the best of the old things. . . ." 

"Mom always says that you . . . 
that you make more work for 
yourself because you're old-fash- 
ioned. . . ." 

"I guess I do." Carol thought of 
all the bread and rolls and cakes she 
always baked, and the quilt tops she 
stitched and the fruit she canned. 
"I guess your mother's right, it sure 
can complicate things, some- 
times. . . ." 

"Aunt Carol." Michael wet his 
lips and began again. "Do you have 
a star for the top of your tree?" 

"No ... an angel. An angel with 
long, silvery hair." 

"Mom says that a star should 
always be on the top of the tree. We 
made a lot more work for you, didn't 

"You mean by coming here? 
Goodness, no. I wanted you. Aunt 
Grace was coming for you, but I 
wouldn't let her." 


"Really. I kinda thought. ... I 
hoped you'd like to make popcorn 
balls and ornaments and . . . but I 
guess all that is pretty silly, isn't 

"Aunt Carol, may I hang a couple 
of bulbs on the tree?" 

"You may do more than that. 
Uncle Hal always puts the lights on 
and the children have to do the 

"All of it? The icicles, too?" 

"Especially the icicles." 

"What if we get them all bunched 

"Who cares? We think it still 
looks pretty." 

"With them all bunched up?" 

"Especially when they're bunched 

CAROL left the room then. She 
said it was time to bathe the 
other children, but she really had to 
leave because her throat was tight, 
and her voice wouldn't act as it 

Maybe it isn't right to rear a child 
without letting him decorate a tree, 
but it isn't right to confuse him, 
either, and that's what she knew she 
had done. Confused Michael, and 
filled him full of doubts and ques- 
tions. . . . 

Carol bathed the children and 
dressed them in soft flannel night- 



clothes and brushed their hair, and 
wondered what was going on inside 
Michael. She wondered what he 
meant by asking about the star. The 
angel had been in her family for 
generations, but maybe having a 
star was important, though she 
couldn't see why. . . . 

Long after everyone was tucked in 
for the night, and long after she 
should have fallen asleep, she lay 
wondering about it and then it came 
to her. The story of the Wise Men, 
and the story of the Christ Child. 
And, along with remembering the 
story, a shame came over her. 

Somehow she had become so in- 
volved with the cooking and the 
making, that she had forgotten. 
Quietly, she slipped out of bed and 
went into the living room and went 
over to the little table where she 
kept her books. She found the 
Bible and turned the pages, and 
there in the dimly lighted room, she 
turned to the Christmas story, and 
then went to Michael's room. He 
was sitting on the edge of his bed 
looking out into the night. 

"Michael. . . ." Softly her words 
went to him, and he didn't move as 
he answered her. 


'Tve been thinking . . . you 
know, about the star. . . ." 

"I have, too." 

''Would you like me to read the 
story to you?" 

"You don't have a Bible. I looked 
in your bookcase, and I couldn't 
find one. Aunt Carol, could we go 
get mine? Mom told me to be sure 
and read the story each night before 
bedtime like we do at home." 

"I have a Bible, Michael. Mike, 
you know about my being old-fash- 
ioned? Well, I guess I'm really not 
old-fashioned enough. ... I had 
forgotten about the very first 

Michael turned on the night light 
and took the book from Carol. 
"May I read it?" 

And as he read the words in 
hushed tones, Carol knew that it 
didn't matter what color the Christ- 
mas tree was, or if the candles were 
homemade. It didn't even matter 
if the children were allowed to put 
the icicles on the tree, so long as 
they knew what Christmas was for 
... so long as they were told the 

New Serial to Begin in February 

A new serial YOUR HEART TO UNDERSTANDING, by Hazel Thomson, 
of Bountiful, Utah, will begin in the February issue of the Magazine. The 
setting for the story is picturesque San Bernardino, California, in the early 
days of its settlement, and presents the dramatic development of Selena Bald- 
win from a frightened and fearful girl into a woman of strength and courage 
who contends valiantly against a hostile environment and her own short- 
comings. Mrs. Thomson is a gifted and experienced writer whose serial 
"Because of the Word" delighted the readers of the Magazine in 1961. 



i n^ 9 

voman s 

.\J: 1. 

Ramona W, Cannon ^H 

Belle S. Spafford, General Presi- 
ident of Relief Society, and First 
Counselor Marianne C. Sharp, 
represented Relief Society at the 
meetings of the National Council 
of Women of the United States, 
in New York City, in October. 
President Spafford delivered a 
keynote address at luncheon, on 
October 9th, in which she empha- 
sized the duties of membership, 
saying, ". . . we must see ourselves 
as a united body of women work- 
ing together to serve society, 
equally responsible with our 
elected officers for the main- 
tenance and success of the 
Council, unique among women's 

Mrs. Maria Goeppert Mayer, 
born in Germany, now an Ameri- 
can citizen, shared the 1963 
Nobel prize for physics ($51,158) 
with Dr. Eugene P. Wigner. The 
only woman besides Madame 
Curie (1903) to win the Nobel 
physics prize, Mrs. Mayer was 
honored for research showing that 
atomic nuclei are built of onion- 
like layers of neutrons and 
protons held together by compli- 
cated forces. Her theory has ex- 
plained many nuclear properties. 

Mrs. Maria Isabel de Atiles 
Moreu of Puerto Rico won the 
Lane Bryant individual award for 
volunteer service and was given 
$1,000 at the announcement 
meeting in New York City in 
November. The award was in 
recognition of Mrs. Moreu's work 
in establishing rehabilitation cen- 
ters for handicapped children and 
adults. Mile. Denise Legrix of 
France won the International 
Volunteer award for her fund- 
raising campaign which resulted 
in the building of France's first 
orthopedic center for handicapped 

V^LENTiNA Tereshkova, the So- 
viet cosmonette and first v/oman 
in the world to make a space 
flight married, on November 2, 
1963, Soviet Cosmonaut Andrian 
Nikolayev, in one of Moscow's 
two ''palaces of marriage." Valen- 
tina expects to make more diffi- 
cult space flights in the future. 

A FEW women, for the first time 
in history, will be added to the 
very special group of men per- 
mitted to attend the Ecumenical 
Council of the Catholic Church 
as lay auditors or delegates, Pope 
Paul VI has announced. 





,.« ^\\\\iifff/////. 

The Day of the Lamanite 

The work of the Lord among the Lamanites must not be postponed, if we desire to retain 
the approval of God. Thus far we have been content simply to baptize them and let them 
run wild again, but this must continue no longer; the same devoted effort, the same care in 
instructing, the same organization of priesthood must be introduced and maintained among 
the house of Lehi as amongst those of Israel gathered from gentile nations. As yet, God 
has been doing all, and we comparatively nothing. He has led many of them to us, and 
they have been baptized, and now we must instruct them further, and organize them into 
churches with proper presidencies, attach them to our stakes, organizations, etc. In one 
word, treat them exactly, in these respects as we would and do treat our white brethren. 
(Gospel Kingdom, page 247). 

These words of President John Taylor, in 1882, are seeing fulfillment today, 
and, in the instructing, Relief Society women may and are taking a prominent 
part. The Nephite prophets loved the Lamanites. Enos plead with the Lord that 
if the Nephites were destroyed and the Lamanites survived, that the Lord would 
preserve the record of the Nephites "that it might be brought forth at some 
future day unto the Lamanites, that, perhaps, they might be brought unto salva- 
tion." Then Enos said, after the Lord covenanted with him to do so "wherefore 
my soul did rest." 

If mothers in Zion today would have their souls rest, they will heed the teachings 
of The Book of Mormon and extend toward the Lamanites that charity which 
never faileth. Our prophets today reveal that now is the time for loving service 
and guidance to the Lamanites. This generation has been offered this blessing. 
Relief Society has been asked to be an advocate of the Indians — to foster 
enlightenment to Indian women, to assist, work with, and encourage them both 
by teaching and training tnem. But, as the gift without the giver is bare, so 
Relief Society members must do all they do in the spirit of true charity. One will 
recall the wonderful promises made to the Lamanites and strive humbly to be 
instrumental in the Lord's hand to assist in preparing the Lamanites for their 


lelle S. Spafford, Pre. 

Marianne C. Sharp, First Couns 

Louise W. Madsen, Second Counseli 
Hulda Parker, Secretary-Treasurer 

Anna B. Hart 
Edith S. Elliott 
Florence J. Madsen 
Leone G. Layton 
Blanche B. Stoddard 
Evon W. Peterson 
Aleine M. Young 
Josie B. Bay 
Alberta H. Christensen 
Mildred B. Eyring 
Charlotte A. Larsen 
Edith P. Backman 
Winniefred S. Manwaring 
EIna P. Haymond 
Mary R. Young 
Mary V. Cameron 
Afton W. Hunt 
Wealtha S. Mendenhall 

Pearle M. Olsen 
Elsa T. Peterson 
Fanny S. Kienitz 
Elizabeth B. Winters 
LaRue H. Rosell 
Jennie R. Scott 
Alice L. Wilkinson 
LaPriel S. Bunker 
Irene W. Buehner 
Irene C. Lloyd 
Hazel S. Cannon 
Hazel S. Love 
Fawn H. Sharp 
Celestia J. Taylor 
Anne R. Gledhill 
Belva Barlow 
Zola J. McGhie 
Oa J. Cannon 
Lila B. Walch 

great and essential work of the Last Days. Relief Society members will gain 
great joy as they assist their Lamanite sisters, extending the hand of sisterhood 
and love to them. 

A second opportunity is coming to increasing numbers of Relief Society mothers 
in the Church to be "nursing mothers" —to open their homes, and, more 
important, their hearts, to Indian Latter-day Saint children, and make them one 
with their own families during the school terms. This foster care Indian Student 
Placement Program has the greatest potential for Church leadership among the 
Indians. Moreover, mothers of the Indian children today exhibit an unselfish 
love in depriving themselves of their children during the school months that 
they may progress and become leaders of their people. The love for their chil- 
dren and families is the same as that described by Jacob the brother of Nephi 
about 500 years b.c. when he said "and one day they shall become a blessed 
people. Behold, their husbands love their wives, and their wives love their hus- 
bands; and their husbands and their wives love their children." 

President Wilford Woodruff declared in 1873: 

. . . The Lamanites will blossom as the rose on the mountains . . . the fulfillment of that 
prophecy is perhaps harder for me to believe than any revelation of God that I ever read. 
It looks as though there would not be enough left to receive the Gospel; but notwithstand- 
ing this dark picture, every word that God has ever said of them will have its fulfillment, 
and they, by and by, will receive the Gospel. It will be a day of God's power among them, 
and a nation will be born in a day. Their chiefs will be filled with the power of God and 
receive the Gospel, and they will go forth and build the New Jerusalem, and we shall help 
them. (Journal of Discourses, 15:282). 

As President Woodruff declared, the promises of the Lord never fail. May each 
Relief Society member resolve in her heart and act courageously to further this 
marvelous work now spreading in accelerated tempo among the Lamanite peo- 
ple. As the opportunity comes may every Relief Society member humbly, 
obediently, and joyfully become a faithful and devoted advocate of this nation 
of the Lord. 

— M. C. S. 


otes to the Field 


Bound Volumes of 1963 Magazines 

Relief Society officers and members who wish to have their 1963 
issues of The Relief Society Magazine bound may do so through The 
Deseret New Press, 31 Richards Street, Salt Lake City, Utah 84111. 
(See advertisement in this issue of the Magazine.) The cost for bind- 
ing the twelve issues in a permanent cloth binding is $2.75, leather 
$4.20, including the index. A limited number of 1963 Magazines are 
available at the offices of the General Board of Relief Society, 76 
North Main Street, Salt Lake City, Utah 84111, for $2 for twelve 
issues. It is recommended that wards and stakes have one volume of 
the 1963 Magazines bound for preservation in ward and stake Relief 
Society libraries. 

The New March of Dimes 
Fight Birth Defects - Fight Arthritis 

The National Foundation 

Your March of Dimes and dollars are now working harder than ever. 
There are more than seventy March of Dimes Centers in fifty-one 
cities across the United States. Typical of such centers are the Birth 
Defects Special Treatment Center at the L.D.S. Primary Children's 
Hospital in Salt Lake City, Utah, and the Juvenile Arthritis Special 
Treatment Center at the University of Utah. In these centers each 
working day finds dedicated, skilled men and women continuing the 
fight against Birth Defects that strike a newborn child in America 
every other minute of the day, and against the Nation's Number One 
Crippler — Arthritis, which now afflicts eleven million Americans. 

In our fight against Birth Defects, your March of Dimes contri- 
butions are also supporting a broad range of studies to determine 
why Birth Defects and Arthritis occur, how they may be prevented, 
and the best means for correcting disease and disability. 

Despite polio's headlong rush to oblivion, thanks to the Salk and 
Sabin vaccines which you literally bought and paid for through the 
March of Dimes, there are still many partially or completely para- 
lyzed victims who need help and further rehabilitation. 

Give to the 1964 March of Dimes and your treatment centers 
will be able to continue in their search for hope and help for the child 
born less than perfect. Give generously to your 1964 March of Dimes. 



,v r" >:^>>*.^;^' 

Hazel K. Todd 

^A/iTH strange anticipation the well- 
dressed young woman stood alone 
in the falling snow before the old 
house in the trees. She had come 
through the sagging gate, down the 
snow-filled path where, as a child, 
her dancing feet had sped. The 
taxi that had brought her from the 
airport was rapidly disappearing in- 
to the white mist down the country 
road, taking with it the driver who 
had raised an eyebrow questioningly 
as he deposited her expensive lug- 
gage at the porch. But how could 
he know by looking at the old house 
sleeping there, of the Christmas 
warmth it had held within its an- 
cient walls! The woman stared at 
the great carved door. How could 
she hope to find the something of 
Christmas she had lost, that used to 
be here in this silent old house! For 
the parents who had brought her 
here as a child were gone, and the 
grandparents who had hung the 
great tree with tinsel and angels 
were gone, too, these twelve years. 
And she, Joan Mason, an ac- 
complished dress designer and owner 
of the old house, alone, was left. 

For a minute she turned and 
stared back the way she had come. 
But the taxi had already disappeared 
in the mist of falling snow. Slowly 
she opened her purse and fumbled 

in it to bring out an ancient key tied 
with a red string. For a few sec- 
onds she gazed thoughtfully at it 
and then she fitted it into the black 
lock of the door. It turned easily 
with the generations of years of ex- 
perience behind it. The door swung 
open and she stepped inside. Stand- 
ing there with her back to the door, 
her eyes traveled expectantly over 
the old familiar things as if already 
the lost essence should sing out, 
"You are here! At last I am found!" 
But they were silent, the things she 
had known, the red plush sofa, the 
bookcase with its glass doors and its 
rows of books, the elaborately 
framed pictures of her ancestors on 
the wall, the mantel where she had 
hung her Christmas stockings long 

In the great fireplace wood lay 
unkindled. With a warm tingle of 
old familiarity she turned to the 
carved bird on the mantel with its 
match-filled wings. 

In a few minutes the fire was 
blazing comfortably. She had hung 
her wraps in the hall closet and put 
away the groceries that she had 
bought in the village on the way. 
Now she sat before the fire in the 
old rocking chair where her grand- 
mother had rocked. 



Vinson would be surprised if he 
could see her here. She went over 
again the words she had scribbled so 
hurriedly on a sudden impulse: 

Dear Vine, 

I won't be able to go on the house party. 
I hope you'll forgive me. I've gone to find 
something of Christmas I had once and 
lost. — Joan 

She never would have thought of 
writing the note or of coming, if the 
letter hadn't arrived in the mail 
yesterday morning from the Grays, 
the aged couple who were the care- 
takers of the old home that had 
come to her as an inheritance from 
her grandparents. The letter had 
simply stated that an unexpected op- 
portunity had come for them to 
spend the winter in Arizona, and 
they were enclosing the key. 

In all the years the old place had 
belonged to her she had paid no 
heed to it, except for the checks she 
mailed for its maintenance. But 
yesterday, when she opened the let- 
ter, the key with the red string un- 
leashed a stream of memories that 
rushed and tumbled over each other 
until she wept softly into the folds 
of the scarf in her hands. 

She saw her grandfather placing 
the great log on the fire. She danced 
around the Christmas tree while 
they hung it with wonderful treas- 
ures from an old brown box, candles 
with real fire, popcorn, and home- 
made chains. And the star at the 
top, a great silver star painted on a 
smooth board and wound with tin- 
sel and beads. And her grandmoth- 
er had wrapped it and unwrapped 
it very carefully each year, because, 
as she had explained to Joan (who 
was Joanna then), it represented the 

Baby Jesus when he was born in 

So deep in the midst of clamoring 
memories was she, that the knock- 
ing at the door might well have been 
her grandfather, his arms filled with 
the Yule log, demanding admittance. 
As in a dream, Joan rose and started 
across the room. Then she halted. 
This was not her grandfather! Some- 
one to see the Grays. She was about 
to return to her chair when the 
knock came again. It roused a 
curious impulse, and she found her- 
self at the door looking down into 
the small, heart-shaped face of a 
child. She was a quaint little girl 
with long dark braids hanging from 
a queer little knitted cap with a 
peaked top. She wore a long gray 
coat and heavy overboots. In her 
mittened hand she carried a bright- 
colored sand pail that might have 
been from a different world. At 
sight of Joan the child's brow puck- 
ered in a puzzled expression, and 
she brushed her free hand over her 
cheek in an odd little mannerism. 

Joan looked at the child with 
curiosity. At least this was some- 
thing new and different. "Won't 
you come in?" she asked, still hold- 
ing the door. 

The child hesitated. "But where 
is Mrs. Gray? I wanted her to help 
me find the star." 

Joan looked at the bucket, wonder- 
ingly. "I am very sorry," she said, 
"Mrs. Gray isn't here any more." 

The child's face fell. For a mo- 
ment Joan thought she was going to 
cry. Quickly she tried to make 
amends. "Perhaps — perhaps I 
could help you." She looked at the 
bucket again. "Did you say a stf.r?" 



The little face brightened hope- 
fully, and she smiled. "Oh, didn't 
you know about the star?" she 
asked in deep surprise. 

Then, when Joan still looked puz- 
zled, she added so very earnestly, 
"You know, the Christmas star, the 
Jesus, star. Mrs. Piney says that 
people have lost the star because 
they don't remember Jesus any 

Joan stood a moment staring at 
the child without saying anything. 

"She says it must be found again," 
the little girl continued. 

"I ... I suppose it must," Joan 
whispered slowly. 

"What did you say?" 

"Oh, nothing, nothing at all. I 
was just thinking. That is — I 
mean perhaps that is what I have 
lost — the Jesus star!" And then 
she suddenly blushed as though she 
stood before the child on trial for 
some grievous offense. "Oh, you 
must be cold," she said, brushing the 
snow from the peaked cap and the 
long coat. "Please come in and sit 
by the fire. Let me take your coat 
and cap." 

The little girl sat on the low stool 
where she, herself, had sat so many 
times long ago. She placed the 
bucket carefully on the lap of her 
brown dress. 

"What — what were you going 
to do with the star?" Joan asked 
with her eyes on the bucket. 

The child looked up quickly with 
frank blue eyes. "If I had a Christ- 
mas tree I would hang it at the tip- 
top where everyone could see it." 

Joan struggled with the strange 
emotions inside her. She gazed at 
the little girl in wonder, while she 
searched carefully for words. But 

she could find none appropriate. 

"I guess it must have tumbled 
from the sky," the little girl went on, 
completely unaffected by Joan's 
silence. "It must be in the fields. 
But Mrs. Piney is so old she could 
not walk in the snow. But you will 
go!" she finished brightly. 

Joan looked out the window. 
The white dusk was gathering. The 
short winter day would soon be over. 
The snow was falling steadily with 
thick white flakes. What did you 
do with a strange child with some 
long-ago charm who wanted you 
to go in the snow some place to hunt 
for an imaginary star that had fal- 
len from the sky because people had 
ceased to think of Jesus! 

"I . . . I'm afraid it is too late 
tonight to find the star," Joan said, 
fumbling for words and snatching 
the hope that with a little time she 
would know what to do. 

"But maybe Mrs. Piney will not 
go to sleep tomorrow." 

"Who is Mrs. Piney?" 

"She takes care of me. She cooks 
the food and sews my dresses." 

Joan looked over the drab brown 
dress buttoned under her chin, at 
the bulky stockings, and the old- 
fashioned coat she had hung over 
the chair by the fire. Her mind 
drew a vivid picture of Mrs. Piney 
— an old lady apart from the world, 
who knew nothing of the way mod- 
ern children dressed and played; 
but who knew about important 
things like the star. 

"Who are you?" asked the child 

"My name is Joan." Then, on 
second thought she added, "No, it 
is Joanna, and I used to come to 
this house when I was a little girl." 



"Oh, I will come tomorrow!" said 
the child happily. 

Then again there was a knock. A 
half -fearful, startled look crossed the 
little girl's face, and she turned her 
stool with her back to the door. 

Joan arose and walked to the door, 
half expecting some unreal person to 
be standing there. 

It was a man, tall and lean. Yet 
in his face were the same frank blue 
eyes as those of the little girl. At 
sight of her he looked surprised and 
lifted his snowy hat, displaying dark 
hair grayed at the temples. 

"I beg your pardon," he said 
apologetically, "but I was looking 
for a little girl. She comes over here 
occasionally, even though I have 
told her she must not bother the 

Joan looked at the man, her mind 
filled with questions. There was no 
sound from the little girl even 
though Joan was sure she must have 
heard. There were drawn lines 
about the man's eyes and mouth, and 
Joan thought she detected a hint of 
bitterness about him. 

She stepped back from the door. 
"Please come in," she said. "The 
Grays are in Arizona. I own this 
place and I came to — to see about 
it," she finished lamely. 

He entered and she saw him stif- 
fen slightly. "There you are, 
Mitzie," he said quite sharply. 
"Why did you run away when 
Mrs. Piney was asleep?" 

The little girl began to cry then, 
sobbing, with her tiny face buried 
in the skirt of her brown dress. 

"You must come with me at 
once," the man said quite sternly, 
crossing to her. 

Even though the present dilemma 
was no concern of hers, Joan felt 
desperately the urge to do some- 

She put out her hand instinctively. 
"Please," she said, "do not scold 
her." And then her face flushed. 
"I mean, Mitzie was certainly no 

"She knows she must not run 
away," the man said, taking her by 
the hand. 

"But, Daddy, I wanted to find 
the star!" Mitzie wept, standing and 
clinging to her father's leg. 

He put his hand on her head. 
"Mitzie, you must stop talking such 
nonsense." He turned to Joan. "I 
am away a lot," he said. "The 
woman who takes care of her is old 
and sentimental." 

Mitzie let go his leg and held her 
face in her hands. 

But he was holding her coat, and 
she ceased her crying and put her 
arms resignedly into the sleeves. 

Joan stood by, confused with the 
strange drama she had so suddenly 
found herself a part of, and yet 
there was something. . . . 

"I was thinking," she said, staring 
at the child in her quaint coat and 
cap, and then at the man, "that — 
that perhaps, you, too, have lost the 

He looked at her with sort of a 
quizzical weariness. For a moment 
he hesitated, and then he walked to 
the door, holding Mitzie's hand. He 
turned then, with a half-bitter smile 
flicking the corners of his mouth. 
"Mitzie's mother died," he said, 
"seven years ago on Christmas Eve, 
the night Mitzie was born." 

They went out the door, then, into 



the mist. Mitzie turned slightly, 
and, for a brief moment, looked at 
Joan with a half-pleading, sad ex- 
pression on her tear- streaked face. 

And then the door closed on them 
and the snowy night, and they 
were gone. 

For a time Joan stood staring at 
the door. What a paradox! She 
had come two thousand miles here 
to find something that was to be 
peace and serenity, joy and thanks- 
giving. Instead, she had met a 
lonely little girl and a man, bitter 
and miles away from his own child, 
a child who wished for a Christmas 
tree on which to hang the Jesus star. 

Suddenly an idea came surging 
over her, like a light, along the path 
of old memories. Why not make a 
Christmas for Mitzie! A huge 
sparkling tree with candles and pop- 
corn and paper chains! The old 
brown box! Where was it! And 
the star, the silver star with the tin- 
sel and beads! Mitzie's star! 

Burning with excitement, she 
raced from one corner of the old 
house to the other, digging in closets 
and cupboards and drawers until 
she found the box in the cubby hole 
at the top of the stairs. With her 
heart drumming at her ribs, she 
lugged it down the stairs to the mid- 
dle of the old parlor floor before the 
fire. How she cried over each gold- 
en treasure, unwinding long chains 
of paper and tinsel, kissing each 
bright cherub, laughing with delight 
at the glass birds and the tinkling 
bells. Happily she gazed over the 
room, mentally setting up the tree, 
hanging it with splendor. Her eyes 
rested for a second on the old organ, 
and she rushed to it and sat down 
on the worn velvet bench. From 

one old carol to another she sang 
while a tender peace settled about 
her. She came to the words, "Star 
of the East, oh, Bethlehem Star." 
Her fingers paused. Her foot ceased 
to pump the old bellows. The Star! 
The Star that meant losing yourself 
for others. Yes, it was the star that 
she had lost! But she had found it! 
She leaned her head down on the 
ivory keys and wept tears of sweet 

So, all the next day she worked and 
listened for the knock that would 
bring Mitzie in search of the star 
she had promised to help her find. 
She refused to accept the possibility 
that she would not be able to come. 

But noon passed and the wind 
came up, blowing the loose snow 
into drifts. She saw it through the 
window, piling along the fence be- 
yond the apple trees. She went out- 
side and let the wind whip at her, 
trying to imagine in which direc- 
tion Mitzie could live. The early 
winter dusk was settling. There was 
not time to wait longer. She must 
call a taxi. 

She had barely retraced her steps 
into the house and reached the 
phone when the knock came. With 
her heart racing in anticipation, she 
hurried to the door. But it was not 
Mitzie. It was Mitzie's father, 
standing there in the blowing snow, 
with the bitter lines on his face, 
tightened. "I'm sorry," he said, "to 
bother you again. But Mitzie 
slipped away while I was gone. You 
see I let Mrs. Piney go home this 
morning, and I just realized today 
that she had done nothing about 
Mitzie's Christmas." He looked away 
into the snow. "I have never been 



here on Christmas with her before." 
His eyes came back. "I hope Mitzie 
hasn't been worrying you about the 
star again. She can't seem to get 
it out of her mind." 

A sharp intimate fear possessed 
Joan. "She is not here!" she said. 

"Not here?" The man looked be- 
wildered. "But it was the only 
place she could be. I was sure. . . ." 

Joan felt limp and sick. "If you 
only knew," she said, "how much 
I wanted her to come. I. . . . Oh, 
please come in." 

She led him into the room and he 
stared in amazement. 

"It was for Mitzie," she said. "The 
star at the top of the tree. It is 
her star, one I loved when I was a 
little girl. You see, I, too, had lost 
the star, lost it in a whirl of parties, 
and night clubs, and making mon- 
ey, and friends who didn't know 
true values, and. . . ." She paused 
and wiped the tears from her eyes. 
"Mitzie helped me find it. And I 
wanted her to have it, too, a real 
Christmas such as she had never 

She dropped into the rocker and 
put her head on the lacy doily of 
the arm and wept. 

He stood meekly before her hold- 
ing his hat. "I have been a heel," 
he said, "the most inadequate father 
a child ever had. I have let my 
own selfish grief deny her both fa- 
ther and mother." He hesitated. 
"Last night I kept thinking of what 
you said about my losing the star. 
And I realized you were right, so I 
let Mrs. Piney go home for Christ- 
mas, and I decided to make Mitzie 
a real Christmas." 

Joan was wiping her eyes. 

"Come!" she said, standing quickly. 
"We must find her. It is much too 
cold. Where can we look?" 

"Only that I think she has gone 
somewhere to find the star." 

"In the fields!" Joan said, "She 
said it must be in the fields!" 

But it was a hopeless task, wading 
through the fields in the blowing 
snow, calling for Mitzie, flashing 
the light across the stretches of 
ominous white, while consternation 
turned to terror. 

They stopped and faced each oth- 
er. "We could call the police from 
your home. It is nearer than mine," 
he said. 

Then, as they threw open her 
door against the wind, they saw 
Mitzie standing there. She was 
gazing at the silver star at the top 
of the tree. 

As they came rushing forward, 
she turned to them, her face alight 
with rapture, completely unaware 
of the anxiety she had caused. 
"Look!" she cried, "The Star! I have 
found the Jesus Star! It is on the 
top of your tree!" 

"Yes, Mitzie, darling," her father 
said in penitent tones, as he gently 
took the sand pail from her hand 
and set it on the floor. Then he 
held the little hand in his own. 

Joan reached for the other hand. 
"It is the star we had all three lost, 
Mitzie. But truly it is only the 
picture of it. The real Jesus star is 
in people's hearts." 

"And we will keep it there for- 
ever," Mitzie's father said. 

Then he walked to the doorway 
and taking the sprig of mistletoe 
from it, he carried it back to hang 
it from a dangling Christmas bell 
over their heads. 


What Is 

a Work 




Sylvia Lundgien 

J3etween the innocence of youth and the dignity of mature sisters, 
we find the dehghtfully blessed lady called the work meeting leader. 

Work meeting leaders come from various backgrounds, but all have 
the same possibilities to teach, inspire, and uphold the standards of the 
Relief Society and the home, and to enjoy every hour spent in planning 
and executing the plans, and to protest only with new ideas when one 
work meeting is completed and the next one comes into view. 

Work meeting leaders are found everywhere — in department stores, 
variety stores, antique shops, supermarkets, attics, basements, back yards, 
kitchens, and even in city dumps. They are planning, always planning how 
to inspire all members to use their own talents and make the most out of 
what they have. 

Presidents love them, counselors counsel with them, chairmen work 
with them, and husbands and children wonder what they are doing with 
all that junk. 



A work meeting leader is beauty with a creative mind, wisdom with 
glue on her fingers — the hope of the Relief Society, with scissors, needles, 
and thread in her pockets. 

When she uses long-range plans, her Relief Society is active and 
happy with their accomplishments, but when she plans for only one 
month, and maybe that just before work meeting, she is not successful and 
Relief Society spirit begins to lag. 

A work meeting leader is a composite. She has an appetite for work- 
meeting luncheons, the disposition of an angel, the curiosity of a research 
laboratory, the energy of an atomic bomb, the imagination of a great 
designer, the enthusiasm of a firecracker. When she plans a work meet- 
ing she draws on the talents of all the sisters. 

She likes sisters who are enthusiastic chairmen, who arrive on time 
and set up their own departments. 

She is not enthusiastic over late comers and early goers, nor sisters 
who work reluctantly, nor demonstrations poorly planned. Nobody else 
is so early to arrive or so late to go home. 

Nobody else gets so much inspiration from a pretty bottle, tin cans, 
bits of yarn, scraps of material, or ten cups of whole-wheat flour. 

Nobody else can cram into one day the putting on of a quilt, making 
pixie dolls, costume jewelry, burlap carry-all bags, have a demonstration 
on how to put in sleeves, turn a collar, hand-rub furniture, how to budget 
money, make strawberry jam, and yet have hot baked bread ready for lunch. 

Nobody else can coordinate her chairmen so that each has time and 
materials to demonstrate. 

A work meeting leader is a magical creature. She has the privilege 
as no other to use any and all who have talent. She can reach sisters who 
can be reached in no other way. She can make the new timid members 
feel needed and appreciated. She can go into the home of an inactive 
member and spy a work of art, a treasure longing to be shared and used. 
She can work magic in getting this reluctant sister to come back to Relief 

You can get a work meeting leader out of the chapel, but you can't 
get her off the phone. You can give her all the rope she needs, and she'll 
hang your work meeting on top with activity and attendance. Might as 
well give up. She is genius, your devoted slave, your lifesaver, the back- 
bone of your work meeting, your pillar of strength and a real sister indeed. 

When you feel your resources have hit bottom and your budget is 
overdrawn, your home-making standards need to be raised, but you don't 
know how, and you feel frustrated by having tried and failed, she can cure 
all your ills with the magic of attending just one work meeting. 

We are so thankful for work meeting leaders! 


Playtime Recipes 

Janet W. Bieeze 


inside and out 

Teaching a child the joy of creativity 
can be even more rewarding if "raw" ma- 
terials are used. Paint and clay can be 
purchased in a store, but it is much more 
fun to see how they are made. The fol- 
lowing "kitchen-type" craft materials can 
be stored to use another time. Put the 
finger paint and the soap bubbles in small 
jars, and the play dough in a plastic bag. 

Finger Paint 

2 c. laundry starch (or flour) 

1 c. soap flakes (neither detergents nor 
soap powders will do) 

Water to make a thick, slippery con- 

Color with either poster paint or food 
coloring. Use on wet, non-absorbent 
paper. Real finger paint paper is slick on 
one side. Glazed shelf paper can be used 
and so can oilcloth. One advantage of 
oilcloth is that it can be washed and used 
again. Homemade finger paint requires 
periodic thinning with water. 

1 c. flour 
% c. salt 

Play Dough 

1 tsp. powdered alum (preferable) 

1 tbsp. salad oil as a binder 

Food coloring added to enough water 
to make desired pliable consistency. 

Knead as you would bread dough until 

Soap Bubbles 

Add /4 c. liquid dishwashing deter- 
gent to K c. water 

Carefully stir in i tbsp. sugar (try to 
avoid suds.) 

Bubbles are blown by dipping straws, 
empty thread spools, or funnels, into the 
mixture to obtain a film over the opening. 
The last inch of a straw can be cut ver- 
tically into fours, making it possible to 
blow larger bubbles. 

' ^" k. 





Shirley Thulin 

I F your little girl has lost her warm ear-hugging hat, you can make 
this attractive one to replace it. Little girls love these hats, and they 
are ideal to wear with a pony tail. 

You can make one from felt, wool, or corduroy. If you use wool 
or corduroy, you will have to hem or bind the edges. 

You will need two pieces of material each about 16 inches long 
and four inches wide, some bright metallic or colorful rickrack for 
the trim, and two ties about 10 inches long. 

To make a pattern to guide your cutting, make a line 16 inches 
long on heavy paper. Find the center of the line and make a mark. 
Four inches straight up from this mark, make another mark (Figure 

16 — 

Figure 1 



Figure 2 

Now, starting from one end of the 16-inch Hne, draw a rounded 
line curving up from the end to the center mark (Figure 2). Make 
another rounded Hne from the center mark to the other end of the 
16-inch hne.To be sure it is the same as the first curved hne, it would 
be best to fold the paper in half and check. 

Seam along top, 
joining front and back 

Figure 3 

You will now have a semicircle with the base 16 inches long, 
and four inches through at the widest part (Figure 3). You will 
need two of these semi-circle pieces, one for the back of the hat and 
one for the front. 

Figure 4 

Make four small darts in the back piece on the straight edge 
to shape the back of the head (Figure 4). The two center darts 
should be two inches long and about Vs inch deep, two outside 
darts, one inch long and Ys inch deep. The darts should be about 
% inch apart. 

How to make seam: Machine stitch the two pieces (front and 
back pieces) together along the rounded edge, then stitch the trim 
all around the straight edges. Now make the two ties and stitch one 
to each end. The ties can be yarn, braided, or bias tape, or a string 
made of the same material the hat is made from. 

To trim the hat, you can make it as simple or as fancy as you 
wish. Just a single row of rickrack does nicely, or you can use lace, 
angora yarn, several rows of metallic trim, or even a leftover piece 
of fur. 


Part IV -Dried Beans 

Marion Bennion, Ph.D. 
Chairman, Department of Food and Nutrition 

Sadie O. Morris, Ph.D. 

Department of Food and Nutrition 
Brigham Young University 

Dried beans and peas have been old friends to many homemakers for years. 
They have found them a bargain — an inexpensive source of protein, calories, 
B vitamins, and iron. The addition of a little meat or cheese to bean dishes 
makes the protein even better quality. 

The water lost in the ripening and drying of beans must be replaced in 
soaking and cooking and this process has required hours of time. In this day of 
busy time schedules the modern homemaker has sometimes found this incon- 
venient. However, at the present time there are many short cuts which may be 
used to decrease the time required in preparation. 

A rapid method of soaking beans is to start by boiling them in water to 
cover for two minutes, removing from heat and letting covered pan stand one 
hour. The beans are then ready to cook in the water used for soaking. 

When hard water only is available the cooking time may be reduced by 
adding a small amount of baking soda to the soaking water. Do not use more 
than Vb tsp. baking soda per pint of water. Larger amounts will cause the beans 
to be soft and mushy and will reduce the nutritive value. For one cup of 
small red or pinto beans, use about 3 cups of soaking water. After soaking add 
one tsp. salt and boil gently about two hours. The use of a pressure saucepan 
for cooking at 15 lb. pressure after soaking will reduce cooking time to 5-10 
minutes. If a pressure saucepan is used only 2 cups of water are required 
in the soaking process and no soda should be added. If the beans tend to form 
a great deal of foam during cooking, a tablespoon of drippings or other fat 
added to the cooking water should prevent this. 

After the beans have been cooked they may be used in a variety of dishes. 



Dry Bean Recipes 


1 lb. ground beef 
1/4 c. finely cut onion 
c. evaporated milk 
c. bread crumbs 
1V4 tsp. salt 

tsp. chili powder 
tsp. pepper 

1 tbsp. shortening 
V2 c. finely cut onion 

2 c. baked beans 
I/4 c. catsup 

2 tbsp. brown sugar 
14 tsp. dry mustard 

Mix meat well with onion, milk, 
bread crumbs, and seasoning. Wet 
hands and shape into 12 balls. Brown 
meat balls in shortening and finely cut 
onion. Spoon off any drippings around 
meat balls in skillet. Add mixture of 
baked beans, catsup, brown sugar, and 
mustard. Cover and cook over low 
heat for 10 minutes. Makes 4 serv- 



cups pinto or other dried beans 
pound salt pork 

1 medium onion 


tsp. salt 
c. molasses 
tsp. dry mustard 
tbsp. sugar 

Wash beans and discard imperfect 
ones. Cover with 6 cups of water, 
boil 2 minutes, cover and soak 1 hour 
before cooking. Cook in soaking water 
until tender, about 2 hours, covered. 
During last 45 minutes of cooking add 
salt pork. Drain and pour beans and 
salt pork into baking pan. Bring 
drained liquid to boiling point and add 
salt, molasses, mustard, and sugar. 
Pour mixture over beans and add 
enough more water to cover beans. 
Cover pan and bake 3 hours at 300° F. 
Then uncover and bake V2 hour more. 
Serves 6. 


2 tbsp. bacon drippings 

% c. chopped onion 

V^ lb. ground beef 
2V2 c. cooked dry beans 

% c. minced pepper 
2-21/2 cups canned tomatoes 

1 bay leaf, crushed 

2 tbsp. sugar 

3-5 tsp. chili powder 
salt and pepper 

Brown onion in drippings. Add meat 
and cook slowly for a few minutes, 
stirring occasionally. Add remaining 
ingredients, season, and simmer until 
meat is tender and flavors are blended, 
about 30 minutes. Serves 4. 



c. cooked dry beans 

c. canned tomatoes 

tbsp. chopped green pepper 

c. chopped onion 

tsp. salt 

tsp. chili powder 

garlic salt 

strips bacon, fried, but not crisp 

Combine all ingredients except ba- 
con. Turn into greased baking dish. 
Arrange bacon strips over top. Bake 
at 350° F. for 1 hour. Serves 4. 



Delia deed's Hobby Is Making Gifts 

Della Bowcutt Gleed, Malad, Idaho, is so versatile and so busy with her 
needle and her crochet hook that she is known to Relief Society and to her 
many friends, as a maker of lovely gifts. As quilting chairman of the Malad 
Third Ward Relief Society, for four years, she has marked and prepared many 
quilts for the sisters for work meeting day. A large number of beautifully 
designed quilts which she has completed adorn the homes of her friends and 
neighbors, as well as the homes of many relatives. She has crocheted a pair 
of slippers for each of her forty-one grandchildren. She has also made pixie 
dolls for gifts, terry cloth pillows, satin smocked pillows, and clown dolls made 
from old stockings. She has knitted many stocking caps, and has recently 
completed eight crib quilts, a number of braided rugs, and has crocheted a 
large variety of gift items. She sews expertly and is especially noted for the 
beautiful aprons she designs and for the children's clothing which she care- 
fully cuts and sews. 

In addition to her duties as work meeting leader, Mrs. Gleed has served 
for many years as a faithful and beloved visiting teacher. 


of the 


Rosa Lee Lloyd 
Chapter 7 


Why would she do such a thing?'' 
Ben demanded after Pixie and 
Tutu had left the room. "Why 
would my little daughter want to 
look like that!'' 

Luana smiled, wistfully. "She's 
fifteen, darling," she said. "Have 
you forgotten how it is to be fif- 
teen? How you yearned to attract 
a special girl?" 

"I wouldn't have looked at a 
girl with hair like that!" he 

"Of course not," Luana agreed. 
"Pixie didn't want hair that color. 
She tried to be a honey-blond, 
and turned out to be an orange 

"Her own hair is pretty 
enough," he came back fiercely. 
"She's the cutest girl on the whole 
island. She looked like a little 
princess when she danced with 
Phil at the Gala Room. . . ." His 
voice was calmer. "I was so proud 
of them, Luana . . . fine, upright 

children — natural as the sun- 

"I know," she answered, "but 
try to understand why she did 
it, Ben. There is a boy she wants 
to notice her. He is attracted to 
a pretty blond. ..." 

"Then he isn't the right boy 
for her," he interrupted. "She can 
attract her own kind in her own 
way. She is pretty enough." 

Luana nodded, but her eyes 
did not quite agree with him. 

"Yes . . . her own shade of hair 
is best for her. It is for any girl. 
But we must help her in other 
ways, darling. She must have 
braces on her teeth this year." 

Ben paced back and forth 
across the room. At last he 
stopped before Luana. 

"Do you think I haven't 
thought of that?" he questioned. 
"We'll get the braces, if I have 
to sell the plantation to the cor- 



''No — not that!'' Luana said. 
"This plantation is our home. I 
don't want you to work under 
pressure. I want to live here al- 
ways. I want to make our living 

Ben bent his head. He was 
quiet for a moment. When he 
looked at her again, his eyes were 
steady and confident. 

"We'll get along," he said. "We 
always do, sweetheart. I'll talk 
to Pixie now." 

Luana touched his cheek. "Be 
gentle with her. She loves you 
dearly and wants to please you." 

His brows puckered together, 

"I want to say something that 
will make her realize that it's not 
the color of her hair that wins 
love — it's what she radiates — 
it's what she really is." 

"She needs to know that," 
Luana said, "but now — we must 
do something about her hair. We 
could take her to a good beauty 

"Could they change it to her 
own color?" he asked, hopefully. 

"I think so. . . . They retouch 
it some way, but it's expensive," 
she added. 

"It won't break us," he smiled, 
"but she needs a lesson. Some- 
thing that will remind her that 
mistakes cost money sometimes." 

"How about making her pay 
for it out of her baby-sitting 
money? She has been saving for 
a camping trip." 

"That's it!" Ben said. "Call the 
beauty salon and see if they can 
take her right away. I'll drive her 
there. I don't want anyone to see 
her with hair like that!" 

The twins were up at five 
o'clock on their birthday. They 
came romping to Luana's and 
Ben's bedroom, their ruddy faces 
glowing with joy. 

"Look, Mama," Benjy whis- 
pered, snuggling his face against 
hers. "We're thirteen. Mama. Are 
you awake?" 

"Yes, dear," Luana answered, 
as she pulled Bo down beside her, 
too. "Happy birthday, my dar- 

"Can we start on the picnic 
early?" Bo asked. "We told Sam 
Henri and Hiki and all the others 
we invited that we would start 
at six." 

Luana sat up. 

"Well! That is early. You boys 
take your swim right away. Then 
you can help with the lunch. Let's 
see — we decided on peanut 
butter and coconut sandwiches 
and big red apples. ..." 

"And tuna sandwiches, too," 
Bo added. 

"And bananas and grapes so 
Toki can eat, too," Benjy said. 

"That's right," Luana agreed. 
"Toki is part of our family now. 
We'll need a big jug of poi and 
potato chips." 

"And one of our birthday 
cakes," Bo chimed in. "We have 
two cakes. Mama." 

"Yes — we'll have the other 
one for our family. You remem- 
ber that Daddy likes our family 
dinner after party guests have 
gone home." 

"Are we having a luau, too, 
Mama?" Bo wanted to know. 

"Not a real luau," she ex- 
plained. "Our pig will be roasted 
in the roaster — not cooked 



under the ground on hot coals." 

^'Oh, sure," he laughed. "I re- 

"I wonder what I'll get for my 
birthday?" Benjy mused out loud. 

Bo looked at him, disdainfully. 

"Come on, dopey!" he yelled 
as he dashed toward the lagoon. 

Luana watched them as they 
ran through the sky-blue jacaran- 
das and the brilliant pink flowers 
that were opening their petals in 
the early sunshine. 

Everything is so fresh and 
alive, she thought. She drew a 
long breath, loving the fragrance 
of the flowery, sweet-smelling 
morning. She could see the daz- 
zling blue sky and the bright blue 
water of the lagoon reflecting the 
great white cotton-puff clouds 
drifting lazily against the sun. 

This was her own picture of 
paradise, she told herself with a 
long rapturous sigh. This was 
morning on the Pacific, on the 
long blue swells that washed the 
shores of the Hawaiian Islands. 
Midnight, moonlight, and blue- 
velvet twilight were equally en- 
trancing, she thought, remember- 
ing that she had chosen early 
dawn for her own painting. That 
is when the wind kisses the waves 
and they linger breathlessly for 
that kiss. She had named her 
painting ''Kiss of the Wind." It 
was more than a title. It meant 
her love for all that was dear to 
her — for all that Hawaii had 
given to her — her family, her 
home, her friends. "Thank you, 
dear Heavenly Father," she mur- 
mured as she turned from the 
window and hurried to the kitch- 

By six o'clock they were ready 
for the drive to the rolling hills 
only three miles away. It was an 
ideal place for a picnic, with a 
broad valley view. 

Philip led the party in his own 
jeep. Benjy and Bo were with 
him. Ben followed, with the rest 
of the family in the station wag- 
on. They were ,to meet their 
guests at the valley-top. 

When they arrived at Hill 
Slope, they parked their cars be- 
side the fields of yellow poppies. 

Margaret stood entranced. 
"Such color!" she exclaimed. "It 
is an artist's duty to give this 
glory to the world!" 

"It is indeed!" Tutu said. 

"Each place seems lovelier than 
the last one," Margaret went on. 
"I can't decide which to choose. 
But I must do so soon." 

"There's a good view of Hale- 
akala, the world's largest extinct 
volcano," Ben told her. "There — 
to your right." 

"Oh, yes! It must be thousands 
of feet to the rim," she said. 

"Ten thousand," Ben answered. 
"We will take you there before 
you leave. But now — let's pic- 

Soft cool air floated over them 
as they started up the valley. 

"What long grass!" Margaret 
called out. "And so green!" 

Benjy and Bo were far up the 
valley with their young friends. 
Luana could hear them laughing 
and whistling to each other. 
When she heard a loud whooping 
and yelling, she knew they had 
reached the first big hau tree — 
one that would be just right for 
climbing and swinging. 



When the rest of them reached 
the big tree, the children were 
completely hidden in its tangled, 
leafy branches. They climbed 
like monkeys, laughing and call- 
ing to each other until they 
reached the tiptop branches. 
Then each of them straddled a 
long limber branch and came 
swooping down with a wild yell 
that echoed across the valley. 

"Try it, Aunt Margaret!" 

Benjy came running to her 
after he landed on the grass. 
"Mama did once. It doesn't hurt. 
Does it. Mama?" 

L u a n a laughed. "Once is 
enough!" she said. "That's a good 
sport for sturdy boys. Not ladies. 
Let Aunt Margaret wait until we 
make our slide. That's thrilling 
enough for girls." 

"It sure is," Emma Lu spoke 
up. "I haven't done anything 
that crazy for three years." 

"Let me take Toki up the tree, 
Emma Lu," Benjy coaxed. "He'll 
like it." 

"He's happy right here on my 
shoulder," she said. "He might 
get lost in those branches." 

"Yes — he might," Benjy 
agreed with a reluctant shrug. 
"He sure might." 

A FTER the second ride in the hau 
tree they started up the trail 
again. As they walked along, each 
gathered ti leaves. They were 
long shiny leaves that grew close 
to the ground. 

Ben, who was walking ahead 
of the others, called back that he 
had found a place for the slide. 
He was standing near a smooth 
grassy hillside with an incHne 

that was not too steep. 

"That's a sissy slide," Bo pro- 

"This is steep enough," Ben 
insisted. "And not too steep for 

He looked meaningly at his 
twin boys. "We must remember 
that it was Tutu who taught us 
how to slide this way. When she 
was younger she could take the 
steeper slides. Now she needs an 
easy, gentle slope like this. I'll go 
first, to smooth the grass. Then 
we'll let Tutu slide after me, be- 
cause they go faster as each one 
goes down. Phil — help me carry 

They crossed hands and made 
a carriage for Tutu. She put an 
arm around each of their shoul- 
ders, and off they went up the 
hillside. When they reached the 
top of the hill, Ben sat down on 
his ti leaves. He pulled the long 
stalks up in front of him. Then 
he moved himself forward until 
he began to slide down the hill- 
side through the tall, wet grass. 
He waited at the bottom of the 
hill so he could catch Tutu. 

"That was fun!" she laughed. 
"Try it, Margaret. It's getting 
slicker now." 

Margaret's ride was faster than 
Tutu's. A little wet pool of mud 
was forming at the bottom of 
the slide. By the time it was 
Luana's turn, the grass was 
packed down and very slippery. 

"Slick as a ski hill!" Luana 
laughed as Ben caught her at the 
bottom. "Your turn, Emma Lu." 

"Not me! The Mainland has 
made a sissy out of me," she 
called out. 



The boys had a rollicking time 
for the next hour, laughing and 
sliding and splashing mud all over 
each other. They were covered 
from top to bottom. 

''Time to wash up," Ben said. 
"That picnic lunch will taste 
mighty good after these mud 

They found a stream in the 
poppy field and waded there in 
the bubbling water. Tutu had 
brought a bar of soap in her muu- 
muu pocket, and each took a turn 
washing off the mud. Then they 
went to the jeeps and station 
wagon to change into clean, dry 

Luana spread a large straw mat 
on the grass, while Philip brought 
the picnic baskets brimming with 
food. There were wooden bowls 
for poi and mugs for pine and 
mint punch. A large, high basket 
held the birthday cake. There 
were dozens of sandwiches and 
large, crunchy chips, and sweet 

When everyone was seated on 
the grass around the mat, Ben 
asked Phihp to say the blessing. 

Luana thought she had never 
heard him offer such a heart- 
warming prayer. Words of grati- 
tude came from his heart with 
freshened vigor and meaning. Un- 
til this moment she had not 
realized how mature her oldest 
son had became. 

There was a hushed silence 
when Philip said "Amen," as if 
each one had felt the love and 
gratitude he expressed. 

"Well . . ." Ben said at last, 
"shall we taste Mama's good 
sandwiches? Margaret, would you 

like one of tuna? We catch these 
fish in our own lagoon. Tuna is 
our mainstay in these parts." 

Soon the children were eating 
as though they had never tasted 
anything so good. 

Sam Henri, a little Japanese 
boy with a cute, winsome smile, 
looked up at Tutu. 

"My mother says you make the 
best poi in all Hawaii," he said. 
"She was almost afraid to send 
some of her Japanese sushi to 
drop in your poi." 

"Japanese sushi!" Tutu ex- 
claimed. "Those are vinegar rice 
balls. We will love them, Sam 

Sam Henri jumped to his feet 
and ran to the jeep. He came 
back with a covered basket filled 
with tasty rice balls. 

"Mm-m-m! Good!" Margaret 
said, as she ate one. "That's a 
new taste for me. I thought I had 
tasted everything." 

"Sam Henri," Tutu said, "you 
tell your mother that I think she 
makes the best sushi in all 

After luncheon they leaned 
back in the tall grass and rested 
in the afternoon sunshine. Tutu 
told them Bible stories and 
legends of old Hawaii. Gradually, 
she led them into Sunday School 
songs, and the valley echoed with 
their joyous young voices. 

As the sun moved toward the 
west, Luana, sitting beside Tutu, 
spoke to her in a low voice. "Sing 
the 'Star-Spangled Banner' so 
everyone will stand up. Benjy has 
been sleeping long enough." 

So they sang the "Star-Span- 



gled Banner," and tears glistened 
in Margaret's eyes as she looked 
from one face to another, Hawai- 
ian, Japanese, Filipino, Chinese, 
and Haole. 

''Such devotion," she mur- 

"All Americans," Luana an- 
swered. "They know all five 
verses. Listen!" 

As the sun turned coral in the 
west, they went happily home- 
ward. Philip led the way. They 
were still singing as they rode 
down the valley road. 

Gaily colored lanterns were 
lighted in the garden, where the 
table was set for the birthday 
cake. There were thirteen candles 
for each boy. Family presents 
were piled high on two little 
tables beside the big one. 

Benjy jumped for joy when he 
saw his new steel guitar. He gave 
everyone a hug and a kiss. But 
Bo was very quiet as he un- 
wrapped his large painting set. 

Luana, watching him closely, 
wanted him to be pleased with it. 
She hoped he would understand 
that they had given him an ex- 
pensive set because they appreci- 
ated his talent and wanted him 
to develop it. 

His fingers moved across the 
pallet, then he carefully lifted 
each tube of paint and each box 
of crayons. He felt the quality of 
the drawing paper. At last he 
looked at Luana and Ben and his 
blue eyes were luminous. 

"Thanks," he said in a quiet 
voice. "How did you know ... I 
. . . wanted this?" 

"We know what you need," 

Luana answered. "You have a 
wonderful talent. Bo. We are so 
glad you are pleased with your 

"It's — the — greatest!" he 
said with a kind of rapture in his 

"Anybody home?" a strong, 
manly voice called from the lanai. 

Everyone turned to greet Elder 
Farnsworth, the branch presi- 
dent. He was a tall, slender, kind- 
ly man with gray hair streaked 
by the sun. His dark eyes were 
deep set and sincere. Everyone 
in the branch loved him dearly. 
He had an understanding heart 
and seemed able to discern what 
troubled people without question- 
ing them. 

"Happy birthday, boys," he 
said, smiling at Benjy and Bo. 
"I'm not really an uninvited 
guest. Your brother Philip in- 
vited me." 

"I surely did!" Philip said, 
coming forward to stand beside 
Elder Farnsworth. "I thought 
this would be a good time to tell 
my family, when we're all to- 
gether. You see, Mother and 
Dad," his eyes met theirs, "I have 
been asked about going on a 
mission. Elder Farnsworth has 
come to talk to you about it." 

Luana was not sure how she 
got through the next half hour. 
She was gracious and cordial to 
Elder Farnsworth. She was hum- 
bly grateful that Phihp was 
worthy to be called, but, later, 
she lay in bed wide-eyed and 
sleepless. Where was the money 
coming from to send Philip on 
his mission? 



Ben slept restlessly beside her. Margaret did not need the money 

She slipped out of bed without from the contest the way Luana 

disturbing him. She would go to needed it. She did not have a 

her lagoon where she had always teenage girl who needed to have 

gone to think and pray when she her teeth straightened; no daugh- 

needed help. ter who must have a pretty 

It was one of those Hawaiian wedding; no son who had been 

nights with a great, lustrous called on a mission; no twin boys 

pearly moon that turned the who needed lessons in art and 

white sand into glistening crystal, music. Margaret's husband was a 

A soft, feathery wind rippled the successful business man, and 

blue velvet waves in enchanting Margaret's paintings had sold for 

rhythm. No one could see this large sums of money. Didn't 

lagoon in the moonlight and not Margaret realize that Ben was 

yearn to see it again and again striving to hold on to this planta- 

and again. tion? 

Her heart beat up into her Why, oh, why, Luana asked 

throat! There, on the beach, was herself with a sob, did this con- 

a woman sitting before an easel, test mean so much to Margaret? 

painting a picture of her lagoon. Why did she work so desperate- 

It was Margaret! ly now in the middle of the night? 

Luana stood in stunned silence Quietly Luana knelt on the 

as she realized that Margaret, too, sandy beach, lifting her heart in 

had decided that this particular prayer. She asked her Heavenly 

place would make a perfect paint- Father to free her from selfish- 

ing for the contest. ness and resentment and cruel 

The white sand was cold be- jealousy of Margaret. Her heart 

neath Luana's feet. She shivered, cried out in remorse. She could 

although the night was warm, not bear to feel this way. Her 

Covering her face with her hands. Heavenly Father must know that 

she tried to hold back the resent- she was not asking to win the 

ment that almost choked her. contest for herself, but only for 

She was ashamed of the thoughts her husband and her children, 

that tumbled through her mind. (To be concluded) 


Gilean Douglas 

And now I go from water — from the sound 

Which has caressed me through the nights and days. 

My feet will turn to distant, arid ways — 

And sometimes stand quite still on desert ground 

Because the wind through dusty palms has sighed 

Like sleepy water on an ebbing tide. 




General Secretary-Treasurer Hulda Parker 

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 January 1958, page 47, and 
in the Relief Society Handbook oi Instiuctions. 


Central German Mission, Rhine-Ruhr District Singing Mothers Present Music for District Conference 

March 1963 

Seated at the right in the second row: Ruby Mae Richards, former presi- 
dent, Central German Mission Relief Society; seated, front row, at the right: 
Katherine M. Miller, chorister. 

Sister Richards reports: "This fine chorus furnished the music for the 
March district conference at Duesseldorf. Sister Miller is the wife of the 
building supervisor in Essen. We are very proud of our chorus, and especially 
proud of Sister Miller. She has had years of experience as chorister in her 
stake in Ogden, Utah. With her talent and her sweet, loving personality, she 
had our sisters singing like angels, in spite of the fact she could speak only a 
few words of German. 

"Also participating at the conference as organist was Sister Koehler; 
also present was Martha Amenda, President of the Rhine-Ruhr District Relief 

Ruth Watkins Benson is the new president of the Central German Mission. 


Torrance Stake (Colifornia) Singing Mnfhpn: Pre«(pnf Music f_. ^ ^ 

May 12, 1963 

Mary Jane Rahlf, President, Torrance Stake Relief Society, stands second 
from the right in the front row; Kathryn L. Squire, former president, stands 
at the left in the front row; Norma I. Gagon, chorister, stands next to Sister 
Squire; Jean L. Terry, accompanist, is seated at the piano. 

Sister Rahlf reports: "This conference marked the third one at which 
our Singing Mothers have been privileged to perform. In October 1962 they 
produced a very successful musical, and are planning a Christmas musical 
for 1963 under the very able direction of Sister Gagon. Our membership totals 
forty-five, but we are expanding rapidly with renewed enthusiasm." 

August 15, 1963 

Left to right: Ella O. Davis, Secretary-Treasurer; Delilah Marshall, First 
Counselor; Ella H. Rinderknecht, Second Counselor; Anna O. Smith, former 

Sister Smith reports: "The table arrangement was done by Hazel Hender- 
son, in colors of blue and gold. Most of the grapes she made of wax. For special 
occasions, Sister Henderson has made beautiful table arrangements for the 
Relief Society Stake Board." 

Lola Gibbons is the new president of Mount Logan Stake Relief Society. 



Napa Stake (California) Relief Society Presents "Singing Mothers' Night" 

May 17, 1963 

Front row, left to right: Florene Williams, chorister; Thurza Foster, 
organist; Karen Murdock, soprano soloist; Marjorie Remington, pianist. 

Second row from the back, left to right: Sarah Neerings, Education Coun- 
selor; Dorothy Blaisdell, President, Napa Stake Relief Society. 

The program consisted of a number of offerings by the Singing Mothers, 
as well as vocal solos and piano solos. The presentation was beautifully 
rendered and very well received. Singers participating represented the following 
wards: Fairfield, Napa, Napa Second, Vallejo, Vallejo Second, and Vacaville. 

Pocatello Stake (Idaho) Singing Mothers Present Music for Quarterly Conference 

May 5, 1963 

Marilyn Rishton, chorister, stands at the right on the front row, and Mary 
Merkeley, accompanist, stands at the left on the front row. 

Enily S. Romish, President, Pocatello Stake Relief Society, reports: "This 
group of fifty- three Singing Mothers presented the music for the morning 
session of the stake quarterly conference. The Church Authorities present, 
along with Pocatello Stake President Roland K. Hart, praised the Singing 
Mothers for their lovely appearance, and for their singing. We are particularly 
proud of the many young mothers in this group. This was the first conference 
in our new stake and ward building. It was less than a year ago when ground 
was broken for this building. Sister Lila Walch attended the conference as 
the representative of the General Board of Relief Society." 

Montpelier Stake (Idaho) Honors Ward Officers and Class Leaders at Leadership Meeting 

May 1963 

Front row, seated, left to right: ward presidents: Elma Boehme, Geneva; 
Elda Rohner, Montpelier Second Ward; Ora Bunderson, Montpelier Fifth 
Ward; Helen Lindsay, Dingle Ward; Zora Peterson, Montpelier Third Ward; 
Naomi Bacon, Georgetown Ward. 

The other sisters in the picture are counselors, secretaries, and other 
officers and class leaders. 

June R. Shepherd, President, Montpelier Stake Relief Society, reports: 
"Ward and class leaders who attained a record of 100 per cent attendance at 
stake leadership meetings during the year were honored by Montpelier Stake 
Relief Society at the closing meeting. Each sister was presented with a lovely 
corsage made by Evelyn Kunz, stake work meeting leader. Montpelier Fifth 
Ward Relief Society also received special honors for having eighty -five per cent 
of their officers and class leaders in attendance at leadership meetings all 
during the year, and also for having had a record of perfect attendance of 
executive officers. This ward was presented with the book The Mormon Story 
for their library." 




Nampa Stake (Idaho) Handwork Display at "Friendship Day" 

May 3, 1963 

Alta Fuhriman, President, Nampa Stake Relief Society, reports: "Our 
stake Relief Society had a 'Friendship Day' as our last event of the season. 
We had printed invitations made, and enough were given to each ward so that 
each sister could receive one and also receive extras to be sent to her friends 
and neighbors. For our program, the stake Singing Mothers furnished two 
numbers. One was a special arrangement of the familiar Latter-day Saint 
hymn 'Come, Come, Ye Saints.' The literature department arranged and 
directed the literature presentation which the General Board gave at the 
Relief Society Conference in October 1962. We are happy to say it was very 
well done. We had a guest book to be signed by each one attending, one side 
for members, and the other side for guests. We had ordered 150 copies of The 
Relief Society Magazine so that we would have a copy to give to each of our 
guests. We were pleased that we had so many guests that we ran out of copies 
of the Magazine, yet sorry that we did not have enough for all. 

"After the program everyone was invited to see our handicraft fair on 
display in the cultural hall. It was there, also, that we served refreshments 
of homemade cookies and frappe punch. We were thrilled with the success of 
the day. There were over 600 in attendance. Many favorable comments and 
expressions of appreciation were received from our guests, as well as from 
our members." 

Orange County Stake (California) Inter-Faith Social 

May 24, 1963 

Left to right: Mary S. Grasteit, President, Orange County Stake Relief 
Society; Ruth Bell, Work Director Counselor; Mary Middleton, work meeting 
leader; Kathern Markes, Education Counselor. 

Sister Grasteit reports: "We held our first Inter-Faith Social on May 
24, 1963, and were very pleased with its success. Our program was on the Re- 
lief Society. To a narration on the history of Relief Society, we added film 
slides, and each class leader gave an over-all view of the purpose of her day 
at Relief Society. Our Singing Mothers added great inspiration to the day, 
climaxed by a special arrangement of 'Come, Come, Ye Saints.' Everyone was 
invited to remain seated after the benediction, and the Singing Mothers sang 
'Come to the Fair' as a musical invitation to join in the cultural hall for 
displays and refreshments. 

"Each of the class leaders, along with the Magazine representative, 
planned her display table to show the educational value of Relief Society. We 
have ten wards, and each ward was assigned one table for the work display. 
The tables included actual demonstrations of bread making, cake decorating, 
candy, and sweet rolls, plus how to make yarn flowers, organza .roses, and 
flower arranging. Other tables were filled with such items as smocked pillows, 
pixie dolls, mosaics, children's clothes, and the Christmas table, as shown in 
the picture. Our serving tables were decorated with beautiful floral arrange- 
ments of organza roses, which had been made by our board members. We had 
an attendance of 450 women, of whom more than fifty per cent were non- 
members of the Church, with at least thirty different church denominations 
being represented. The vistors were thrilled and amazed at the wonderful 
program of Relief Society, and many expressed a desire to attend." 



Kanab Stake (Utah) Honors Visiting Teochers at Convention 

May 17, 1963 

At left: Estella Jackson, Fredonia Ward, age eighty-six, who has served 
sixty-nine years as a visiting teacher; at the right: Denise Parks, Page Ward, 
nineteen years of age, a recent convert to the Church, who has served as a 
visiting teacher for a few months. 

Cecil M. Fisher, President, Kanab Stake Relief Society, reports: "On 
May 17th we had a wonderful visiting teacher convention. We were thrilled 
to honor Estella Jackson, who has served for sixty-nine years as a visiting 
teacher, and is still active in that calling. We feel that this is a most out- 
standing record. We also honored Ruby Swapp from the Kanab North Ward 
who has been a visiting teacher for fifty years. Also honored was Denise Parks, 
Page Ward, nineteen years of age, a new convert to the Church, who has been 
a visiting teacher for a few months, and is continuing in this work." 

Attractive programs, featuring the Relief Society emblem on the cover, 
and listing the names of all the visiting teachers in the stake, were distributed 
at the convention. The number of years of service of each visiting teacher was 
listed, as well as her ward or branch. 



THEOLOGY • The Doctrine and Covenants 

Lesson 55 — Missionary Service 
Elder Roy W. Doxey 

(Text: Doctrine and Covenants, Sections 71, 73, 74, and 75) 

For First Meeting, April 1964 

Objective: To realize that the restored gospel, through the missionary program, is the 
key to happiness in this life and eternal joy in the life to come. 


Following the four November 
1831 conferences, Oliver Cowdery 
and John Whitmer left for Jackson 
County, Missouri, in obedience to 
revelation. (D & C Section 69.) 
Joseph Smith resumed the revision 
of the Bible with Sidney Rigdon 
acting as scribe. (DHC 1:238.) A 
month before this, Ezra Booth, men- 
tioned in Lesson 50, Relief Society 
Magazine, August 1963, apostatized 
and set out to bring harm to the 
Prophet and to the Church. His 
efforts to do both of these appar- 
ently met with partial success. In 
the first instance, it was some of his 
efforts and his participation in mob 
action against the Prophet that 
brought physical l.arm to the Proph- 
et. {DHC 1:261-265.) His attack 
against the Church and its members 

was made in a series of nine letters 
published by the Ohio Star (Rav- 
enna, Ohio). They consisted of 
slanderous denunciations and false- 
hoods concerning Joseph and the 
Church. (Section 71.) 

In view of these efforts of Satan 
to thwart the work of the kingdom, 
the Prophet and Sidney were called 
by revelation to preach the gospel 
in the regions adjacent to Kirtland. 
(D & C 71:1-3.) An indication of 
the message delivered by these two 
missionaries on this special mission 
from December 1831 until the 10th 
of January 1832, is given in the 
Prophet's journal. He said it was 
a vindication of the cause of the 
Redeemer, that the day of venge- 
ance was coming upon this gener- 
ation, and that prejudice and dark- 
ness caused some to persecute the 



true Church. Much of the bigotry 
caused by the apostate's letters was 
allayed through this mission. 

The revelation counseled these 
brethren to confound their enemies 
both in public and private, with the 
promise that their opponents would 
be shamed. [Ihid., verse 7.) It is 
worthy to note that when the Lord's 
servants are attacked, it is tanta- 
mount to attacking the Lord. 
(Ibid., verse 8.) 

Pleach the Gospel 

The commandment to participate 
in debate was given to the Prophet 
because of the unusual circum- 
stances noted above. The Lord, on 
the other hand, had counseled his 
servants to preach the first prin- 
ciples, to obtain the Spirit that it 
might convey the truth to the hear- 
er, and thus make known the mes- 
sage of the dispensation. (D & C 
33; 34; 42:12-17.) 

An experience of the Prophet in 
October 1833, is an excellent ex- 
ample of the present counsel of the 
General Authorities that missionar- 
ies should not indulge in debate or 
argument, but they should preach 
the simple principles by the Spirit. 
While in Canada with Sidney Rig- 
don at the house of Freeman Nick- 
erson's brother, the latter desired to 
match his Bible learning with that 
of the Prophet in an attempt to 
disprove Joseph Smith as a prophet. 
One night the opportunity came 
when Freeman Nickerson placed 
the Bible on the table and said, 
"There! Now, go to it!" The Proph- 
et took up the challenge by telling 
the simple but powerful and con- 
vincing account of the restoration of 
the gospel. The Spirit of the Lord 

was so manifest in his testimony 
that opposition no longer remained. 
By the aid of Freeman's brother, 
meetings were held that resulted in 
fourteen baptisms, including the 
Nickerson who was determined to 
show the Prophet wrong. (Evans, 
John Henry: Joseph Smith an 
American Prophet, pp. 86-88.) 

Lack oi Success in Opposition 

The Lord's work was not restored 
to fail. As pointed out in an earlier 
lesson (Lesson 51, ReUef Society 
Magazine, September 1963), the 
kingdom of God is on the earth in 
the form of the Church, and the 
Lord has planned that it shall never 
be destroyed nor given to another 
people, but it shall stand forever. 
(Daniel 2:44.) In Section 71, an 
aspect of this foreknown eventuality 
is given in verses 9 and 10: 

Verily, thus saith the Lord unto you — 
there is no weapon that is formed against 
you shall prosper; 

And if any man lift his voice against you 
he shall be confounded in mine own due 

It is apparent that this assurance 
of defeat for those who lift their 
voices in opposition to the Prophet 
includes not only the experiences of 
the missionaries of 1831-32, but of 
any time. To speak against the 
Prophet of this dispensation is the 
same as warring against the Church 
which he established, and also 
against God. 

Published opposition was not the 
only ''weapon" used against the 
Prophet and the saints. Physical 
persecution has been a common 
means of attempting to thwart the 
purpose of the Lord. Despite the 
adversary's 'Sveapons," the work of 



God has rolled on until today the 
voice of opposition is largely sub- 
merged by the prophesied, inevitable 
progress of successful endeavors. 

Commandments Are True 

Obedience to truth is the pre- 
scription for happiness here and 
eternal joy in the life to come. The 
Lord admonished the Prophet and 
Sidney Rigdon to keep the com- 
mandments for they are true. (D & 
C 71:11.) The knowledge of truth 
is given by the Spirit which the mis- 
sionary is counseled to receive and 
to teach by. President Joseph F. 
Smith stated the importance of ad- 
hering to the truth in these words: 

Our hope of salvation must be founded 
upon the truth, the whole truth, and noth- 
ing but the truth, for we cannot build 
upon error and ascend into the courts of 
eternal truth and enjoy the glory and 
exaltation of the kingdom of our God. 
That cannot be done (Conference Report, 
October 1917, page 3). 

Section 73 

Section 73 is one of the shortest 
revelations in the Doctrine and 
Covenants. After performing mis- 
sionary work in several Ohio cities 
not far from Kirtland, Joseph Smith 
was commanded by this revelation 
to continue the work of revising the 
Bible which was interrupted by the 
mission call of Section 71. This was 
an undertaking which began in New 
York State and was set aside as other 
matters needed immediate attention. 
In a subsequent lesson some of the 
contributions of this work will be 
indicated. For the present, how- 
ever, it should be known that many 
important contributions have been 
made to our understanding of the 

Bible as a result of that ''transla- 

An interesting expression, ''gird 
up your loins and be sober," is 
found in verse 6 of Section 73. The 
admonition "gird up your loins" 
means to be prepared for a journey, 
or for a certain work. In this sense 
it is found in the hymn "Come, 
Come, Ye Saints." In this scripture, 
we are informed that it is to be 
understood as used by Peter, "Gird 
up the loins of your minds" (I 
Peter 1:13). In other words, the 
mind should be free from those 
things which deter one from the 
work at hand. To be sober means 
to be of a serious mind. (Doctrine 
and Covenants Commentary, page 


Section is — Introduction 

At the conclusion of a conference 
held in Amherst, Ohio, a number 
of the elders asked the Prophet to 
inquire of the Lord concerning their 
specific duties in bringing people to 
a sense of their condition. In re- 
cording this fact the Prophet quoted 
a scripture that emphasizes that 
everyone sins and, therefore, is in 
need of repentance. (D & C 33:4; 
DHC 1:242-243.) 

The opening verses of Section 75 
may be applied to the thousands of 
missionaries of this dispensation. In 
these five verses the missionary is 
commissioned to proclaim the 
Lord's gospel in earnestness, eschew- 
ing idleness, and to be mighty in 
that proclamation. The earnest mis- 
sionary's message should be deliv- 
ered as the sound of a trumpet. This 
expression alludes to the sounds of 
this instrument that can be heard 
far and wide with mighty blasts. 



Such an allusion seems to carry with 
it the importance of the message 
since it is to be made known with- 
out shame or diffidence on the part 
of the Lord's servant. The follow- 
ing testimony of President Brigham 
Young is typical of those who have 
received the truth and made it a 
part of their lives: 

When I first commenced preaching, I 
made up my mind to declare the things 
that I understood, feadess of friends and 
threats, and regardless of caresses. They 
were nothing to me, for it was my duty 
to rise before a congregation of strangers 
and say that the Lord lives, that He has 
revealed Himself in this our day, that He 
has gi\'en to us a Prophet, and brought 
forth the new and everlasting covenant for 
the restoration of Israel, and if that was 
all I could say, I must be just as satisfied 
as though I could get up and talk for 
hours. . . . 

With regard to preaching, let a man 
present himself before the Saints, or go 
into the world before the nobles and great 
men of the earth, and let him stand up full 
of the Holy Ghost, full of the power of 
God, and though he may use words and 
sentences in an awkward style, he will con- 
\'ince and convert more, of the truth, than 
can the most polished orator destitute of 
the Holy Ghost; for that Spirit will pre- 
pare the minds of the people to receive 
the truth, and the spirit of the speaker 
will influence the hearers so that they will 
feel it {Journal of Discourses 4:21). 

Missionaries are promised by the 
Lord that if they labor faithfully, 
they ''shall be laden with many 
sheaves, and crowned with honor, 
and glory, and immortalitv, and 
eternal life" (D & C 75:5).^ 

Missionary Assignments 

Section 75 contains many mission- 
ary assignments. (D & C 75:6-17, 
30-36.) The names of some of 
these elders are well known in our 
history, such as Orson Hyde, Orson 

Pratt, Hyrum Smith, and others, 
but some are mentioned about 
whom little is known. This does 
not mean, however, that their labors 
were not as acceptable to the Lord 
nor that their reward will not be as 
great as the well-known. The 
promise of eternal glory is for all the 
faithful, whether apostle or elder. 
Each will be judged by his per- 
formance in accordance with his 
opportunities for service. (On pages 
435-436, 439-440 of the Doctrine 
and Covenants Commentary will be 
found biographical sketches of the 
elders referred to in Section 75.) 

How should these elders find suc- 
cess in their missionary labors? This 
was the question which they de- 
sired the Prophet to ask of the Lord. 
The answer was that they should 
pray to the Lord that he might give 
the Comforter which would teach 
the things that were necessary for 
them to have. (D & C 75:10-11.) 
This is the way of the true mission- 
ary. Circumstances vary due to the 
area, people, and the particular cir- 
cumstances at the moment of con- 
tacting the prospective investigator. 
Divine guidance is the answer in all 
of these cases; nonetheless, the mis- 
sionary is to study the people and 
the culture. The key to receiving 
the benefits of the Holy Chost is 
prayer. The Lord does not give 
if the person does not knock. The 
missionary is given the promise that 
through his faithfulness the Lord 
will be with him to the end. (Ihid., 
verses 13-14-) Others are told that 
by their faithfulness they shall over- 
come all things, resulting in their 
being lifted up at the last day. 
[Ihid., verse 16.) These promises 
enforce the truth that constancy and 



devotion to duty are the keys to 
receiving eternal life, or exaltation. 
President Anthon H. Lund said: 
''Our religion is one in which we 
are called upon to show our faith 
by our works." As an example of 
this truism, missionary calls made 
upon the Church membership are 
most appropriate. The question as 
to how much pay will be received 
for this service is far from the mind 
of the Latter-day Saint. The impel- 
ling motive is one of duty that the 
glorious message of the gospel may 
be shared with others. Distance or 
place is not a consideration, but 
rather it is, 'Til go where you want 
me to go, dear Lord." 

Missionary Pwcedures 

In missionary language, the ''going 
from house to house" is known as 
"tracting." (D& 075:18.) When 
the missionary is received into a 
house, he is counseled to leave his 
blessing with that house. {Ihid., 
verse 19.) The gospel is the bless- 
ing, although the prayer in the 
home for the benefit of the host 
is a direct way in which this counsel 
may be followed. 

The missionaries in the day of 
judgment will be judges of the 
houses that reject them, and it will 
be more tolerable for the heathen 
in that day than for those who re- 
jected them. (D & C 75:21-22.) 
As President John Taylor has 
pointed out, judgment, under God, 
is committed to Christ; then to the 
Twelve Apostles; and then to the 
saints, including certain officers in 
the Priesthood. (Mediation and 
Atonement, Chapter 22.) President 
Charles W. Penrose said: 

. . . The great judgment that is to come 
will not be altogether performed by one 
individual sitting upon a great white throne 
and passing judgment upon the milhons 
upon milhons ot the earth's inhabitants. 
God's house is a house of order, and the 
Lord will have agents appointed as he 
has now behind the veil as well as in the 
flesh, and when the great judgment comes, 
all will be judged according to their works, 
and the books will be opened, and the 
Book of Life will be scanned and the man's 
acts and the women's acts upon the earth 
will be disclosed, and we will all confess 
in our souls that the judgment is just and 
righteous, because it will be uttered and 
delivered by one having authority and the 
seal of God will be upon it. (Conference 
Report, October 1916, page 24). 

Another testimony to this effect 
is given in the Doctiine and Cove- 
nants Commentary, page 440. 

The idea that it will be more 
tolerable for the heathen in the day 
of judgment than for those who re- 
ject the gospel, suggests that since 
the heathen will be assigned to the 
terrestrial kingdom (D & C 45:54; 
76:72), the willfully corrupt may 
be in a lesser kingdom. Unless the 
missionary does his work faithfully, 
he may be accused by those whom 
he neglected. (Ihid.y 43:19-20.) 

Assist in the Work 

The members of the Church in 
1832 were placed under the respon- 
sibility of assisting the families of 
the missionaries who could not sus- 
tain them. (Ihid.y 75:24-25.) In 
case there were some who could not 
go on missions they should provide 
for their families and ''would in no- 
wise lose his [their] crown." How- 
ever, they were admonished to labor 
in the Church. {Ihid.y verse 28.) 
Activity in the kingdom is an essen- 
tial in obtaining the blessings of 



In keeping with the command- 
ment to provide for one's family, 
the virtue of industry is demanded. 
Idleness is a sin. There is always 
something for the person to do in 
the Church; there is always oppor- 
tunity to improve one's mind by 
study; idleness means neglect and 
waste, both of which are opposed 
to the spirit and letter of the gospel. 
[Ihid., verse 29.) 

Section 74 — Background 

While translating the Bible, a 
question was raised about one of 
Paul's statements concerning an 
aspect of marriage relations. Sec- 
tion 74 is an interpretation of I 
Corinthians 7:14. It appears that in 
the Corinth Branch of the Church 
there arose the question of whether 
or not the convert should leave the 
nonmember husband or wife. Paul's 
counsel was that this should not be 
done because a sanctifying effect 
was brought into the home by the 
member of the Church. It was 
maintained by some that if the wife 
should leave her husband because 
of his not being a member, she 
should also leave the children. Paul 

declared against such a doctrine, 
which brings us to the real message 
of the Section — ''little children 
are holy, being sanctified through 
the atonement of Jesus Christ" 
(Ibid, 74:7). 

This passage and others in our 
modern books of scripture {Ihid., 
29:46-48) have cleared away some 
of the false doctrines that grew up 
during the period of apostasy re- 
garding the salvation of little chil- 
dren. By revelation to Joseph Smith, 
children who die before the age of 
accountability — eight years — are 
saved in the celestial kingdom 
through the atonement of Jesus 
Christ. (Lesson 20, Reliei Society 
Magazine, October 1959.) 

Questions for Discussion 

1. Explain: "There is no weapon that is 
formed against you that shall prosper." 

2. Discuss: Truth will triumph, and it 
must be lived for one to receive eter- 
nal life. 

3. Define the gospel as the power of God 
unto salvation. 

4. Why is it necessary for the missionary 
to seek divine guidance in his work? 

5. What responsibility is attached to the 
missionary work? 


Truths to Live By From the Doctrine and Covenants 

Message 55 - "Wherefore, Be Not Weary in Well-Doing" (D & C 64:33). 
Christine H. Rohinson 

For First Meeting, April 1964 

Objective: To show that great accomplishments come through doing small things well. 

^A^HEN the Lord gave the instruc- accomplishments come out of doing 
tion ''Be not weary in well-doing/' small things well. In the same verse 
he emphasized the fact that great in the Doctrine and Covenants, he 



said, ''out of small things proceedeth 
that which is great." As we admire 
and applaud the honors which come 
to certain individuals as a result of 
their great accomplishments, we are 
prone to overlook the fact that these 
outstanding achievements have 
come only as a result of their hav- 
ing done well a great number of 
small and, often, tedious routine 
things. This is true of a priceless 
piece of art, of a fine symphony, or 
of a beautiful building architectural- 
ly. Only when minute care is given 
to the small details, can the finished 
product be great. 

The story is told that when 
Michelangelo was working on one 
of his great masterpieces, a friend 
i called and observed him at his work. 
I Some weeks later this friend visited 
I the master artist again, but could see 
I very little change in the painting. 
I When he commented thus, Michel- 
I angelo pointed out that he had 
j: changed slightly the expression of 
|l the eyes, had added a little color 
I! here, and changed a line there. 
"But these are small details," the 
friend replied. 

''Yes," the artist responded, "but 
perfection is composed of details, 
but perfection is no detail." 
I In avoiding "weariness in well-do- 
' ing," we should recognize the joy 
that comes from doing well the lit- 
tle, good things. It is a truism that 
no one can really accomplish great 
things without being good, and 
most frequently true goodness 
springs from the simple little things. 
Recently a prominent newspaper 
published an editorial praising the 

life of an outstanding woman who 
had passed away. The editorial 
emphasized the fact that her life 
had been beautifully meaningful, 
because in many little ways she had 
brought inspiration and encourage- 
ment to others. She had consist- 
ently put service above any con- 
sideration of personal comfort or 
convenience. Over a long period of 
years, on a firm, self-imposed sched- 
ule, she had frequently visited the 
ill and shut-ins. On a birthday in 
her late eighties she acknowledged 
the gift of a box of candy by saying, 
"This is wonderful, I'll take it to 
some of the old folks I'm visiting." 
Most of these "old folks" were 
younger than she. This is the type 
of selfless, dedicated "well-doing" 
which distinguishes a life and makes 
it great. Someone has said that the 
requisite for great living is the abil- 
ity to do common things uncom- 
monly well. All of us can wisely 
profit by applying to our lives the 
divine instruction of not wearying 
in well-doing. 

James Allen in his book The 
Heavenly Liie, page 39, sums up 
this thought with these lines, "Lay 
up each year thy harvest of well- 
doing, wealth that kings nor thieves 
can take away. When all the things 
thou callest thine, goods, pleasures, 
honors fall; thou in thy virtue shall 
survive them all." 

Let us follow the admonition of 
the Lord when he said, "Where- 
fore, be not weary in well-doing," 
recognizing the fact that "out of 
small things proceedeth that which 
is great." 



The Latter-day Saint Home 

(A Course Expected to Be Used by Wards and Branches at Work Meeting) 

Discussion 15 — Planning the Family Wardrobe 

Dr. \^irginia F. Cutler 

For Second Meeting, April 1964. 

Objcctixe: To help each family member feel well dressed regardless of family income. 

Mother, I need a dress for next 
Saturday night, and there is a love- 
ly one in the shop window that Yd 
like to buy. May I have it?" 

Are you ever confronted with 
such problems? If so, what is the 
wisest thing to do? To say yes, and 
try to adjust other expenditures 
through the month, or does such a 
question cause you to stop and 
think and wonder how you can do 
some intelligent planning to avoid 
such emergency calls? 

I hope the latter is the case, be- 
cause wardrobe planning is the 
theme for this discussion. Many 
people spend too much for clothes 
and still ''have nothing to wear." 
The percentage of the family in- 
come spent for clothing may be as 
low as five per cent and go as high 
as twenty-five per cent, but the 
amount spent does not alone de- 
termine how well dressed the fam- 
ily will be. People sometimes buy 
clothing because it looks well on 
the model in the shop window, be- 
cause of sales persuasion, because of 
high style, because they think it a 
bargain, or because they need it im- 
mediately and have no time to look 

Such unwise ways of spending 
the clothes budget do not bring the 
satisfaction possible where buying 
is done according to a previous 
plan. Cowper described the results 
of such buying thus: 

Dress drains our cellar dry 

And keeps our larder lean; puts out our 

And introduces hunger, frost, and woe. 
Where peace and hospitality might reign. 

But apparel oft proclaims the 
man, so you had better have a care- 
fully worked out plan. A full lar- 
der and tranquility will be your 
reward, and you will have the 
consciousness that everyone in the 
family is well dressed. 

How do you start? Here is the 
first step: go through every closet 
and drawer that contains clothing 
to be sure you know what each 
member of the family has. The old- 
er members of the family might 
help in this by going through theirs 
with you. Sort the contents as you 
look them over in three piles. Keep 
those that are in good condition 
that will be worn and enjoyed. Put 
aside those which would be worn if 
they were mended or dyed or re- 



modeled. Box for disposal the mis- 
takes, the misfits, those which will 
never be worn again which can be 
given away with profit. 

Step number two: have a note- 
book, write the name of each per- 
son in the family, allowing sufficient 
space to list each person's needs. 
Make three divisions for each (i) 
Sunday best, (2) everyday, (3) 
special; what you have and what 
you need. 

It will then be easy to list what 
each person has that is usable, and 
the process of sorting and listing will 
suggest possible needs for the year 

Step number three: have a family 
council and discuss your plan, stress- 
ing these items: 

a. A Sunday outfit is important for 
every individual in the family. Psycho- 
logically, one is more likely to act his best 
if he looks his best, and surely one should 
be at his best on the Lord's Day. Check 
your list and see what the family can do 
to get in condition for Sunday wear and 
decide what is needed for the year ahead. 

b. Appropriate daytime clothes for school 
or work are essential. One can forget 
about how he looks if he knows he is 
appropriately dressed and can then con- 
centrate on his work. Drip-dry shirts and 
blouses, easy-to-care-for skirts and trous- 
ers, and no-iron underwear lighten the 
task of caring for these clothes and 
should be a major consideration in plan- 
ning for the year ahead. 

c. Sportswear and clothes for special 
occasions are important, but come third 
on the hst and should not swallow up 
•most of the budget. A swimsuit for one, 
tennis outfit for another, a cub scout or 
party dress for others are examples. Spe 
cial interests determine what should be in- 

d. Where the money will come from 
and the amount that can be allocated for 
clothing require careful study. How 

much money will be needed for the year 
ahead? Make an estimate. What can 
each do to help get what is needed? Here 
is a splendid opportunity to encourage in- 
itiative in earning and in learning how to 
make and care for clothing. 

Step number four: learn the basic 
rules for thrifty shopping. 

1. Shop with a hst; buy only the items 
planned for; know what you want, and 
don't depend on a saleslady to tell you 
what to get. 

2. Have a color plan, a basic color 
could be decided upon for each family 
member. Then, whatever is purchased 
can be coordinated in various combina- 

3. Buy at the end of the season, and 
get what you need at a fraction of the 
cost paid by early-season shoppers. 

4. Look for good-quality fabrics and 
simple, beautiful lines that will bring 

5. Learn to sew and make your own 
clothes; a clever woman with a needle and 
thread can stretch the budget twice the 

Perhaps most important of all, the 
homemaker must become clothes 
conscious to know how clothes can 
lift the soul, if they are flattering in 
line and scale and texture. And 
don't forget color. Just because a 
woman is advancing in years doesn't 
mean that she should shift into neu- 
tral. Color is important for all 

The homemaker by her own ap- 
pearance can set the example. By 
taking stock of herself she can en- 
courage family members to take 
stock of themselves. An attractive 
mother in a well-kept home can set 
the tone for high family morale. 
Careful wardrobe planning can be 
of inestimable help in this, as well 
as in balancing the budget. 


LITERATURE • America's Literature 

The Last Hundred Years 

Lesson 47 — Sinclair Lewis, Annerican Self-Satirist (1885-1951) 

Elder Briant S. Jacobs 

(Textbook: America's Literature by James D. Hart and Clarence Gohdes, 
Dryden Press, New York, pp. 855-866) 

For Third Meeting, April 1964 

Objective: To study and evaluate middle-class United States of America during the 
1920'$ as represented in the life and writings of Sinclair Lewis. 

''Mirror, mirror on the wall, who 
is fairest of us all?'' The relatively 
unknown writer, Harry Sinclair 
Lewis, created his most telling mir- 
ror of the 1920's on his typewriter; 
rather than proclaiming the most 
beautiful and fair, he caricatured 
himself and those whom he had 
known best among the 2,500 peo- 
ple of Sauk Centre, Minnesota, his 
typical, all-American home town 
which he was to make immortal. 
His five major novels which ap- 
peared during the 1920's had a 
magic in them which neither he 
nor his publishers could foresee or 
control. His novels sold far into the 
millions, exceeding even his fondest 
dreams for the fame and money he 
knew one day were to be his, all 
earned, to be sure, by his two index 
fingers pecking at the keyboard so 
steadily that his hands and wrists 
became sore. Then, as now, few 
critics list his name among Ameri- 
ca's greatest writers. He himself was 
painfully aware that his mimicking 
transcriptions of reality often 
seemed nearer a journalistic tran- 

script of everyday living than the 
great literary art or style young Hal 
had once dreamed of achieving. 
While many loyal writer friends and 
literary critics defended his work 
and praised it highly, he founded no 
such literary school as did Howells 
before him or Hemingway after 
him. How, then, are we to account 
for the magic of his appeal? 

A full accounting would be pre- 
sumptuous, so devious are the pat- 
terns of public taste, but some ap- 
peals are obvious. The first and 
greatest is as immediate as a yel- 
lowed high school year book or a 
family photograph album. A sec- 
ond appeal may have been the 
emergence of a new identity for the 
Nation as it struggled to find itself 
among the complex and multiple 
cross-currents of our modern age; 
this he vividly portrayed in his writ- 
ings. A third appeal may have been 
the ''revolt from the village," the 
smugness and mediocrity of small 
town life, which found, in Lewis, a 
major spokesman. He sometimes 
cruelly satirized the shortcomings of 



established institutions — social, in- 
tellectual, patriotic, economic and 
religious — for smugness, compla- 
cency, and mediocrity which he 
found to be their dominant charac- 
teristics. In detailing with meticu- 
lous and penetrating realism the 
human foibles of middle-class A- 
merica, Lewis was both idealist and 
realist, hating his drab, stereotyped 
home town yet loving it. The seeds 
of all his villains and heroes lay 
within himself, there tossed about 
and torn apart by the raging con- 
flicts which he always tried so 
desperately to resolve by writing 
them out of himself. 

The Lewis Family Life 

Lewis' father. Dr. E. J. Lewis, 
was a stern, methodical, parsimoni- 
ous man, proud of his Puritan an- 
cestors and dedicated to the virtues 
of responsibility and hard work. A 
school teacher before he began 
"reading medicine" in a Minnesota 
doctor's office, he believed strongly 
in education as a tool necessary for 
success. Lewis' mother was a fellow 
teacher, reared in Waseca, Minne- 
sota, who gave birth to Harry, her 
third son, in 1885. She was sickly 
with tuberculosis and pleurisy, and 
died when he was six. A year later 
Dr. Lewis brought a stepmother in- 
to their home. She often read to 
"Hal," gave him the companionship 
not to be found in his father, and 
earned Hal's lifelong affection. 

When the oldest brother left a 
Chicago dental school in mid-term 
he returned home to work in the 
flour mill and to marry, but he was 
never to be much either in the fam- 
ily or in Hal's life. It was his 
brother Claude who was the father's 

favorite son, Claude who followed 
his father's footsteps, to medicaj 
school and a profitable medical 
practice in St. Cloud, Minnesota, 
Claude who was wanted and suc- 
cessful, Claude whom the gangly, 
lonely, and teased Hal envied as a 
boy and whom he tried to impress 
for sixty years of his life. 

Without a strong sense of be- 
longing in his home, scorned by the 
one girl to whom he made puppy- 
love advances, left out by Claude 
and the older boys whom he so ad- 
mired because of his being the "little 
brother" who always wanted to tag 
along, cast out by boys of his own 
age save for one lone friend, Hal 
found comforting escape in keeping 
a diary and in the English literature 
books which his father kept in the 
house but never mentioned. The 
beauty and idealism of the romantic 
poets best filled his needs, while 
nature was far more real to him in 
the pages of his lifelong passion, 
Thoreau's Walden, than were the 
rolling Minnesota prairies. Little 
as there was to do in plain Sauk 
Centre, decades before the advent 
of organized recreation, lonely Har- 
ry did less. Over six feet before he 
was sixteen, he was so awkward at 
dancing that he never learned, yet 
he attended the school dances by 
sitting in a corner and reading a 
book the entire evening. 

When he was seventeen his par- 
ents sent him to Oberlin Academy 
in Ohio, a Congregational school, 
where he experienced a religious 
ferment and strongly desired to be- 
come a foreign missionary. But 
after a summer in Sauk Centre he 
forgot this dream, while his father 
decided on Yale as best preparation 



for his professional future. Here, Street has been translated into 
as at Oberlin, he attended practically nearly every European language, it 
no social functions, often walked is usually considered that Bahhitt 
alone in the fields, and during the and Arrowsmith constitute Lewis' 
summers traveled by cattle boat to best work. Exemplifying his non- 
Liverpool and Panama. With a conformity, he declined the Pulitzer 
school chum he spent a month as Prize (for Bahhitt) in 1925. It was 
janitor at Helicon Hall, an experi- through the character of Bahhitt, 
ment in communal living dominated an American businessman, that 
by the socialist reformer and novel- Lewis truly pictured himself. How- 
ist, Upton Sinclair. With no funds ever, in 1930, when he was the first 
from his father until he returned to American to be offered the Nobel 
school, he made a meager living do- Prize (for Arrowsmith), he accept- 
ing hack work for various maga- ed. Though before his lonely death 
zincs, then returned to Yale, from in Rome in 1952 at the age of sixty- 
which he was graduated in 1907. He seven he was to write over twenty 
toyed with the possibilities of study- novels, innumerable short stories and 
ing law and medicine, but, instead essays, his best work was done by 
followed the pattern of his greatest 1930, impossible though it was for 
college interest and decided to be- him ever to admit it. 
come a writer. 

Sorely disappointed in Harry's Homeless Harry 

evident irresponsibility. Dr. Lewis After Main Street made Sinclair 

gave him no financial or moral sup- Lewis a Great Personage his success 

port. Completely on his own, Har- was undeniably proved to his family 

ry wrote magazine articles and and home town in terms they could 

corrected copy in newspaper offices, understand — money. Throughout 

finally settling in New York City the remainder of his life Lewis re- 

where, in 1914, he married Grace turned often, but never could he 

Hegger, a talented and beautiful stay long, neither there nor any 

young girl who was supporting her- place. Having achieved success, he 

self by working on the staff of continued to pursue success even 

Vogue magazine. In 1917, his first more relentlessly; all he ever gained 

son. Wells Lewis, was born. Before from his endless self-driving were 

his first great success in 1920, when fame and money. He was a bundle 

Main Street was published, he wrote of restless, nervous energy which 

four novels which were mildly never exhausted itself. An ''amus- 

praised. ing, ardent person, condemned to 

After the phenomenal sales of perpetual vitality," he spent his life 

Main Street guaranteed both his searching for the romantic ideals 

fame and his fortune, Lewis began of peace, goodness, and beauty 

the great decade of his life, sustained which he had first loved in his lone- 

by the wide acceptance of his best Iv childhood; not finding them in 

novels, Bahhitt (1922), Arrovvsniith the world about him, he attacked 

(1925), Elmer Gantry (1927), and human weakness wherever he found 

IDodswoTth (1929). Although Main it, both in himself and in others. 



more and more frequently exploding 
in violent tantrums at those who, 
in the slightest, opposed his will or 
doubted his literary greatness. 

Sinclair Lewis inspired genuine 
love in Grace Hegger, his first wife, 
and in Dorothy Thompson, his sec- 
ond, though both left him, alco- 
holism being a contributing factor. 
He loved jokes and plotting out 
actions and conversations which 
amused others. Though stingy at 
times, he was often most ger^erous, 
both with his own family and with 
struggling writers. When he so 
chose, he had a boyish charm and 
whimsical warmth which gave those 
near him delight. Most often in his 
earlier years he could be tender and 
gentle to adults; never could he com- 
municate with children, including 
his own. 

Main Street 

Everything in Lewis' life was 
secondary to his writing. His writ- 
ing he always loved; to the end of 
his life he frequently lost himself in 
the intensity of work, successfully 
using his writing as escape from the 
personal problems he could neither 
face nor solve. And when he com- 
bined his continuing drive to know 
life as it really was with Sauk Centre 
(called Gopher Prairie in the novel) 
which he loved so fully that after 
his youth he could not bear living 
there — only then was such a con- 
flicting combination ready to pro- 
duce Main Street, which appeared 
in 1920. 

The novel centers about Carol 
Kennicott, wife of the complaisant 
village doctor. Having been brought 
to Gopher Prairie as a new bride by 
her husband, who knows her talents 

and her restless desire to improve 
her world, Carol increasingly feel's 

The physical makeup of the town 
reveals the same clutter, conform- 
ity, and subservience to established 
values which she sees in its inhabi- 
tants : 

Main Street with its two-story brick 
shops, its story-and-a-half wooden resi- 
dences, its muddy expanse from concrete 
walk to walk, its huddle of Fords and 
lumber-wagons, was too small to absorb 
her. . . . The skeleton iron windmill on 
the farm a few blocks away at the north 
end of Main Street was like the ribs of 
a dead cow. She thought of the coming 
of the Northern winter, when the unpro- 
tected houses would crouch together in 
terror of storms galloping out of that 
wild waste. They were so small and weak, 
the little brown houses. They were 
shelters for sparrows, not homes for warm 
laughing people. . . . 

Dyer's Drug Store, a corner building 
of regular and unreal blocks of artificial 
stone. Inside the store, a greasy marble 
soda-fountain with an electric lamp of red 
and green and curdled-yellow mosaic shade. 
Pawed-over heaps of toothbrushes and 
combs and packages of shaving-soap. 
Shelves of soap-cartons, teething-rings, 
garden-seeds, and patent medicines in yel- 
low packages . . . notorious mixtures of 
opium and alcohol, in the very shop to 
which her husband sent patients for the 
filling of prescriptions. . . . 

A small wooden motion-picture theater 
called 'The Rosebud Movie Palace." 
Lithographs announcing a film called 
'Tatty in Love." 

Rowland & Gould's Grocery. In the 
display window, black, over-ripe bananas 
and lettuce on which a cat was sleeping. 
Shelves lined with red crepe paper which 
was now faded and torn and concentrical- 
ly spotted. . . . 

A score of similar shops and establish- 

Behind them and mixed with them, the 
houses, meek cottages or large, comfort- 



able, soundly uninteresting symbols of 
prosperity. . . . 

In all the town not one building save 
the Ionic bank which gave pleasure to 
Carol's eyes; not a dozen buildings which 
suggested that, in the fifty years of 
Gopher Prairie's existence, the citizens 
had realized that it was either desirable 
or possible to make this, their common 
home, amusing or attractive (from Main 
Street, pp. 33-37 passim. Copyright 1920 
by Harcourt, Brace & World, Inc.; re- 
newed 1948, by Sinclair Lewis. Reprinted 
by permission of the publishers). 

From the street and all that it 
symbolizes Carol flees, distraught at 
the thought of making her home 
and future in Gopher Prairie. Evok- 
ing no responses from her husband, 
she finds stimulating ideas and con- 
versation with Miles Bjornstam, a 
drifting jack-of-all trades, and Guy 
Pollock, the local lawyer, who more 
fully defined the force which stulti- 
fies the village: 

She asked impulsively, "You, why do 
you stay here?" 

"I have the Village Virus." 

"It sounds dangerous." 

"It is, more dangerous than cancer that 
will certainly get me at fifty unless I stop 
this smoking. The Village Virus is the 
germ which — it's extraordinarily like the 
hook-worm — it infects ambitious people 
who stay too long in the provinces. You'll 
find it epidemic among lawyers and doc- 
tors and ministers and college-bred 
merchants — all these people who have 
had a glimpse of the world that thinks 
and laughs, but have returned to their 
swamp. I'm a perfect example. . . . When 
I first came here I swore I'd 'keep up my 
interest.' Very lofty! I read Browning 
and went to Minneapolis for the the- 
aters. I thought I was 'keeping up.' But 
I guess the Village Virus had me already. 
I was reading four copies of cheap fiction- 
magazines to one poem. I'd put off the 
Minneapolis trips till I simply had to go 
there on a lot of legal matters. ... I 

decided to leave here. Stern resolution. 
Grasp the world. Then I found that the 
Village Virus had me, absolute! I didn't 
want to face new streets and younger men 
— real competition. It was too easy to 
go on making out conveyances and argu- 
ing ditch cases. So — That's all of the 
biography of a living dead man . . ." 
{Ibid., pp. 155-157). 

Chapter XI (text, page 856) de- 
tails Carol's increasing disillusion- 
ment when she joins the Thanatop- 
sis, a women's study club, and at- 
tempts to inject into their circle her 
new ideas about really studying a 
few great writings and about bring- 
ing all forces of the community to- 
gether to build beneficial projects in 
a spirit of unselfish cooperation. 
Rather than listening to Carol, each 
person speaks in tones of mutual 
distrust, self-interest, and en- 
trenched prejudice. As she raises 
her hand to vote for the measure 
she abhors (pressure of the group 
being the true mechanical domi- 
nance which forces her hypocrisy) 
she begins to realize how effectively 
she has been checkmated in her ef- 
forts to liberate and improve her 

Increasingly convinced that she 
will suffocate if she stays in Gopher 
Prairie, Carol leaves Will and runs 
away to Washington, D.C., where 
for two years she tries in vain to 
discover or create a set of values to 
replace those of Minnesota pro- 
vincialism. Neither glad nor sorry 
to be back, she is soon expecting 
her second child but still unwilling 
to submit to the village, even though 
she knows she has been beaten. One 
evening before retiring, Carol leads 
her husband to the nursery and 
points to their daughter. 



"... Do you see that object on the 
pillow? Do you know what it is? 
It's a bomb to blow up smugness. . . . 
Think what that baby will see and meddle 
with before she dies in the year 2,000! 
She may see an industrial union of the 
whole world, she may see aeroplanes go- 
ing to Mars." 

"Yump, probably be changes all right," 
yawned Kennicott. 

She sat on the edge of his bed while 
he hunted through his bureau for a col- 
lar which ought to be there and per- 
sistently wasn't. ... "I do not admit 
that Main Street is as beautiful as it 
should be! I do not admit that Gopher 
Prairie is greater or more generous than 
Europe! I do not admit that dish-wash- 
ing is enough to satisfy all women! I 
may not have fought the good fight, but 
I have kept the faith." 

"Sure. You bet you have," said Ken- 
nicott. "Well good night. Sort of feels 
to me like it might snow tomorrow. Have 
to be thinking about putting up the 
storm-windows pretty soon. Say, did you 
notice whether the girl put that screw- 
driver back?" {Ibid., pp. 450-451). 

And the subduing of Carol is 

Oi What Value, Sinclair Lewis? 

As stated by T. K. Whipple, 
''Sinclair Lewis is the most success- 
ful critic of American society be- 
cause he is himself the best proof 
that his charges are just." At his 
own true and idealistic core Sinclair 
Lewis was a typical middle-class 
American who passionately opposed 
all forms of tyranny over men's 
minds and spirits. Though his 
sympathies for oppressed minority 
groups is revealed elsewhere, his best 
novels reveal and expose the most 
widespread, most dangerous threat 
to basic freedoms: the self-tyranny 

of established prejudice and smug- 
ness, hypocritical lip service to the 
enduring economic, social, and re- 
ligious ideals, while at the same time 
worshipping bigness, quantity, and 
material ''success." Most ironically, 
Lewis himself loved these very 
proofs of boosterism and measur- 
able success which he satirized most 
brilliantly. Though Sinclair Lewis 
idealized Thoreau's economic sim- 
plicity and integrity, in his inner 
heart's immediate worldly desire, 
Lewis loved best what he satirized. 

Lewis had a sensitive ear which 
allowed him to catch the idioms of 
American speech as no writer has 
done since Mark Twain. The speech 
of his characters is loaded with 
cliches rarely found in the diction- 
ary but still alive and current: "you 
tightwad," "roughneck," "why sure, 
you bet," "I feel punk," "I work 
like the dickens," "common as 
mud," "that takes the cake," "I 
stuck to it through thick and thin." 
Sometimes sentimental, at times 
overly caustic, Lewis had a remark- 
able ability to mirror architecture, 
detail of decor and design, to lam- 
poon and reveal folkways of Ameri- 
can middle class. 

But always behind the irony of 
Lewis there is an idealism which 
conceives of a better society than 
the one his writings reveal. Out of 
this gap between what was and 
what should be came the endless 
torrent of nervous energy which, 
controlled and directed, produced 
his best works, but when applied to 
social problems not entirely ab- 
sorbed by his imagination, yielded 
inferior writings. 



Thoughts iox Discussion 

1. The life of Dr. E. J. Lewis, Harry's 
father, was dominated by a stern sense 
of duty. Do you feel this sence of duty 

was inherited by his son, or was it re- 
pudiated by him? 

2. Do you feel that Lewis' evaluation 
of middle class America during the early 
1920's is valid? 

SOCIAL SCIENCE • Divine Law and Chmch Government 

Lesson 13 — The Opportunity and Responsibility of a Calling in Church 

Elder Ariel S. Ballif 

For Fourth Meeting, April 1964 

Objective: To stress the importance of each and every calling to the successful operation 
of Church government. 

, . . when ye are in the service of your 
fellow beings ye are only in the service of 
your God (Mosiah 2:17). 

... by love serve one another. For 
all the law is fulfilled in one word, even 
in this; Thou shalt love thy neighbour as 
thyself (Gal. 5:13-14). 

If thou lovest me thou shalt serve me 
and keep all my commandments (D & C 

A wise man said, "Human so- 
cieties are happy in proportion as 
they have their treasure in that class 
of goods which are not lessened by 
being shared." 

The gospel of Jesus Christ re- 
quires from each member a personal 
investment of time, intelligence, tal- 
ent, and wealth. This investment 
is in the development of the king- 
dom of God. 

In this kingdom (society) the 
welfare of others is the major treas- 
ure and service is the medium of ex- 
change. Every member has the 
opportunity for full participation in 

service to his fellow men. There is 
no limit to one's sharing in this 
treasure; therefore, as the wise man 
suggests, there is no limit to his 
happiness. Human weaknesses, self- 
ishness, covetousness, and greed are 
the obstacles in the way of the real- 
ization of this ideal. 

A Lay Leadership 

The Church of Jesus Christ of 
Latter-day Saints depends upon a 
lay leadership. Every member in 
good standing is eligible to hold 
office. Service in this respect begins 
very early. Young people ten and 
twelve years of age are frequently 
called to positions (Sunday School 
class officers, deacon presidencies, 
secretaries, etc.). 

The Church does not have a 
trained or professional ministry. It 
does have a program of training for 
leadership that begins formally with 
the deacon age and continues 
throughout the life of the individual. 



Because of this opportunity for train- 
ing, the Church can and does rightly 
expect an improved leadership from 
each new generation. 

An important part of this leader- 
ship training is the formulation of 
an attitude of willingness to serve. 
Members in this Church need to 
develop a positive attitude toward 
acceptance of any call to serve. This 
comes from continued teaching and 
encouragement to all members from 
the time of their baptism. It is also 
greatly influenced by proper ex- 
ample set by their elders. 

Numbers Involved in Leadership 

From the six members present at 
the organization of the Church on 
April 6, 1830, there has been a con- 
tinual growth in membership. With 
this increase, which has reached an 
approximate total of two million 
members (November 1963) there 
has been a tremendous increase in 
the number of administrative units 
in the government of the Church. 
The number of stakes has reached 
387 (November 1963) and the 
wards and branches in stakes now 
number approximately 3,588, and 
there are 73 missions. 

The importance of the above 
statistics in this discussion is the in- 
crease of officers and teachers re- 
quired to operate this great organ- 
ization. An average size ward (550 
members) needs approximately 250 
officers and teachers to complete 
the organization for their regular 
activities. In addition, it requires 
approximately 120 leaders to office 
the stake organization properly. 
Both ward and stake leadership and 
the officers needed to operate the 
general Church organization con- 

stitute a tremendous army of active 
members, numbering approximately 
forty-five per cent of the total mem- 

It is the practice of the Church 
to give one assignment to a person. 
Also, it is customary to change the 
assignments from time to time. This 
gives more people opportunity for 
service with a wider experience in 
Churcli government. 

The Call to Service 

We believe that the leaders of this 
Church are called by divine author- 
ity and that they may enjoy the 
blessings of inspiration and revela- 
tion in carrying out their assign- 

Divine authority, revelation, and 
inspiration are involved in every 
assignment made in Church govern- 
ment. Each person is called by the 
Priesthood to the position he holds 
and may have hands laid upon him, 
receiving the blessings of heaven to 
assist him in carrying out his call- 

1. Selection of Leaders. Selection 
of proper leaders is a vital responsi- 
bility of the presiding officers in 
branches, wards, stakes, missions, 
and the general organization of the 
Church. Using the ward unit as an 
example, the bishop is responsible 
for the welfare of his ward members, 
spiritually and temporally. Teach- 
ing plays a major role in the pro- 
gram of the Church. The ward ex- 
perience provides the major part 
of the religious training for the 
members of the Church. The bish- 
op, therefore, must know his people 
well enough so that he can select as 
leaders and teachers those who can 
give strength and understanding of 



the knowledge of the gospel to The Member's Part in 
other members. The personal life Accepting a Calling 
of the teacher or leader can have It should be clear that any call- 
more influence on the testimony ing in this Church is a real oppor- 
of the members than the vocal ex- tunity. First, it is an opportunity 
pression of the lesson in class or in for service. It is doing something 
meeting. for others with an unselfish motive, 
2. The Personal Interview. Each voluntarily putting forth an effort 
person suggested for office in the for the betterment, relief, or general 
ward should be approached, in welfare of someone else. (2) It is 
regard to the calling, by the bishop- an opportunity for self-improvement, 
ric. Officers of organizations may One cannot do anything for others 
suggest names of desired persons, without receiving a greater benefit 
but the first contact should be made for himself. This may express itself 
by the bishopric only. After the in mental and spiritual growth as 
interview with the bishopric, at well as developing in him greater 
which time they satisfy themselves human understanding. ( 3 ) It is an 
that this person is right with the opportunity for closer association 
Lord, properly prepared for leader- and better communication with 
ship, and the assignment being con- God. One cannot sincerely and 
sidered is the proper one for this conscientiously accept a part in the 
person, then and not until then, Lord's great program without feel- 
the bishopric should refer the per- ing his influence in every righteous 
son to the officer in charge and the effort one puts forth in advancing 
member of the bishopric assigned his work. 

to that organization. The officer in In accepting a call, one must rea- 

charge should then interview the li^g that, for him, this call is the 

new appointee and explain in detail ^^^^ important assignment in the 

the responsibilities and obligations Church. To the extent that one 

of the calling. Every help should . . • i. ^ «'. ^.o;«^ 
, . ,1 ^ a:- ^ T_ excels in carryins; out one s assign- 
be 2iven the new oiricer or teacher , . i r ^ t j i 
to assist him in successfully meet- "lent, the work of the Lord excels, 
ing this new opportunity for service. I* is the unified effort of all officers 
Many people who serve success- and teachers that makes the Church 
fully in the Church are not highly program succeed, 
trained for their assignments; but any Responsibility of Church Mem- 
member who is willing to work and bers. The responsibility is not only 
put forth a sincere effort to know on the officers and teachers for the 
what the assignment requires, and advancement of the work of the 
who is humble enough to recognize Lord. To be a good follower is an 
that he is being called to the Lord's essential qualification for group 
work, asking in faith for divine help, membership. There are so many 
can fill well any assignment he may assignments in a ward, involving so 
be called to in this Church. many different people, that each 



person, no matter what his special Covenants we read, ''No person is to 

calKng or area of service may be, be ordained to any office in this 

must also be an active participant church, where there is a regularly 

as a ward member. In fact, one organized branch of the same, with- 

quality of good leadership is being out the vote of that church" (verse 

able to identify oneself effectively 65). 

with the group in a variety of ways. The vote of a member should be 
It is important that all ward mem- carefully thought through before it 
bers accept the opportunities for is expressed. This is not a demo- 
training provided by the organiza- cratic process in the common mean- 
tions of the Church. By their par- ing of the term. We believe the 
ticipation in the program, growth leadership is divinely called and op- 
and development, both spiritually crates under the inspiration of the 
and mentally, are assured. At the Lord. Therefore, when the appro- 
same time, the activity of the mem- priate officer proposes and presents 
bership provides the sustaining and people to be sustained, the member- 
stimulating influence that officers ship have the privilege of raising 
and teachers need to help them their hands for or against the recom- 
make their efforts vital. mendation. Usually the presiding 
Importance oi the Sustaining Vote officer will explain that the major- 
The members of a ward find it ity rules, but he would give con- 
quite simple to raise their hands sideration to the objections of 
when the names of people are read the dissenting individual, after the 
to fill the various offices in the meeting. By a member's raising his 
Church. Sometimes the presiding hand to sustain, he approves the 
officer, so familiar with this pro- selection, the assignment and he 
cedure, does this assignment in such fully agrees to support the leader 
a routine way that the members, in carrying out the duties of his 
without thinking, raise their hands office. The responsibility of the sus- 
to sustain. This is not a healthy taining member is met by his activity 
situation to have in any ward. How- in helping to make the officer or 
ever, more frequently, the lack of teacher successful. Proper action is 
thought in the process of sustaining more important than words or signs, 
leaders is on the part of the mem- "Verily I say, men should be anx- 
bers. Their indifference is clearly iously engaged in a good cause, and 
expressed in their failure to support do many things of their own free 
the sustained leader with their par- will, and bring to pass much right- 
ticipation in the activity involved in eousness" (D & C 58:27). Active 
the discharge of his duty. support in the Church requires do- 
Sustained by Action. When a ing many things without having to 
member of a ward raises his hand be commanded. This admonition 
to sustain a person in office, he is applies to both officers and mem- 
exercising one of the most important bers. A case in point could be the 
duties and privileges given to the accomplishment of the home teach- 
membership of the Church. In the ing program. There is much room 
20th Section of the Doctrine and to do good over and above the re- 








O LORD, I GO-Madsen 20 



— Madsen 25 

IN THY FORM-Madsen 20 


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quirements in the discharge of this 
assignment, yet at times pressure 
must be exerted to get the visits 
made before the month ends. There 
are examples in other organizations 
ilhistrating the need of one's sustain- 
ing action as well as the uplifted 

Limitations in Chuich Callings 

At the time a person is called to 
serve in any office in this Church, 
careful instructions should be given 
as to his duties and responsibilities. 
A true quality of leadership is to 
recognize the extent of the responsi- 
bility of the office. The individual 
also should seek diligently to know 
his duty in the office to which he 
has been called. (D & C 107:99- 

There is a close and interlocking 
relationship with every activity and 
function in the organization of the 
Church. It all comes under the di- 
rection of the Priesthood and in- 
sures the orderly operation of the 
kingdom. When duties are clearly 
defined and the directions followed, 
effective operation of the pro- 
gram is .assured. This still leaves 
room for the expression of the per- 
sonality and the initiative of the 
leader in executing his assignment. 
The secret of success in all Church 
work is being in tune with the Spirit 
of God and keeping in mind always 
the purpose and objective of the 
plan of life and salvation — which 
is to bring to pass the immortality 
and the eternal life of man. 

1. Many Called But Few Are 
Chosen. In the 121st Section of 
the Doctrine and Covenants, we are 
reminded that to be chosen, one 
must be in tune with the Lord. The 



things of this world can and do be- 
come so important that they inter- 
fere with the discharge of our as- 
signments in the Church. The 
rights of the Priesthood are insep- 
arably connected with the powers 
of heaven and can only be con- 
trolled upon the principles of right- 

One cannot serve the Lord satis- 
factorily in any office or calling in 
this Church unless the principles of 
righteousness and the purpose of the 
Church hold first place in one's 
thinking and acting. There is no 
place for substitutes, or halfway 
marks in this particular. The inabil- 
ity to achieve this dedication is why 
''many are called but few are 
chosen." They may not be chosen 
because of their failure to use the 
opportunity and knowledge with 
which they have been blessed to 
pursue the work of the Lord. (See 
D&C 95:5-6.) 

2. Love, the Guiding and Ruling 
Principle of Authority of the 
Church. Once again we return to 
the oft referred to and divine 
characteristic of love of fellow men. 
In the following quotation, the im- 
portance and power of love as the 
dominant motivation in the Priest- 
hood is forcefully presented. 

No power or influence can or ought to 
be maintained by virtue of the priesthood, 
only by persuasion, by long-suffering, by 
gentleness and meekness, and by love un- 

By kindness, and pure knowledge, which 
shall greatly enlarge the soul without hy- 
pocrisy, and without guile — 

Reproving betimes with sharpness, when 
moved upon by the Holy Ghost; and then 
showing forth afterwards an increase of 
love toward him whom thou hast re- 




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"There is no substitute for experience" 

proved, lest he esteem thee to be his 

That he may know that thy faithfulness 
is stronger than the cords of death. 

Let thy bowels also be full of charity to- 
wards all men, and to the household of 
faith, and let virtue garnish thy thoughts 
unceasingly; then shall thy confidence wax 
strong in the presence of God; and the 
doctrine of the priesthood shall distil upon 
thy soul as the dews from heaven. 

The Holy Ghost shall be thy constant 
companion, and thy scepter an unchang- 
ing scepter of righteousness and truth; and 
thy dominion shall be an everlasting do- 
minion, and without compulsory means 
it shall flow unto thee forever and ever 
(D & C 121:41-46). 

To execute one's calling properly 
in this Church, a person should 
study and follow the counsel of Sec- 
tion 121 of the Doctrine and Cove- 



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The opportunities and responsi- 
bilities involved in a calling in 
Church government are about equal 
in their bearing upon the person 
involved. The opportunities result 
in growth and development of the 
individual. The responsibilities re- 
quire service to others; assisting 
them in their pursuit of happiness, 
understanding, and perfection. This 
unselfish dedication to service in- 
creases the efficiency and effective- 
ness of the person and builds con- 
fidence and competency in his lead- 
ership. The compensation is great 
in net returns to the individual ac- 
cepting a calling. The true value of 
service is derived from the consecra- 
tion of time and talent to the work 
of the Lord which, in simple terms, 
is the uplifting of mankind. 


Doctrine and Covenants 58:121. 

WiDTSOE, John A.: Piiesthood and 
Church Government, Chapters 16; 18. 

Talmage, James E.: Articles of Faith, 
Chapters 10; 24. 

Smith, Henry A., "Dynamic Leadership 
of the First Presidency Accelerates Pace of 
Church- Wide Activity," Church News, 
December 29, 1962, page 6. 

Thoughts ioi Discussion 

1. In vi^hat way does the law of conse- 
cration apply in this lesson? 

2. What human characteristics interfere 
most with service in behalf of and con- 
sideration for the welfare of mankind? 

3. What is the importance of a lay 
leadership in the plan of salvation? 

4. What are the opportunities that 
arise out of service in the Church pro- 

5. What is the proper procedure for 
notifying a person of his selection for an 
office in the Church? 

6. What is the problem involved in 
this quotation "Many are called, but few 
are chosen"? 


First Heartaches 

Gladys Hesser Burnham 

When you were small and bumps and scratches came 

I kissed them better and they mended well; 

Now you are older and heartaches loom 

My kisses aren't enough to break the spell. 

I can only wait with anguished sigh 

And hope your confidence is mine to keep. 

If I can just be there to smooth your hair 

My soft caress may be what makes you weep. 

The unchecked well of your emotion breaks 

And floods the valley of your first heartaches. 


Dorothy J. Roberts 

The slim grace of her childhood 

Now I shall only know 

In memory where I carry 

Her face like a cameo. 

The brief and tender mystery 

Of childhood now is lost, 

Save in a pattern of the mind 

Where her dainty footsteps crossed. 

Her tiny form eludes me — 

Only a dream I save. 

She would not pause for capture, 

Elusive as a wave. 

But just as she left the portal 

Where the doors of childhood close, 

I caught her on paper, forever, 

A girl — beautiful as a rose. 

Precious Moment 

Verda P. Bollschweiler 

The birthday girl, with wonder in her eyes. 
Opened a storybook when she awoke, 
Then in bewilderment and shocked surprise. 
With heartbreak in her voice, my darling spoke 

The words I'll treasure long as I'm alive: 

"I thought that I could read when I was five." 



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Mrs. Charlotte Thomas Kay 
Ogden, Utah 

Mrs. Louisa Haag Abegg Done 
Tucson, Arizona 


Mrs. Mary Lambert Hussey 
Ogden, Utah 

Mrs. Nancy Elizabeth C. Walker 
Augusta, Georgia 

Mrs. Mirinda Snow Frandsen 
Provo, Utah 

Ninety- two 

Mrs. Amelia Heppler Hansen 
Richfield, Utah 

Mrs. Frances Lathrop Lebo 
Bakersfield, California 

Mrs. Nancy B. Walker 
Augusta, Georgia 

Mrs. Olive Louise Harris Vincent 
Salt Lake City, Utah 

Mrs. Loretta Tucker Johnson 
Berkeley, California 

Mrs. Abbie Jane Moyer Willden 
Price, Utah 


Mrs. Rosatha Douglas Revor 
Ogden, Utah 

Mrs. Elizabeth Burt Shipley 
Salt Lake City, Utah 


Mrs. Mary Lee Wilson Myers 
American Fork, Utah 

Mrs. Della Bunker Lisonbee 
Delta, Utah 

Mrs. Sarah P. Stevenson 
Salt Lake City, Utah 

Mrs. Jessie Bowers Smith Inman 
Phoenix, Arizona 



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ICT 64 

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Volume iV 

by President Joseph Fielding Smith 

A new volume in President Smith's "'Answers to 
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(Sections 1-41) 

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Here is a brilliant text that offers commentary on the 
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Volume 51 
Number 2 
February 1964 
Lessons for May 






c-*: ^;' 

Alice Morrey Bailey 

I should hold you as my enemy, 
Remembering the smell of dust in rain, 
The hiss of drops in thirsty soil, the drain 
Of watersheds in rivers to the sea, 
For I have fought as hill men always fight 
To keep the water on the land, the drouth 
With puny dams across the canyon's mouth, 
And tending furrows through the weary night. 
But I am lost in shoreless vastness, drowned 
In swirling blue, your ancient mystery 
Appeals in tongues to all not known in me, 
And I am mesmerized with rhythmic sound. 
Betrayed by fluid veins to seek your shores, 
I am no longer alien, I am yours. 

The Cover: 


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Lithographed in full color by Deseret News Press 

Monterey Coast, California 
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Dick Scopes 

Mary Scopes 

As a proselyting missionary, I have 
had the opportunity of assisting to 
organize, and to work with ReHef 
Societies in different towns in Eng- 
land and Wales. I wrote to my mother 
about this. She is president of Relief 
Society in my home ward. She sent 
me a year's subscription to the Maga- 
zine. This offered me adventure, 
spirituality, and education. Within the 
pages of the wonderful Magazine I 
found all this and more. The Maga- 
zine is a wonderful missionary tool, 
as well. 

—Elder Dale S. Call 

British Mission 

I thank my Heavenly Father for the 
warmth, sincerity, and variety of the 
Magazine. How true and wise are the 
editorials and the articles on points of 
doctrine. The lessons are beautifully 
written. The literature is superb — 
the best available. 

— Mrs. Nedra Zitelsberger 

Redondo Beach, California 

I feel that I must take a moment 
in spite of my undone work, and thank 
you for the "Message to Young 
Mothers," by Mary M. Ellsworth, in 
the October Magazine. For sometime, 
although I have hated to admit it to 
myself or to anyone else, I have felt 
so bogged down with my housewifely 
tasks that I haven't known what to do. 
The article must have been written 
with me in mind! My biggest problem 
has been that I have so many failings, 
I get discouraged before I even start 
trying to change. Now I have a practi- 
cal list of things I can do. I feel there 
may be hope for me after all. 

— Mrs. Mildred Martindale 

Rancho Cordova, California 

I have just read Sister Ellsworth's 
"A Message to Young Mothers" in the 
October issue of The Relief Society 
Magazine, and I simply must pause to 
let you know that I think it is truly 
wonderful. Our Magazine representa- 
tive said, in recommending the article 
to us, "I wish I had read it twenty 
years sooner, when I was rearing my 
children." Most of my own children 
are still being reared, and they should 
benefit much from my reading of this 

— Mrs. Catherine M. Jaggi 
Brigham City, Utah 

I love and appreciate the Magazine, 
and enjoy reading the stories and 
poems. I have been trying out some 
of the recipes, and they taste real 
good. I especially like the cover pic- 
tures of the Magazine and the frontis- 
pieces. I am impressed with each 
teacher's message. The Magazine is 
giving me a rich and wonderful edu- 

— Dolly Sahadeo 

Corentyne, Berbice 
British Guiana 

I am so thrilled with all the wonder- 
ful articles in The Relief Society Mag- 
azine. As I am a young mother, the 
Magazine helps me in my home and in 
rearing our children. 
— Jo Ann Slade 

Cedar City, Utah 

The Relief Society Magazine helps 
to strengthen my testimony of the gos- 
pel of Jesus Christ as taught in his 
Church. The Magazine is filled with 
inspiring thoughts from wonderful 
leaders. The stories contain beautiful 
examples of right living. 

— Magree G. Schaerr 

Kanab, Utah 



Relief Society /lagazme 


Editor Marianne C. Sharp 
Associate Editor Vesta P. Crawford 
General Manager Belle S. Spafford 

84 The Influence and Responsibility of Women Harold B. Lee 

90 In Memoriam — President Levi Edgar Young 

91 Lenore C. Gundersen Appointed to the General Board Fawn H. Sharp 

111 Heart Fund Dollars Buy Life and Hope 

112 National Children's Dental Health Week 


92 Mama Lives in the Kitchen — Second Prize Story Lael J. Littke 
100 Your Heart to Understanding — Chapter 1 Hazel M. Thomson 
122 Kiss of the Wind — Chapter 8 (Conclusion) Rosa Lee Lloyd 

General Features 

82 From Near and Far 

107 Woman's Sphere Ramona W. Cannon 

108 Editorial: The Words That Women Write Vesta P. Crawford 

110 Notes to the Field: Index for 1963 Relief Society Magazine Available 

Award Subscriptions Presented in April 
129 Notes From the Field: Relief Society Activities Hulda Parker 
160 Birthday Congratulations 

114 A Valentine for My Husband Helen Hinckley Jones 

116 Easy Valentine Cake Janet W. Breeze 

117 Stretching the Food Budget — Part V — Wonders With Wheat Using 

Bulgur or Cracked Wheat Marion Bennion 
121 Letty S. Mickelson Makes Appliqued Quilts for Relief Society Bazaars 

Lessons for May 

136 Theology — The Book of Revelation Roy W. Doxey 

142 Visiting Teacher Message — "And Ye Shall Bear Record of Me" 

Christine H. Robinson 
144 Work Meeting — Plarming Family Recreation Virginia F. Cutler 
146 Literature — Carl Sandburg, American Folk Singer Briant S. Jacobs 
152 Social Science — Summary of Organization and Structure of the Church 

Ariel S. Ballif 

81 Sonnet to the Sea — Frontispiece Alice Morrey Bailey 
White Miracle, by Linnie F. Robinson, 89; Memories on a Winter Night, by Ida Elaine 
James, 99; Book Interest, by Pearle M. Olsen, 106; Womanhood, by Mary Brown, 111; 
Did the Groundhog See His Shadow? by Evalyn M. Sandberg, 112; Remembering, by 
Enola Chamberlin, 113; Frozen Splendor, by Gladys Hesser Burnham, 141. 

Published monthly by THE GENERAL BOARD OF RELIEF SOCIETY of The Church of Jesus Christ of Lotter-doy Saints © 1964 by 
the Relief Societ/ General Board Association. Editorial and Business Office: 76 North Main, Salt Lake City, Utah 84111; Phone EMpire 
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enclosed. Rejected manuscripts will be retained for six months only. .The Magazine is not responsible for unsolicited manuscripts. 

The Influence and Responsibility off V\^omen 

Elder Harold B. Lee 

of the Council of the Twelve 

[Address Delivered at the General Session of the Relief Society Annual 
General Conference, October 2, 1963.] 

From the spirit of the opening' 
prayer, I found myself with 
something that seems to be in 
harmony with my thinking, with 
reference to the tremendous scope 
of responsibility and influence 
that womanhood or women in the 
Church might render, first to 
themselves as individuals, then to 
their husbands, as supports to 
their children, and as teachers 
and exemplars to the Church. 

It was with this thought in 
mind that our beloved late Presi- 
dent J. Reuben Clark, Jr. said: 

Youth of the Church are hungry 
for the words of the Lord. Teachers, 
be sure you are prepared to feed them 
the bread of life which is the teach- 
ings of Jesus Christ. If they live up 
to the teachings they will have more 
happiness than they have ever 
dreamed of. Sometimes we get a 
notion that we have to entertain 
people to get them to come to Church. 
Youth, as well as older people, we 
know, are hungry for the words of the 

It is wonderful that we come 
to realize that within the revealed 
gospel of Jesus Christ and from 
the teachings of our Church lead- 
ers in this dispensation, may be 
found the answer to every ques- 
tion and a solution to every 
problem essential to the social, 
the temporal, and the spiritual 
welfare of human beings, all of 

whom, of course, are the children 
of our Heavenly Father. 

I read somewhere a statement 
from the president of the Stand- 
ard Oil Company of Indiana that 
gave me some thought. He said: 
"The fulness of life is not to be 
determined by its length but by 
its breadth times its depth." And, 
as I read further, what he meant 
were three things that determine 
the fulness of life: First, good 
health is essential; second, broad 
scholastic training. When I read 
that I remembered what the late 
humorist Will Rogers said: "The 
most educated person in the 
world is an ignorant man when 
you get him off the subject in 
which he is educated." And, 
third, the depth — deep spiritu- 
ality. Hence, the fulness of life 
is determined by good health, 
broad scholastic training, and 
deep spirituality. 

Wouldn't it be wonderful for 
a mother to hear her teenage son 
say, when mother sits down to 
read a book on the art of home- 
making, "Mother, what are you 
reading?" And she answers, "I 
am reading about the art of home- 
making." And to have the son 
say, "I couldn't think of anyone 
who needs it less." Wouldn't you 
like to have your son say that to 
you? Or, to have your family say 
on some Christmas Eve when 



you had home night, as they 
come to kiss you goodnight, 
''Mother, why couldn't we have 
Christmas Eve every week?" Or, 
when mother and father at 
extreme expense have done some- 
thing extra special in re-decorat- 
ing or refurnishing the house, 
extending themselves to the limit, 
to have the family say, "You 
know, our home could now be the 
showplace of the whole communi- 
ty." Such is the touch of mother- 
hood in homemaking that can be 
so vital in a child's life. 

I read the other day again the 
words of the sainted mother of 
the Prophet Joseph the night 
that he went to get the plates. 
I read her writing: 

On the night of September 21 I sat 
up very late. ... I did not retire until 
after twelve o'clock at night. About 
twelve o'clock Joseph came to me and 
asked if I had a chest with a lock and 
key. I knew in an instant what he 
wanted it for, and not having one, I 
was greatly alarmed, as I thought it 
might be a matter of considerable 
moment. But Joseph, discovering my 
anxiety, said, "Never mind. Mother. 
I can do very well for the present 
without it — be calm — all is right." 

Shortly after this Joseph's wife 
passed through the room with her 
bonnet and riding dress, and in a few 
minutes they left together, taking Mr. 
Knight's horse and wagon. / spent the 
night in prayer and supplication to 
God, for the anxiety of my mind 
would not permit me to sleep. At the 
usual hour I commenced preparing 
breakfast. My heart flooded at every 
footstep, as I now expected Emma 
and Joseph momentarily and feared 
lest Joseph might meet with another 
disappointment (History of Joseph 
Smith, by his mother, Lucy Mack 
Smith, page 102) . 

I say to you mothers, if you 
ever have sons and daughters 
who amount to what they should 
in the world, it will be in no small 
degree due to the fact that your 
children have a mother who 
spends many nights on her knees 
in prayer, praying God that her 
son, her daughter, will not fail. 
I remember at the foolish years 
of my teenage life, my mother 
came to me with an intuitive im- 
pression and warning which I 
brushed off as foolish teenagers 
do. "Oh, mother, that's silly," I 
said, then within only a month, 
to stand face to face with the 
temptation about which mother 
had warned. I never had the 
courage to go back and tell her 
how right she was, but I was on 
guard because someone warned 
— my mother. 

Some years ago there was 
printed in the Era an interesting 
article under the title, "Seven 
Minutes in Eternity." This in- 
dicated some kind of forces that 
work beyond our sight. Some- 
times we think the whole job is 
up to us, forgetful that there are 
loved ones beyond our sight who 
are thinking about us and our 
children. We forget that we have 
a Heavenly Father and a Heaven- 
ly Mother who are even more 
concerned, probably, than our 
earthly father and mother, and 
that influences from beyond are 
constantly working to try to help 
us when we do all we can. I will 
read just a few paragraphs this 
man writes under this heading, 
"Seven Minutes in Eternity": 

. . . One day in my office I took a 



package of cigarettes fom my desk. 
About to apply a light to one of them, 
/ heard a voice say as gently as any 
worried mother might caution a care- 
less son, "Oh, Bill, give up your ciga- 
rettes!" And even before it had oc- 
curred to me that no one was present 
in the flesh to address me thus audib- 
ly, I answered: "All right!" and tossed 
the package into the near-by waste- 
basket. I went all that day without 
smoking. Next morning, again, I 
reached for my tobacco tin across my 
desk to load up my corncob pipe. It 
was knocked from my hands with a 
slap that tossed it upward in the air 
and deposited it bottom upward at my 
feet with the tobacco spilling out. No 
cautioning this time. But I knew! 

I haven't smoked tobacco in any 
form from that day to the present — 
this after twenty years of smoking a 
dozen cigars a day, lighting one from 
the butt of another. Moreover, I 
haven't had the slightest ill effect nor 
did I go through the agonizing torture 
of "breaking off." I just didn't smoke 
anymore — didn't have the nervous 
urge — didn't even give tobacco a 

The same strange prohibition seemed 
to shut down on coffee, tea, alcohol, 
and meats. I endured not the slightest 
distress in giving these items up. They 
simply ceased to exist for me. [Mind 
you, this is not a member of the 
Church writing.] And, inversely, a 
strange new sensation began to mani- 
fest itself in my muscles and organs. 

I had the glorious feeling of physi- 
cal detachment from the handicaps of 
bodily matter. No .form of bodily ex- 
ercise seemed to take energy that I 
had consciously to supply. I had al- 
ways been slightly stoop-shouldered. 
Without any unusual exercise, my 
spine straightened of itself, so to speak. 

Along with this physical phenomena 
went the unexplainable faculty of 
withstanding fatigue. If I wearied 
myself by prolonged physical labor, it 
was the healthy weariness of boyhood 
that overtook me, and a sound night's 
sleep wrought complete readjustment. 
On the other hand, I found that I 
could sit at my typewriter twelve 

hours at a stretch, if necessary, with 
hardly a muscle protesting. I had 
suffered consistently from insomnia 
ever since a period in my twenties 
when I worked as police reporter on 
a morning newspaper. Now I went to 
bed and to sleep. 

With this physical alteration came 
a different feeling toward those around 
me. This perhaps was the most 
astoimiding aftermath of the whole ad- 
venture. Certainly it appeared to have 
convinced my friends that some ex- 
traordinary thing had occurred, since 
it dramatized my rejuvenation, so to 
speak, and gave them something to 
perceive with their senses. . . . 

At any rate, whether I am right or 
wrong, I know that for a limited time 
one night last year out in California 
my spiritual entity left my body and 
went somewhere — a concrete place 
where I could talk, walk about, feel, 
and see; where answers were returned 
to questions addressed to physically 
dead people, which have checked up 
in the waking world and clarified for 
me the riddle of earthly existence. 

I know there is no death, because, 
in a manner of speaking, I went 
through the process of dying, came 
back to my body and took up the 
burden of earthly living again. I know 
that the experience has metamor- 
phosed the cantankerous Vermont 
Yankee that was once Bill Pelley, and 
launched him into a wholly different 
universe that seems filled with naught 
but love, harmony, health, good hu- 
mor, and prosperity. , . (Excerpts 
from "Seven Minutes In Eternity," by 
William Dudley Pelley, Improvement 
Era, June 1929, pp. 621-628; July 1929, 
pp. 713-721). 

Unseen forces at work can un- 
dermine, as well as strengthen 
our characters, and, at the same 
time, there are unseen forces that 
strengthen or threaten to destroy 
our homes. I read from a state- 
ment by President Joseph F. 
Smith, in order to impress these 



I believe that every individual in the 
Church has just as much right to en- 
joy the spirit of revelation and the 
understanding from God which that 
spirit of revelation gives him for his 
own good, as the bishop has to enable 
him to preside over the ward. Every 
man has the privilege to exercise these 
gifts and these privileges in the con- 
duct of his own affairs, bringing up 
his children in the way they should go, 
and in the management of his farm, 
his flocks, his herds, and in the man- 
agement of his business, if he has 
business of other kinds to do; it is his 
right to enjoy the spirit of revelation 
and of inspiration to do the right 
thing, to be wise and prudent, just 
and good in everything that he does. 
I know that this is a true principle, 
and I know that I know it, too; and 
that is the thing I would like Latter- 
day Saints to know . . . (President 
Joseph F. Smith, Gospel Doctrine, pp. 

It has sometimes been sorrowful to 
see respected members of the Church, 
men and women who should know bet- 
ter, to allow themselves to become the 
tools of seductive spirits. Such men, 
seem, for the time at least, to lose 
sight of the fact that the Lord has 
estabUshed on earth, the Priesthood 
in its fullness; and that by direct rev- 
elation and commandment from heav- 
en; that he has instituted an order or 
government that is beyond the capac- 
ity, and that is superior to the wisdom 
and understanding and learning of 
man, so far, indeed, that it seems im- 
possible for the human mind, unaided 
by the Spirit of God to comprehend 
the beauties, powers, and character 
of the Holy Priesthood. . . (Ibid., pp. 

It is not the business of any indi- 
vidual to rise up as a revelator, as a 
prophet, as a seer, as an inspired man, 
to give revelation for the guidance of 
the Church, or to assume to dictate, 
to the presiding authorities of the 
Church in £my part of the world, 
much less, in the midst of Zion where 
the organizations of the Priesthood 

are about perfect, where everything 
is complete, even to the organization 
of a branch. . . . The moment an 
individual rises up, assuming the right 
to control £uid to dictate, or to sit in 
judgment on his brethren, especially 
upon those who preside, he should be 
promptly checked, or discord, division 
and confusion will be the result. Every 
man and woman in this Church should 
know better than to yield to such a 
spirit; and the moment that such a 
feeling presents itself to them they 
should rebuke it as it is in direct an- 
tagonism to the order of the Priest- 
hood and to the spirit and genius of 
this work. We can accept nothing as 
authority but that which comes direct- 
ly through the appointed channel, the 
constituted organizations of the Priest- 
hood which is the channel that God 
has appointed through which to make 
known his mind and will to the world 
(Ibid., pp. 41-42). 

I wish we could understand 
that principle, for among us are 
those who are spreading false doc- 
trine, setting themselves up as 
authority and to receive revela- 
tions. Presumably, when you 
leave this conference or your 
stake conference, you will find 
plastered on your windshield lit- 
erature from these apostate 
groups intended to confuse. You 
sisters must be on guard lest you, 
in an unguarded moment, fall 
prey to those sophistries. 

Parents, of course, have a tre- 
mendous responsibility. All that 
the Church may do can be con- 
sidered only as secondary to the 
great responsibility of parent- 
hood. Someone has said: "Par- 
ents wonder why the streams are 
bitter, when they, themselves, 
have poisoned the fountain." 
When I say that, I am thinking 
of modesty, of honesty. Dr. Sarn- 
off said: "The happiest people I 



have known have not been the 
people of great worldly wealth, 
achievements, o r accomplish- 
ments. They have been the sim- 
ple people who are happily mar- 
ried, enjoying good health, and 
enjoying good family life.'* 

I remember some while ago rid- 
ing on a subway in lower Man- 
hattan. There was a poster that 
showed a beautiful little girl, 
maybe six or seven, looking up 
into the face of a young father. 
They were both of them just 
laughing their hearts out. She ap- 
parently had told him something, 
and he was enjoying it, and it 
wasn't advertising anything. And 
as I looked at that happy picture, 
my eyes wandered down below 
where it asked: "Are you too old 
to laugh at kid stuff?" Well, the 
answer was obvious. If you are, 
then don't try to teach children. 
And then the poster declared: 
"Where family Hfe ends, child de- 
linquency begins." It has been 
well said that the richest soil, if 
uncultivated, produces the rank- 
est weeds. 

Elder Adam S. Bennion told us 
about a survey that he made over 
years of experience with honor 
students at various graduation 
exercises, the valedictorians. And, 
to his amazement, he found that 
in the great majority of cases, 
those who had been thus honored, 
were the sons and daughters of 
widowed mothers, in large part. 
That achievement in no smaD 
part is due to the great influence 
of wonderful mothers. 

I came across a statistical 
study that was made of happy 
marriages and divorces, where it 

was found that the following fac- 
tors have a very high statistical 
correlation with successful mar- 
riages. Note these: first, age 
twenty or more for both partners 
at the time of marriage; second, 
first date alone for both partners 
occurred in the late teens; third, 
courtship for at least nine 
months; fourth, no pre-marital 
petting or sexual relations; fifth, 
religious and sex instructions 
from parents and teachers; sixth, 
church membership and attend- 
ance at least three times a month. 

Now this was made by some- 
one other than members of the 
Church. Factors that had high 
statistical correlation with di- 
vorce were: first, teenage mar- 
riages; second, early dating alone, 
often as early as thirteen years; 
third, little or no religious in- 
struction in the home or poor 
church attendance; fourth, most 
sex instruction from friends; fifth, 
heavy petting and sexual rela- 
tions before marriage, often with 
persons other than the one whom 
they later married (a pretty 
shaky foundation on which to 
found a home). 

I heard a lovely mother, she 
may be here, who quoted this 
beautiful verse: 

Father, between Thy strong hands, 

Thou hast bent 
The clay but roughly into shape, and 

To me the task of smoothing where 

I may 
And fashioning to a gentler form Thy 

clay — 
To see some hidden beauty Thou 

hadst planned. 
Slowly revealed beneath my laboring 




Sometime to help a twisted thing to 

More straight; this is full recompense, 

and so 
I give Thee but the praise that Thou 

wouldst ask — 
Firm hand and high heart for the fur- 
ther task. 

— Dorothy Littlewort 
(Quoted from Teaching As the Direc- 
tion of Activities, by John T. Wahl- 
quist, page 11.) 

In a letter written from Liberty 
Jail, the Prophet Joseph Smith 
wrote to the saints: 

You know, brethren, that a very 
large ship is benefited very much by 
a very small helm in time of a storm 
by being kept workwise with the wind 
and the waves. Therefore, dearly be- 

loved brethren, let us cheerfully do all 
things that lie in our power and then 
may we stand still with the utmost 
assurance to see the salvation of God, 
for his arm shall be revealed. 

This I pray we may all do, ex- 
erting all that lies within our 
powers to raise the standard and 
to maintain the high richness of 
life which the Church and gospel 
teachings will offer to our chil- 
dren and our people, and then 
with full assurance that God and 
agencies beyond our sight will 
stand by us to aid and to aug- 
ment our humble efforts. That 
this may be so, I pray humbly in 
the name of the Lord, Jesus 
Christ. Amen. 

Whit<^ Miracle 

Linnie F. Robinson 

These are the days one never thinks will come, 
These days beyond the harvest, days of death; 
As winter spreads its frost upon the ground 
It makes a crystal beauty of its breath, 
And sends a silence, louder than the hour, 
Into the soul, speaking of time and change. 
It lays a hand upon the lips of man 
And stills the song upon the summer range. 
Yet, in the filigree of white on bough. 
Turning these slender trees to fragile lace, 
I long to hold back time before my face. 
Oh, let no sudden blast break here 
With black-browed fury to change this world 
And carry off this frosted miracle. 



Lem Edgar Young 

of the First Council of Seventy 
February 2, 1874 — December 13, 1963 

President Levi Edgar Young, 
senior President of the First 
Council of Seventy, died Decem- 
ber 13, 1963. Well loved and much 
respected, President Young had 
been a member of the Council 
since 1910, carrying forward a 
legacy of service received from his 
faithful forebears. Both his father, 
Seymour B. Young, a noted phy- 
sician, and h i s grandfather, 
Joseph Young, a brother of Presi- 
dent Brigham Young, lived to be 
senior presidents of the First 
Council of Seventy. 

Throughout his life President 
Young was devoted to scholar- 
ship and education. He was grad- 
uated from the University of 
Utah in 1895, and immediately 
began a teaching career that con- 
tinued, alternately with mission 
calls, for most of his life. He 
served as professor of English at 
the Latter-day Saints University 
in Salt Lake City, and later, while 
attending Harvard University, he 
became deeply interested in his- 
tory and was a noted scholar and 
authority, particularly in the field 
of western history. He taught 
history at the University of Utah 
for forty years. He was president 
of the Utah State Historical So- 
ciety for many years, and in rec- 
ognition of his contributions to 
research, and writing and teach- 
ing of history, he was given the 

signal honor of membership in 
the Royal Society of Edinburgh, 
a distinction usually reserved for 
natural scientists. 

He labored as a missionary in 
Germany, and in 1902 was named 
President of the Swiss Mission, 
becoming one of the youngest 
mission presidents to serve 
in the Church. From 1922 to 
1934 he was President of the 
Temple Square Mission and for 
three years he presided over the 
New England Mission. 

The General Board and mem- 
bers of Relief Society in all the 
stakes and missions of the Church 
extend sympathy and sisterly 
love to President Young's family 
— his wife Valeria Brinton 
Young, and his three daughters: 
Harriet Y. Khne, Jane Y. Raw- 
son, and Eleanor Y. Van Orden, 
and to the grandchildren and 
other relatives and friends. Presi- 
dent Young has left a resplendent 
heritage of faith and good works 
to his family and to the Church. 


Lenore C. Gundersen 


to General Board 

Fawn H. Sharp 

Member, General Board 
of Relief Society 

Lenore C. Gundersen was ap- 
pointed a member of the General 
Board of Relief Society, Decem- 
ber 5, 1963. She exempHfies, in 
her everyday Hving, the sterhng 
quahties of her pioneer ancestors 
— thrift, love, patience, depend- 
ability, courage, and a dedication 
to family and Church. 

Sister Gundersen is the eighth 
child of Virginia Burton Cutler 
and Ralph Cutler. Lenore's father 
and mother were active Church 
members, maintaining a home in 
which the Priesthood was always 
honored. Lenore states that her 
mother, now eighty-five years of 
age, has always been an inspira- 
tion to her. 

Lenore attended business col- 
lege and served as secretary to 
Sister Clarissa A. Beesley of the 
Y.W.M.LA. for three and one- 
half years. She married Joseph A. 
Gundersen, November 1, 1934, in 
the Salt Lake Temple. They have 
five children, three girls and two 
boys, and six grandchildren. They 
are as follows: Joan (Mrs. Neil 
R. VanLeeuwen), theology teach- 
er in the Relief Society and coun- 
selor in the district presidency of 
the Y.W.M.LA. in Quantico, Vir- 
ginia; Virginia, (Mrs. Robert I. 
Halgrin), president of the Y.W.- 
M.LA. in Carlo, Montana, and a 
Seminary teacher; Alton Gunder- 
sen, Salt Lake City, active in the 
Priesthood; Thomas C. Gunder- 

sen, a student, who filled a mis- 
sion while with his parents in 
Norway; Retta Jean Gundersen, 
a student in high school. 

Lenore has had the following 
Church assignments, among 
others: teacher in Sunday School; 
ward and stake president of 
Y.W.M.I.A.; ward Relief Society 
presideat, and counselor and 
president in the Valley View 
Stake Relief Society. 

She accompanied her husband 
to Norway when President Gun- 
dersen was called to preside over 
the Norwegian Mission. They 
have recently returned from this 
assignment. While in the mission 
she served as president of the 
mission Relief Societies. 

Lenore Gundersen not only 
brings to the General Board of 
the Relief Society her own hum- 
ble, sweet spirit, charming person- 
ality, and dedication, but also 
great qualities of leadership that 
will benefit all of the sisters in 
the Church. 


Second Prize-winning Story 

Annual Relief Society 

Short Story Contest 

Lael J. Littke 


hadn't noticed that Mama was 
so abused at our house until 
Linda told me about it. She said 
she hadn't even realized it until 
the day the Relief Society visiting 
teachers came and four-year-old 
Cissie let them in. Sister Clayton 
asked if Mama was home, and 
Cissie, pointing with a plump fin- 
ger, said, "She's in there," and 
then added, "Mama lives in the 

I was there, but I wouldn't 
have thought a thing about it, 
which, Linda said later, just went 
to show how much I took Marria 
for granted, but then, what could 
you expect from a ten-year-old? 
she asked. She was fifteen and 
could even conjugate a verb, so 
I figured that she must know 
what she was talking about. 

Linda called a conference with 
Papa that very night while Mama 
was putting Cissie to bed. She 
gave a dramatic re-enactment of 
the scene, with me acting as Sis- 
ter Clayton and asking, "Is your 
mother at home, Cissie?" Then 

in the 

Linda, as Cissie, pointed with an 
elegant flourish of her arm which 
I didn't recall at all and said, 
"She's in there — Mama Hves in 
the kitchen," in a deep, hoarse 
voice that didn't sound much like 

Papa was impressed. "Cissie 
ought to go on the stage," he 

Linda ignored him. "There it 
is," she said, "spoken in the un- 
varnished innocence of youth." 

"I wonder if that's as un- 
blemished as untarnished inno- 
cence," said Papa. Sometimes 
Papa talked very funny. 

"It's a shame," continued Lin- 
da. "Mama never gets out of that 

"Well, now," said Papa, 
scratching his head. "I have to 
dispute that point. I do recollect 
one time we let her out to go 
have a tooth pulled." 

Linda sighed. "Oh, Papa," she 
said, "be serious. Of course she 
gets out for shopping and church 
and things like that, but, figura- 


tively speaking, she's trapped in 
the kitchen. Cissie showed us 
that. Out of the mouths of babes, 
you might say." 

"You might say that," said 

Linda was encouraged. "She 
shouldn't be forced to waste her 
hfe in that kichen doing a job 
any ten-year-old could do. Even 
Karen here," she said, indicating 

"I could not," I said hotly, feel- 
ing somehow that both Mama 
and I were being maligned. 
Frankly, I couldn't think of a 
single place I'd rather spend my 
life than in Mama's big, sunny 
kitchen. It was full of potted 
plants, braided rugs, and good 
things to eat, and the windows 
all along one side let in floods 
of morning sunshine that splashed 
across the breakfast table and 
flowed into our very souls while 
we ate. Papa said once that the 
sunshine was only symbolic of a 
greater light that Mama spread 
around her which, in turn, was a 
reflection of the light of our 

Heavenly Father. It sounded 
awfully nice, even though I 
couldn't understand it all. 

But Linda insisted Mama was 
an unwilling prisoner. 

"What do you propose to do 
about it?" asked Papa. 

"I've been thinking about it all 
day," said Linda, "and I make a 
motion that we let Mama go back 
to work. At least for the rest of 
the summer while I am home to 
run the house and take care of 
the children." Linda didn't con- 
sider herself one of "the children" 
any more. 

"Mama already works," I said. 
"She works all the time." 

"Exactly," said Linda. "But 
what reward does she get? She's 
just wasting her intelligence here 
without achieving anything. 
Cooking, washing dishes, keeping 
house — why, we three girls 
could do that with no trouble at 
all and leave Mama free to work 
and fulfill her ambitions. She can 
go back to the newspaper office 
like Corrine Blake's mother did. 



and wear pretty clothes and meet 
people. Once a journalist, always 
a journalist, you know. The smell 
of printer's ink gets into your 

"Sounds mighty unhealthy," 
commented Papa. 

Linda had a faraway look in 
her eyes. "Mama used to write 
columns about brides and wed- 
dings, and now she lives in the 
kitchen and washes dishes. What 
a comedown!" 

"TeU you what I'll do," said 
Papa. "FU talk to Mama and 
we'll see how she feels about it. 
I'll tell you the verdict in a few 

Linda pestered Papa every day 
to find out how things were going. 
She said she was a woman like 
Mama, and she knew she would 
feel like a caged lioness if she 
were in Mama's place with no 
outside life like school or a job. 
In my mind's eye I pictured 
Mama pacing back and forth 
from room to room with a wild 
look in her eyes like the animals 
at the zoo. It made me feel a 
little lost and lonely to think 
Mama was so unhappy because 
she had to stay home and take 
care of us. She didn't seem un- 
happy. She sang cheerful little 
songs as she went about her work. 
Linda said that was just to keep 
her spirits up. 

One morning after breakfast 
Papa stood up. "Children," he 
said, "and Linda," he added, "un- 
accustomed as I am to public 
speaking, I would hke to make 
an announcement. Mama is going 
back to work — the smell of 

printer's ink is in her blood" — 
he looked at Linda who nodded 
knowingly — "and her old boss 
is putting her back on the pay- 
roll next week to replace a girl 
who is giving it all up to become 
a housewife." 

"Mama, that's wonderful," said 
Linda. "This will give you a 
chance to fulfill yourself." 

"Back to the glamor and ex- 
citement of the newspaper trade," 
said Mama. "Heigh ho and away 
I go. Printer's ink, here I come." 
Mama talked funny sometimes, 

"And I'll take over here at 
home," said Linda. "The first 
week you are not to set foot in 
the kitchen except to eat break- 

"Agreed," said Mama. 

Cissie, who was pouring a little 
mountain of salt from the shaker, 
looked up. "Is Linda going to be 
the Mama?" she asked. 

"No," said Mama, "I'll still be 
the Mama." 

"You can't be the Mama if 
you're not here," said Cissie. 

"I'll be home after work." 

"That's not the same," said 
Cissie. "Linda will be the Mama." 

Cissie even called Linda 
"Mama" the first day after Mama 
went to work. It was like playing 
house and Linda enjoyed playing 
her part. She scarcely listened to 
the instructions Mama gave her 
and wouldn't even let Mama do 
the week's grocery shopping on 
Saturday. She said we would do 
it on Monday. Papa's only in- 
structions were that it would not 
be fair to snitch from the year's 
supply of food that Mama had 



put away. He gave Linda the 
money for the week and said it 
would have to buy everything we 
would need. 

After Mama and Papa left, 
Linda said we would go right out 
and do the marketing. Then we 
would do the housework and go 
to Lacoola Plunge for a swim. 

Things didn't work out quite as 
planned. It took us much longer 
than we expected to do the shop- 
ping, mainly because we went to 
a clothing store first, and all 
bought new swimming suits. Lin- 
da said there was more money 
than we would need for groceries, 
and Mama said we could budget 
the money however we wanted. 
Food was more expensive than 
we had expected, though, and 
when we got everything totaled 
up, we found we had to take back 
a carton of popsicles and two 
boxes of Cracker Jack because we 
didn't have quite enough money. 
When we got home Linda de- 
cided to make a cake before we 
washed the breakfast dishes and 
cleaned the house. She had for- 
gotten to buy vanilla so she sent 
Cissie and me to borrow a tea- 
spoon from Mrs. Blazer next 
door. We walked carefully on the 
way home, but we spilled the 
vanilla, and Linda said only a 
pair of dunces would go borrow 
a teaspoon of vanilla in a tea- 
spoon. I said how else would we 
know how much to borrow and 
she said we could have measured 
it and poured it into a cup. She 
said you really couldn't expect 
too much from children. She put 
the cake in the oven without the 

vanilla, and we waited anxiously 
for it to bake. Linda peeked in- 
side the oven every few minutes 
to see how it was progressing. 
When she finally took it out, it 
was high on one side and 
squashed down on the other. Lin- 
da said that was Cissie's and my 
fault for spilling the vanilla, but 
never mind because she would 
build it up with frosting. At din- 
ner Mama and Papa ate their 
pieces without looking up at all, 
but Cissie and I couldn't eat ours. 
It tasted like a soggy sponge. 
Linda said we couldn't leave the 
table until we ate every last 
crumb, and Cissie cried and said 
she didn't want Linda to be the 
Mama any more. She said she 
would just pretend she was an 
orphan girl while Mama was at 

The next day we forgot about 
Primary, and I ruined my perfect 
attendance record. Linda said it 
wouldn't have done any good to 
remember because she couldn't 
drive the car to take us there. I 
said we could have ridden with 
Mrs. Blazer who teaches Cissie's 
class, but Linda looked angry and 
said I couldn't expect her to 
think of everything, could I? 

On Wednesday Cissie fell off 
the swing and came into the 
house with blood all over her face 
from a cut on her head. Linda 
said the sight of blood made her 
want to faint. I wanted to faint, 
too, but I didn't know quite how 
to go about it, so I cleaned Cissie 
up and poured half a bottle of 
Mercurochrome over the cut. It 
ran all down Cissie's face and 
neck and looked worse than the 



blood. Cissie spent the rest of Linda told us we'd all have to 

the afternoon sitting on the front work hard if we were to get 

porch with Mama's umbrella over finished before 5:30. Mama's 

her head. When Mama came usually cheerful, clean kitchen 

home she said a tiger had bitten was a shambles because we had 

her under the weeping willow tree left the dishes for two days and 

and Mama had better stay home had not scrubbed the floor all 

to protect her. week. Soiled clothes that we 

hadn't bothered to take to the 

That night we didn't have sup- laimdry room were stacked up 

per until late because linda put by the back door, 

the roast in the oven just fifteen Cissie was assigned to try to 

minutes before Mama and Papa scrub the floor. She said she 

came home. She said she guessed didn't have to since Linda wasn't 

it took a while to catch on to the Mama and she didn't have to 

these things. Mama didn't say do what she said. Linda told her 

anything. She just stretched like if she would cooperate we would 

a lady of leisure and said she all go down to the drugstore and 

thought she would read her new have a soda, if Cissie would take 

Relief Society Magazine and go a little more money from her 

to bed. piggy bank. We decided to go get 

On Thursday Linda and I the sodas first to give us energy 

spent most of the day keeping for our work, 

track of Cissie. She kept running By the time we got back it was 

away because she said Linda was nearly 3 : 00 p.m. Linda hurried to 

too bossy, and it wasn't any fun start the washing and ironing 

to be home when Mama wasn't after telling me to cook some 

there. rice. She said since we didn't 

For dinner that night we had have any meat we could just have 

leftovers from the refrigerator rice and pretend we were Chinese, 

because all our grocery money I put a pan of water on to boil 

was gone and we were out of and poured in some rice. I poured 

meat. in the whole package, but that 

On Friday Linda said we would didn't look like enough to feed 

hurry and clean up the house and five people, so I poured in an- 

then go for a swim at Lacoola other box. That filled the pan 

Plunge if Cissie would break open nicely. 

her piggie bank and lend us the Cissie got a pail of water and 

money, since neither Linda nor I swished the mop around in it for 

had a cent in our banks. On awhile just to hear it splash, 

second thought, she said, we then sloshed a lot of water on 

would go swimming first and then the floor and pushed it around 

come back and work. The only with the mop. 

trouble was that we met some of Suddenly I heard Linda 

our friends and stayed until after- scream. On my way to the laun- 

noon. When we did get home, dry room I slipped and fell on 



the flooded floor. Cissie scolded 
me for getting her clean floor 

In the laundry room Linda was 
trying to push oceans of suds 
back into the washing machine. 
"I guess I used too much deter- 
gent," she gasped. We were sur- 
veying the disaster helplessly 
when we both smelled scorching 
cloth. Linda ran to the ironing 
board and snatched up the hot 
iron she had been using, but not 
soon enough. There was a large 
dark brown scorch mark on one 
of Papa's best white shirts. 

''What next?" wailed Linda. 
After unplugging the iron, she 
picked up the shirt and threw it 
into the surging suds which by 
now were foaming down the sides 
and all over the floor. 

Cissie appeared at the door. 
''There's something all over the 
stove," she announced. 

The "something" was rice. Rice 
bubbled up from the pan and rice 
flowed down onto the stove just 
like the detergent flowed from 
the washing machine. There was 
enough rice to feed half of China. 

It took us an hour to clean up 
the mess. It took another hour to 
wash the dishes and make 
Mama's kitchen look presentable. 
Cissie had just enough money left 
in her piggy bank to buy five TV 
dinners to replace the rice which 
we couldn't face eating after we 
had cleaned the stove. 

Papa didn't like TV dinners, 
but he ate his without a word. 
Linda just picked at hers. After 
the rest of us were through, she 
cleared her throat. 

"Mother," she said, and 
paused. Her face was getting a 
little red and she looked as if 
she might cry. 

"Mama," she blurted, "I can't 
take over your job here at home. 
I don't know how to be an econ- 
omist, a psychologist, a chauffeur, 
an efficiency expert, a nurse, a 
chef, a ray of sunshine, and I 
don't know what all." She threw 
up her hands in despair. 

Mama smiled. "You don't learn 
it all at once, dear," she said. "It 
takes practice, just like any other 

"I'm a failure," Linda said with 
a single tear slippery-sliding down 
her cheek. "I didn't do one thing 
right all week." 

"She did, too, Mama," I said, 
feeling that a word should be said 
in her defense. "She did some 
things right." I couldn't think of 
any examples at the moment. 

Linda wiped the tear from her 
cheek and went on. "I thought 
it didn't take much intelligence 
to run a home and that you'd be 
happier working at something 
challenging like Corrine Blake's 

"Corrine Blake's mother works 
because she is a widow and has 
to," said Mama. "I don't have to 
and I don't want to because I 
find my job as a housewife and 
mother to be as challenging and 
fulfilling and rewarding as any 
outside job could ever be, and 
my Church work is stimulating, 
too. My rewards come all the 
time, as when my lovely daugh- 
ters are so sweet and unselfish 



that they are willing to tend the right back into my kitchen where 

house so I can go out to work I belong." Cissie snuggled up to 

because they think it will make her. 

me happier." "And I'll be happy to move out 

"I'm sorry I made you go to and let an expert take over," said 

work," said Linda. Linda. 

"You didn't," said Mama. Papa laughed. "Bit off a little 

"Papa told me you'd like a try more than you could chew, you 

at running the house and my old might say," he said, 

boss needed someone to fill in "That's the truth," grinned 

just until the new girl came. I Linda. 

think you gained quite a respect "You're getting to be an 

for the role of a housewife, and adult," said Papa. "We're proud 

I enjoyed a few days change, so of you. You've grown up a lot 

everything worked out fine. And this week." 

I'm back to stay." Linda patted his hand. 

"Really?" said Linda. "No "Enough to see that if Mama 

more job?" wants to live in the kitchen, as 

"No more job. The smell of Cissie says, things just couldn't 

printer's ink can't even begin to be better." 

compete with the aroma of cook- "Right," said Papa, 

ies baking." "I've learned to leave well 

Cissie had been watching enough alone, you might say," 

Mama quietly. "Are you going to said Linda. 

be the Mama again?" she asked "You might say that," agreed 

hopefully. Papa. 

Mama reached over and gath- We all laughed and the kitchen 

ered Cissie into her lap. "I cer- seemed bright and cheerful even 

tainly am," she said. "I'm moving though the sun was going down. 

Lael Jensen Littke was born and grew up on a farm in Mink Creek, Idaho, 
where her mother still lives. She was graduated from Preston High School 
and Utah State University. 

"The Church has always been the center of my life," she writes, "and it 
has been my training ground, so to speak, in the literary arts, providing me 
with the opportunity to write programs, plays, road shows, readings, stories, 
and poems for use in the wards and stakes where I have lived. I also had the 
privilege of teaching the Relief Society literature lessons in Manhattan Ward 
for five years. 

"My only published manuscripts, other than some in my college literary 
magazine, have been one other story in The Relief Society Magazine and a 
short play in The Children s Friend. 

"We moved this past September to Monterey Park, California, from New 
York City, where we spent nine exciting years while my husband, George C. 
Littke, studied and taught at New York University. He is now Assistant 
Professor of Government at Los Angeles State College, and ward clerk in 
Monterey Park Ward. Our three-year-old daughter Lori is the joy of our 
lives. My greatest pleasures come from working in the Church, writing, and, 
of course, being a housewife and mother who enjoys 'living in the kitchen.' " 




'"^Mlt^hd^ ' 

Don Knight 


Memories — on a Winter Nigiit 

Ida Elaine James 

The white moon shines on the quiet snow-capped roofs, 
White are the drifts along the poplar trees; 
Deep in my heart are softly muffled hoofs 
Breaking the snowy woodway's witcheries. 

The burdened branches loose a shapeless weight 
In silence where the cutter-tracks knife down 
The yielding snow — ^the rabbits perforate 
With bounding feet the wintry monotone. 

As far as the road leads, stillness and white abide, 
As down the heart's lane two in a cutter ride. 



Chapter 1 
Hazel M. Thomson 

Selena Baldwin stood by the 
side of the open grave in the 
cemetery at Winter Quarters. 
With her heart despairing, she 
felt a wave of deep, unreasoning 
resentment against the men, 
healthy and strong, who stood 
with shovels ready. 

How did the Lord decide who 
was to live and who was to die? 
Why, out of the entire camp, 
should she have lost the man she 
had planned to marry? 

It would not be long now, be- 
fore the wagon train was ready 
to leave for the Valley of the 
Great Salt Lake. She and Belle 
must go on alone. 

Selena heard the dull thuds as 
the first shovelfuls of earth fell 
on the wooden box. She felt her 
sister's arm tighten around her 
as Belle said, "Come, Selena. We 
can return when they have fin- 

"No," said Selena. "I will stay 
until it is done." 

Her eyes were dry. She felt at 
that moment that she had cried 
all the tears she would ever have. 
Hadn't she, Selena Baldwin, ac- 
cepted the gospel as soon as the 
missionaries had convinced her 
that it was the truth? She had 
accepted his word. Then why 
should he not bless her with this 



one thing she had wanted and the trail and get the long trek 

prayed for harder than she had underway. Winter Quarters had 

ever prayed before in her entire brought her the greatest sorrow 

life? of her life and she hated the 

The grave was finished and place, 

rounded over to remind Selena "How much longer will it be, 

afresh of the silent form within, Belle?'* she asked, as the month 

so recently warm, loving and of June began, 

laughing at her side. Quietly the ''They are waiting for some 

others withdrew, leaving only the emigrants from England to join 

men gathering up their tools and the wagon train. They left New 

Belle and Selena. The shovels York some days ago. As soon as 

were all placed in the nearby they arrive we shall be on the 

wagon and most of the men way.'' 

climbed in. Still Selena could not "We have everything packed 

bring herself to leave. now, except the few things we 

One young man who had been need," Selena said. "With you 

helping walked past the two wom- taking care of the wagon, getting 

en to get a crowbar and pick. As the tires set and new shoes on 

he returned with them he paused the oxen, the packing isn't much 

and said kindly, "I'm right sorry, of a job." 

Ma'am." "You know how it is with me," 

Selena looked at him dumbly, answered Belle. "I hate being 

unable to answer. cooped up in the house, though 

"Thank you, Sir," answered I must confess that one ox gave 

Belle. me a time getting the shoes on 

Selena, unable to respond to the back feet. I had to rope him 

the compassion in the deep blue and throw him down and tie him 

eyes of the man, turned away. As tight before I could get it done, 

the men drove ofE toward the set- I'd rather shoe a horse any day 

tlement, smaller now than it had of the week!" 

been during those first years of With the arrival of the emi- 

its occupancy by the saints, still grants the time to leave drew 

Selena stood woodenly by the near, and Selena spent many 

grave. At last, as it was growing hours in the cemetery beside the 

dark, Belle took her arm firmly, grave. Belle tried, without avail, 

"Come, Selena," she said. "We to get her sister to make her visits 

must go now." to the graveside short, knowing 

Selena waited a long moment, the deep depression that en- 
Then she answered, "Yes. We gulfed Selena after each pro- 
must go. From this day I do not longed stay. 

do what I want. I do what I "I'll be awfully glad to get 

must." away from here," Belle said one 

morning after her sister had spent 
The weeks to come dragged for much of the night sobbing quiet- 
Selena. She was anxious to be on ly into her pillow. "It's unhealthy 



for you to spend so much time 
in that cemetery." 

"I suppose you think it's easy 
for me to go out there every day," 
answered Selena. 

"No, honey, I don't. I know it 
isn't easy for you, and, since it 
isn't, why do it?" 

"Why do it? Belle! Sometimes 
I think you are completely with- 
out a heart. I loved him, Belle. 
Can't you understand that?" 

"Yes, Selena," answered Belle 
quietly. "I can understand it. 
Believe it or not, I can under- 
stand that you loved him." 

"Oh, Belle," cried Selena, 
throwing her arms around her sis- 
ter's neck. "I didn't mean that. 
I'm just not myself these days." 

"That's just what I mean," 
Belle answered. "Why keep on 
torturing yourself? He wasn't 
worth — ." Belle stopped. 

"You might as well say it!" 
Selena's voice rose to hysterical 
pitch. "You never did like him! 
No wonder you want me to forget 
all about him. But I won't! I 
never will!" 

Selena's voice broke in a sob. 
She ran from the house, and Belle 
watched her as she hurried down 
the street in the direction of the 

The last check of wagons had 
been taken. When the order came 
to get the wagons in place, that 
they were moving out that after- 
noon. Belle was not surprised. 
She did the last loading of their 
wagon and still Selena had not 
returned. Knowing well where 
Selena was. Belle yoked the oxen 
in place and figured to pick up 

her sister as the wagon train 
moved out of town past the cem- 

A man on horseback rode up 
and introduced himself. 

"I'm Josiah Blodgett, Ma'am," 
he said, lifting his hat. "Is your 
husband about ready to start? 
I'm Captain of the ten you'll be 
traveling with. Better tell him 
we're about to move out." 

Belle mustered all the dignity 
she could. "I have no husband," 
she said. "I'm driving this outfit, 
and I'm ready as soon as my sister 
gets back." 

Josiah Blodgett exploded. 
"Gets back! You've only had 
months to get ready. Now we 
have to wait for your sister to get 

Josiah was a small, wiry man 
who rode his horse as if he were 
part of it. Now he stood as tall 
in the stirrups as he could make 
himself. He looked at Belle 
through narrowed eyes. 

"Lon said there were a couple 
of females making this trip by 
themselves. I have the luck to 
draw the ten they are traveling 



"You don't need to worry your- 
self about us. Brother Blodgett," 
said Belle, determinedly. 

"No! I don't need to worry 
about you. All I have to do is 
just your work and mine, too!" 

"You'll not be doing my work, 
Josiah Blodgett," said Belle, her 
temper rising. "I'll walk to the 
Great Salt Lake and pull this 
wagon myself before I'd accept 
one mite of help from you!" 

Josiah looked at Belle, sitting 
large and strong before him on 



the wagon seat. "And you just "There is no need. It will always 

might be able to do it, at that," be there, in my mind." 

he muttered as he gathered his Belle spoke sharply. "I have 

reins tight and started off. the feeling that you are being 

"Better get that sister and be more faithful than he would be 

ready," he called back. "Don't in a like situation." 

start delaying us until we at least "You did not like him," Selena 

get out of town." reminded her, as though speak- 
ing to a child. "You can say that 
if it pleases you, but you have no 

Selena knelt on the clods of proof." 

sun-baked earth for a long time. "I. ..." Belle opened her mouth 

Then a cloud of dust arose and to say more, then she thought 

she saw many wagons moving better of it. She called to one of 

along the road. They had started! the oxen instead, as Selena lapsed 

Belle had said it might be today back into silence, 

but she had forgotten. Selena felt Determined that she would not 

a little guilty at having left every- prove to be a drawback to the 

thing at the last to Belle, but day's progress. Belle had had her 

never once did the thought occur oxen yoked and ready for the 

to her that her sister might not day's journey before anyone else 

be ready. No man in the entire in camp. The same thing was true 

train was more efficient than that night. She could unyoke a 

Belle. Their wagon would be in team of oxen as quickly as any 

place all right. Selena took a long man in the wagon train. Since she 

last look at the grave, etching it had a special reason for wanting 

in her memory, then she turned to do so, she made it a point to be 

resolutely away and walked to- just a little faster; to see that 

ward the road. whenever Josiah came around of 

Belle brought the oxen to a halt an evening, her team was already 
only for a moment while Selena turned out to grass, 
climbed lightly up onto the seat They had been on the trail a 
beside her. Belle looked at her week before Selena saw Lon Hol- 
sister's tear-reddened eyes and iday. When she did, it took a 
did not speak until they came to moment before she could remem- 
the last place on the road from her where she had seen him be- 
where the cemetery could still be fore. It was the deep blue of his 
seen. Selena sat small and silent eyes that recalled h i m — t h e 
without moving. Belle cleared her young man at the cemetery on 
throat. the day of the funeral. It was 

"We will be out of sight of it with an effort that Selena was 

in a few moments, Selena. Would able to speak civilly to him, re- 

you like to look back?" membering still her smoldering 

Selena continued to stare resentment, 

straight ahead. "I shall not see it He nodded to Selena but di- 

again," she said, her features set. rected his remarks to Belle. 



"I know Josiah can take care 
of his ten wagons all right but I 
want you to know I, too, am 
ready to help in any way I can. 
I'm Lon Holiday and captain of 

We're getting along real well," 
said Belle, "but thanks just the 
same. It does seem good to know 
there's someone looking out for 
us a bit." 

"Well, Josiah's a good man on 
a wagon train. There's nothing 
about this kind of traveling that 
he doesn't know," said Lon, fac- 
ing Belle, but his eyes were on 

"Except how to hold his 
tongue!" said Belle, sharply. 

Lon looked again at Belle and 

"You've had a word with him, 
have you?" 

"The first and the last," said 
Belle. "I've had all the words I 
care to have with him." 

"I've seen him in many a tight 
spot, but Josiah always finds a 
way out." 

"That's good," said Belle. 
"Just let him come around this 
wagon and he'll need to find a 
way out, quick!" 

Lon rode on toward the end 
of the wagon train, chuckling. 

"Now there is a man'' said 
Belle, "one that you could de- 
pend on. Somehow I feel quite a 
bit easier, to know that our get- 
ting to the Valley doesn't depend 
upon the leadership of Josiah 

Selena did not answer, and 
Belle had the impression, as she 

often did, that she was concerned 
little with the present. 

From that night on Lon Holi- 
day made it a point to call at 
the Baldwin wagon each evening 
to offer his services. 

Selena answered briefly but 
very definitely each time that 
there was nothing he could do. 
Then one evening he came just 
as Belle was replacing the brake 
block that had come loose and 
fallen out. He took the axe from 
her capable hands and cut the 
stump of a tree she was working 
on, to size, and drove it in be- 
tween the iron cleats. 

"There," he said, as he fin- 
ished wedging the block in tight. 
"That ought to hold you for a- 
while. Better not tell your sister 
I helped. She might not ride in 
the wagon if she knew I fixed the 
brake block." 

"It isn't you particularly, with 
Selena," said Belle. ''She's hav- 
ing a bad time. The best thing 
anyone can do right now is leave 
her pretty much to herself. Where 
are your folks, Lon?" 

"They couldn't accept the 
truth," answered Lon. "After I 
joined the Church, they couldn't 
accept me, either. They are still 
living, back in Massachusetts. 
And I am not welcome." 

"That's a coincidence," said 
Belle. "Same with Selena and me. 
Our folks couldn't believe it 
either, but we both knew the mis- 
sionaries were teaching the truth, 
and we had to come." 

"You and Selena. I still find 
it strange to think the two of 
you are sisters." 

"It surprised you, did it? I'm 



not surprised. Everyone finds it 
hard to believe, what with Selena 
being dark and so much smaller 
and, well, just prettier than I am. 
No one has ever taken us to be 
sisters, or for that matter, been 
hardly able to believe we were 
once they found it out." 

"Oh, I didn't mean . . ." began 
Lon, embarrassed by the turn the 
conversation had taken. 

"It doesn't matter," replied 
Belle, getting to her feet and 
picking up the axe, as Lon rode 

At the evening dances around 
the campfires, Selena and Belle 
usually sat together, watching 
rather than dancing, but for en- 
tirely different reasons. Selena 
would have none of the gaiety 
and laughter and few of the 
young men were anxious to ask 

"I did. Just once," said John 
Meeks, "and that was enough. 
Why, she'd like to have picked me 
up and swung me clear off the 
ground every time the caller said 
'Swing your partners.' I just 
don't think it's safe." 

This warning, coupled with the 
natural disinclination of the other 
young men to have Belle for a 
partner, kept her watching rather 
than taking part in the dancing. 

Any young man in the camp 
would have been pleased to dance 
with Selena. Many of them asked 
her at the beginning, but her re- 
peated refusals were sufficient to 
discourage the most eager of the 

It almost angered Selena to see 
others gay and happy with the 

memory of her own sorrow fresh 
and new. 

"Why do they have to dance 
so much?" she asked Belle as 
they sat in front of their wagon, 
the music filling the night air. 
"I should think once in awhile 
would be enough, but no, it's 
every single night except Sun- 

"They need to dance, Selena," 
Belle answered. "They have all 
had just as hard a day as we 
have. They need to relax." 

"That's just what I mean." 

Selena spoke heatedly, "Only 
day before yesterday old Brother 
Christiansen was buried along the 
way. And here they are, again 
tonight, dancing as though noth- 
ing had happened." 

"We can't just give ourselves 
up to grief and sorrow, Selena." 
Belle arose and stood tall beside 
her sister. "No one can keep on 
living with just memories." 

"Belle!" Selena cried. "How 
can you be so cruel?" She whirled, 
running toward the back of the 
wagon as Lon came around it 
from the other direction. She 
bumped hard against him and he 
caught her in his arms, steadying 
her a moment to keep her from 

"I'm sorry," he apologized, and 
drew back as she regained her 

"Let me alone!" she cried. 

"I came at the wrong time, it 
seems," said Lon to Belle. "Seems 
like I always show up at the 
wrong time, as fair as Selena is 

"There's never a right time to 



be around Selena these days," Belle was quiet for a long mo- 
answered Belle. ment, watching the dancing. "So 

"I'd hke to be of more help, that's the way it is." 

You're too efficient, Belle. I'd "That's the way it is," said Lon 

feel a lot better if I could do quietly. "That's the way it has 

something for the two of you." been ever since I first saw Selena, 

Belle looked at him squarely, back there at the grave in Winter 

"You mean for Selena." It was a Quarters." 

statement, not a question. Lon After a time. Belle spoke again, 

did not evade it. "It will take a long time, Lon." 

"Yes, I do," he said. "But you "I have plenty. Someday I 

are her family, Belle. I mean for mean to marry Selena," 

you, too." (To be continued) 

Book Interest 

Pearie M. Olsen 

I always like to read a book 
And lose my sense of here. 
Books help me know of other folks 
Another place . . . another year. 

I learn of new and unknown lands — 
Some I may never see, 
And things that happen in a book 
Are happening to me. 

I know just why I like to read — 
Of course I think it's fun, 
Yet, by the printed word I can 
See through the eyes of anyone. 

I listen to the things folks say, 
And sense the way they feel. 
I learn so much of what they know — 
All these things books reveal. 

I love to live vicariously 
Through books, within my niche. 
I save on travel and expense — 
Yet my experiences are rich. 



Ramona W. Cannon 

M RS. Sarah Tilghman Hughes — 
since 1935 Judge of the Four- 
teenth District Court of Dallas 
— swore in Lyndon Baines John- 
son as President of the United 
States, on the plane returning the 
body of President Kennedy to 
Washington. Mrs. Johnson and 
Mrs. Kennedy stood near the new 
President. Judge Hughes was the 
first woman to become a district 
judge in Texas. She served three 
terms in the lower house of the 
Texas legislature, and once was 
unanimously voted by the news- 
men covering the legislature the 
most valuable member of the 
body. In 1952 she was endorsed 
for the United States vice-presi- 
dential nomination by the Na- 
tional Federation of Business and 
Professional Women. 

Agnes de Mille, a great Ameri- 
can choreographer, is the author 
of The Dance (Golden Press), 
which traces the development of 
dancing in its many forms — 
theatrical, social, ritualistic. Il- 
lustrated with 400 pictures, the 
book presents a discussion of the 
work of such famous dancers as 
Isadora Duncan, Martha Graham, 
Doris Humphrey, Carlotta Grisi, 
and Margot Fonteyn. 

Claudia Taylor (Lady Bird) 
Johnson, the new First Lady of 
the United States, has been an 
unusually capable helpmate to 
her husband in his political, so- 
cial, and personal life. Neverthe- 
less, she has retained a strong 
individuality of her own. An 
honor student in journalism at 
the University of Texas, she has 
continued to be an omnivorous 
reader, an intelligent observer of 
the world around her, and a wom- 
an of empathy for human beings. 
She learned Spanish as a com- 
municating link with other 
peoples. She excels as a home- 
maker and hostess, and her busi- 
ness acumen has stretched an 
inheritance into a comfortable 
fortune, principally by way of 
radio and television enterprises. 
The Johnsons have two daugh- 
ters, Lynda Bird, nineteen, and 
Lucy Baines, sixteen. 

Dr. Elizabeth J. Bottcher is as- 
sistant chief of pathology at the 
Salt Lake City, Utah, Veterans 
Administration Hospital. One of 
the best known pathologists in 
the United States, she was for- 
merly associated with the Ro- 
chester Hospital in New York. 


Volume 51 February 1964 Number 2 

The Words That Women Write 

A woman in her home may find a recreation and a hobby, as well 
as continuing joy in recording her thoughts, her hopes, and inspira- 
tion, and the history of her beloved family. The words that she writes 
may be in the form of letters to the dear ones in the home of her 
girlhood, to her husband's cherished people, to her children or grand- 
children away at school, or in the mission field. She may inscribe 
for future generations the family faith, and the coming together of 
the intellectual legacies of ancestors remote in the stream of time. 

The woman who finds that words move easily from her mind 
to the written page, may hope that her talents and incHnations can 
be developed beyond the lovely art of letter writing and record 
keeping, to the more formal composition of poetry and essays 
and stories — more ambitious writings, intended for an audience 
beyond the family circle. 

One whose written words are to be treasured over the genera- 
tions must be close to the deep springs of life — close to the world 
of nature — the earth home — close to flowers and trees and the 
majesty and symbolism of mountains — near to the stark somber- 
ness of the desert and akin to the greening furrows and the golden 
harvest. This is the objective, lovely, beckoning world that can be 
interpreted through a gifted individual who is grateful for her tenure 
upon the earth — stirred by the moods of clouds and wind and rain 
— and the silent winter of snow. 

In addition to self-expression from a personal interpretation of 
the natural environment, a writer needs to strive for an awareness 
of the weakness and the strength, the joy and the sorrow, the hopes 
and the relinquishing that characterize the developing human spirit. 


Belle S. Spafford, President 
Marianne C. Sharp, First Counselor 
Louise W. Madsen, Second Counsek 
Hulda Parker, Secretary-Treasurer 

Anna B. Hart 
Edith S. Elliott 
Florence J. Madsen 
Leone G. Layton 
Blanche B. Stoddard 
Evon W. Peterson 
Aleine M. Young 
Josie B. Bay 
Alberta H. Christensen 
Mildred B. Eyring 
Charlotte A. Larsen 
Edith P. Backman 
Winniefred 8. Manwaring 
EIna P. Haymond 
Mary R. Young 
Mary V. Cameron 
Afton W. Hunt 
Wealtha S. Mendenhall 
Pearle M. Olsen 

Elsa T. Peterson 
Fanny S. Kienitz 
Elizabeth B. Winters 
LaRue H. Rosell 
Jennie R. Scott 
Alice L Wilkinson 
LaPriel S. Bunker 
frene W. Buehner 
Irene C. Lloyd 
Hazel S. Cannon 
Hazel S. Love 
Fawn H. Sharp 
Celestia J. Taylor 
Anne R. Gledhill 
Beiva Barlow 
Zola J. McGhie 
Oa J. Cannon 
Lila B. Walch 
Lenore C. Gundersen 

Some women have an empathy and discernment that glow as a Hght 
upon them; and others, perhaps more withdrawn, must cultivate 
their abiUty to enter into the lives of others and try to understand 
their problems, as they desire to set their pens to words which they 
hope will enrich and uplift the lives of others. 

The joy a woman finds in self-expression gives her a glance into 
a wider world, for she soon realizes that self-expression can have a 
broader meaning if it is disciplined, upward-reaching, and forever 

There must be knowledge and experience in the use of words — 
how they may be put together for specific purposes and molded into 
authentic form and living strength. The rich heritage of all ages is 
available in the countless writings that have blessed the generations. 
The Bible speaks forever in inspired words of power and sublime 
beauty — "fire, and hail; snow, and vapours; stormy wind, fulfilling 
his word .... He telleth the number of the stars; he calleth them 
all by their names." 

The Book of Books can be a schooling and an ever-present help 
to one who would set in words the certitudes of life here and here- 
after. Poetry and prose of the ages, and down to the present time, 
if carefully chosen, can yield a rich background and make the foun- 
tain of words resplendent with many jeweled facets. 

A woman in her home, even in the short periods of comparative 
quietude, may take her pen in hand and draw upon her wide 
thoughts, her limitless environment, her family, her friends, and the 
gospel light, and may build with words her house of truth and beauty. 

—V. P. C. 


Index for 1963 Relief Society iVIagazine Available 

Copies of the 1963 index for The Relief Society Magazine are avail- 
able and may be ordered from the General Board of Relief Society, 
76 North Main Street, Salt Lake City, Utah 84111. The price is 
twenty cents, including postage. Rehef Society officers and members 
who wish to have their 1963 issues of The Relief Society Magazine 
bound may do so through The Deseret News Press, 33 Richards 
Street, Salt Lake City, Utah 84101. (See advertisement on page 159.) 
The Deseret News Press includes a copy of the index at no extra 
charge for each set of Magazines bound. 

Award Subscriptions Presented in April 

The award subscriptions presented to Magazine representatives for 
having obtained 75 per cent or more subscriptions to the Magazine 
in relation 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 1963 
will be mailed to ward and stake, mission and branch Magazine 
representatives about April 1, 1964. 

Even the desire to do our best brings hope and the beginnings of happiness. 
How rich then may be the rewards when desire is followed with good works. 

—Pauline Bell 


Heart Fund Dollars Buy Life and Hope 

The American Heart Association 

As wives and mothers, women are the guardians of family health 
and welfare. They know the heartbreak of helping youngsters struggle 
against the handicaps of rheumatic fever or inborn heart defects, of 
caring for aged parents overcome by stroke. Too often they know 
the loneliness of widowhood when — sometimes without warning — 
husbands are felled by heart attack. 

That is why so many voluntarily serve in community-wide rheu- 
matic fever prevention programs — why mothers whose children have 
recovered from heart operations offer friendly, sympathetic encour- 
agement to parents of youngsters with heart defects; why wives and 
mothers have made the hope of recovery at home a reaHty for 
hundreds of thousands of cardiac children, heart* attack, and stroke 
victims. It is a cause that women take to their hearts, year after year. 

Heart fund dollars help to pay for life-saving advances in treat- 
ment of heart attack, high blood pressure, strokes, rheumatic fever. 
New techniques of diagnosis and surgery for inborn heart defects 
have created hope where none existed. Heart fund dollars buy life 
and hope. 


Mary Brown 

How fortunate, a woman I was born, 
Although I doubt that men can understand 
Why we accept our lot rather than scorn 
The fact that they're our masters, in command. 

in viewing life just merely with the eye, 
Men seem to reign in stature and in state. 
But spiritually they lack, and this is why 
For happiness complete they need a mate. 

So God created women to give birth, 
That every living soul may draw a breath. 
And to fulfill his plan for life on earth. 
Then call us back to him through mortal death. 

And so, you see, we walk right by his side. 
And thus accept our womanhood with pride. 

Note: The author of this poem is seventeen years old. 


National Children's Dental Health Week 

February 2 - 8, 1964 

"Keep Your Smile — Take Care of Your Teeth" 

American Dental Association 

Correct diagnosis and treatment of irregular tooth position and 
jaw relationship in early youth can have immeasurable benefits 
throughout life. The most critical period of dental development oc- 
curs during the change from the primary to the secondary dentition. 
Not only will the biting and chewing process benefit with proper 
orthodontic treatment, but in the absence of marked malocclusion 
(irregular tooth position), severe peridontal (gimi) disease rarely 
exists. The "baby" teeth not only serve for biting and chewing, but 
they maintain the arch length for the permanent teeth. Loss of this 
arch length occurs when a tooth is removed and no measure taken 
to maintain the space. Restorations must be properly contoured to 
maintain contact, and thereby insure space for the permanent suc- 
cessors. At about eight years of age, the child enters the "early mixed 
dentition period," when the four permanent incisors (front teeth) and 
the four first permanent molars have replaced the primary teeth. 
It is at this time when overcrowding may occur and cause unahgned 
teeth. When the child is about eleven or twelve, and most of the per- 
manent teeth are in, the child should be carefully checked to see that 
the proper fitting together of the teeth is developing normally. Even 
in adult dentition all missing teeth should be promptly replaced. 

Did the Groundhog See His Shadow? 

Evalyn M. Sandberg 

With gold stuffed in hip pockets, 

Bees labor through blue skies 

From feather-bloomed acacia 

In a month that, otherwise. 

The calendar calls winter. 

But snow forgot to fall; 

And an almond tree, amazingly, 

Drops petals on a wall. 

There is an oak upon the hillside 

Beneath which I would lie 

While cotton-candy cumulus 

Careens across the sky. 

No leaden hours to underscore 

One hint of doubt or fear — 

This must be summer gladness 

Come earlier this year. 


inside and out 


Enola Chamberlin 

When in your heart the hours are long, 
And clouds brood low above the trees, 
Remember days of summer song 
And sun and shadow filigrees. 

Remember robins, red of vest, 
And dogwood bushes all in bloom, 
The sunlight on the mountain crest, 
A lily's white perfume. 

Remember dawns that spread like flowers. 
With pearl and opal coloring — 
As drouth-dry earth remembers showers, 
As winter winds remember spring. 


Helen Hinckley Jones 

TODAY is Valentine's day — the day for lovers and for love. 
When we were young the beautiful valentine box at school was 
almost as exciting as Christmas with Santa Claus and his false 
whiskers, his hearty voice that sounded so much like Brother Hart- 
man's, his bags of candy and unshelled nuts. 

On Valentine's day we didn't want anyone in our schoolroom 
to be hurt or left out, so we proudly slipped a valentine for every 
member of the class in that fabulous red and white box. All day 
we fidgeted, waiting for the last period when the box would be opened 
and the valentines would be distributed. After that magic hour we 
proudly surveyed our remembrances. If everybody liked us we had 
as many valentines as there were children in the room. What hap- 

More important than the sentiments expressed in neat trite 
verses was the beauty of the valentines. Collapsible tissue inserts 
that stretched to things of rare beauty when the valentine stood up 
by itself, giving an extra dimension to the picture; animation in the 
form of moving arms, legs, eyes; enormous size — all of these were 
more important to us than the loving care bestowed upon wallpaper 
and floral creations. First we counted the "boughten" valentines — 
then the others. Yet we made valentines filled with love and thought- 
fulness for our mothers, and if we had any time left over we made 
them for our fathers. 

In those days to be liked by everyone was enough — and with 
a heap of valentines to prove this, our cup was running over. 

As we grew older the valentine box disappeared from our teach- 
er's desk. Then we wanted not half a hundred valentines, but one 
from that special person. We were learning that "all the little bees 
and all the little bears, never go by threes but always go in pairs." 
We didn't know what love was; but we did know how it felt to be 


attracted to one perfect 
person. Valentine's day 
was for us a day of affir- 
mation. It was a day that 
made us feel important 
and worthwhile because 
we meant something spe- 
cial to somebody who 

But now, my dear husband, we have put away childish things. 
We still are made happy by the affection and regard of all of our 
acquaintances and friends. We still need assurance that the people 
we care for care for us. But now there is something richer, deeper, 
more mystic, more mysterious. There is love. 

No one can really define love. We can describe its symptoms, 
but we can't explain it. We know what it isn't, but we can't know 
fully what it is. Where words end, love begins. How lucky we are, 
you and I, that we can feel the things we cannot speak. How very 
lucky I am that I can feel love for you and know deep inside myself 
that you feel love for me. 

Where is love born? "Deep in unfathomable depths." But once 
the seed of love was planted deep it was nurtured by shared joy and 
shared disappointment, by shared successes and shared failures. 
People must laugh together, and cry together, too, to bring love 
to bloom. These we have done. The babies we lost brought us to- 
gether in sorrow, the daughters we have reared have bonded us in 
joy. And in sorrow or joy we have felt the spirit of each other and 
have said, "We thank thee, God, that our union is eternal." 

More poets have written about love than any other subject, 
yet what have they said? They have agreed that it is the mystery 
of life, the surge and swell of the heart that makes living in this 
world an ecstacy. "How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. ..." 

And so, even on Valentine's day I can't tell you what you mean 
to me, how my heart lifts when you come home, how things in the 
world have new vitality because we are together. 

I can only plead in the most ordinary way, "Be my Valentine." 



Janet W. Breeze 

A mother's baking day is always evidence of love toward her hungry family, 
but this treat is more than just evidence. It even looks like a token of love. 

The special equipment needed for this heart-shaped dessert is one eight- 
inch square cake tin and one eight-inch round cake tin. Use them in which 
to bake your favorite cake. 

When the cake is cool, cut the round layer in half. These halves make 
the top sides of the heart. The square layer placed at diamond angle forms 
the bottom of the heart. 

Arrange the cake on a large plate or tray, first placing small paper doilies 
around the cake to form a lacy background. 

Now frost the cake pink and pretty with no-cook valentine icing, topped 
with sprinkles of coconut, for a special family treat that looks good enough 
for a party. 

No-Cook Valentine Icing 

V4 tsp. salt 
2 egg whites 

c. sugar 

c. corn syrup 

tsp. flavoring 



red food flavoring 

Add salt to egg whites and beat to soft peaks. Gradually stir in sugar 
and beat until shiny. Continue beating and add corn syrup gradually. Beat 
until icing stands in fairly firm peaks. Fold in flavoring and food coloring. 


Part V — Wonders With Wheat Using Bulgur 
or Craciced Wheat 

Marion Bennion, Ph.D. 

Chairman, Department of Food and Nutrition 
Brigham Young University 

Foods made from wheat are grows easily in soils and climates 
popular and widely used today in many areas of the world. It 
in many parts of the world. Bread stores easily. It has high food 
has often been called the "staff value. The proteins in the ground 
of life," and it is certainly well or milled wheat, on wetting and 
deserving of this title. Its pres- mixing, give rise to gluten which 
ence or absence, as well as its is strong and elastic and makes 
quality, have influenced history possible a yeast-leavened, hght 
through many centuries. In the loaf of bread. These should cer- 
United States today there is tainly be sufficient reasons for 
available a great variety of good its popularity, 
food, and the average American Wheat and wheat products 
eats many of these foods in ad- provide us with a comparatively 
dition to bread. However, in inexpensive source of calories 
America, foods made from wheat and protein. In a limited family 
contribute about one-fourth of food budget they can be used to 
the total energy requirements of great advantage. However, the 
man, while in some European form of these products should be 
countries, the wheat products carefully chosen. Unenriched 
are nearly twice as great. white flour or bread, for instance. 
The progenitor of our wheat is not a good buy — either eco- 
today, the parent wheat, einkorn, nomically or nutritionally. It does 
was apparently cultivated several not contribute anything but calo- 
thousand years ago in the Near ries and protein, the B-vitamins 
East, and with new types de- and minerals having been lost in 
veloped, spread all over the world, milling. Whole wheat or enriched 
Even now in various parts of the white flours and products made 
globe wheat is being substituted from these flours give you much 
for other cereal grains in human more for your money and for 
diets. your calories, and this is especial- 
Why is wheat so popular? It ly important where wheat prod- 



ucts are being used in fairly, large 

Wheat may be used in many 
delightful ways for family meals. 
It may be used whole, cracked, 
or ground into flour. If you have 
eaten in an Armenian restaurant 
you may have been served a de- 
licious golden pilaf made from 
pre-cooked and dried wheat called 
bulgor or bulgur. Bulgur wheat 
has been a staple in the diets of 
the peoples of the Middle East 
for many centuries. It has been 
produced commercially in the 
United States for a number of 
years and is gaining favor with 
American consumers. It is also 
being shipped abroad to food- 
short countries. 

When bulgur is used in a 
variety of dishes it has the ad- 
vantages of cooking more rapidly 
than whole or cracked wheat, and 
it may also have developed a de- 
lightful flavor from its precooking 
and drying process. The Western 
Regional Research Laboratory at 
Albany, California, has developed 
a large number of recipes using 
bulgur. You may be able to pur- 
chase commercially prepared bul- 
gur or, if you are storing your 
own supply of whole wheat, you 
may enjoy preparing your own. 

To Make Bulgur Wheat 

1. Wash wheat in cool water and 
discard water. 

2. Boil wheat in excess water until 
all water is absorbed and wheat is 
tender — 35 to 45 minutes, usually. 

3. Spread wheat thinly on cookie 
sheet or shallow pan and dry in oven 
at 200° F until very dry so that it 
will crack easily. 

4. Wet surface of dried wheat slight- 

ly and rub kernels between hands to 
loosen and remove chaff. 

5. Crack wheat in moderate-size 
pieces, using mill or grinder or even 
a mortar and pestle. In some cases 
the wheat may be used whole, giving 
a very chewy product. 

6. This processed bulgur is easily 
stored and may be used in any of the 
following recipes. If the recipe calls 
for cooked bulgur simply boil in water 
for 5 to 10 minutes, whereby it will 
approximately double in volume. 

If bulgur is not available or 
you do not care to make it your- 
self, you may substitute regular 
cracked wheat with satisfactory 
results. In either case, try serving 
wheat pilaf with a meat and vege- 
table plate. It has a sweet, nut- 
like flavor and crunchy texture 
your family should like very 
much. Or the wheat will make 
an excellent meat extender when 
used in the meat loaf, Swedish 
meat balls, Mexican bulgur chili, 
or chicken curry pilaf recipes. 

Cooked and chilled bulgur may 
be added to your favorite cole 
slaw recipe for a most interesting 
and enjoyable salad. In fact, 
almost the only limit to its use 
is your imagination. 

Bulgur, soaked overnight in 
salt water, may be added to 
yeast rolls for a nut-like flavor 
and texture. It is also used in 
the raisin bar recipe. 

Using wheat in another form, 
that of flour, by making bread at 
home, may mean a savings of 
food money, especially if flour 
and yeast are purchased in large 
quantities and bread is a main- 
stay of the family fare. If whole 
wheat is part of your food stor- 
age plan, you will undoubtedly 



have a grinder or at least access 
to the use of one. Whole-wheat 
bread made from your own flour 
is a most welcome addition to a 
carefully planned, economical 
food supply. 

Baking bread is really very 
easy when it is conveniently fitted 
into a household schedule, and it 
can be lots of fun for most people 
— especially for the family when 
the bread first comes out of the 
oven. There is absolutely nothing 
quite like the aroma and mouth- 
watering flavor of freshly baked 
homemade bread. You know that 
experiences with food are often 
the center of values and feelings 
which have nothing to do with 
nutrition. This indescribable odor 
of fresh bread baking when your 
children come home from school 
or in from play will probably give 
them valued associations and 
memories for their entire lives. 

There are really many wonder- 
ful things one can do with wheat. 
The following recipes will give 
you a start. I hope you will try 


Where bulgur is called for in a 
recipe, cracked wheat may be sub- 


2 c. cooked bulgur 

3 tbsp. shortening, oil or margarine 
V4 c. chopped onion 

1 tsp. salt 

3 c. bouillon or soup stock 

(Cook 1 cup of dry bulgur for 10-15 
minutes in excess water or until water is 
absorbed and wheat is soft. It will double 
in size.) If using cracked wheat, cook it a 
little longer. 

Melt shortening in a large frying pan. 
Saute wheat and chopped onion about 5 
minutes. Add salt and liquid. Reduce heat. 

cover tightly, and simmer until the liquid 
is absorbed (about 15-20 minutes). If a more 
crunchy pilaf is desired, "it is suggested that 
cooked whole bulgur be used in place of the 
cracked (uncooked) bulgur. Makes 6 to 8 


114; c. cooked or canned bulgur 

1 egg 

1/2 c. milk 
11/2 tsp. salt 
Vs tsp. pepper 
% tsp. sage 

2 tsp. Worcestershire sauce 

14 c. chopped onion 
Va c. ketchup 

1 lb. ground beef 

Blend ingredients together. Turn into loaf 
pan or shape into loaf in a shallow baking 
dish. If desired, spread surface with thin 
layer of ketchup. Bake in moderate oven, 
325° F, for about 1 hour or until nicely 
browned. Makes 6 to 8 servings. 


1 V4 c. cooked bulgur 

1 egg 

1/2 c. milk 

2 tbsp. minced onion 
Vs tsp. mace 

Va tsp. allspice 

1 tsp. salt 
Va tsp. Worcestershire sauce 

1 lb. ground beef 
Va c. flour 

1 tsp. salt 
Va tsp. pepper 

3 tbsp. shortening 
1 tbsp. flour 

V2 c. bouillon or soup stock 
V2 c. milk 
Va tsp. salt 

Combine bulgur, egg, milk, onion, mace, 
allspice, salt, Worcestershire sauce, and 
ground beef. Form balls about iy2 inches 
in diameter. Roll balls in Va c. flour seasoned 
with 1 tsp. salt and Va tsp. pepper. Heat 3 
tbsp. shortening in a large skillet. Add meat 
balls and saute over moderate heat for about 

15 minutes until lightly browned on all sides. 
Remove balls. Blend the drippings with 1 



tbsp, flour, then remove from heat gnd stir 
in beef bouillon, Vi c. milk, !4 tsp. salt and 
some pepper to taste. Return to heat and 
bring to a boil strirring constantly until 
thickened. Reduce heat. Place meat balls 
in sauce, cover and cook 15-20 minutes. 
Makes 5-6 servings. 


2 tbsp. oil 

1 lb. ground beef 
% c. chopped onion 
Va tsp. garlic salt 

2 c. cooked bulgur 

5 c. bouillon or soup stock 

1 tbsp. chili powder 
V/i tbsp. flour 

1 tsp. salt 
Vs tsp. oregano 
few grains cayenne pepper 

1 c. tomato sauce 

Heat the oil in a heavy skillet. Add ground 
beef, chopped onion, and garlic salt. Saute 
over moderate heat until onions are lightly 
browned. Blend in the cooked bulgur and the 
remainder of the ingredients. Cover and 
simmer for about 1 hour, stirring occasional- 
ly. Makes 6 to 8 servings. 


Va c. shortening 

Vi c. chopped onion 

1 medium-sized tart apple, peeled, cored, 
and chopped 

1 c. thinly sliced celery 

2 tsp. curry powder 
Ve tsp. ginger 

2 tbsp. flour 

Vh tsp. salt 

Va tsp. pepper 

41/2 c. chicken bouillon (canned, cubes, or 

soup stock) 
Va c. milk 

2 c. cooked bulgur 

2 c. diced chicken (or turkey) 

Heat shortening in heavy skillet. Add 
onion, apple, and celery. Saute over mod- 
erate heat until onions are lightly browned. 
Blend in the curry powder, ginger, flour, salt, 
and pepper. Remove from heat and stir in 
bouillon, and milk. Add the bulgur and diced 
chicken. Cover and simmer over low heat 
for 15 minutes. Makes 5 to 6 servings. 


1/2 c. dry bulgur (cracked) 
1 c. cold water 

y-i tsp. so It 

1 pkg. yeast, active dry or compressed yeast 

1 c. warm water (lukewarm for compressed 

Va c. oil 

2 tsp. salt 
Vi c. sugar 

1 c. lukewarm evaporated milk (2 c. whole 
milk or reconstituted dry milk, scalded and 
cooled to lukewarm, may be substituted 
for the water and evaporated milk in the 

1 egg, slightly beaten 

about 6 c. white enriched flour 
Soak the bulgur in 1 c. cold water and Vi 
tsp. salt for several hours or overnight. In 
a large bowl dissolve the yeast in the warm 
water; add milk, sugar, oil, 2 tsp. salt, and 
beaten egg. Add the soaked wheat mixture. 
Sift the flour, and mix to make a stiff dough. 
Turn out on a floured board and knead until 
the dough is smooth and elastic. 


4 tbsp. margarine 

4 tbsp. flour 

Vi tsp. salt 
1% c. milk (reconstituted dry milk or diluted 

evaporated milk may be used) 
Y/a c. cooked bulgur 
Va tsp. dry mustard 
Va tsp. salt 

2 oz. sharp cheddar cheese 

1 c. (1 can) tuna fish (chunk style) 

Melt margarine in saucepan over low heat. 
Blend in flour and V2 tsp. salt. Add milk all 
at once. Cook quickly, stirring constantly 
until the mixture thickens and bubbles (takes 
about ten minutes). Remove sauce from heat 
when it bubbles. Add cooked bulgur, dry 
mustard, and salt. Grate or slice the cheddar 
cheese and stir into mixture, reserving a 
layer for the surface. Add tuna fish, with 
little stirring so that the chunks will not 
break up. Put mixture into a loaf pan or 
casserole dish and spread remaining cheese 
over the surface. Sprinkle with paprika. Bake 
at 375° for 30 to 40 minutes or until lightly 
browned and bubbly. Makes 5 to 6 servings. 


Letty S. Mickelson Makes Appliqued Quilts for Relief Society Bazaars 

Letty S. Mickelson, Thatcher, Arizona, has made many beautiful appliqued 
quilts for Relief Society bazaars in her home ward. The above picture illustrates 
some of the intricate and exquisite patterns which she has appliqued. Some of 
the designs she has used have been her original patterns, and others she has 
purchased. One of her quilts — the American Glory — was on exhibition at the 
work meeting display during the Relief Society Annual General Conference 
in 1962. Although Mrs. Mickelson does not do the actual quilting herself, she 
threads needles for the quilters who work out her lovely designs in the colors 
which she has selected. 

Mrs. Mickelson was a member of the first group of nurses to be graduated 
from the L.D.S. Hospital in Salt Lake City, Utah, and she has continued to 
use her skill and training in this field for the benefit of her friends and neigh- 
bors. She has served Relief Society for many years and is a former president 
of Thatcher Ward Relief Society. 


Chapter 8 (Conclusion) 

LuANA was clearing the breakfast 
table, after the children had gone 
to school, when Millie Togo came 
in through the bamboo curtains. 
Her smile was a white flash in 
her golden brown face. 

She had brought her baby 
wrapped in the white embroi- 
dered silk robe that Emma Lu 
had purchased in San Francisco. 

"Oh, let me hold him!" Mar- 
garet exclaimed, reaching for him. 
"Precious!'' she murmured when 
Millie placed him in her arms. 
"Too precious for words!" 

Millie looked at Tutu who was 
busy at her work table making 
a fresh supply of poi. 

"Tutu," she said, in her silken 
voice, "it's my day to read to the 
blind . . . and here I am without 
a baby sitter. Could you . . . ?" 

Tutu shook her head. "I am 
sorry, Millie. Today, Luana takes 
me to the doctor. I'd be glad to 
do it any other time." 

"Oh, Millie — let me!" Mar- 
garet called out in her gay voice. 
"Emma Lu will be here, too. 
We'll take good care of him." 

"I'd be so grateful," Millie 
said. "It's the first time I've been 
anywhere since he was bom. 
Mike said I could stop at the 
shops and buy something new." 
Her eyes were black stars. "I'll 
bring his formula." 

"Run along," Luana laughed. 
"Have a happy day, your baby 
is in good hands, Millie." 

It was after three o'clock before 
Luana and Tutu started for Dr. 
Hartford's office in the second- 



hand convertible. They had nick- 
named the car "Old Jig-Saw/* 
because Phil said it was a puzzle 
which way it was going to move 
— forward, or up and down. 

"Time just slipped by," Luana 
told Tutu as they jogged along 
the highway. "But it was such 
fun! When there is a baby in the 
house, he is the center of every- 

Tutu laughed softly. "The 
little king had us all bowing to 
him," she said, "even Margaret. 
She never let go of him." 

Luana drew a long tremulous 

"Speaking of Margaret," she 
said, "she has chosen the place 
for her painting . . . ." Her voice 
faltered. ". . . My lagoon, Tutu." 

Silence hung between them. 
Luana kept her eyes on the high- 

"I know," Tutu said at last. 
"She showed me her painting this 
morning. She must have worked 
all night and many nights be- 

"I saw her," Luana said in a 
fierce, tight little voice. "My 
lagoon! Tutu — I can't bear it!" 

Tutu's arm was tender and 
warm around her shoulders. 

"She has an artist's eye, too," 
she said gently. "It was inevitable 
that she would paint the lagoon 
once she had seen it. But take 
heart, my Luana," she added 
consolingly. "Although her paint- 
ing has the touch of the profes- 
sional, more perfection of line 
and perspective than yours has, 
still yours has a freshness and 
feeling that some professionals 
have forgotten — qualities that 

win prizes. If I were a judge, I 
would give yours the prize, Lu- 
ana. Margaret's painting has a 
yearning quality — a searching 
— but yours has fulfillment, like 
a woman who has known every 
rich gift of Hfe." 

"Thank you, Tutu," Luana 
murmured. "I need to win that 
money so very much. And I think 
a painting of that lagoon will 

"Yes," Tutu conceded, in her 
thoughtful way. "A painting of 
that lagoon has a good chance to 

Dr. Hartford was a large, hearty 
man who radiated hope and cour- 
age to all his patients. After 
examining Tutu, he beamed down 
at her. 

"So you went on a hill slide 
Saturday," he said. "Well, it gave 
your heart a healthy bounce. 
Now, remember, I'm not recom- 
mending this for my heart pa- 
tients, but for you it was very 
good. You're better than you 
have been for sometime. What 
could have done it besides that 

Tutu's blue eyes twinkled into 
his. "I have much to live for, Dr. 
Hartford. My work is not yet 
finished here." 

"You are a real trooper!" he 
said, patting her shoulder. 
"Hawaii has won her Statehood 
through such characters as you 
and your family. I remember 
your husband, John Benjamin 
Harrington. A man of spirit and 
courage. He was devoted to 

"Yes," she said. "I wish he 



could have lived until Statehood 
was achieved. He worked for 

Dr. Hartford looked at Luana 
who was standing by them. His 
eyes narrowed, quizzically. 

"I wish I could say you look 
as perky as your Tutu. But you 
seem a bit languid to me. I want 
to check you over right now." 

On the way home in the late 
afternoon, Tutu leaned against 
Luana's shoulder and slept as 
peacefully as a child. Luana did 
not awaken her until they turned 
into the plantation lane. She 
stopped the car a block from the 
house and parked it beneath a 
leafy banyan tree. The sun was 
coral and gold through its 

"Tutu," she said softly, as 
Tutu opened her eyes and sat 
up. 'T have sometjiing to tell you 
— something almost too wonder- 
ful to talk about." 

"I know, my darling," Tutu's 
voice was a hushed lullaby. "I 
saw the light in your eyes when 
you came from Dr. Hartford's 
private office. I saw the glory in 
your smile as though the wind 
had kissed you." 

''A baby . . . ." Luana whis- 
pered, "another baby to love and 
care for. What a heavenly bless- 
ing to have a baby when you are 

"God's blessing," Tutu an- 
sv^ered. "Now when Emma Lu is 
married and goes to the Main- 
land to make her home, and 
Philip leaves for New Zealand, 
we will have our new baby to 
plan for. I must live a long time 

now, Luana, to help you and 

Luana's breath was a sigh of 

"My darling Ben," she said, 
"what another baby will mean 
to him, joy beyond words!" 

"The sun reddens," Tutu re- 
minded her, "almost dinnertime." 

Dreamily Luana started the 
car, and they rode home in quiet 

"I will change my dress and 
help you," Tutu said, as they 
hurried down the hallway toward 
their bedrooms. 

Hearing voices in Emma Lu's 
room, they hesitated near the 
half-open doorway. Someone was 
sobbing. Margaret's voice came 

"Oh, Emma Lu, having Millie's 
baby today brought it all back 

— all the yearning for a baby of 
my own. I would give anything 

— anything — for a baby . . . ." 
Luana leaned against the door 

frame. She felt weak and sick 
all over. Tutu did not move or 

"I paint so much and so des- 
perately," Margaret went on. "I 
give all my creative urge to my 
art, because I have nothing else. 
I know that is the reason our 
Heavenly Father has helped me 
to be successful. Oh, I realize 
that creating art or music or 
beautiful writing is God's gift to 
us, too, but motherhood is the 
greatest gift. Mothers are co- 
creators with God. Oh, Emma Lu, 
no one knows how I long for a 
baby of my own." 

Luana looked at Tutu. Their 
eyes met and lingered with tears 



of compassion. Then each went 
quietly to her own room and 
closed the door. Margaret must 
never know that they had heard 
her bare her heart to Emma Lu. 

Dinner at the Harrington's was 
always a gay affair. Luana, with 
a little pang, could see that Mar- 
garet was trying to be extra gay. 
Her voice was too high, her smile 
too tremulous. 

Emma Lu, Pixie, and Philip 
had gone to a Mutual party at 
the meetinghouse, but the rest 
of them lingered at the dinner 
table with an extra helping of 
Tutu's date tarts. 

''I think I'll learn the hula 
while I'm in Hawaii," Margaret 
said. 'That will surprise Tom 
when he comes for me." 

''Try to hula with bamboo 
sticks," Benjy said. "You can 
beat the rhythm that way." 

"Or a feather gourd," Bo told 
her. "They rattle. We'll show 
you. Aunt Margaret." 

"You darlings!" She smiled at 
them. "Taking time out to teach 
your aunt. But everyone on the 
Mainland will expect me to talk 
about the fun in Hawaii." 

Ben leaned back in his chair, 
folding his arms across his chest. 

"Margaret," he said, "forgive 
me if I say this again. Tell the 
folks on the Mainland that we 
don't play all the time in Hawaii. 
I want to show you the fields of 
sugar cane and the refineries that 
employ thousands of workers. 
There are towns built by the big 
corporations who own the pine 
and sugar industries. You must 
see the coastal villages and the 

fishing canneries. We have huge 
farms of wheat and grain and 
cattle ranches that equal any- 
thing in Texas." 

"We have cowboys," Benjy 
told her. "They're like real cow- 
boys anywhere, only they wear 
leis of feathers around their hats. 
Bo and I saw them, didn't we, 

"Yes, son," Ben answered. "We 
must take Aunt Margaret to the 
out-of-the-way places where men 
like old Hamana still make ca- 
noes from koa wood." 

"And he carves ornaments, 
too," Bo chimed in. 

"He does indeed," Ben nod- 
ded. "Especially when he finds a 
piece of sandalwood, which is 
mighty scarce these days." 

Ben's eyes smiled into hers. 
"What I'm trying to say is 
this, Margaret. The real people 
of Hawaii, like the real people 
anywhere in the world, are busy, 
ambitious people, with a purpose 
in life. It is generally the visitor 
who plays all the time. The rest 
of us are too busy earning a liv- 
ing and helping our fellow men. 
The hula, the ukulele, and 
surf-riding are all a part of our 
recreation, but they are not 
everything, as some of the Main- 
landers think they are." 

"Ben is right," Tutu said, look- 
ing at Margaret. "There is much 
work to do in Hawaii. I've been 
wondering if you would like to 
go with me tomorrow to the 
island of Molokai?" 

Margaret wet her lips. Then 
she lifted her head, smiling at 



Tutu. "Well — yes. Yes, I would, 

"There is a little boy there I 
want you to see," Tutu went on, 
casually. "You are such a fine 
artist, I am sure you will ap- 
preciate him. He is a three-year- 
old Haole boy, and he has the 
most beautifully formed face I 
have ever seen. The bone struc- 
ture is perfect. His eyes have an 
expression no one can forget. A 
portrait of him could be a master- 
piece, Margaret." 

"Oh, I'd love to see him," Mar- 
garet said. "IVe been searching 
for a subject for a portrait." 

"He is an orphan," Tutu ex- 
plained. "Some of his relatives 
have taken care of him smce his 
parents were killed, fishing on 
the shark coast." 

"His name is Joa," Benjy said. 
"Tutu says he can sing already." 

Luana pretended to eat her 
tart. She knew Tutu was trying 
to help Margaret, by interesting 
her in little Joa. Luana's heart 
quickened. Some way, somehow, 
she, too, must help Margaret. 

After family prayers together, 
Luana went from one room to 
another, as she always did, to 
say goodnight to each of her 

Pixie was seated at her cre- 
tonne-skirted dressing table 
brushing her short, clipped hair. 

"It's growing. Mama, look! I 
like it cut off this way — it's al- 
most curly." 

"It is!" Luana agreed. "You're 
so cute with it short." 

Pixie's face sobered. "Mama — 
have you noticed — my teeth are 

straighter? I don't need braces 
— really. Remember what Dr. 
Williamson said when you first 
took me to him — that once in 
a blue moon teeth like mine 
adjust themselves? Maybe I've 
found the blue moon — anyway 
I'm not afraid to smile anymore." 

Luana looked at her quizzical- 
ly. Her teeth were straighter — 
almost pretty when she smiled. 

"All the girls like my hair," 
Pixie went on. "I'm glad now 
that Daddy made me cut if off, 
and had it fixed my natural 

"I'm glad, too," Luana mur- 
mured, kissing her fresh young 
cheek. "Sweet dreams, dear." 

Benjy and Bo, in their twin 
beds, were whispering together 
as she entered their room. 

"Hello!" Benjy said, Hfting his 
face for her kiss. "Bo says that 
now we're thirteen we should 
earn money after school, so we 
can help Phil on his mission. We 
could work in the pine cannery." 

Luana sat down beside Bo. She 
always tried to share her atten- 
tion equally between them, but 
Benjy was more openly demon- 
strative than Bo. Kisses to Benjy 
were as natural as breathing, but 
they were very special to Bo. 

"Phil would appreciate that," 
she said. "Then, when it's your 
turn for a mission, he can help 
you. But your Daddy must be 
the one to decide what jobs 
would be best. Remember you 
have your daily work to do for 
him here, on the plantation." 

"Sure," Bo agreed. "Our Daddy 
knows about everything." 

Luana nodded. "He knows 



everything that is best for all of against the wall and let the tears 

us. He is very wise and very good, break through. Her heart was 

Now shall we go to sleep?" brimming over. Now that their 

Benjy's eyes were closed. He children were growing up, they 

was already asleep, but Bo was were reflecting the love that had 

still awake. He touched her always governed their home, 

cheek. Luana held her breath, They were willing to sacrifice for 

waiting. her and Ben and for each other. 

"Mama ..." his voice was so Sacrifice was the test of real love, 

low she bent her head to hear Luana bit her lip. How much 

him. "I don't want to worry you did she love Tom, her only 

— I want you to love me — the brother, and Margaret, his wife? 

way . . . ." How much was she willing to 

"I do love you. Bo!" Luana prove her love? Was she as noble 

held him in her arms. "You are as she had taught her children 

heart of my heart — my son." to be? 

He sighed gently against her The question hung in the air 

breast. She did not let him go for a long, breathless moment, 

until he fell asleep. Then she lifted her head and 

Walking thoughtfully to Emma walked resolutely to Tutu's bed- 

Lu's room, she wondered if Bo room. The blinds were drawn, 

had ever felt slighted. She must The room was dark. Tutu slept 

be careful to share her love equal- soundly. Luana went quietly to 

ly. the closet for her painting and 

carried it to her own room. 

Emma Lu was standing by the Ben was in his big, comfortable 

window gazing dreamily at the chair reading the evening paper, 

big white moon. Luana unwrapped the painting 

"Come in, Mama," she said, and placed it upright on a chair 

without turning her head. "I've before him, turning the light so 

been thinking. I don't need a big it flooded over its rich coloring, 

fancy wedding reception. I want ''So that was the reason!" he 

a quiet affair here in our own said. His eyes were luminous. "I 

garden. Phil needs the money for wondered when you would show 

his mission. Please — Mama." it to me." 

Tears stung Luana's eyes. She "You knew?" she asked in- 

did not want Emma Lu to see credulously, 
her cry. She always kept her 

tears inside where no one could He pulled her gently beside him. 

see them, the way Bo did. "You were out there on the 

"We'll think about it," she an- beach of our lagoon night after 
swered. "A garden reception night. I knew you weren't fishing 
could be very pretty. We'll talk or swimming or getting moon- 
about it in the morning. Good- struck. Not my Luana. It had 
night, now." to be something worthwhile. I 

Back in the hallway, she leaned guessed it was this. No doubt 



you will send it to the McDougal 

With a little sigh, Luana 
pressed her head against his 
shoulder. She told him about 
Margaret and her painting, and 
how she and Tutu had heard her 
heartbreaking talk with Emma 
Lu. Then she told him how the 
children were willing to sacrifice 
for each other, and she felt that 
she should sacrifice for Margaret 
because she truly loved her. 

"I want to help her, darling. 
So I have decided not to send 
my painting to the contest. Now, 
I can really say that I hope she 
wins it." 

Ben's hands were firm on her 
shoulders as he turned her so that 
his wise, unflinching eyes looked 
steadily into hers. 

''You have your values crossed, 
my darling," he said. "This 
sounds like a very noble sacrifice 
on your part, but I do not ap- 
prove of it. No one should sacri- 
fice his ability to create. We be- 
lieve in using and making the 
best of our God-given talents. 
You should not sacrifice it for 
Margaret or anyone else. I know 
you love your brother and his 
wife, and that you are deeply 
compassionate because they have 
no children. I am, too. But there 
is always the dangei that a sacri- 
fice of the kind you suggest will 
not only destroy your own efforts 
to be successful, but it might 
weaken the very person you are 
trying to help. You have done a 
magnificent job — I say you 
should enter it in the contest." 

His eyes crinkled. "It might be 

that neither of you will win. Who 
knows? The important thing is 
to realize that neither your real 
happiness nor Margaret's de- 
pends on that contest. There are 
better ways for you to help Mar- 
garet. If you keep your painting 
out of the contest, you might go 
through life thinking you could 
have won. You might get a com- 
plex about it. Margaret has won 
many contests. That isn't what 
she really needs. Tutu has found 
the right way to make her help 
herself. A child to care for and 
sacrifice for is what she and Tom 
really need. Let's hope they take 
the little boy." 

Luana met her husband's eyes 
in a long, lingering look of love 
and understanding. Ben was posi- 
tive and strong, but full of gentle- 

"You are right," she said. "I 
will mail my painting tomorrow." 

"You should," he said. "That 
painting is a miracle." 

Luana was smiling as her hps 
touched his cheek. 

"A miracle," she whispered. "I 
have a greater miracle to tell you 
about. The greatest miracle in 
the world. Another baby — for 

She felt him breathe deeply, 
and his hand smoothed her dark 

"My wife," he said, tenderly, 
"my Luana. Bless you, my dar- 
ling. I feel humble and yet so 
proud. I could touch the stars." 

"I know," she murmured. "We 
have always touched the stars — 




General Secretaiy-Treasurer Hulda. Parker 

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 January 1958, page 47, and 
in the Relief Society Handboolc of instructions. 



Glendale Stake (California) Visiting Teochers Representing Many Lands at Inter-Faith 

Friendship Festival 

April 26, 1963 

Edna A. Beal, President, Glendale Stake Relief Society, reports a success- 
ful and spiritually rewarding "Friendship Social," in which the visiting teach- 
ers, many of them representing their native lands, were dressed in authentic 

"Our Education Counselor Leah Frandsen wrote the script for the pro- 
gram. We had nearly 400 nonmembers present, representing thirty-five re- 
ligious faiths. It is interesting to know just how many different religions there 
are and how many women can be touched through our inter-faith socials." 



Columbus Stake (Ohio) Singinc ~ ?sent Music for Quarterly Conference 

May ]2, 1963 

Standing at the left in the front row, Geraldine Twitty, chorister, and 
next to Sister Twitty, is Genevieve Johnson, President of the Columbus Second 
Ward Relief Society, who served as organist; Alice L. Wilkinson, member of 
the General Board of Relief Society, stands at the right in the front row, and 
Farel Rush, President, Columbus Stake Relief Society, stands at the right 
in the second row. 

Sister Rush reports that this occasion marked the first stake performance 
of this group of Singing Mothers. Five ward Relief Society presidents and 
four stake board members, in addition to Sister Rush, are represented in the 

Denver West Stoke (Colorado) Inter- Faith Social and Fashion Show 

June 4, 1963 

Front row, seated, left to right: Laura Cutler, Second Counselor, in charge 
of the social science presentation; Mollie Richardson, First Counselor, in charge 
of the fashion show; President Russell C. Taylor of Denver West Stake Presi- 
dency; Delia H. Teeter, President, Denver West Stake Relief Society. 

Sister Teeter reports: "On June 4, 1963, Denver West Stake held an 
inter-faith meeting and fashion show, with the theme 'A Woman's World.' 
The social science presentation of 'God So Loved the World' was portrayed 
with the stake Singing Mothers furnishing the music. The chorus was directed 
by Leah Greenberg, with Sally Guillian as accompanist, Betty Butterworth as 
vocal solist, and Ivagene Thompson as violin soloist. Addresses were given 
by Sister Teeter and President Taylor. The fashion show, with seventy-two 
participants, was an end result of a basic sewing course conducted by the stake 
Relief Society under the leadership of Elma Walker. There were approxi- 
mately 300 present, including known representatives from forty-six other 
churches. We enjoyed a delightful social hour in the cultural hall, with displays 
of the four lessons by stake class leaders." 

Redondo Stake (California) Sinaina Mothers Present Music for Various Stake Activities^ 

April 28, 1963 

Front row, left to right: Lynne Despain, organist; LeDeane Cobabe, 
chorister; Ruth Witty, President, Redondo Stake Relief Society; Jena West- 
over, First Counselor; Doris Phillips, Second Counselor; Irene Buehner, mem- 
ber, General Board of Relief Society; Norma Nichols, of the General Board 
of the Primary Association. 

Sister Witty reports that the Redondo Stake Singing Mothers have pre- 
sented the music for many occasions, including a fashion show in cooperation 
with the Mutual Improvement Association, the visiting teacher convention, 
and closing social, April 19, 1963, and stake quarterly conference April 28, 1963. 
The above photograph was taken immediately following stake conference. 





T ■' 



f]»i I 


Orem Stake 

Utah), Orem Seventh Ward Presents "Relief Society Hall of Fame" 
Commemorating the Birthday of Relief Society 

March 13, 1963 

Left to right: First Counselor LaRee H. Brough as Emma H. Smith; Bella 
Evans as Eliza R. Snow; Minnie E. Hill as Zina D. H. Young; Marilyn Van 
Leuvin as Bethsheba Smith; Lola Wilberg as Emmeline B. Wells; Mable Wil- 
liamson as Clarissa S. Williams; Karilin Robb as Louise Y. Robison; Second 
Counselor Emma S. Nicholes as Amy Brown Ljrman; Ward Relief Society 
President Vanza J. Ekins (in frame at the right) acted as narrator and created 
the presentation of the program "Relief Society Hall of Fame," and represents 
President Belle S. Spafford. 

Bertha J. Kirk, President, Orem Stake Relief Society, reports: "Each 
sister was framed in portrait fashion. Background music was furnished during 
the narration and introduction of each president. Songs which were composed 
by our early presidents were sung by a small group of Singing Mothers, which 
added to the spiritual atmosphere of the program. Each sister wrote her own 
biography of the president she portrayed, and expressed the pleasure and 
testimony she gained from doing so. A beautiful birthday cake and punch 
were served to the many sisters in attendance. Special invitations were sent 
to all the sisters in the ward, and many who had never attended Relief Society 
came to the social. We feel that everyone received a faith-promoting intro- 
duction to the origin and growth of Relief Society." 




Valley View Stake (Salt Lake City, Utah) Relief Society Presents "Music In Relief Society" 

As a Theme ^c- "friendship Day" 

May 24, 1963 

Grouped around a table depicting the part music plays in Relief Society, 
left to right: Wylene Fotheringham, Work Director Counselor; Lucy Perry, 
Education Counselor; Elaine Jack, literature class leader; Lois Oswald, Presi- 
dent; Eileen Sherren, organist; Eula Romney, work meeting leader; Beulah 
Rose, social science class leader; Dorie Walton, Magazine representative. 

Sister Oswald reports: "All the sisters of our stake — members and non- 
members — were invited to attend our 'Friendship Day' on May 24th, The 
stake board set up display tables depicting each phase of Relief Society work, 
and each ward had a table displaying articles that had been made at their 
work meetings during the year. A lovely fashion show was presented. Most 
of the clothing, modeled by mothers, children, and teenagers, was made in 
basic sewing classes held in each ward during the year. A very clever narration, 
written by Work Director Counselor Wylene Fotheringham, and read by 
literature class leader Elaine Jack, presented the theme 'Seams Like Old 
Times,' which added greatly to the presentation. There were many in at- 
tendance who are not regular Relief Society members. They seemed to enjoy 
the affair very much, and we are hopeful that this 'Friendship Day' will con- 
tinue to stimulate and add interest in our Relief Society program for the 
coming year." 



Tulsa Stake 

Left to right, stake board members: Beth Peterson, chorister; Jean Green, 
theology class leader; Marian Asay, Second Counselor; Virginia Jacobson, 
President; Mary A. Robison, First Counselor; Mildred Duckworth, Secretary- 
Treasurer; Leola Christensen, social science class leader; Naydeen Sandmire, 
visiting teacher message leader; Maryalice Stewart, literature class leader; 
Beverly Johnson, Magazine representative. 

Sister Jacobson reports: "Over 160 women attended this social, about one- 
third of whom were nonmembers, from a wide variety of churches. Work items 
from the various wards and branches were on display. We also had an excellent 
display of the Magazine, as well as a display of the uses of whole wheat. Guests 
were asked to sign the guest book and to wear name tags. 

"A skit presenting the opportunties to be found in Relief Society was pre- 
sented, followed by a presentation of 'My Testimony' by the stake Singing 
Mothers. The program was concluded with a fashion show of fashions made 
and modeled by members of Relief Society or their children. During the serv- 
ing of refreshments, door prizes were awarded. The prizes consisted of home- 
baked items, as well as home-sewed items. The cultural hall was beautifully 
decorated, with a flower-draped archway through which the guests entered." 



■.vesv ;■;■■.;.■: ^_:^:' ..CuSii! :;i:>ging Morners rresent ...__._ tor Many Occasions 

Seated in the front row, left to right: Relia C. Smith, Education Counselor; 
Afton A. Ellison, President; Elna B. Johnson, Work Director Counselor; Irene 
R. Nielsen, Secretary-Treasurer; standing at the left, in front, chorister LaRue 
R. Campbell; seated at the organ, accompanist Karma R. Echols. 

Sister Ellison reports: "Many opportunities have been given our stake 
Singing Mothers chorus this year, with each ward participating to make each 
occasion inspirational. In April we were privileged to sing at stake quarterly 
conference, when President Hugh B. Brown and Sister Brown, Sister Elsa 
T. Peterson of the General Board of Relief Society, and Sister Amy Casto, 
of the General Board of the Primary Association were the speakers. 

"At our stake Friendship Day over 500 were in attendance, with twelve 
other religions being represented. The opening part of our afternoon social 
was the beautiful music from our Singing Mothers chorus, being followed by 
displays in the cultural hall from work departments, lesson departments. Maga- 
zine displays, and the food and recipe table. Refreshments were served. Many 
favorable comments were given, especially from nonmembers. We were asked 
to furnish the assembly music for the Brigham Young University Education 
Week here this summer, and again felt the thrill that comes from the group 
participation and the blending of the voices of the sisters in our stake. We 
feel strength and unity throughout the stake from the opportunities that come 
to us through our Singing Mothers." 



THEOLOGY • The Doctiine and Covenants 

Lesson 56 — The Book of Revelation 

Elder Roy W. Doxey 

(Text: Doctrine and Covenants, Section 77) 
For First Meeting, May 1964 

Objective: To glean important items of instruction of revealed latter-day knowledge 
from the revelation given to John the apostle on Patmos. 


One of the Bible books little 
understood is the Book of Revela- 
tion in the New Testament. Great 
numbers of books have been written 
attempting to explain its symbols. 
While the Prophet was revising the 
Bible with the aid of Sidney Rigdon 
as scribe, the Lord revealed the 
meaning of some difficult passages 
in that book. Although^ on one 
occasion Joseph Smith said the 
Book of Revelation was one of the 
plainest books that God caused to 
be written [DHC ¥1342), he in- 
cluded some comments in Section 
77 of the Doctrine and Covenants 
on certain passages in eight of the 
twenty-two chapters of that book. 

General Information 

The Book of Revelation is also 
known as the Apocalypse, a Greek 
word meaning to reveal the future. 
The author, John the apostle, de- 
scribes this revelation as telling of 
''things which must shortly come 
to pass" (Rev. 1:1; see also Rev. 1: 
19; 4 : 1 . ) The Revelation is addressed 
to seven churches of the Roman 

province of Asia : Ephesus, Smyrna, 
Pergamum, Thyatira, Sardis, Phila- 
delphia, and Laodicea. (Rev. 1:4, 
11.) John relates that the visions 
of the book were received when he 
was on the island of Patmos, which 
lies off the southwest coast of Asia 
Minor. At this time the apostle had 
been banished during a period of 
Roman persecution against the 

Latter-day Saint writers have gen- 
erally interpreted the seven 
churches, to whom the Revelation is 
specifically addressed because of 
their spiritual condition, as the re- 
maining branches of the Church 
which were worthy of revelation; for 
the Church at large had gone into a 
state of apostasy. Elder James E. 
Talmage writes on this point, as 
follows : 

During the banishment of John the 
Revelator on the isle of Patmos, when 
nearly all the apostles had been taken 
from the earth, many of them having 
suffered martyrdom, the apostasy was so 
wide-spread that only seven "churches," 
i.e. branches of the Church, remained in 
such condition as to be considered deserv- 



ing of the special communication John was 
instructed to give. In a marvelous vision 
he beheld the seven churches typified by 
seven golden candlesticks, with seven stars 
representing the presiding officers of the 
several churches, and in the midst of the 
golden candlesticks, with the stars in his 
hand, stood "one like unto the Son of 

The church at Ephesus was approved 
for its good works, specifically for its re- 
jection of the Nicolaitan heresies; never- 
theless reproof was administered for dis- 
affection and neglect, thus: — "thou 
hast left thy first love. Remember there- 
fore from whence thou art fallen, and 
repent and do the first works; or else I will 
come unto thee quickly, and will remove 
thy candlestick out of his place, except 
thou repent." [Rev. 2:4, 5.] 

To the church at Pergamos John was 
commanded to write, denouncing the false 
doctrines of certain sects and teachers, 
"which thing I hate" said the Lord. The 
church of the Laodiceans was denounced 
as "lukewarm," "neither hot nor cold," 
and as priding itself as rich and not in 
need, whereas it was in reality "wretched, 
and miserable, and poor, and blind, and 
naked." [Rev. 3:17.] 

The foregoing scriptures are ample as 
proof that even before the ancient apostles 
had finished their earthly ministry, apostasy 
was growing apace {The Great Apostasy, 
1953 edition, pp. 44-45). 

Section 77 — A Key to Interpretation 

The great confusion existing in 
the Christian world regarding the 
Book of Revelation is due to the 
loss of the key to interpret it. In 
an informative observation on this 
point, the Doctrine and Covenants 
Commentary (page 478) brings out 
that it will never be understood if 
one assumes that there has not been 
an apostasy and a restoration of the 
true Church. This authoritative 
source continues: 

But this Revelation [Section 77] is not a 
complete interpretation of the book. It 
is a key. A key is a very small part of the 

house. It unlocks the door through which 
an entrance may be gained, but after the 
key has been turned, the searcher for 
treasure must find it for himself. It is 
like entering a museum in which the 
students must find out for themselves 
what they desire to know. The sources 
of information are there. (Ibid.) 


The subject matter which follows 
is designed to point out many signif- 
icant truths from Section 77 which 
are not known to the world. It is 
not the purpose of this discussion 
to attempt an analysis of the entire 
Book of Revelation. Obviously the 
most important lessons to be learned 
are those which are founded upon 
the words of the prophets of this 

Repeatedly, the elders of the 
Church have been warned against 
delving into what are known as 
scriptural mysteries, meaning those 
things which the Lord has not 
clearly made known. Upon this 
point the Prophet Joseph Smith has 

I make this broad declaration, that 
whenever God gives a vision of an image, 
or beast, or figure of any kind. He always 
holds Himself responsible to give a reve- 
lation or interpretation of the meaning 
thereof, otherwise we are not responsible 
or accountable for our belief in it. Don't 
be afraid of being damned for not know- 
ing the meaning of a vision or figure, if 
God has not given a revelation or inter- 
pretation of the subject (DHC V:343). 

Again from- the Prophet: 

Oh, ye elders of Israel, barken to my 
voice; and when you are sent into the 
world to preach, tell those things you are 
sent to tell; preach and cry aloud, "Re- 
pent ye, for the kingdom of heaven is at 
hand; repent and believe the Gospel." 
Declare the first principles, and let mys- 
teries alone, lest ye be overthrown. Never 



meddle with the visions of beasts and sub- 
jects you do not understand [Ibid., page 


It is declared ''The Book of Reve- 
lation is one of the grandest books 
in sacred literature, and the Lord 
clearly designs that the Saints should 
become familiar with it. Else, why 
this Revelation in the Doctrine and 
Covenants?" {Doctiine and Cove- 
nants Commentary, page 478). 

The Earth 

Latter-day Saints believe that the 
creation of the earth was purposeful 
in that it was to be the home for 
man. In an earlier revelation, the 
Lord made known that marriage is 
designed to bring the spirit sons 
and daughters of God to earth where 
they may continue their eternal 
advancement. By doing so "the 
earth might answer the end of its 
creation" (D & C 49:16). 

In answer to the question: "What 
is the sea of glass?" of Revelation 
4:6, the Prophet answered that: "It 
is the earth, in its sanctified, im- 
mortal, and eternal state" {Ihid.j 
77:1). This will be the condition 
of the earth when final judgment has 
been rendered to its inhabitants, 
and it becomes the abiding place of 
celestial beings. In this condition 
another revelation declares that it 
will be as a Urim and Thummim to 
enable its occupants to know of 
kingdoms inferior to the celestial 
state. (D & C 130:9.) Before this 
time, however, the earth will die and 
undergo a change equivalent to 
the resurrection. [Ibid., 88:25-26.) 
These thoughts suggest a belief of 
the Latter-day Saint that the earth 
is a living organism. (Moses 7:48- 


There are three conditions of the earth 
spoken of in the inspired writings, — 
the present, in which everything pertaining 
to it must go through a change which 
we call death; the millennial condition, 
in which it will be sanctified for the resi- 
dence of purer intelligences, some mortal 
and some immortal; and the celestial 
condition, spoken of in the twenty-first 
and twenty-second chapters of Revelation, 
which will be one of immortality and 
eternal life (Talmage, James E.: Articles 
of Faith, page 517). 

Man and Animal 

In the second verse of Section 77 
a question is raised relative to the 
four beasts spoken of in Revelation 
4:6. (See Doctiine and Covenants 
Commentary, page 472 for further 
information.) After saying that 
these are figurative expressions to 
describe heaven, and the happiness 
of man, beasts, and the fowls of the 
air, the Prophet gives some light on 
the spirit of man and animal. A 
salient thought is expressed in the 
observation that the temporal has 
its spiritual counterpart. This gives 
background for the truth that "the 
spirit of man (is) in the likeness of 
his person, as also the spirit of the 
beast, and every other creature 
which God has created." As stated 
in an earlier lesson (Lesson 20, 
Relief Society Magazine, October 
1959), the truth is that not only 
spirit-man existed before mortal 
birth, but also the rest of God's 
creation, including vegetation, was 
spirit. (Moses 3:5.) As the First 
Presidency, composed of Presidents 
Joseph F. Smith, John R. Winder, 
and Anthon H. Lund, wrote: 

By His almighty power He organized 
the earth, and all that it contains, from 
spirit and element, which exist co-eter- 
nally with Himself. He formed every plant 
that grows, and every animal that breathes, 



each after its own kind, spiritually and 
temporally — "that which is spiritual 
being in the likeness of that which is 
temporal, and that which is temporal in 
the hkeness of that which is spiritual." 
(D & C 77:2.) He made the tadpole and 
the ape, the lion and the elephant; but 
He did not make them in His own image, 
nor endow them with Godlike reason and 
intelligence (Improvement Era, 13:81, No- 
vember 1909). 

This official statement denounces 
the theory that man has ascended 
from lower forms of animals as a 
doctrine that Latter-day Saints can- 
not accept. 

We are informed that ''the whole 
animal creation will be perfected 
and perpetuated in the Hereafter, 
each class in its 'distinct order or 
sphere/ and will enjoy 'eternal 
felicity/ That fact has been made 
plain in this dispensation" (First 
Presidency, Improvement Era, 13:81; 
D & C 77:3-4). This statement 
clearly affirms that animal and plant 
creation will be resurrected. (D & C 

Key to Histary 

It is plain that in verses 6 and 7 
of Section 77, concerning the book 
with its seven seals, which John saw, 
there is revealed the period of the 
earth's temporal existence since the 
fall of Adam. (Doctrine and Cove- 
nants Commentary, page 474.) 

If one determined the meaning of 
each of the figures symbolizing 
these seals, as the various horses, 
the martyrs, etc., mentioned in 
chapter 6 of the Book of Revelation, 
he would recognize the general sec- 
ular history of the earth. The pro- 
phetic history is revealed in chapters 
12 through 14, with miscellaneous 
information in the remaining part of 
the book. 

Saturday Night of Time 

Four angels are spoken of in Rev- 
elation 7:1 (D & C 77:8) that have 
power to save and to destroy life. 
President Joseph Fielding Smith 
observes that these four angels seem 
to fit the description of those men- 
tioned in the parable of the wheat 
and the tares, and he quotes Presi- 
dent Wilford Woodruff that these 
powers are already being manifest 
on the earth. Furthermore, these 
messengers are some who have the 
power of committing the gospel to 
the earth. (Smith, Joseph Fielding: 
Church History and Modern Revela- 
tion, Vol. I, 300-301.) 

In the twelfth verse of Section 77, 
the seven thousand years as time 
periods of the earth's mortality are 
again mentioned. Elder Orson F. 
Whitney has emphasized what many 
other Latter-day prophets have said 
concerning the period in which we 
live — these are the last days that 
are drawing near to the second com- 
ing of Christ. 

The symbolism of the Sabbath, and the 
symbolism of other days as well, is plainly 
indicated in the writings of Joseph Smith. 
In one place he says — or the Lord says 
through him: "All things have their 
likeness, and are made to bear record of 
me." We need not be surprised, therefore, 
to find among the Prophet's teachings this 
— I quote from his Key to the Apoca- 
lypse [77:6, 12]. 

"What are we to understand by the 
book which John saw, which was sealed 
on the back with seven seals? 

"We are to understand that it contains 
the revealed will, mysteries, and the works 
of God; the hidden things of his economy 
concerning this earth during the seven 
thousand years of its continuance, or its 
temporal existence. 

"What are we to understand by the 
sounding of the trumpets, mentioned in 
the 8th chapter of Revelation? 



"We are to understand that as God 
made the world in six days, aiid on the 
seventh day he finished his work, and 
sanctified it, and also formed man out of 
the dust of the earth, even so, in the 
beginning of the seventh thousand years 
will the Lord God sanctify the earth, 
and complete the salvation of man, and 
judge all things, and shall redeem all 
things, except that which he hath not 
put into his power, when he shall have 
sealed all things, unto the end of all things; 
and the sounding of the trumpets of the 
seven angels are the preparing and finishing 
of his work, in the beginning of the 
seventh thousand years — the preparing of 
the way before the time of his coming." 

The "days" here referred to were not 
ordinary days of twenty-four hours each, 
based upon earth's diurnal revolutions. He 
who "made the world" before placing man 
upon it, had not then appointed unto 
Adam His reckoning. [Abraham 5:13]. 
They were not man's days, but God's 
days, each having a duration of a thousand 

"The book which John saw" represented 
the real history of the world — what the 
eye of God has seen, what the recording 
angel has written; and the seven thousand 
years, corresponding to the seven seals of 
the Apocalyptic volume, are as seven great 
days during which Mother Earth will ful- 
fill her mortal mission, laboring six days 
and resting upon the seventh, her period 
of sanctification. These seven days do not 
include the period of our planet's creation 
and preparation as a dwelling place for 
man. TTiey are limited to Earth's "tem- 
poral existence," that is, to Time, con- 
sidered as distinct from Eternity. 

The Prophet's translation of the Book 
of Abraham explains that those greater 
days are "after the time" or according 
to the reckoning of Kolob, a mighty gov- 
erning planet nearest the Celestial Throne, 
a planet revolving once in a thousand 
years. [Abraham 3:4.] This period, then, 
is a day upon Kolob. . . . 

According to received chronology — 
admittedly imperfect, yet approximately 
correct — four thousand years, or four 
of the seven great days given to this planet 
as the period of its "temporal existence," 
had passed before Christ was crucified; 
while nearly two thousand years have gone 

by since. Consequently, Earth's long week 
is now drawing to a close, and we stand 
at the present moment in the Saturday 
Evening of Time, at or near the end of 
the sixth day of human history. Is it not a 
time for thought, a season for solemn 
meditation? Morning will break upon the 
Millennium, the thousand years of peace, 
the Sabbath of the World! (Saturday 
Night Thoughts, pp. 10-12.) 

Special Missionaries 

In verse ii of Section 77, we are 
told that there will be 144,000 high 
priests selected from the various 
tribes of Israel to administer the 
everlasting gospel for those who will 
come into the Church of the First- 
born. The Prophet Joseph Smith, in 
speaking of the salvation of the 
dead, said: 

I am going on in my progress for eternal 
life. It is not only necessary that you 
should be baptized for your dead, but you 
will have to go through all the ordinances 
for them, the same as you have gone 
through to save yourselves. There will be 
144,000 saviors on Mount Zion, and with 
them an innumerable host that no man 
can number. Oh! I beseech you to go 
forward, go forward and make your calling 
and your election sure {DHC VI: 365). 

Cleansing of the Earth 

That the Lord has on many occa- 
sions inspired his prophets to speak 
of our times and the future in con- 
nection with the cleansing of the 
earth is very well known. (D & C 
5:16-20; 43:18-29; 63:32-37.) The 
ninth chapter of the Book of Revel- 
ation (D & C 77:13) reveals some 
instruments of destruction that will 
cleanse the earth. Of these events 
President Joseph Fielding Smith has 
written : 

These terrible events pictured in the 
ninth chapter of Revelation are now being 
fulfilled. Part of this we have witnessed, 
the rest will shortly come to pass. This 



is, and will be, in the nature of the 
cleansing process to prepare the earth and 
its inhabitants, those who will be fortunate 
enough to remain, for the coming of our 
Savior when he shall commence his reign 
for a thousand years upon the earth. The 
reading of this chapter with the knowledge 
that the time of its fulfillment is at hand, 
should cause all men some thoughtful 
sober thinking (Church History and Mod- 
em Revelation, Vol I, page 303). 

John's Mission 

In Section 77, verse 14, we are 
told that the little book which was 
eaten by John, found in Revelation 
10:8-11, is interpreted to be a mis- 
sion for him to gather the tribes of 
Israel. This was the beginning of 
the new dispensation of the gospel 
after the period of apostasy. (Doc- 
trine and Covenants Commentary, 
pp. 476-477.) John the Revelator is 
presently engaged in this mission. 
In the conference of the Church of 
June 1831, it is related that: 

. . . The Spirit of the Lord fell upon 
Joseph in an unusual manner, and he 
prophesied that John the Revelator was 
then among the Ten Tribes of Israel who 
had been led away by Shalmaneser, king of 
Assyria, to prepare them for their return 
from their long dispersion, to again possess 

the land of their fathers {DHC 1:176, 

Two Witnesses 

The final verse in Section 77 re- 
fers to Revelation, chapter 11, where 
the two prophets raised up to the 
Jewish nation in the last days will 
have power to prevent the destruc- 
tion of the Jewish people by nations 
which have come up to battle 
against Jerusalem. In the process, 
however, these prophets will have 
been overcome themselves and then 
by the power of God restored to hfe. 
This episode yet to be enacted in 
the land of Jerusalem will be men- 
tioned again in a subsequent lesson. 

Questions for Discussion 

1. Give an example of the fact that the 
Book of Revelation tells of the period 
before John's time, as well as the 

2. Why did John address his revelation 
to the seven branches of the Church 
in Asia? 

3. What are the limitations of Section 
77 in understanding the Book of reve- 

4. What is meant by the "Saturday night 
of time," and what references to this 
meaning are found in the lesson? 

Frozen Splendor 

Gladys Hesser Burnham 

Snowflakes hang in frozen splendor 

Solid, dew-wet, jewels of fog. 

Every bush and tree is coated 

Weed and wire, tub and log; 

All transformed in lacy raiment 

Frosty touch of icy grace. 

Hushed and breathless, opaque curtain 

Hides the sun, her warm embrace. 


Truths to Live By From the Doctrine and Covenants 

Message 56 — "And Ye Shall Bear Record of Me, Even Jesus Christ, That 
I Am the Son of the Living God" (D & C 68:6). 

Chiistine H. Robinson 

For First Meeting, May 1964 

Objective: To emphasize the fact that a testimony of Jesus Christ, as the Son of the 
living God, is the most important need in the world today. 

On one occasion when Jesus was are not only the most effective but 
visiting a city known as Caesarea the only genuine guide we have in 
Philippi, in the north, he asked his this modern, complicated life, 
disciples who men said that he was. When the impressive buildings 
His disciples answered that some which now constitute Radio Center 
believed he was John the Baptist, were built in the heart of Man- 
some Elias, and others Jeremias or hattan, New York, a wise architect 
one of the other ancient prophets, inscribed on the walls of the main 
Then Jesus inquired of his disciples building the following, "Man's ulti- 
who they thought he was. Simon mate destiny depends not on wheth- 
Peter answered and said, "Thou art er he can learn new lessons or make 
the Christ, the Son of the living new discoveries, or new conquests, 
God" (Matt. 16:16). but upon his acceptance of the les- 
During his ministry upon this sons taught him close upon 2,000 
earth, the Savior knew that if his years ago." 

teachings were to endure and to be Today we are experiencing earth- 
effective in the lives of his disciples shaking developments and ac- 
they must know, beyond the shadow complishments in the sciences. We 
of a doubt, that he was the Christ, have created remarkable electronic 
the long-promised Messiah, the devices which serve and entertain 
Son of the living God. If this us. We are making marvelous 
testimony was important when the progress in exploring the secrets of 
Lord was living and teaching upon space and are even talking about 
the earth, it is just as important in visiting the moon. Yet, none of 
our lives today. Not being blessed these accomplishments or conquests 
with the personal presence of our will help us solve our basic human 
Lord to counsel and guide us, we problems, nor will they help us in 
must live by faith, knowing that any way to gain eternal salvation, 
his spirit can be with us, if we seek unless we can bear record to the 
it, and knowing that his teachings conviction that Jesus is the Christ, 



that he Hved, died, and was resur- God, or whether I speak of my- 

rected for our salvation and exalta- self (John 7:17). 
tion. Only through this testimony We can also strengthen our testi- 

and through a willingness to follow monies both by listening to the 

his teachings can we secure peace testimonies of others and by bearing 

of mind, true happiness, peace upon record ourselves. We should bear 

this earth, and joy in the world to this record whenever it is appropri- 

come. ate, to our families, to our friends. 

Since the restoration of the gos- and in testimony meetings. More- 
pel in these latter days our Church over, when we partake of the sacra- 
leaders have borne countless personal ment worthily, and with singleness 
testimonies to Christ's reality as the of heart, we bear solemn record to 
Son of God and have counseled us the Lord, to ourselves, and to those 
to strengthen and bear record of assembled that we 'are willing to 
our own testimonies. As one take upon [us] the name of thy Son, 
example of these powerful testi- and always remember him, and keep 
monies from our Church leaders, his commandments. . . ." When 
President McKay bears this record, we partake of the sacrament we 
''With my whole soul I accept Jesus should concentrate on thoughts of 
Christ as the Savior and Redeemer the Savior and on the blessings our 
of mankind. Accepting him as my testimony of him brings us. 
Redeemer, Savior, ' Lord, it is but Through strengthening our testi- 
logical that I accept his gospel as j^o^y and bearing record of it we 
the plan of salvation, as the one ^an say with the ancient prophet 
perfect way to happiness and j^b, ''I know that my redeemer 
peace" (The Instructor, 99:161, li^eth" (Job 19:25). As expressed 
June 1957) . in the beautiful hymn, what joy and 

As members of his restored comfort this conviction brings. Pres- 

Church we have a solemn obligation i^ent Grant once said, 'There is no 

to build our individual testimonies joy in the world that equals the joy 

and to bear record to ourselves and ^f knowing in your heart that God 

to others that Jesus lives, that he is ji^es, that Jesus is the Christ" 

the son of the living God. How (Moments With the Prophets, page 

can we build this testimony? ^qj\ 

The best way to build and ^^ ^^^ ^^1^ -^ ^^^ Doctrine and 

strengthen our testimonies is to read Covenants if our testimonies and 
ot nim in the scriptures, learn his t i j r c • 

J . -I- .1 ATS 7 our lives bear record or our Savior 

commandments, live them. We t ^i • ^ ^ ■ 

have been told repeatedly that if we J^^^^ ^^'''^ ^^ ^^^^ ^^'' P^^"^^^^ 

do the things which the Lord tells ^^ ^he Lord, ''do not fear, for I the 

us, we will know for a certainty that Lord am with you, and will stand 

he is our Savior. Jesus said, "If any by you" (D & C 68:6). 
man will do his will, he shall know Surely no greater blessing can 

of the doctrine, whether it be of come to anyone. 



The Latter-day Saint Home 

(A Course Expected to Be Used by Wards and Branches at Work Meeting) 

Discussion 16 — Planning Family Recreation 

Dr. Virginia F. Cutler 

For Second Meeting, May 1964 

Objective: To plan family activities constructively that will bring refreshment of strength 
and spirits after toil. 

If it is true that ''all work and no 
play makes Jack a dull boy," and 
that ''all play and no work makes 
Jack a mere toy/' then Jack and his 
family might well find a course to 
follow that will avoid these ex- 
tremes. There are Jacks and Janes 
who never see the sunset, or hear 
the rolling in of the tide; nor enjoy 
the beauty of a flower, bird, or tree, 
nor have time for anything creative 
on their own. Of course, Jack and 
Jane must strive for academic excel- 
lence, if they are to survive in the 
twentieth century world. They must 
not be impoverished in experience 
if they are to understand the moral, 
social, aesthetic, and spiritual values 
that give real meaning and purpose 
to life and enrich the common cul- 

What educates most is the im- 
mediate experience of a child with- 
in each situation. Thus the familv 
educates and is the chief agency 
through which Jack and Jane may 
develop some balance in living. Ex- 
periences provided through creative 
activity in the home and through 
excursions, nature walks, and flying 

kites, or other family interests help 
keep the balance. 

One little Jack, aged five, and his 
family had an excursion to a cave 
where he learned about stalactites 
and stalagmites. He learned to say 
these tongue-twisters and bought a 
piece of polished stalactite which 
started his rock collection. He 
wanted to know what the rock was 
made of and what conditions in the 
cave produced it. Friends and rela- 
tives, noting his great interest in 
rocks, brought him specimens, and 
after a year there were so many 
rocks that it looked as if they would 
take over, and the family would 
have to move out. After this ex- 
perience, it is unlikely that Jack, 
now grown, would build a bomb 
shelter, but he is on the team to in- 
vestigate one's tolerance for carbon 
dioxide while in a submarine and is 
applying the findings to determine 
one' tolerance for carbon dioxide 
while in a space capsule. It is very 
likely that the family excursion to 
the cave and the follow-up activities 
had something to do with Jack's 
present interests. 



Another little Jack took to carving 
animals out of soap after a family 
excursion to a children's museum. 
Within a year there were soap ani- 
mals marching across the mantel 
and on every bookshelf, and enough 
soap shavings to do the family 
wash. The soap menagerie in- 
creased as nature walks introduced 
new subjects and the interest pro- 
gressed to the media of wood and 
clay. At age thirty, the Christmas 
present to the five children and his 
wife was a bust of each which had 
been molded in clay, then cast. 
This was a creative experience in 
which all six participated. 

A victim of polio was a paraplegic 
at age one. At forty-one he could 
look at his family with pride, and at 
his comfortable home and moun- 
tain cabin, and car that he could 
drive, and feel a great sense of ac- 
complishment in not owing anyone 
and being able to support himself 
and family. This remarkable 
achievement can be traced back to 
excursions with his father to the 
smelter to see the big time clock 
which his father repaired. He de- 
veloped a keen interest in clocks 
and watches and learned all the in- 
tricacies of the trade, enough to earn 
his livelihood. 

Where do ideas begin that help 
to make a life? Seeds are planted 
early, and what may seem to be 
casual, unimportant events may 
have ingredients for greatness, if 
pursued. Excursions, nature walks, 
visits to museums, and backyard 
picnics provide experiences for en- 

richment throughout life and should 
be part of the weekly schedule. The 
vacation in the mountains or at the 
seashore takes long-time planning 
and budgeting, but the happy mem- 
ories of such events bring dividends, 
year after year. 

Recreation, by definition, is ''re- 
freshment of strength and spirits 
after toil; diversion; play; to recre- 
ate." No better example of ''re- 
freshment of strength and spirits 
after toil" could be seen than fam- 
ilies of Thailand flying kites in the 
high wind. In most instances each 
family member helps to make his 
own kite. There are boy kites and 
girl kites, and large and small ones, 
each with its own distinctive pat- 
tern. All ages participate in the sheer 
joy of the majestic sky dance of the 
kites. They laugh and shout and sing 
as the wind blows through their hair 
and wraps their sarongs and paki- 
mas more tightly about them. After 
a day with the kites they can say 
Mai Pen =Rai (never mind) more 
easily as they meet problems and 
troubles along life's way. 

What is more precious than the 
memories of happy hours when 
mother and father, sons and daugh- 
ters, meet together to laugh and 
play and bring refreshment of 
strength and spirit, and a bond of 
family togetherness greater than 

What "recreative" activities do 
you share with your family week by 
week? And what are your plans for 
some soul-lifting days away from 
home in the year ahead? 



America's Literature 

The Last Hundred Years 

Lesson 48 — Carl Sandburg, American Folk Singer (1878- ) 

Elder Briant S. Jacobs 

(Textbook: America's Literature by James D. Hart and Clarence Gohdes 
Dryden Press, New York, pp. 850-854) 

For Third Meeting, May 1964 

Objective: To understand and enjoy Carl Sandburg's substantial contribution to the 
American tradition. 

It is altogether fitting that, of the 
multifarious voices out of the living 
past which have brought us to our- 
selves, it is Carl Sandburg's which 
is to be sounded last. Not one of 
America's greatest poets, he is never- 
theless one of her great lovers, here 
standing foremost in the 1960's with 
two of her great immortals who have 
most influenced his beliefs and his 
method, namely, Lincoln and Whit- 
man. Having worked as a common 
laborer, he is well aware of the com- 
monplace, while at the same time 
proud to be self-appointed singer to 
these, his own people. Timeless in 
their rugged integrity and blunder- 
ing strength, to him they are the 
world's best hope. As he wrote in 
1936, a period in the United States' 
history when a collective soul-search- 
ing and a profound self-appraisal 
were most needed: 

The people will live on. 
The learning and blundering people will 
live on. . . . 

Between the finite limitations of the five 

and the endless yearnings of man for the 

the people hold to the humdrum bidding 

of work and food 
while reaching out when it comes their 

for lights beyond the prison of the five 

for keepsakes lasting beyond any hunger 

or death. 

This reaching is alive. . . . 
The people know the salt of the sea 

and the strength of the winds 

lashing the corners of the earth. 
The people take the earth 

as a tomb of rest and a cradle of hone. 
Who else speaks for the Family of Man? 
They are in tune and step 

with constellations of universal law. 

In the darkness with a great bundle of 

grief the people march. 
In the night, and overhead a shovel of 

stars for keeps, the people march: 

"Where to? what next?" 
(From The People, Yes, by Carl Sand- 
burg, copyright 1936 by Harcourt, Brace 
& World, Inc. Reprinted by permission 
of the pubhshers. See text, pp. 853-854.) 

Sandburg's Life 

Charles Sandburg was born on a 
comhusk mattress in 1878 in Gales- 
burg, Illinois, the son of Swedish im- 



migrant parents. His father, who after the Spanish-American War 
could read with difficulty and who was declared he enlisted for eight 
signed his mortgage with ''X, his months, returning home to Gales- 
mark," worked for twenty-four years burg, "The Athens of the Corn 
as blacksmith's helper in the Chi- Belt," to work nights as a fireman 
cago, Burlington and Quincy shops, while attending Lombard College 
receiving six dollars a week for six for the next four years. He left with- 
ten-hour days except on Fourth of out a degree (though he has since 
July, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, received thirty-two honorary doc- 
no work, no pay. His father was a torates and two Pulitzer prizes), 
member of the Swedish Lutheran For eight more years after college 
Church and the Republican Party, he traveled about the Midwest, first 
but his real faith was in his hands; selling stereopticon projections, lat- 
with them he could make and do er as organizer for the Wisconsin 
wonders. "In a way he was superior Socialist Democratic Party, but 
to books," Carl remembers. His always scribbling bits of poetry, and 
mother, a gentle, peaceful soul, always being one with the working 
taught her son that "There are so classes, playing his guitar with them, 
many interesting things in life — and writing down for the first time 
wonders made by God for us to the folk songs they taught him. 
think about." Carl heard her mes- In 1908, when he was thirty, he 
sage, caught her spirit, claiming that married Lillian (Paula) Steichen, 
from his sixth year when his chubby Phi Beta Kappa graduate of the 
hands first learned to form the let- University of Chicago, sister of Ed- 
ters of the alphabet, he determined ward Steichen, today one of the 
to excel in words. world's greatest photographers. 
But what and how were the un- These two were major influences 
answered questions. At thirteen he upon his life. A third influence 
left the eighth grade to wander came through his association with 
about the raw Midwest vainly try- Philip Green Wright, Lombard's 
ing to find himself, as hobo, field professor of English, mathematics, 
hand, railroad laborer, painter, dish- astronomy, and • economics who 
washer, fireman, milkman — jobs sought to "stir us into action in 
which bored him' and made him order to see what would happen." 
even more restless. Yet from these Dominated by a strong social con- 
seven years before he entered Lom- sciousness, Wright formed a student 
bard College he gained his lifelong club for the discussion of current 
sympathy with the working classes, writings including those of Sand- 
revealed in such poems as "I Am burg, in whose talent he had great 
the People, the Mob," "Fish Crier," faith. In 1904 and 1905 Wright 
"Psalm of Those Who Go Forth published Sandburg's first three slim 
Before Daylight," and "Prayers of books. 

Steel." Such experiences also made From 1910 to 1912 Sandburg was 

him a militant supporter of William private secretary to Emil Seidel, 

Jennings Bryan, the common peo- Socialist mayor of Milwaukee, after 

pie's silver-tongued orator. The day which he moved to Chicago where 



he worked as a journalist for various 
Chicago papers. The appearance of 
his poem "Chicago" in 1914, cre- 
ated a sensation which launched his 
career as a poet. In 1933 he left his 
well-established position as editorial 
writer for the Chicago Daily News 
for a secluded new home in Har- 
bert, on the sand dunes of Lake 
Michigan. Here his shrewd, prac- 
tical, and understanding wife devot- 
ed her time to rearing their family 
of girls and a prize-winning goat 
herd which, in time of extreme 
need, would provide them milk and 
meat. Her greatest task, however, 
was to protect CarFs time from in- 
terruption while he continued his 
thirteen-year task of writing a bi- 
ography of Lincoln. His typewriter, 
placed on an orange crate in his 
attic work room, often banged away 
through most of the night. Abra- 
ham Lincoln: the War Years, ap- 
peared in four volumes in 1939, and 
in 1940 it was awarded the Pulitzer 

Having built their Harbert home 
on their solid conviction that a 
farmer never starves, the Sandburgs 
were aware even before the war's 
outbreak that they needed more 
room and a milder climate for their 
goats. In 1943, while on a trip to 
Florida, Paula and the girls found 
"Connemara," a white-columned 
home built by the Treasurer of the 
Confederacy, which commanded a 
magnificent view of the Smoky 
Mountains of North Carolina. Here 
they still live the peaceful, inde- 
pendent life, surrounded by 245 
acres of grazing and woodland. 

Sandburg, the People's Poet 

Carl Sandburg considers Walt 

Whitman's Leaves oi Grass to be 
one of the greatest contributions 
from the United States to the world 

While each poet has achieved a 
style and idiom uniquely his own, 
the resemblance between Whitman 
and Sandburg is little less than over- 
whelming, a debt which Sandburg 
would be proud to acknowledge, so 
great is his admiration for his prede- 
cessor. In its most casual tone and 
looseness of form his "free verse" 
(not poetry, maintains Sandburg) 
resembles Whitman's cadenced, un- 
rhymed lines. In treating subjects 
other poets shun; in constantly 
praising the supreme virtues to be 
found in common, everyday things 
and people; in emphasizing simplic- 
ity of diction and tone — in all these 
Sandburg is Whitman's disciple. 
But he does not merely copy him; 
instead he affirms the truth of Whit- 
man's beliefs pertaining to what a 
poet in, of, and for America should 
do and be and say. 

Though he has written millions 
of words since 1914, Sandburg has 
never surpassed the casual vitality 
and raw strength of the poem 
characterizing his home town, 
"Chicago." (See text, page 851.) 

His 'Tog" has the inevitable sim- 
plicity of great art, and reminds us 
that Sandburg wrote Early Moon 
(1930), a book of poems, and 
Rootabaga Stones (1922) for chil- 

The fog comes 
On little cat feet. 

It sits looking 
over habour and city 
on silent haunches 
and then moves on. 



(From Chicago Poems by Carl Sandburg. 
Copyright 1916 by Holt, Rinehart and 
Winston, Inc. Copyright renewed 1944 
by Carl Sandburg. Reprinted by permis- 
sion of Holt, Rinehart and Winston, Inc.) 

Sandburg's hatred for war is 
memorably understated with sub- 
dued irony in his ''Grass." (Places 
named were scenes of battles in the 
Napoleonic, Civil, and First World 
Wars.) How soon the past loses 
all identity as life goes on and new 
generations live indifferent and se- 
cure in their present patterns! 

Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and 

Shovel them under and let me work — 

I am the grass; I cover all. 
And pile them high at Gettysburg 
And pile them high at Ypres and Verdun. 
Shovel them under and let me work. 
Two years, ten years, and passengers ask 

the conductor: 

What place is this? 

Where are we now? 

I am the grass. 

Let me work. 

(From Cornhuskers, by Carl Sandburg. 
Copyright 1918 by Holt, Rinehart and 
Winston, Inc. Copyright renewed 1946 
by Carl Sandburg. Reprinted by permis- 
sion of Holt, Rinehart and Winston, Inc.) 

From first-hand knowledge he 
writes of farm life, labor gangs, fac- 
tories, city streets — over 675 pages 
in his Complete Poems (1950). 
And when he was interviewed in 
December 1961, at age eighty-three, 
he was currently working on three 
hundred poems, preparing them for 
eventual publication. Space forbids 
including "The Sins of Kalamazoo," 
a mystical haunting appraisal of the 
mass mediocrity and lack of vision 
which are a constant threat to de- 
mocracy, but its folk-wisdom, wry 
and unpredictable, justifies "May- 

Maybe he believes me, maybe not. 
Maybe I can marry him, maybe not. 
Maybe the wind on the prairie, 
The wind on the sea, maybe, 
Somebody somewhere, maybe, can tell. 
I will lay my head on his shoulder 
And when he asks me I will say yes, 

(From Good Morning, America, copyright 
1928, 1956 by Carl Sandburg. Reprint- 
ed by permission of Harcourt, Brace & 
World, Inc.) 

Space shortage alone forbids in- 
clusion of "A Couple," a tender 
definition of the "togetherness" 
which has ever been the mainstay 
of the American home, particularly 
when sharpened by the loneliness 
devout marriage partners know 
when the man's job takes him away 
from home. But one poem which 
cannot be omitted is "Worms and 
the Wind," as delightful yet as 
biting a satire on smugness as any 
American poet has produced. 

Worms would rather be worms. 

Ask a worm and he says, "Who knows 

what a worm knows?" 
Worms go down and up and over and 

Worms like tunnels. 
When worms talk they talk about the 

worm world. 
Worms like it in the dark. 
Neither the sun nor the moon interests 

a worm. 
Zigzag worms hate circle worms. 
Curve worms never trust square worms. 
Worms know what worms want. 
Slide worms are suspicious of crawl worms. 
One worm asks another, "How does your 

belly drag today?" 
The shape of a crooked worm satisfies a 

crooked worm. 
A straight worm says, "Why not be 

Worms tired of crawling begin to slither. 
Long worms slither farther than short 

Middle-sized worms say, "It is nice to be 

neither long nor short. "... 



Worms underground never hear the wind 
overground and sometimes they ask, 
"What is this wind we hear of?" 
(From Complete Poems, copyright, 1950, 
by Carl Sandburg. Reprinted by per- 
mission of Harcourt, Brace & W^orld, Inc. ) 

Sandburg, the People's Singer 

Even before 1920 Carl discovered 
that, while an audience loved listen- 
ing to him reading his poems, they 
loved him even more if he ended 
the evening by slinging his guitar 
over his shoulder and strumming 
his own accompaniment while he 
sang some of the folk ballads he 
had been collecting and memorizing 
since his early teens, and which he 
published in The American Song- 
bag (1927), republished by Broad- 
cast Music, Inc., as The New 
Amencan Songhag (i960). As any- 
one who has ever heard the deliber- 
ate, unique cadences and caressed, 
mellow tones of his spoken voice 
instantly recognizes, he has always 
loved music until he has made it a 
vital part of himself. 

Music is my way of resting. When I am 
tense and written-out, or when I am tired 
from walking, thirty minutes of playing 
and singing will work wonders for me. 
Why, it's my medicine. More people 
ought to know what making your own 
music can do for you (Etude, September 
1951;, page 42. Reprinted by permission 
of Theodore Presser Company). 

At home in "Connemara," North 
Carolina, he has a guitar case in 
almost every room, and spontane- 
ously bursts into a song, with or 
without guitar accompaniment, 
whenever the spirit moves him. 
While all poetry lives only when 
it is heard, Sandburg's poems are 
not entirely created, nor can the 
listener completely possess them, 

until Sandburg sounds them with- 
in himself into his unforgettable 
singing prose. Never have words 
been loved more tenderly, yet 
deeply, as he croons the overly 
sustained vowels, slowly enunciat- 
ing each syllable — soft, then loud 
— then quick, pause, slow and cli- 
max until he remakes our old, worn 
language into a fresh, original com- 
municative tool we have never 
known previously. 

Sandburg, the People's Biographer 

One of Carl Sandburg's central be- 
liefs is his firm conviction that our 
Nation's best hope lies in men with 
"free imaginations, bringing changes 
into a world resenting change." 
This credo he has built into his own 
life. No other major literary figure 
in the United States has achieved 
excellence in poetry, folk song, essay, 
novel, autobiography and biography. 
Change and continuing growth have 
been the pattern of his career, a 
growth not terminated at age eighty- 
three when he climaxed four years 
of research by writing most of the 
script for the movie The Greatest 
Story Evei Told. 

He first knew literary fame as a 
poet, and has ever remained one, 
but a poet of unique versatility, 
whose supreme accomplishment will 
probably prove to be his monu- 
mental biography of Abraham 
Lincoln, a book which only an 
American poet could write. 

During his Galesburg youth young 
Carl had known men who had 
fought for Lincoln and the Union. 
Lincoln and Douglas had debated 
in Galesburg, a memory reality 
within him which he could never 
ignore. Begun in the early 1920's 



as a story of Lincoln's life for chil- 
dren, Sandburg s six-volume biog- 
raphy has earned wide acceptance 
over the decades as the best, largest, 
deepest, and truest access our gen- 
eration has to our greatest American 
and the legend which surrounds and 
sustains him. But in striving so 
successfully to create an image of 
Lincoln which will endure, simul- 
taneously Sandburg has created a 
lesser legend which envelops him- 
self as Lincoln's biographer. It was 
this growing legend which was nur- 
tured by Sandburg's address to the 
Eighty-Sixth Congress in 1959, one 
of two civilians ever to have been 
so honored. His subject was Abra- 
ham Lincoln, born 1 50 years earlier. 
But in making Lincoln live for his 
contemporaries, Sandburg has inad- 
vertently drawn heavily from Sand- 
burg, the patient researcher and 
sympathetic artist. This constitutes 
the unique source of the book's 
power. Ideally the two seem to 
complement each other. The fol- 
lowing excerpts from "A Lincoln 
Preface" fairly exemplify the 
thoroughness of Sandburg's research 
and the casual yet powerful identity 
with Lincoln which immediately 
arises like a half-remembered person- 
al nostalgia from the cold printed 
II page, but a page now chosen and 
ordered by a poet blessed with 
superb human insight and selective 

In the time of the April lilacs in the 
year 1865, a man in the City of Wash- 
ington, D.C., trusted a guard to watch at 
a door, and the guard was careless, left 
the door, and the man was shot, lingered 
a night, passed away, was laid in a box, 
and carried north and west a thousand 
miles; bells sobbed; cities wore crepe; 
people stood with hats off as the railroad 

burial car came past at midnight, dawn 
or noon. . . . 

When the woman who wrote UncJe 
Tom's Cabin came to see him in the 
White House, he greeted her, "So you're 
the little woman who wrote the book 
that made this great war," and as they 
seated themselves at a fireplace, "I do 
love an open fire; I always had one to 
home." As they were finishing their talk 
of the days of blood, he said, "I shan't 
last long after it's over. . . ." 

His life, mind and heart ran in contrasts. 
When his white kid gloves broke into 
tatters while shaking hands at a White 
House reception, he remarked, "This looks 
like a general bustification. . . ." 

He was a chosen spokesman; yet there 
were times he was silent; nothing but 
silence could at those times have fitted 
a chosen spokesman; in the mixed shame 
and blame of the immense wrongs of two 
crashing civilizations, with nothing to say, 
he said nothing, slept not at all, and wept 
at those times in a way that made weep- 
ing appropriate, decent, majestic. 
(From The Sandburg Range, Harcourt, 
Brace and Company 1957, pp. 351-353- 
Copyright, 1953, by Carl Sandburg. 
Reprinted by permission of the publishers.) 

Sandburg's portrait of Lincoln 
might possibly be surpassed, but 
until such a remote day arrives, it is 
our best national biography, of 
greatness, by greatness, and for a 
future universal greatness arising 
from masses of common men made 
uncommon by their realization that 
such men have lived. 

Thoughts for Discussion 

1. Prove that poetry and music have 
unified Sandburg's life. 

2. If you were to write a short paper 
on "The Education of Carl Sandburg," 
what specific points would you empha- 
size? What conclusions would you reach? 

3. Discuss "free men of imagination" 
and "resistance to change" as they fit 
into Carl Sandburg's personal philosophy. 


SOCIAL SCIENCE • Divine Law and Church Government 
Church Government: Its Organization and Structure 

Lesson 14 — Summary of Organization and Structure of the Church 

Elder Ariel S. Ballif 

For Fourth Meeting, May 1964 

Objective: To emphasize the evidence of divine influence in the structure and operation 
of Church government. 

The Church is the body of believers, 
organized [by the Priesthood] according to 
divine law. It is invested with the neces- 
sary rights, powers, and authority to carry 
forward on earth the purposes of the 
Almighty Father as contained in his plan 
of salvation for his children on earth 
(WiDTSOE, John A.: Program of the 
Church, 1941 edition, page 22). 

Zion, "The pure in heart," the kingdom 
of God here upon the earth, is The 
Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day 
Saints and no other, and with its divinely 
restored power of the priesthood of the 
Living God, with its ordinances, organiza- 
tions, agencies, and facilities, and with its 
message of pure, eternal gospel truth, it 
reaches out the hand of fellowship to the 
whole human family, to lead our Father's 
children into transcendent joy, eternal 
progress, and the presence of our Lord 
(Richards, Stephen L: Where Is Wis- 
dom? page 406) . 

The Priesthood is a dynamic cre- 
ative power and a directing force 
upon the earth. Adam held the 
Holy Priesthood after the order of 
the Son of God. In the various dis- 
pensations of time, God has acti- 
vated his Priesthood, instituted his 
government, and offered his services 
to the human family. 

Having in mind the welfare of 
his children and being constantly 

aware of the purpose of creation, 
God has revealed a system of govern- 
ment for his Church that would 
make possible peace on earth and 
good will among men. 

The Church of Jesus Christ of 
Latter-day Saints is the kingdom of 
God upon the earth today. In it 
there is a fulness of the gospel be- 
ing administered by his authorized 
agents. This means that' all the wis- 
dom, counsel, and direction (divine 
law), that God has ever revealed to 
man to assist him in his quest for 
joy, happiness, and exaltation have 
been restored. 

The Restoration of the Priesthood 

The 6th of April, 1830, was both 
a climax and a beginning in The 
Church of Jesus Christ of Latter- 
day Saints. The major event in its 
history took place in a grove in early 
spring of 1820. In this quiet, peace- 
ful place the testimony of the 
ancient scriptures was verified as the 
boy Joseph Smith beheld the Father 
and the Son. 

Their declaration to him, that the 
Church of God was not upon the 
earth, began a chain of events that 



climaxed in the organization of the 

These events included instruction 
and training by heavenly messen- 
gers, the key events happening in 
May and June of 1829, when the 
power and authority to act officially 
for God upon the earth were con- 
ferred upon Joseph Smith and Oliver 
Cowdery by John the Baptist and 
apostles Peter, James, and John, the 
men Christ had chosen in the 
meridian of time to head his Church 
following the crucifixion. Shortly 
after the restoration of the Priest- 
hood, the translation of The Book 
of Mormon was completed. It be- 
came a new witness for God testify- 
ing of the mission of Jesus Christ. 

With the Holy Priesthood as his 
authority to act and the witness to 
the world of the fulness of the gos- 
pel contained in The Book of Mor- 
mon, the Prophet Joseph brought 
the first phase of his work to a focal 
point with the orgnization of the 

Church Government Is the 
Priesthood in Action 

It is most significant to note how 
little attention was given to the 
structure of Church government un- 
til the Priesthood was conferred 
upon Joseph and Oliver. 

We believe that a man must be called 
of God, by prophecy, and by the laying 
on of hands, by those who are in authority 
to preach the Gospel and administer in 
the ordinances thereof (Fifth Article of 
; Faith). 

After the Priesthood was given to 

\ them, Joseph and Oliver explained 

' the principles of the gospel, baptized 

I those who received a testimony, and 

then set up the official organization 

and government of the Church (see 
Section 20 of the Doctrine and 
Covenants) patterned after the 
structure of the Church Jesus had 
established while he was upon the 

The Enlightenment of 
the Holy Ghost 

The Prophet Joseph informs us 
that immediately following their 
baptism, the Holy Ghost fell upon 
them and they prophesied of im- 
portant things to come. Joseph 

Our minds being now enlightened, we 
began to have the scriptures laid open to 
our understandings, and the true meaning 
and intention of their more mysterious 
passages revealed unto us in a manner 
which we never could attain to previously, 
nor ever before had thought of . . . (Pearl 
of Great Price, Joseph Smith 2:74). 

After receiving the authority of 
the Priesthood and the enlighten- 
ment of mind from the Holy Ghost, 
the Church was organized. Through 
the process of inquiry and revela- 
tion, the Prophet received the detail 
of the structure and government of 
the Church, not all at once, but step 
by step until an organization un- 
equaled by the efforts of man, has 
been perfected. 

The Sacredness of 
Priesthood Callings 

In our course of study we are con- 
cerned with the fact that the Priest- 
hood was restored and is the basis 
upon which Church government and 
organization are built. The Church 
of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints 
was not founded upon protests 
against the alleged mistakes of any 
existing Churches. It was founded 









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COMMMANDMENTS . ..Madsen .25 

IN THY FORM Madsen .20 


FOR JOY Stephens .20 



LORD'S PRAYER Gates .20 


HOUSE TO THEE Madsen .20 



GLADNESS Schumann 


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by the Priesthood of God through 
direct instructions from Christ him- 

We must keep in mind that every 
office and calhng in the Priesthood, 
both Aaronic and Melchizedek, is 
sacred and important to the work of 
the Lord. To be ordained to a call- 
ing in the Priesthood is a distinction, 
and to function in the government 
of the Church is an honor and a 
blessing. To be worthy to act as 
the authorized agent of God, exer- 
cising his power among men, de- 
mands God-like actions in all areas 
of human behavior. The nearer 
men come to perfection, the greater 
their effectiveness in their Priest- 
hood callings. Therefore, as the 
body of the Priesthood bearers 
achieve this perfection, it is reflected 
in the operation of the Church. 

The Worth of Souls 

The importance of the Priesthood 
in Church government is pointed 
out in the above discussions. 
Nothing can be done officially 
without the authority of the Priest- 
hood. It should also be pointed 
out that the government of the 
Church, the total organization and 
program of the Church, are de- 
signed by the Creator for the wel- 
fare of man. There is much evi- 
dence to support the statement that 
God's major purpose and concern is 
the perfection of man. For ex- 
ample, in the beginning all the intel- 
ligences existed coeternally with 
God. The personality of man be- 
comes sacred by the fact of the 
spiritual Fatherhood of God; and 
as a major evidence he, the Father, 
gave his Only Begotten Son as a 



sacrifice to open the way for all 
mankind to have everlasting life. 

Whenever the Church of God has 
been upon the earth, its major duty 
has been to inform mankind of the 
purpose of life, man's relationship 
to God and to man, and to make 
man aware of his own possibilities 
and responsibilities- as a child of 

Calling people to repentance, or 
to accept the pattern of life that 
will assure them of their greatest 
accomplishments in life and exalta- 
tion in the celestial kingdom, is the 
perpetual assignment of the Priest- 

Priesthood Quorums and 
Church Organization 

To be effective in the lives of peo- 
ple and in the organization and 
operation of the Church, there need 
to be system and order in the be- 
stowal of and the operation of the 
power of the Priesthood. Determin- 
ing factors in having the privilege of 
Priesthood bestowal include worthi- 
ness of character, willingness to 
serve, and knowledge of the duties 
and obligations of the Priesthood to 
be conferred. 

Of most importance in the effec- 
tive use of power, is getting it under 
control and keeping it available. 
Proper connection with the source 
of the power is of vital importance. 
In discussing the Priesthood, God is 
the source of the power, it is con- 
trolled and directed only through 
the authorized agency upon the 
earth and the connections are acti- 
vated by righteousness. 

With every man in the Church 
a potential Priesthood holder, it is 
essential that there be effective 




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"There is no substitute for experience" 

regulations governing the use of this 
power. To the Priesthood holder 
who serves the Lord in righteous- 
ness there is no limit to the good 
he can do on his own. But, to hold 
an office in the government or a 
position of leadership in any organi- 
zation of the Church, he must be 
called to the office by the proper 

To provide an orderly operation 
and development of the Priesthood, 
the members holding the Aaronic 
and Melchizedek Priesthood are 
organized into quorums. In The 
Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day 
Saints, a quorum is a specially se- 
lected or chosen body referring to all 
the members of that body, such as 
a quorum of deacons, quorum of 
elders, etc. 

The objectives of the Melchizedek 
Priesthood quorums are: (i) to 



promote gospel scholarship by teach- ities of the Church. They administer 

ing the doctrines of the gospel to the affairs of the Church through 

every member; ( 2 ) to provide oppor- stake, ward, mission, and branch 

tunities for Church services; (3) to officers. 

care for the temporal, intellectual, The stake presidency is appoint- 
and spiritual welfare of all quorum ed by the First Presidency. By con- 
members and their families; (4) to f erring upon the stake presidency 
provide adequate fellowship and the proper authority, they can call 
fraternalism through socials, athlet- and set apart the necessary stake 
ics, and the like, for all quorum officers and conduct all the business 
members. {Mdchizedek Piiesthood that pertains to the operation of a 
Handbook, page 21.) The quorum stake. Excepted are bishoprics, 
as an organized body of the Priest- patriarchs, presidents of high priests' 
hood implies an ideal standard of quorums, stake mission presidents, 
conduct, a common purpose, unity stake clerks, and high councilors 
of decision, and a vital interest in (without permission from a General 
the welfare of each member. Authority). These ordinances and 

The quorum thus becomes a train- settings apart are reserved for mem- 

ing ground for Church leadership, bers of the Twelve, Assistants to the 

In fact, when the quorum functions Twelve, and now the Presidents of 

to its full capacity and design, it Seventy who are ordained high 

could meet most successfully all the priests. 

activity and instructional needs of The bishopric is approved by the 

the Church. Certainly not in the First Presidency, and is set apart by 

quorum meeting as such, but by the proper General Authorities. The 

fully carrying out the quorum ob- bishopric can then proceed to call 

jectives, all necessary organization and set apart the necessary ward 

could be formulated under Priest- officers; however, the bishopric is 

hood leadership. directly responsible to the stake 


The Priesthood in Xhe stake presidency can call and 

Church Government set apart branch presidencies when 

The basic structure of Church branches are necessary, 
government is seen in the adminis- The missions of the Church are 
trative officers and organization of presided over by a president called 
its geographic units. Church gov- and set apart by the First Presi- 
ernment is the function of the dency. The mission president with 
Priesthood. The authority and keys his two counselors preside in the 
of the Priesthood are centered in the mission. The branch and district 
Prophet, Seer, and Revelator of the presidents are appointed and set 
Church. The President, with his apart by them. They represent the 
Counselors, the Quorum of the First Presidency and conduct the 
Twelve, the Patriarch, the Assistants official business of the mission un- 
to the Twelve, the Seven Presidents der the direction of the First Presi- 
of Seventy, and the Presiding Bish- dency. 
opric constitute the General Author- The Priesthood quorums are sup- 



porting units to the branches, wards, 
stakes, and missions. They provide 
the manpower that the officers of 
these organized units need, in or- 
der to carry out the program of the 
Church. The ecclesiastical line of 
authority governs and operates the 
program of the Church. The Priest- 
hood line of authority is responsible 
for developing leadership abilities in 
each quorum member through the 
Priesthood objectives. All Church 
members are subject to call by the 
proper ecclesiastical authority to fill 
the offices in the Church program of 
branch, ward, stake, or Church. 

Membership in The Church of 
Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints 
means activity in a good cause. It 
calls for an applied testimony of the 
truthfulness of the gospel, ''be ye 
doers of the word, and not hearers 
only . . ." (James 1:22). 

As has been indicated, the quorum 
is the training ground for leadership 
in the Church. An important charac- 
teristic of leadership is how to be a 
good follower. Quorum member- 
ship implies a desire to prepare, to 
improve one's ability to do some- 
thing for others and do it to the 
best of one's ability. Ward and 
branch membership is the place 
where this preparation is put into 

The Gospel of Repentance 

The gospel of Jesus Christ is a 
gospel of repentance. Christ gave 
mankind a perfect example and pre- 
sented a way of life that would lead 
to perfection. "Therefore to him 
that knoweth to do good, and doeth 
it not, to him it is sin" ( James 4:17). 

The call to repentance is extended 
to people everywhere, in all walks 


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July 13 to August 8: 
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Cumoroh Pageant. Also, 
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July 23 to August 15: 
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and stations of life. The great ob- 
jective is to bring all mankind into 
the light, . knowledge, and wisdom 
of the Creator. This is the only 
approach to perfection. Any indi- 
vidual who does not do as well as he 
knows how has need of repentance. 
People should never stop extending 
their knowledge of all that is good. 

In the program of the Church, 
the idea of repentance is given con- 
stant attention. Human nature 
must be disciplined. The appetites 
of man must be controlled for his 
own good and advancement. True 
repentance means a permanent 
change in behavior. 

The plan of life and salvation 
teaches all men the value and bene- 
fit of righteous living. The wayward 
are given special attention with the 
hope that they will recognize their 
mistakes, exercise their agency, and 



elect to follow the design of the 
Creator. The emphasis of divine 
law is on rehabilitation of the way- 
ward through wisdom, guidance, 
mercy, and love. 

The courts or councils of justice 
in the Church are designed to bring 
people to repentance. They are to 
bring to light the truth in the case, 
not to condemn and destroy, but to 
encourage re-orientation of life in 
harmony with the eternal values of 
the gospel of Jesus Christ. Even 
when it is necessary for the Church 
court to pronounce the severe action 
of excommunication, forgiveness 
must always be in the hearts of the 
members of the Church. Jesus said 
he would forgive whom he would, 
but we as individuals must forgive 

The authorized judge in a Church 
court is not required to forgive the 
sins of individuals, but may be in a 
position where he must exact severe 
penalties. Certainly every judge, 
however, should have the spirit of 
forgiveness in his heart. 

It must be remembered that coun- 
cils of justice are helpful, even 
essential, to personal development 
of offenders in that they tend to 
stimulate the art of discipline and 
self-control. The courts of the 
Church support and sustain the 
high ideals and values in our way of 

It should be remembered that love 
is the real motivation of the Priest- 
hood and should be basic to all hu- 
man association. Certainly the dis- 
pensing of justice in the Church 
courts should be as full of mercy as 
is assured by the Master, himself. 

Church Government Was Initiated 
for Man's Advancement 

Jesus dedicated his life to the serv- 
ice of his fellow men. This is the 
pattern he set for each person who 
enjoys membership in his Church 
and kingdom. Every person in the 
Church is a potential leader and if 
each one follows the program of the 
Church, he can prepare himself to 
perform any duty assigned him in 
the Church. One needs humility, 
sincerity, faith, and a willingness to 
work hard, to be successful as an 
officer or teacher. 

The opportunities and responsi- 
bilities involved in a calling in 
Church government are about equal 
in their bearing upon the person 
involved. The opportunities result 
in growth and development of the 
individual. The responsibilities re- 
quire service to others, assisting 
them in their pursuit of happiness, 
understanding, and perfection. This 
unselfish dedication to service in- 
creases the efficiency and effective- 
ness of the person and builds a con- 
fidence and competency in his lead- 
ership. The compensation is great 
in net returns to the individual ac- 
cepting a calling. The true value 
of service is derived from the con- 
secration of time and talent to the 
work of the Lord which, in simple 
terms, is the uplifting of mankind. 


Doctrine and Covenants, Sections 18; 
20; 27; 42; 43; 58; 102; 107; 114; 115; 
121; 127; and 132, 

WiDTSOE, John A.: Piiesthood and 
Church Government, Chapters 9; 10; 11; 
12; 13; 14; 15; 16; 17; and 18. 

Smith, Joseph Fielding: Essentials in 
Church History, Chapter 9. 


Pearl of Great Price: Joseph Smith. 
Articles oi Faith, Chapters lo; 20; 23; 


Thoughts for Discussion 

1. What evidence can you give of the 
divinity of the Church? 

2. What is the real objective of Church 
government and organi?ation? 

3. Why was it necessary to restore the 
Priesthood before the organization of 
Church government? 

4. Accepting the fact that the Priest- 
hood is the power of God and that Church 
government is this power in action, what 
importance do we give the program of 
the Church in our everyday life? 

5. How important are the principles of 
repentance and forgiveness in the opera- 
tion of Church government? 

6. How important are you as an indi- 
vidual to the operation of Church govern- 


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t>'Siifcgfc.-*..gtL , -^ 




'Volume 51 Number 3 March 1964 

I .' 



Linnie F. Robinson 

Someone has touched the valley and the hill, 

In warmth of wind or whisper on dead grass, 

Then green comes glowing from the darkened earth 

And the miracle of spring has come to pass. 

While on the hill, resplendent in array, 

Beneath the crags and caught in every wood 

Flashes the gold of fragile daffodils. 

And violets peeping blue from every hood. 

And In the air the robins come to sing 
The furling bud, the warm and waking hour; 
Blue skies deepen, untouched by wintry cloud 
With promised bloom on every trellised bower. 

Someone has waked the valley and the hill — 
The heart looks up and reads his prescient wi 

The Cover: 


Art Layout: 

Big Cottonwood Canyon, Utah 

Transparency by L. Paul Roberts 

Lithographed in Full Color by Deseret News Press 

Blossoms, Near Sebastopol, California 
Photograph by Don Knight 

Dick Scopes 
Mary Scopes 



My neighbor who was ill in the 
hospital asked for something new and 
different to read. I took her The Re- 
lief Society Magazine — small and 
easy to handle and with a very color- 
ful cover. She was delighted, and read 
it immediately. Then the night nurse 
saw it lying on the bed and asked 
what kind of magazine it was, and if 
she might read it. My neighbor told 
her she was welcome to read the 
Magazine, but to be sure to return it. 
The next night the nurse returned the 
Magazine. She had especially enjoyed 
the stories and recipes. When my 
neighbor was being brought home 
from the hospital the woman who 
was taking her home asked to read 
the Magazine. She liked the stories 
and poems. All this created an interest 
in the Church, and the woman who 
took my neighbor home from the 
hospital is to be baptized at our next 
baptism day. Let's every one of us 
be a missionary. 

Geneva Cluff 

Phoenix, Arizona 

Thank you for the beautiful Maga- 
zine. We sell more Relief Society 
Magazines each year, and we know 
they will help each subscriber to gain 
a testimony of the gospel, and also 
help to make a happier home by fol- 
lowing the instructions pertaining to 
becoming a better wife, mother, and 

Laura R. Shimp 


Huntington Park Stake 
Relief Society, 

I really appreciate and love the 
Magazine, and my twelve-year-old 
daughter reads it before I get a 
chance, part of the time. Thank you 
for the Magazine and the lovely les- 

Beverly Culwell 

North Little Rock 

I enjoy my Relief Society Magazine 
very much, and I have saved all the 
Magazines since I joined the Church. 
Today, I have parted with some of 
the Magazines, and I know that some 
of them will never return, but I am 
sure the older ladies in the nursing 
home where I sent them will enjoy 
them, because they are small enough 
to handle in bed. The stories and 
lessons are not so long that they 
would lose interest in reading them. 
Mrs. Audrey Warren 

Charles City, Iowa 

The visiting teacher message for the 
month of October ("Wherefore, I Say 
Unto You, That Ye Ought to Forgive 
One Another," by Christine H. Robin- 
son) is one of the best lessons I have 
ever taught. It is put together so 

Mrs. Dee Phillips 

Ferndale, Michigan 

As a young mother, with four chil- 
dren, and a husband in the bishopric, 
I find the Magazine a great source 
of inspiration and encouragement. 
Whenever I feel blue or discouraged, 
I can always find just the right article 
to touch my heart and inspire me to 
do better. 

Sharon T. Koster 

Provo, Utah 

I am a girl of fifteen and I received 
the lovely Relief Society Magazine as 
a Christmas gift two years ago from 
my grandmother. I love the beautiful 
covers and enjoy the stories very 
much, as well as the poetry in each 
issue. May I say it is not only the 
older women, but also the girls of 
my age who read and love the Maga- 
zine. From a future Relief Society 

Marilyn Child 

Springville, Utah 


The R^li^f Society Magazine 


Editor Marianne C. Sharp 
Associate Editor Vesta P. Crawford 
General Manager Belle S. Spafford 

Special Features 

164 Train Up a Child Marion G. Romney 

170 "Charity Never Faileth" Edith P. Backman 

184 The American Red Cross and Its Blood Donor Program Perkins McGuire 
216 What Does Your Speech Reveal? Myrtle Henderson 

235 My Father's Violin Afton Brown 

173 Someone to Cheer for Johnny — Third Prize Story Myrtle M. Dean 

188 More Value Than Many Sparrows Margaret Woods 

213 Second Chance Blanche M. Hollingsworth 

220 Your Heart to Understanding — Chapter 2 Hazel M. Thomson 

General Features 

162 From Near and Far 

181 Woman's Sphere Ramona W. Cannon 

182 Editorial: We Are the Beneficiaries Louise W. Madsen 

228 Notes From the Field: Relief Society Activities Hulda Parker 
240 Birthday Congratulations 

The Home - Inside and Out 

185 Don't You Love Your Sisters! Margaret Russell 
191 The World's Favorite Roses Dorothy J. Roberts 
198 Painting With Glass Florian H. Thayn 

204 Parleys Sixth Ward Country Fair Bazaar VaLora M. Anderson 
209 Planning a Successful Bazaar Louise W. Madsen 
212 Recipes for Springtime 

Charlotte Russe Ingrid W. Olsen 

Desserts That Please the Family Florence K. Gates 
219 Cast Your Bread Upon the Waters Olive Sharp 
227 Charlotte H. Singley — Landscape Artist 

161 The Heart Looks Up — Frontispiece Linnie F. Robinson 

On Spring and Love, by Mabel Jones Gabbott, 172; Spring, by Rowena Jensen Bills, 180; 
Who Plants a Garden, by Eva Willes Wangsgaard, 190; Curled in Seed, by Alice Morrey 
Bailey, 197; Fawn at the Pool, by Thelma J. Lund, 218; Our Chapel, by Margaret B. Sho- 
maker, 219; Feather Grief, by Ida Elaine James, 236; Pathway, by Catherine B. Bowles, 237; 
Exile, by Gilean Douglas, 239; Thanks for These, by Caroline Eyring Miner, 240. 

Published monthly by THE GENERAL BOARD OF RELIEF SOCIETY of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-doy Saints. © 1964 by 
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enclosed. Rejected manuscripts will be retained for six months only. The Magazine is not responsible for unsolicited manuscripts 



up a 


Marion G. Romney 

of The Council of the Twelve 

[Address Delivered at The Relief Society 
Annual General Conference 
October 3, 1963] 

My beloved sisters: To me it is substitute for parents in this, 
a signal honor to have been named their most urgent parental re- 
one of your advisers. I intend to sponsibility. 

do my best to render such ser- The importance of this respon- 

vice as the calling entails. sibility was emphasized by the 

I have thought to address you Lord in the very early days of 

today as mothers on a text taken the Restored Church, ". . . inas- 

from the wise man's proverb: much as parents have children 

"Train up a child in the way he in Zion, [he said] . . . that teach 

should go: and when he is old, them not to understand the 

he will not depart from it" (Prov- doctrine of repentance, faith in 

erbs 22:6). Christ the Son of the living God, 

The selection of this text was and of baptism and the gift of 
prompted by my conviction that the Holy Ghost by the laying on 
training our children is our best of the hands, when eight years 
antidote to the godless material- old, the sin be upon the heads of 
ism, irreverent secularism, declin- the parents" (D&C 68:25). 
ing morality, adult and juvenile Eighteen months later he ex- 
delinquency, increasing crime, plained that all children are in- 
and general disregard for the nocent before him in their infant 
laws of God and the dignity of state, but thereafter "... that 
man which so plague our present wicked one cometh and [by per- 
society. suading them to disobedience] 

It is not my purpose to harrow taketh away light and truth 

up your souls by dwelling upon "But [he continues] I have 

this sordid aspect of our times, commanded you to bring up your 

My only purpose in calling it to children in light and truth" 

your attention at all is my belief (D&C 93:39-40). 

that unless these pernicious prac- He then spoke directly to some 

tices are checked, they presage of the leading brethren, first to 

the end of our way of life and Frederick G. Williams. "You 

my further conviction that you, have not taught your children 

as members of the Relief Society, light and truth, according to the 

have the potential to inspire the commandments; and that wicked 

parents of the Church, particular- one hath power, as yet, over you, 

ly mothers, more effectively to and this is the cause of your af- 

train their children to avoid them, fliction." I wonder if some of our 

The Church can and will assist in afflictions, some of our juvenile 

that training. But it can only as- delinquency, for example, could 

sist. It is not and cannot be a be due to the fact that we have 



not taught our children hght and 

The Lord did not leave Brother 
WiUiams in any doubt as to his 
responsibility in the matter, for, 
he continued, "And now a com- 
mandment I give unto you — if 
you will be delivered you shall 
set in order your own house ..." 
(D&C 93:41-43). 

He then said that Sidney Rig- 
don had ''not kept the command- 
ments concerning his children" 
(verse 44) and commanded him 
to do so. He reproved Bishop 
Whitney for the misconduct of 
his children, saying of him he 
". . . hath need to . . . set in order 
his family, and see that they are 
more diligent and concerned at 
home . . . (D&C 93:50). 

Even the Prophet Joseph him- 
self was reprimanded for faihng 
properly to train his children. 

Parents today are under the 
same obligation as were these 
early brethren. The consequences 
of failing to train our children 
are just as serious now as they 
were then. Although in the 
revelation the Lord spoke to 
fathers, the obligation rests just 
as heavily upon mothers. In fact, 
some of the brethren have said 
that mothers, having a greater 
influence upon their children, 
bear the major responsibility. 

President Brigham Young, for 
example, said: 

The duty of the mother is to watch 
over her children and give them their 
early education, for impressions re- 
ceived in infancy are lasting, ... if 
mothers would take proper pains, 

they can instill into the hearts of 
their children what they please. You 
will, no doubt, recollect reading, in 
the Book of Mormon, of two thousand 
young men, who were brought up to 
believe that, if they put their whole 
trust in God, and served him, no 
power could overcome them. You also 
recollect of them going out to fight, 
and so bold were they, and so mighty 
their faith, that it was impossible for 
their enemies to slay them. This 
power and faith they obtained through 
the teachings of their mothers. . . . 
These duties and responsibilities de- 
volve upon mothers far more than 
upon fathers (Discourses of Brigham 
Young, page 201, 1951 edition). 

Bearing this great responsibili- 
ty, we must not be so busy with 
the urgent things pressed upon 
us in feeding, clothing, housing, 
and otherwise looking after the 
temporal needs of our children 
that we neglect the important 
things, the things calculated to 
fortify them against the evils of 
the world and prepare them for 
eternal hfe. We must not, as 
someone has said, have our minds 
and efforts so intent upon climb- 
ing the mountain that in our ex- 
haustion we fail to see the view 
from the top. 

Perhaps a look at some of the 
conduct which must be corrected 
will suggest things we must teach. 
Consider, for instance, vandalism, 
which is one of the things in 
which juvenile delinquents spe- 
cialize — pounding down drink- 
ing fountain heads, chopping new 
hardwood floors in unfinished 
houses, breaking windows, slash- 
ing furniture, stripping cars of 
hub caps and dashboard gadgets, 
for example. 


MARCH 1964 

Among the crimes they most 
frequently commit are (1) those 
of passion, principally aggravated 
assault, sex perversion, immorali- 
ty, and ''forcible rape," and (2) 
those which violate the command, 
"Thou shalt not steal," such as 
auto theft, burglary, grand larce- 
ny, and robbery. 

It ought to be sobering to Lat- 
ter-day Saints to contemplate 
and realize how completely every 
one of these misdeeds would be 
eliminated by practicing the 
things which the Lord has spe- 
cifically directed us to teach our 

Obedience, for example. "Your 
family must needs . . . give more 
earnest heed unto your sayings, 
or be removed out of their place," 
said the Lord to the Prophet 
Joseph (D&C 93:48). And what 
were the Prophet's sayings con- 
cerning lawlessness such as is 
rampant among us? One of the 
things he said was: "We believe 
in . . . obeying, honoring, and 
sustaining the law" (Twelfth 
Article of Faith). 

Proper teaching of and training 
in this one fundamental principle 
of obedience to the laws of the 
land would effectively eliminate 
vandalism and crime. 

Another thing the Lord has di- 
rected us to train our children 
to do, which, neglected as it is, 
contributes to our present vexa- 
tions, is to work. 

"An idle brain," so the saying 
goes, "is the devil's workshop." 
This is no doubt true because 
the scriptures associate idleness 

with things most despicable. De- 
scribing the remnant of his peo- 
ple, as in vision he saw them, 
"after they had dwindled in un- 
belief," Nephi said, "They be- 
came a dark, and loathsome, and 
a filthy people, full of idleness 
and all manner of abominations" 
(1 Nephi 12:23). 

The Lord, condemning idleness 
in this dispensation, associates it 
with juvenile delinquency and 
wickedness, specifically with 
greediness. "The idler," he says, 
"shall be had in remembrance 
before the Lord," adding, "I . . . 
am not well pleased with the in- 
habitants of Zion, for there are 
idlers among them; and their 
children also are growing up in 
wickedness; they seek not ear- 
nestly the riches of eternity, but 
their eyes are full of greediness" 
(D&C 68:30-31). 

In addition to obedience and 
work, I want to mention another 
one of the many things the Lord 
has specifically commanded us to 
teach our children — namely, to 

Speaking of the inhabitants of 
Zion, he said, "They shall also 
teach their children to pray, and 
to walk uprightly before the 
Lord" (D&C 68:28). He adds: 
"And a commandment I give unto 
them — that he that observeth 
not his prayers before the Lord 
in the season thereof, let him be 
had in remembrance before the 
judge of my people" (D&C 

"Pray always," said the Lord 
to the Prophet, "that you may 
come off conqueror; yea, that 



you may conquer Satan, and that 
you may escape the hands of the 
servants of Satan that do uphold 
his work" (D&C 10:5). Par- 
ticularly is daily secret and 
family prayer imperative in this 
day when the effect of the irre- 
ligious trend of the law of the 
land is to eliminate God and his 
righteousness from the daily lives 
and affairs of men. 

No wise Latter-day Saint moth- 
er with an understanding of the 
power of prayer and the irre- 
ligious trend of our society will 
fail to train her children to pray. 
No person has a stronger weapon 
against the power of evil than he 
who with unbroken regularity 
goes night and morning on 
bended knee before his Heavenly 
Father in sincere and humble 
secret prayer. I challenge anyone 
to find a delinquent among those 
who do so. 

And mothers, don't underesti- 
mate the power of your own 
prayers in behalf of your chil- 
dren. Remember, it was the pray- 
ers of Alma, Senior, in behalf of 
his wayward son and his com- 
panions which sent an angel to 
bring them to repentance. 

There are, of course, many 
other things the Lord expects us 
to teach our children which, for 
want of time, cannot be consid- 
ered here. They are, however, all 
to be found in the gospel of Jesus 

How best to teach your children 
you must yourselves learn 
through study, experience, and 

the guidance of the Holy Spirit 
which "shall be given unto you 
by the prayer of faith" (D&C 
42:14). Whatever your method, 
however, this you shall remem- 
ber: your teaching, to be suc- 
cessful and effective, must con- 
vince your children that hving 
the gospel is the way to hap- 
piness. If they feel that the 
discipline to which they are sub- 
jected is arbitrary; that without 
reason it restricts their normal 
activities and keeps them from 
enjoying life, they will conform 
only so long as you have them 
under your immediate physical 
control. Thereafter they will re- 
bel and defy you. In some cases 
they will be worse off for your 
efforts. The following counsel 
which the Lord gave to the 
Prophet Joseph Smith is a sure 

No power or influence can or ought 
to be maintained by virtue of the 
priesthood, only by persuasion, by 
long-suffering, by gentleness and 
meekness, and by love unfeigned; 

By kindness, and pure knowledge, 
which shall greatly enlarge the soul 
without hypocrisy, and without guile — 

Reproving betimes with sharpness, 
when moved upon by the Holy Ghost; 
and then showing forth afterwards an 
increase of love toward him whom 
thou hast reproved, lest he esteem 
thee to be his enemy; 

That he may know that thy faith- 
fulness is stronger than the cords of 
death (D&C 121:41-44). 

By the exercise of patience, 
long-suffering, and love, the good 
will and confidence of our chil- 
dren must be won. Time and un- 
derstanding must be devoted to 


MARCH 1964 

teaching and training them so 
that they voluntarily comply 
with the revealed truths of the 
gospel. Little by little they must, 
while still responsive to your 
guidance, come to realize and ap- 
preciate that ''men are that they 
might have joy'' (2 Nephi 2:25). 
That, as the Prophet Joseph said, 
"Happiness is the object and 
design of our existence; and will 
be the end thereof, if we pursue 
the path that leads to it." Your 
children must, as a result of your 
guidance, through their own ex- 
perience come to believe and 
know that, as the Prophet further 
said, ''this path is virtue, upright- 
ness, faithfulness, holiness, and 
keeping all the commandments 
of God" (DHC. V, pp. 134-135). 
Teach them that, as Alma told 
his son Corianton, ". . . wicked- 
ness never was happiness" (Alma 
41:10), and what Samuel the 
Lamanite said to the wayward 
Nephites, as he foretold their 
ultimate end if they refused to 

... ye have procrastinated the day 
of your salvation until it is everlast- 
ingly too late, and your destruction 
is made sure; yea, for ye have sought 
all of the days of your lives for that 
which ye could not obtain; and ye 
have sought for happiness in doing 
iniquity, which thing is contrary to 
the nature of that righteousness which 
is in our great and Eternal Head 
(Helaman 13:38). 

Somehow we must get our chil- 
dren as they grow up to under- 
stand these great truths. We can 
help them to understand it by 
approving proper conduct and 

by letting them know that im- 
proper conduct brings sorrow. 
They can know when they are 
three years old if they are taught 

Both our homes and our society 
will be put in order when and 
only when, by precept and ex- 
ample, parents teach and inspire 
in their children a wilhng resolu- 
tion to live the principles of the 
gospel of Jesus Christ. For when 
one gets a witness of their divinity 
and glimpses the joy of their 
promise, he will pray fervently, 
work diligently, and strictly obey 
the commandments of God, 
which, of course, include the 
laws of the land. 

Now, as I conclude, I would 
like you to feel the spirit of The 
Book of Mormon on this matter 
of training your children. Speak- 
ing to his people who had been 
moved to repentance, chastened 
and strengthened in their faith 
by his great farewell address, 
King Benjamin thus counseled 
and instructed them concerning 
the training of their children: 

And again I say unto you as I have 
said before, that as ye have come to 
the knowledge of the glory of God . . . 
and have received a remission of your 
sins, which causeth such exceeding 
great joy in your souls, even so I 
would that ye should . . . always re- 
tain in remembrance, the greatness 
of God . . . and humble yourselves 
even in the depths of humility, calling 
on the name of the Lord daily, and 
standing steadfastly in the faith. . . . 

And behold, I say unto you that if 
ye do this ye shall always rejoice, 
and be filled with the love of God, 
and always retain a remission of your 
sins .... 



And ye will not have a mind to in- 
jure one another, but to live peace- 
ably, and to render to every man that 
which is his due. 

And ye will not suffer your children 
that they go hungry or naked; neither 
will ye suffer that they transgress the 
laws of God, and fight and quarrel 
one with another, and serve the 
devil .... 

But ye will teach them to walk in 
the ways of truth and soberness; ye 
will teach them to love one another, 
and to serve one another (Mosiah 
4:11-15). . 

I remember reading this passage 
with one of my sons when he 
was still in Primary. We were 
reading The Book of Mormon to- 
together, a verse at a time, he a 
verse and I a verse. As we read 
this passage, he was so moved by 
the statement, "ye will not suffer 
your children that they . . . trans- 
gress the laws of God, and fight 
and quarrel one with another 
and serve the devil ..." that, as 
he thought of some of his own 
pranks, tears came to his eyes. 
From that time, until he grew to 
be a man, if ever he was of a mind 
to quarrel, all we had to do was 
to quote this statement, and his 
eyes would fill with tears. 

I assure you, my beloved sis- 
ters, that if you can get into the 
hearts and feelings of your chil- 
dren the attitude and spirit of 
this great sermon, training them 
will be easy. Imbue them with 
the spirit of the gospel and our 
children will not have a mind to 
injure one another, but to live 
peaceably and to render to every- 
one that which is his due. Teach 
them, as Benjamin said, ". . . to 

walk in the ways of truth and 
soberness . . . teach them to love 
one another, and to serve one an- 
other (Mosiah 4:15). 

You know, sisters, if mothers 
and fathers would, under the di- 
rection of the Holy Spirit, strictly 
follow the commandments of the 
Lord and the counsels of his 
prophets to train up their chil- 
dren in the way they should go, 
the inhabitants of the earth 
would soon reach that glorious 
state enjoyed by the Nephites 
when "there were no contentions 
and disputations among them, 
and every man did deal justly 
one with another," when ". . . 
because of the love of God which 
did dwell in . . . [their] hearts 
. . . there were no envyings, nor 
strifes, nor tumults, nor whore- 
doms, nor lyings, nor murders, 
nor any manner of lasciviousness 
. . ." (4 Nephi 2, 15-16). So 
blessed were they that of them 
the prophet-historian said "... 
surely there could not be a hap- 
pier people among all the people 
who had been created by the 
hand of God" (4 Nephi 16). 

Although such a blessed state 
seems beyond our present hope, 
let us not forget that the Lord 
has given us the assurance that 
the survivors of our present gen- 
eration will enjoy a like society. 
This assurance should, and I be- 
lieve it does, give us a determina- 
tion to train up our children in 
the way they should go that 
they, with us, may be partici- 
pants in the fulfillment of that 
glorious promise. That it may be 
so, I humbly pray. 



Edith P. Backman 

Member, General Board 
of Relief Society 

[Address Delivered at the Relief 
Society Annual General Conference, 
October 2, 1963] 

Ihis large sea of faces is a 
most beautiful, inspiring sight, 
but to stand before you and ad- 
dress you, I can assure you, is a 
very humbling responsibility. But 
it fills my heart with gratitude 
for The Church of Jesus Christ 
of Latter-day Saints, and for the 
strong, abiding testimony which 
is mine for the truthfulness of 
the Church and of its divinity. 
I am grateful beyond measure 
that I am a member of the Relief 
Society, the greatest women's 
organization in the whole world, 
and I am grateful for the oppor- 
tunity to be able to serve with 
all of you sincere, devoted sisters. 
My testimony has become doubly 
strong because of that association 
with you, serving in an organi- 
zation which has the highest 
ideals and standards by which to 

We all know that even in a 
humble, little cottage, in a palace, 
in a ward Relief Society, or a 
large stake, or even in a small 
branch of a mission, charity never 

faileth. And what an appropriate 
motto for our Relief Society as- 
sociation to have. 

Moroni has given us a beauti- 
ful definition of charity. He said: 
". . . charity suffereth long, and 
is kind, and envieth not, and is 
not puffed up, seeketh not her 
own, is not easily provoked" 
(Moroni 7:45). And then he 
went on to say ". . . charity is 
the pure love of Christ, and it 
endure th forever; and whoso is 
found possessed of it at the last 
day, it shall be well with him. . . . 
if ye have not charity, ye are 
nothing, for charity never faileth. 
Wherefore, cleave unto charity 
. . r {Ibid., verses 46-47). 

Certainly, our dear Relief So- 
ciety sisters cleave unto charity. 
They prove their true love for 
Christ by following his admoni- 
tion, when he said, "Ye shall do 
the work which ye see me do." 

This morning Sister Spafford 
read the names of several of our 
sisters who are visiting with us 
from faraway countries. We wel- 
come them here, and we are 
grateful to have their spirit to 
buoy us up and to encourage us 
in our work here, because we 
know of some of the difficulties 
they are working under in the 
faraway missions, and although 
our languages may be different, 
our hearts are the same. Our 
spirits respond to the same love 
and charity, the same under- 
standing. Our ideals and our 
aspirations are the same. Our 
desires to be good wives and 
mothers and to be of service are 
the same. 



The Relief Society, established and they furnished the music 
by the Holy Priesthood of God, there for the dedicatory service 
blesses its sisters everywhere — of a new chapel. They had been 
the sisters on the Indian reserva- given a promise. Our Heavenly 
tion, sisters who are students or Father said, "... my soul de- 
wives of students or wives of serv- lighteth in the song of the heart; 
icemen who are far away from yea, the song of the righteous is 
home, our sisters at home, and a prayer unto me, and it shall 
our sisters in every country in be answered with a blessing upon 
the world where the Church is their heads.'' Yes, these Singing 
permitted to function. It is a Mothers, this beautiful Singing 
blessing to hear their testimonies Mothers chorus that we have 
and to hear the reports from with us today, and the Singing 
these many wonderful branches Mothers throughout the Church 
of our Relief Society, and I hope have received many blessings 
that the prayer will be answered upon their heads because of the 
in behalf of those dear sisters songs of righteousness which 
who were prayed for this morn- they have sung to our Heavenly 
ing in the closing prayer, those Father. 

who are far away from us, who There was a sister who was 

are working under difficulty, who the wife of a serviceman who was 

have that same love for the away with her little family and 

gospel that we have, may they her husband for the first time, 

be successful in their efforts and She was invited to join the small 

be able to accomplish the things Relief Society that was organ- 

that they would like to do. I was ized on the military base for 

thrilled with the report of the wives of servicemen. She said 

growth of the Church and the that the sweet spirit of sisterhood 

wonderful accomplishments of that existed there, and the con- 

those dear, devoted, faithful sis- cern that those sisters had for 

ters in faraway South Africa, each other, and the sweet associa- 

Naturally, I have a tender spot tion, were a great source of com- 

in my heart for the South African fort and joy to her. She was 

Mission because that was where taken seriously ill and was un- 

my little family was permitted able to take care of her little 

to go and serve some years ago. family while her husband was on 

I was thrilled, and my heart was duty. The Relief Society sisters 

filled to overflowing when we came to her aid. They prepared 

received the little mission pam- meals and kept her home in order 

phlet, and on the cover of this until she was able to return and 

was a picture of 100 Singing was strong enough to take over 

Mothers dressed in their white for herself. It was here that this 

blouses. They had met in the sister realized the true meaning 

beautiful city of Pretoria, which of sisterhood and of service. She 

is the capital of South Africa, bore a beautiful testimony of 


MARCH 1964 

thanksgiving to her Heavenly might, mind, and strength. With 

Father for her membership in a prayer in our hearts, that with 

the Rehef Society. She said that tolerance, and with humility and 

she was grateful to belong to an love and charity, that we will go 

organization that offers oppor- out and reach those sisters, that 

tunities for every member to be we may touch their hearts, that 

of service. And she appreciated they will have a strong desire to 

the compact course of study and become members with us in this 

the great amount of help she wonderful organization, that 

received in rearing her family, they, too, may share in the glori- 

But, above all, she was grateful ous blessings which are ours by 

for the spirituality which it being affiliated with the ReHef 

brought into her home. Society organization. As we do 

Yes, the Relief Society does this, always with a prayer in our 

bless the sisters everywhere, but hearts, let us keep our motto in 

with these blessings comes a mind, that "charity never faileth. 

great responsibility. What about Wherefore, cleave unto charity." 

all of our neighbors, all of our in- I am sure the Lord will bless us 

active sisters, all of those who that our numbers will increase, 

have not yet caught the spirit of and that we will receive much 

Relief Society work? What are joy and happiness because we are 

we doing about them? able to share the blessings of 

I pray that each of us will go Relief Society with all of our sis- 

away from this conference with ters. I ask for all of this humbly, 

a renewed determination to serve in Jesus* name. Amen, 
the Lord with all our heart, 

On Spring and Love 

Mabel Jones Gabbott 

It was the budding season of the year; 

The brown grass turned and drank of sun and rain, 

Each smallest spear, refreshed, grew taller then; 

And folded petals on the elm tree, near 

The garden gatepost where we talked, in clear 

Denial of the winter's grasp, began 

To yawn and stretch and open up again. 

Why does this first spring green disappear? 

It doesn't really; like love's first fragileness 
That still remains a part of love fulfilled. 
Spring is absorbed in summer's richer sheen; 
But after sudden showers when storms are stilled, 
Our frail first love and hints of new spring green 
Color all the aftermath of stress. 


Third Prize-winning story 

Annual Relief Society 

Short Story Contest 

Myrtle M. Dean 

to cheer 

Martha Lund planned her visit 
carefully. I won't want too many 
of my things. Just enough to get 
along for a few weeks. I don't 
want to clutter up Helen's house 
or cause extra trouble. Martha 
had been a widow almost a year. 
This was the first extended visit 
she had made to any of her fam- 
ilies. Now she planned to stay a 
whole month with Helen and 
Mark and the children. 

The most important thing I 
must remember, is never, not even 
once, to interfere with the family 
affairs or give unsolicited advice. 
I mustn't spoil the baby, or give 
the children sweet treats and ruin 
their appetites, Martha warned 
herself. But why should I be get- 
ting so worried? It seems such a 
little while since I was rearing my 
own children. I didn't mind a few 
suggestions. Just a few. I'm not 
old and fussy, I'm only fifty-five. 
But here Helen and David are 
getting quite large families. I'm 
going down and just enjoy Hel- 
en's children. 

But from the very first days of 
her visit, Martha found that it 
was going to be much more diffi- 
cult than she had expected to 
keep from speaking out of turn 
about the children. It was for 
Johnny, the oldest child, that 
caused her the most concern. 
Johnny was thirteen, and no one 
seemed to try very hard to under- 
stand his various moods or put 
up with his boyish ways. Many 
times, Martha felt like challeng- 
ing the boy's cause, but held her 

There were three other children 
in the family. Anne, a delightful 
replica of her mother, Helen, 
when she was Anne's age. She 
was now ten. Brent was seven, 
and he wore a wide toothless 
smile most of the time. Then baby 
Carol was two, an adorable child 
with blue eyes and dimples. Helen 
and Mark seemed content with 
life, and the whole family wel- 
comed Martha warmly. 

It was the very first afternoon 
of her visit. Johnny came burst- 


ing into the house, his eyes bright 
and his face sunny. 

"Mom, Mom," he called, *'we 
are playing the Cubs tonight at 
five o'clock. It isn't just a prac- 
tice. It is a real league game, and 
they are one of the best teams." 
Johnny had raised his voice loud- 
er than necessary, and it had 
skidded from high falsetto down 
almost to low bass. 

Martha smiled. She knew that 
Johnny had wanted her to know 
that he was on a league ball team. 
He looked embarrassed at the 
way his thirteen-year-old voice 
played tricks on him. She was 
about to speak when Helen's 
words stopped her. 

"Johnny, don't shout. I've told 
you before not to shout, I can 

"O. K., I'm sorry." Johnny's 
voice was low, and he turned 
away to avoid Martha's eyes. 

Martha waited a moment before 
she could trust herself to speak. 
Then she addressed herself to 

"What place do you play on 
your team?" she asked. 

"Oh, I play third base tonight. 
Sometimes I pitch for our team. 
Our coach uses three pitchers so 
none of us will tire our arm too 
much. I am lucky to get to play 
third. There were three other 
kids that tried out for it." Some 
of the enthusiasm had returned 
to Johnny's voice as he felt 
Martha's interest. 

"That boy," Helen said in a 
troubled tone after he had left 
the room. "Would you believe, 
Mother, that this is the same 
boy? You remember how cute he 
was with his chubby legs and 
winsome smile and dimples. But 
now, those lanky legs — his trous- 
ers can't keep up with them, and 



that sliding squeaky voice, and 
he simply shouts as though I were 
deaf." Helen clasped both of her 
hands over her face, as though 
she were completely baffled. 

Martha knew that her face 
showed her disapproval. She 
looked away from Helen and 
choked back her words that hur- 
ried to her mind. Maybe I should 
tell her now what I think. Maybe 
it is my duty to say something. 
If he shouts, it is because no one 
around here pays any attention 
to him, only to criticize. Johnny 
seems to be just a thirteen-year- 
old nuisance, who eats a lot and 
grows too fast and sometimes 
says silly things to get a little 
attention. This was what she 
wanted to tell Helen now, but she 
breathed deeply, and after a mo- 
ment tried to make her voice 
sound natural and speak lightly. 
She must not break her resolve 

"You know, Helen, IVe heard 
that most all boys reach a stage 
when their voice slips from high 
C to low G, but maybe you would 
like Johnny to go through life 
talking like a girl. And good-look- 
ing men like your father were 
once long-legged, growing boys. 
His own mother told me how she 
was afraid he was going all to legs 
when he was a kid." 

"Well, I do hope he turns out 
as good as Dad and Mark," 
Helen said a bit more cheerfully. 

An hour later, Mark came home 
from his game of golf. He had 
gone to play straight from his of- 

fice. He was smiling and gave 
quite a recital of the game. 

"Brad Clark says I'm doing so 
well ril be in the league play by 
late summer. I'm sure glad you 
gave me those golf clubs for my 
birthday, Helen." Mark went 
about calling loudly from bath- 
room to hall to living room talk- 
ing enthusiastically about his 

"He shouts every bit as loud 
as Johnny when he is pleased 
with himself," Martha told her- 

"Brad Clark is Mark's best 
friend. He says that the fellows 
always take their wives along 
when they go for tournament 
playoffs. If Mark makes it, just 
think, I'll get to go to Las Vegas, 
and California and even Sun Val- 
ley." Helen spoke excitedly. 

"Don't count your chickens 
yet, Helen," Mark said. "Is din- 
ner ready? I'm plain starved. 
Golfing sure make a fellow hun- 

"I told Johnny to be home by 
six for dinner. It is almost time," 
Helen told him. 

Johnny came in before dinner 
was on the table. He hurried in 
to the bathroom to clean up and 
get out of his ball suit. Helen 
caught a glimpse of him and ex- 
claimed, "Jolmny, you look hke 
you had rolled in the dirt. Don't 
wear that suit again until I take 
it to the cleaners." 

As Johnny took his place at the 
table, Martha knew by his solemn 
face that they had lost their game 
to the Cubs. For once she was 
glad that everyone paid little at- 


MARCH 1964 

tention to him nor questioned 
about the game. Perhaps it might 
be a good idea to get Mark to 
talking again about golf. 

"Your father made quite a hit 
at the golf course today, Johnny," 
Martha said. "Tell us about it, 

Mark obliged by giving a mi- 
nute description of how he teed 
off and survived so many haz- 
ards. He had played eighteen 
holes, he said. 

Helen laughed heartily as Mark 
went on telling how his ball land- 
ed so near the water's edge by a 
little pond that it took a really 
miraculous shot to get it away, 
and it landed safe near a cup. 
Johnny was smiling and as en- 
thusiastic for his father's skill as 
the rest. 

"Boy, I'd like to go and watch 
you play. Dad. Maybe I could 
even caddie for you." 

Just why can't they notice 
Johnny's games that much? Mar- 
tha wondered. 

A few days later, Johnny made 
another effort to gain a bit of 

"I get to pitch for our game 
against the Bears, tonight," he 
said, looking mostly at his grand- 
mother, but watching the rest of 
the family, too. Helen was busy 
starting dinner, and Martha was 
holding the baby. 

"What is your team called?" 
Martha asked. 

"We are the Lions. We have a 
pretty good team, but sometimes 
we are quite tame for Lions. We 
don't beat all our games." 

"Well, neither do the Yankees," 
Martha said. "One must learn to 
be a good loser. That is half of 
the object of playing a game," she 
explained. She knew that Johnny 
was still smarting imder his 
team's last loss. 

"It is a warm afternoon. You 
will be tired riding a bike to the 
park. I will drive you down in 
my car, Johnny. I think I'd like 
to watch the Lions and the Bears 
play. It is a long time since I 
watched boys play ball." Martha 
tried to sound convincing. 

"Oh, I can go. Grandma. You 
don't need to take me." 

Now Martha didn't really know 
whether Johnny was afraid he 
would be a bother to her, or did 
not want to be seen coming to a 
game with just an old lady. 

"I'd sure like you to see our 
game, though," the boy hastened 
to say. 

Helen heard the conversation 
and spoke up promptly, "Good- 
ness, Mother, you would be bored 
stiff. They are just a bunch of 
kids. Thirteen and fourteeners. 
You don't want to go and sit an 
hour or two on those seats. They 
are just board benches and no 
back rests." 

Right now is the time for me to 
speak up to Helen. Right now I 
will tell her that showing your 
interest in a boy's doings when he 
is thirteen and unsure of himself 
and the world he lives in, is more 
important than worrying about a 
hard bench to sit on, or being 
busy with many little trifles, or 
even a round of golf for an adult. 
But no, Helen and Mark must 



learn this for themselves. Martha 
counted ten, then turned to John- 

"You know when my David 
was about your age, I went often 
to watch his team play. He 
pitched sometimes, too. Your 
Mom used to go along. She liked 
to watch her brother play. Don't 
you remember, Helen?" 

''I'm afraid it was Rod Barnes 
I was more interested in than 
Brother Dave or the game. I had 
a kid crush on Rod. He was 
catcher and I thought he was 
cute." Helen laughed, recalling 
the days. 

"You run along, Johnny," 
Martha told him when they 
reached the parking at the ball 
park. "Looks as if they are about 
ready to play." 

Martha felt a bit self-conscious 
coming here, a strange woman 
following a boy along. She 
thought she would let him get on 
the field, then she would saunter 
over to a bench. She found a place 
where she had a good view of the 
batter's box and of the bases. 
There were quite a number of 
watchers there already. Mothers, 
a few fathers, and many young- 
sters the age of the players. 

As she watched Johnny it seemed 
that he knew all the tricks of the 
big league pitchers as far as she 
could tell. He stooped and picked 
up the rosin bag to use on his 
palms, then stood on one foot, 
then turned to view all of the 
bases carefully before he made 
a throw to the batter. 

"Hey! Johnny, that was a swell 

curve you threw," she heard a fan 
call as Johnny came in after the 
first inning. All through the game 
there were cheers for him from 
the crowd. 

No wonder the boy comes home 
all excited and wants his family 
to know about his games. Martha 
hadn't enjoyed anything as much 
as this game for a long time. If 
some of her enthusiasm could just 
seep over to his family! 

"Boy, we just made that game 
by a squeak," Johnny said, as 
they drove home. "Just by two 
runs. I was scared stiff." 

"You did a mighty fine job 
pitching, and you made two of 
the runs, too, if I counted right," 
Martha praised him. 

"I heard you cheering for me. 
Grandma, when I made those 
runs. It sure helps to hear some- 
one cheer," Johnny said. 

"Well, and I heard a lot of 
other folks cheering for you, some 
5aid you threw a good curve, 
and a drop ball, whatever that 

"I wish my folks liked to watch 
me play, like some of the kids' 
parents do. I guess they just don't 
care for baseball. Dad likes golf, 
and Mom is too busy or some- 
thing." Johnny's voice was wist- 
ful, and his eyes held a yearning 
that made Martha have a choke 
come in her throat. 

When they reached home, Hel- 
en was busy talking to Madge 
Call, planning a progressive din- 
ner they were to head next week. 
Mark was cleaning up for dinner. 
Anne was excited about a dance 
program she was in and was 


MARCH 1964 

dancing about the living room, saw the sweet smile that clung 

practicing her new dance steps, to his lips. 

The baby was tired and hungry, "Must have been some playing 
and even Brent's usual toothless Johnny did today," Mark con- 
smile was turned upside down, ceded. "I surely take my hat off 
Someone had accidently broken to a fellow like Dan Hartley who 
one of his model airplanes that will take the trouble to coach a 
afternoon. bunch of kids." 

''Mother is a wonderful cook, "Dan is sure a swell guy," 

Madge, she can help me think up Johnny spoke up then, 
a good recipe. We want something 

special, Mother, for the dessert Martha felt triumphant in the 

for our dinner," Helen said. fact that Johnny's game had 

When things had quieted a bit, taken up ten minutes of the din- 

and the family came to dinner, nertime conversation, so, when 

Martha planned to talk a bit, if Mark quite naturally remem- 

she could hold the floor for a bered that he had been playing 

change. She began before any- that afternoon, too, and needed 

one else had time to get a start some attention, Martha rehn- 

on her. quished her time to him. Mark 

"It was quite a ball game today went into another vivid play-by- 

that Johnny's team played play account of his two rounds of 

against the Bears." Martha raised golf, not missing any of the de- 

her voice a bit louder than usual tails of his great tee-offs. 

to be sure to get attention. Mark is just a httle boy, men 

"You don't mean that you are that way, I guess, but can't 

went, Grandma?" Mark asked in they see that Johnny is a little 

surprise. boy, too? He is their little boy, 

"Certainly, I went, and you Martha said to herself as they left 

should have seen Johnny pitch the table. 

that game. Why he threw out- "Tonight is our last game of 
curves and in-curves and drop this season," Johnny announced 
balls and really kept the batter that last week of Martha's visit, 
guessing. He made two runs, too. "We play the Tigers, and they 
It was two, wasn't it, Johnny, or are the best team of all." 
was it three?" Martha talked on Martha felt a tugging inside 
rapidly, not allowing time for in- her chest of — maybe it was lone- 
terpolations from anyone on any liness at the thought of returning 
other subject. Even Johnny sat home — home where there would 
wide-eyed and smiling as she ex- be only quiet and no worrying 
tolled him. For a moment he was about Johnny and his problems, 
almost believing all she was say- And she was really going to miss 
ing about him. As she stopped hearing the talk of ball and din- 
talking for a moment, he lowered ner parties and even of Mark's 
his eyes modestly, but Martha golf. She was glad, too, that she 



had, so far, held her tongue and "I play on third tonight. I'll 
not really spoken her mind as she feel awful if I let a ball go by 
had been tempted to do so many me. Some of those Tigers are real- 
times here. Now this was John- ly tough," Johnny said, 
ny's last season game. She want- "Lions are fierce, too," Martha 
ed to see him play, but it was pointed out. 

such an important game to win Three of Johnny's teammates 

to come out on top. She felt she came by now on their bicycles, 

could not bear to see Johnny's They called in for Johnny, as 

face if they lost the game. they were all supposed to get to 

"Your last game, you say, the park early for final instruc- 

Johnny?" .Martha repeated. tions. 

"Tonight, did you say, John- ''My Dad is bringing a load of 

ny?" Helen jumped up excitedly folks down in his station wagon 

and started for Johnny's room, later for the game," one of the 

"Your ball suit — IVe had so boys said. 

many things, I simply forgot your "Mom has to pick Dad up at 
suit. I'd be disgraced if you play his office, he gets off just near 
in that dirty suit, your most game time," another boy re- 
important game." marked. 

Martha let Helen finish before Martha noted that Mark and 

she interrupted her. "You won't Helen heard the boys talking and 

have to be disgraced, neither will looked over at each other. She 

Johnny. I hope you will forgive watched Johnny's face, too. It 

my interference, but I had some grew so serious and she thought 

things that needed cleaning be- that he was about to speak. He 

fore I go home, so I took John- wants to ask his father to go to 

ny's suit along." the game, but is too proud to ask 

"Oh, Mother, thanks. I'd sim- when his friends are here. As he 

ply die if he went that dirty," turned back to the boys, Martha 

Helen spoke in relief. spoke. 

"You boys play real hard and 
I'll bet on your winning," she 

After dinner was over, Johnny laughed. "But if you do lose, be 

got into his ball suit. He seemed good losers." 

extra quiet and looked troubled. "Don't talk about losing. We 

Martha, watching him, knew that gotta win this one," the tallest 

he was nervous about the game, boy said. 

"Just play your best, Johnny. "I hardly ever let a swift ball 

If you lose you will know you did pass me now. My Dad has been 

all you could. Do you pitch the throwing balls to me for a week 

game tonight?" now, each evening," one of the 

"Yes, Johnny, you can't do visitors said, 

more than try your best," Mark "Come on, Johnny, or we'll be 

spoke up. late. Let's go." The boys all hur- 


MARCH 1964 

ried away and pedaled down the 

Martha felt a big lump in her 
throat and a stinging in her eyes. 
She wanted so much to see that 
last game. But she knew that it 
wasn't what Johnny wanted 
most. He wanted his parents to 
witness this game. She started 
to leave the room. She heard 
Mark speaking to Helen. 

"What kind of parents has 
Johnny got? Helen, we've got a 
boy playing on that team tonight. 
It's their last game. Did you hear 
Johnny say this is the last one, 
and we haven't been to one?" 

"Yes, I know. We have surely 
let our boy down, Mark." Helen 
was weeping. 

"Well, hurry up everybody. We 
are all going to be at that game," 
Mark spoke hurriedly. 

"But, Mark, didn't you say 
you told Brad you would meet 
him for golf?" 

Mark was already picking up 
the phone. "I'm sorry but I can't 
make it for golf tonight. Brad. 
No — No — I've got a kid play- 
ing ball tonight on the league. 
You see he's already made league 
play, all on his own." 

"I'll be glad to stay with the 
baby," Martha offered. 

"Oh, no, you won't. Grandma. 
Johnny would feel let down if you 
were not there to help us cheer 
for his team," Mark told her. 

"I'll call my regular baby sit- 
ter, Mother. You are coming 
along," Helen said. 

"Yes, and cheer loud every- 
body," Mark called. "Just to see 
Johnny's face when he sees us 
will be worth a million dollars." 

IVIyrtle M. Dean, Provo, Utah, who is already well known to readers of the 
Magazine, tells us that she loves to write. She is a member of the League of 
Utah Writers. Her first story was published in The Relief Society Magazine 
in 1925. "Then, for many years, I was occupied with my young family and 
with Church duties, and so did very little writing. In 1948 I was awarded 
third prize in the Relief Society Short Story Contest, and in 1949 I placed 
second, and second in 1959. I enjoy writing and divide my spare moments 
with genealogical research and writing family histories and short story writing. 
My husband is Charles E. Dean, and we have five children. Our families are 
our chief interest." 


Rowena Jensen Bills 

The brilliance of the sun came forth 

And focused on the walk, 

Snow became silvery lakes; 

And I heard sparrow-talk. 

The trees adorned themselves in buds, 

Insects emerged to sing; 

March winds mellowed to a breeze, 

Heralding the spring. 



Mrs. Esther E. Peterson, a 
native Utahn, Assistant Secre- 
tary of Labor in the Cabinet of 
President Lyndon B. Johnson, 
in January, was given the addi- 
tional post of Special Assistant 
to the President for Consumer 
Affairs, with the special duties 
of ''organizing the consumer and 
making his voice heard." Mrs. 
Peterson now holds the highest 
position in the executive depart- 
ment of the Government ever as- 
signed to a woman. A wife, 
mother, and homemaker, Mrs. 
Peterson has a wide interest and 
special training in many fields of 
social service, and civic and gov- 
ernmental affairs. 

Lesley Frost Ballantine, daugh- 
ter of poet Robert Frost, whose 
death all America mourned in 
1963, has been a teacher, a jour- 
nalist, an author, a bookstore 
proprietor, and a lecturer for the 
State Department in Spain and 
Latin America. In an article in 
the December Redhook, "Our 
Family Christmas," she describes 
a Christmas when the Frost chil- 
dren were young, and she lists 

Ramona W, Cannon 

a group of choice family Christ- 
mas readings that any family 
would find useful. 

Kyung 0. Kim is the only wom- 
an pilot in the Republic of Korea. 
She is now the proud owner of a 
new Piper Colt airplane. The 
project was sponsored by the 
International Organization of 
Women Pilots, by a special com- 
mittee called a "Colt for Kim," 
which was organized through the 
efforts of Mrs. Doris H. Renninger 
of East Norwich, New York, and 
other members of the women 
pilots' organization. 

Lady Clementine Churchill is 
the subject of a biography. My 
Darling Clementine, written by 
Jack Fishman, which is on the 
top-selling list of books in Brit- 
ain, the European Continent, and 
America. Lady Clementine, a 
Grecian-type beauty, has devoted 
her charm, tact, and intelligence 
to her unusual husband, Sir Win- 
ston, and to his turbulent career. 
He proudly acknowledges her 
contributions to his life, hap- 
piness, and success. 



lurnber 3 

>A^e are the 

Latter-day Saint women are the beneficiaries of an inheritance of 
ideals realized; of faith exercised; of virtues richly rewarded; of striv- 
ings fulfilled; of goals finally reached. From the women who pio- 
neered in the beginning days of the Church, the women of today may 
inherit all they will accept of the qualities of womanhood. 

We have received the legacy of hope when to hope seemed fruit- 
less, of ability to accept and overcome, of strength to endure to the 
end, of work unceasing, of loyalty to our Father in heaven, to the 
Church, to loved ones, to each other. This legacy, wisely used, can 
make us rich in blessings in this Hfe and the life to come. 

Ours is an unusually beneficient heritage of love from a God- 
fearing and God-loving ancestry. Ours is the heritage of testimonies 
borne in words and living deeds. Ours is a heritage of courage from 
women who had to summon courage in the depths of adversity and 
trial, sacrifice, and tribulation — courage obtained from sublime faith, 
unwavering determination, and absolute knowledge of the divinity 
of the gospel. 

The early Relief Society women were resourceful in meeting 
the vicissitudes of life in their day. Resourcefulness is a quality 

Anna B. Hart 
Edith S. Elliott 
Florence J. Madsen 
Leone G. Layton 
Blanche B. Stoddard 
Evon W. Peterson 
Aleine M. Young 

Josie B. Bay 
Alberta H. Christensen 
Mildred B. Eyring 
Charlotte A. Larsen 
Edith P. Backman 
Winniefred S. Manwaring 
EIna P. Haymond 

Mary R. Young 
Mary V. Cameron 
Afton W. Hunt 
Wealtha S. Mendenhall 
Pearle M. Olsen 
Elsa T. Peterson 
Fanny S. Kienitz 


(lie S. Spafford, President 
iviarlanne C. Sharp, First Counselor 
Louise W. Madsen, Second Counselor 
Hulda Parker, Secretary-Treasurer 


much needed in our day. They achieved patience in the midst of 
difficulty. Patience is needful to us in our complex lives. They, 
of necessity, became industrious and thrifty, with provident living 
their watchword. Industry and thrift add to our security as we, too, 
strive to be provident homemakers. They learned dependence upon 
the Lord, and prayer guided their lives. Prayer and dependence upon 
the Lord guide us as well. To see the right, the straight and narrow 
path through chaos and confusion was their blessing, and is our desire. 
They had to simplify their lives to a degree perhaps not expected 
of us, but their pattern is one to be followed. 

We in Relief Society are the beneficiaries of the Prophet's vision, 
of a revelation from heaven for the creation of an organization for the 
women of the Church. We are the beneficiaries of inspired plans, 
well-defined policies, and wisely determined procedures. All the 
greatness of the Father's plans for his daughters is ours to enjoy. 

This is our inheritance; not to be squandered but to be built 
upon. This is our treasure; not to be buried, but to be increased. 
This is our inspiration; not to be snuffed as a candle, but followed 

— L. W.M. 

Elizabeth B. Winters 
LaRue H. Resell 
Jennie R. Scott 
Alice L. Wilkinson 
LaPriel S. Bunker 
Irene W. Buehner 
Irene C. Lloyd 

Hazel S. Cannon 
Hazel S. Love 
Fawn H. Sharp 
Celestia J. Taylor 
Anne R. Gledhill 
Belva Barlow 
Zola J. McGhie 

Oa J. Cannon 
Lila B. Walch 
Lenore C. Gundersen 
Marjorie C. Pingree 
Darlene C. Dedekind 
Cleone R. Eccles 


The American Red Cross and Its Blood Donor Program 


Perkins McGuire 

Volunteer National Co-Chairman 

1964 Campaign for Members and Funds 

The Americ^ Nationa^ Red Cross 

The keys to the success of the Red Cross Blood program are the 
individual donor and the spirit of giving which motivates him to make 
an investment in living. It is this same universal spirit of brother- 
hood which makes the humanitarian work of the Red Cross possible 
everywhere in the world. This makes it possible for the American 
Red Cross to operate the largest blood program in the world, totally 
through voluntary donors, providing about fifty per cent of the whole 
blood used in the Nation. 

To help keep pace with the increased blood needs of the Nation 
brought on by rises in population and medical advances, the Red 
Cross is carrying on extensive research in three broad areas: main- 
taining a rare blood donor file; long-time preservation of blood by 
freezing; and research in fractionation — the discovery and refinement 
of blood components which are necessary in certain diseases. Gamma 
globulin prevents and modifies some diseases; serum albumin com- 
bats shock; fibrinogen controls hemorrhaging in certain conditions. 

The gift of blood is a two-way miracle which heals the receiver, 
and blesses the giver with the wonderful satisfaction that can come 
only from helping someone else to live. 

Announcing the Special April Short Story Issue 

The April 1964 issue of The Relief Society Magazine will be the special short 
story number, with four outstanding short stories being presented. All of the 
authors of these stories are being featured as story writers for the first time 
in the Magazine, and their places of residence indicate the widespread geo- 
graphical distribution of Latter-day Saint women interested in contributing to 
The Relief Society Magazine. Watch for these stories in April: 

"More Blessed to Receive," by Nita Ellis, Penarth, Glamorganshire, South | 

"The Storm," by Lila Spencer, Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada 
"Please, Not This One," by Merle E. Feriante, San Mateo, California 
"Be Yourself," by Betty G. Spencer, American Fork, Utah 


Don't you 
love your 


Margaret Russell 

We were standing on our respec- 
tive porches, chatting. I, broom 
in hand, had just remarked on 
the lovely day. She had agreed 
that it was indeed lovely and, 
pulling on gloves, mentioned that 
she was going to see her sister. 

I said, "Wonderful! I envy 

She said, "You should. My 
sister is a doll." Then, obviously 
speaking from the heart, she said 

"Don't you just love your 
sisters r' 

The remark warmed me at 
the time and has rewarmed me 
many times since. I have come 

to the conclusion that the sister 
relationship is one of the very 
precious things of this world. 

I was third in a family of five 
girls, so I have always had sisters. 
One of my first memories involves 
hiding behind a door after a 
punishment, with a hand sudden- 
ly reaching around with an offer- 
ing of candy. I can also remember 
walking to that exciting, but 
rather frightening place known 
as school, with that same hand 
firmly holding mine. And I can 
recall quite clearly — the mo- 
ment still generates a glow — 
a tiny sister sitting on my moth- 
er's lap, smiling and holding out 
her hands. 

We were a noisy, active group. 
My father taught school in small 
Wyoming towns, and we were 
always piling into the car to take 
a trip up to Five Springs or out 
into the badlands. Once we took 
a wrong turning and became lost, 
going on and on into the night 
with the headhghts boring into 
the darkness and the stars blaz- 
ing out above. After a time the 
moon rose. It was enormous and 


MARCH 1964 

deep red in color. Somewhere on age and to "do" hair. She also 

the mountain there was a forest directed the singing in the Pri- 

fire! The car became very still, mary at eleven years of age and 

with only an occasional, cryptic played the piano a year or two 

remark from one of our parents later. She is presently a resident 

to break the silence. Suddenly, of Albuquerque where she gives 

without any need for consulta- away everything she owns that 

tion, we girls joined hands and isn't nailed down. She remem- 

bowed our heads in prayer. bers birthdays, keeps family rec- 

We loved to sing and did so ords, and is, I can say without 

almost every evening. To this equivocation, the kindest, most 

day, five minutes after any two thoughtful individual I have ever 

or more of us get together, the known. 

house is likely to be bursting Orvilla, the fourth one of our 

with song. group, had blue eyes and dark 

My oldest sister was very pop- hair worn in ringlets. Mother 
ular with the boys. She was very dampened the hair every morn- 
popular with me, also, as she ing and brushed the ringlets 
was almost never without a box into place around her finger, 
of candy, often the kind with anchoring them with bobby pins. 
Brazil nuts in the middle. She On below-zero, Big-Hom-Moun- 
had a difficult time, though, in tains mornings these ringlets 
many ways, because our parents would become white with frost, 
being still young and tense, were The other distinctive thing about 
determined to do their full duty Orvilla was the way she broke 
by her. Any small misdemeanor things. It was always understood 
found Plet sitting, cringing, on a that she was never under any 
chair while the law was explained circumstances to be allowed to 
to her in no uncertain fashion, carry anything breakable. I can 
Today Plet is a very special per- remember plodding along a dirt 
son, lovely to look at and to talk road one day with a httle pest 
to, capable and womanly always, hopping and jumping about be- 
AU I can say is — scoldings and side me, coaxing and coaxing to 
chocolates must be magic thera- carry the mayonnaise. "I'll be so 
py! careful. I'll hold it so tight and 

My second sister was very par- walk just like this. Oh come on, 
ticular about her drawer. I am please . . . ." Finally I gave it to 
positive that she had the position her, and two seconds later she 
of each article duly measured and tripped over a rock and broke it. 
recorded, because I can recall Orvilla lives today in California, 
investigating with the greatest of in a small ward. She has a black- 
care and still having to flee for board in her kitchen that is al- 
my life later. Carol was always ways filled with notations of the 
very efficient and talented. She things she had to do this week, 
learned to bake bread at an early She writes rather droll, tongue- 



in-cheek letters about the goings- the least degree critical of any- 

on in the Golden State. one. 

Ruth was our baby. She still is. These, then, are my sisters. My 
I wonder if it's this way with blood sisters. Any time I see any 
all families. We five have been one of them I am gloriously 
adults for many years, but Plet happy, and we talk, talk, talk, 
is still the "big'' sister, and Ruth And now I come to the thought 
is the ''baby." We look to Plet that inspired this article, 
for a certain amount of guidance I was sitting in Relief Society 
and are all rather free with our one Tuesday, enjoying and be- 
advice to Ruth. Anyway, be that ing mellowed by an exceptionally 
as it may, Ruth was a very satis- fine social science lesson. My 
factory little one, singing about eye fell on one sister who is so 
"Master, the tempest is raging; stalwart and good, upon sisters 
the pillows are tossing high," who have devoted their lives to 
and other interesting things. She others, a sister who has three 
was always bringing cats home sons on missions; the members of 
and producing them from be- our presidency, who shoulder so 
hind her back with a heartfelt uncomplainingly the heavy bur- 
ple-e-ese! This method had never dens of work that their offices 
worked with us older girls, but entail, whose sweet spirits do 
it did with Ruth. It's a wonder, much to insure that our meet- 
though, that we didn't kill her. ings are always inspirational and 
By the time she came along the worthwhile. As I looked at these 
rest of us were climbing the cot- sisters and the many other dear 
tonwoods and walking the ridge- ones present that day, I felt the 
pole of the barn with no trouble same glow of love, the same 
at all. As soon as Ruth could spiritual closeness that I feel for 
toddle we dragged her along. I my physical sisters. And I re- 
was so used to romping around alized, as I mentioned earlier, 
on top of the bam that I could the preciousness of the relation- 
not understand why neighbor ship, and felt extremely blessed 
children acted nervous, or why for having sisters in such abun- 
Ruth slipped once and hung, her dance. 

skirt attached to a nail on the The picture came to me of 

edge of the roof, until rescued. Relief Societies meeting all over 

Ruth now has six little ones of the world all of them attended 

her own. We talk together on the by women who are striving to 

phone nearly every day, and her live the principles of the gospel, 

remarks are always interspersed all united by a spiritual tie. How 

with little "careful-there-Louis" wonderful it is to be associated 

and "well-go-get-the-mop, dear." together! I am sure that all of 

She has an almost limitless ca- you, everywhere, say it with me. 

pacity for love and patience and Love our sisters? Oh, indeed, 

she is never, believe it or not, in indeed we do. 







Margaret Woods 
Wallsall, Staffordshire, England 

The old lady sat rocking in her chair before the open window. This 
had been such a strange country to her once. Many years ago, she 
had left behind well-known and dear associations, in order to seek 
greater happiness and love. The new life had sometimes caused her 
pain and many sacrifices, but now she had come to think of England 
as home. 

Blackbird was one of her delights, these days. He would sit on 
an adjacent roof and peep at her through the kitchen window or 
perch on the huge stone by the path, and almost demand his break- 

''Vat a child he is," the old lady would say to herself as she 
took corn and soaked bread out to the lawn in the back garden. 
"I'll go and dig for vorms later on, zen he can really enjoy himself." 

One day, when she went out to feed the waiting birds, the 
garden glistened with frost. The bare branches now wore attractive 
white garments and the fence, along which the sparrows perched, 
was swathed in delicately frosted spiders' webs. It all looked so 
beautiful; but the ground was hardening and the lily pond was 
thinly frozen over. 

''Neffer mind," said the old lady, "you shall have all the scraps 
of fat and I'll buy some suet for you, ven I go to town." 

The winter progressed and soon the snow hung heavily on the 
roof tops, but the old lady faithfully kept her promises to the black- 
bird. It was a difficult task. The scavengers and birds of prey would 
spot the food and seize it the minute it was placed outside and, in 
order to protect himself, blackbird hid in the bushes, waiting his 
opportunity. This made it hard work for the old lady. She expended 



herself to the limit in persisting to place new food on her lawn the 
minute the last meal was devoured. In this way, blackbird and the 
more timid ones, such as dainty thrush and cheeky robin, were 
able to pick up the crumbs that were left after the attack of the 
tough fellows was over. 

The morning came, however, when the old lady could not leave her 
bed. She tried, desperately, but the pain in her chest and the weight 
of her limbs was too great. 

''You won't forget to feed my blackbird, will you?*' she would 
say to those who came to tend her each day. But she knew that 
although the bird would be fed, as she had asked, that it needed the 
continual feeding of one who really cared and loved to be sure that 
the weaker ones received enough. 

''How is blackbird faring? Has he been seen today?" 

But others did not share her interest, although she knew they 
meant well. 

The time came when the old lady was well again and able to 
leave her bed. She looked repeatedly for her beloved bird, but he 
never came. 

"He must be finding his food elsewhere,'* she decided. "He has 
forgotten how I loved and cared for him. He might be ... . Oh, no! 
Not that. "But she wondered if he could have died from hunger be- 
cause of the neglect of other people. She hoped not and continued 
to place food outside each day. 

Then, one morning, she saw robin hopping about, eyeing the 
food from a distance. Retreating quickly to the house, she stood in 
the shadows and watched through her kitchen window. To her de- 
light, she saw him — her blackbird. She knew it was he because of 
the odd little way he drooped one wing. He had come back! Oh! 
How happy she was. She wanted to rush out to him, but knew she 
must wait for him to become tame again. It would be a slow process, 
but if she was careful and diligent, he would again peep at her 
through the window and peck the tidbits she dug up for him. 

She spent the springtime in fostering again his love and was 
pleased to see his gentle brown wife. The leggy thrushes and robin 
redbreasts were now also frequent visitors to her garden, along with 
the many, inevitable sparrows. 

One mild, summer evening, she sat rocking in her chair by 
the open window. There had been a gentle rain shower which had 
refreshed the flowers and leaves, and now the red evening sun 
splashed the western sky. The old lady's heart filled with gratitude 
and pleasure as she heard what was to her the most beautiful sound 
in all the world — the song of blackbird as he sat high in the 
elder tree, flinging his regained message to the wide, glowing sky. 


insiae cina ou 

Who Plants a Garden? 

Eva Willes Wangsgaard 

I love a flower garden. Gardens hold 

Our yesterdays, todays, and coming years. 

Who plants a garden watches time unfold 

As sharply pointed as the iris spears. 

Her loving hands preside at beauty's birth. 

She sees a plan become a living scene 

Replete with color rooted deep in earth 

As warm as flame or cool as ivy green. 

She garners strength and peace of mind from soil, 

Becomes an intimate with sun and wind, 

Forgets her pain, her sorrow, and her toll, 

Renews her faith, herself is disciplined. 

A gardener's eyes reveal a forward look 

And patience learned from wisdom's ancient book. 

World's Favorite 


Dorothy J. Roberts 

Of all the flowers on the earth, the rose has probably had the 
longest and closest association with man. It is believed to be the 
first flower brought under cultivation and has the most extensive 
written record, dating back thousands of years. 

Rose — the word is the mother of romance and legend. It is the 
symbol of perfection and love. Roses graced the gardens of kings 
and climbed the cottages of the poor. Roses are a part of our life and 
our heritage. People, places, and things wear the word rose in their 
names. Roses abound in literature and music, as well as in the 
gardens of the world. They are grown extensively, not only for their 
beauty but for perfume and flavorings, for medicines and vitamin 
C content of the rose hips. 


MARCH 1964 

It is believed that the rose originated in Central Asia; then 
spread to North America, to west Asia Minor, and Europe. There is 
evidence that a garden rose was cultivated in Greece about the fifth 
century B.C. and in Chinese gardens a.d. 1000. 

The Moors, invading Spain, brought with them roses they had 
discovered in Syria. One was the first yellow rose to appear in 
Europe, the climbing Cathay Rose. Crusaders brought back roses; 
merchants carried roses from country to country, and from con- 
tinent to continent. Out of the long and tangled history of the rose 
some facts emerge. Though most wild roses are pink or white, 
wall paintings in Crete, 4000 years old, -depict the "Persian Yellow" 

Gardeners all over the world have cultivated and crossed and 
recrossed roses to bring us finally the magnificent hybrid tea roses, 
the reigning queens of our gardens today. 

The horticultural named varieties are divided loosely into two 

1. The Hybrid Perpetuals (the old garden roses) 

2. The Hybrid Tea Roses — now the world's favorite roses (these 
include climbers and tree roses) . 

The rose of the year 1964 is the magnificent "World's Fair 
Salute," a rich red beauty of perfect form. This rose, with previous 
"Roses of the Year" — "South Seas," "Tropicana" — and others 
will be on special exhibit at the World's Fair in New York. 


Buy good stock. Consult your nurseryman if disease develops. 
Water deeply once a week. Have good drainage. If you sprinkle, 
do so early enough in the day so that the bushes will dry before 
sunset to avoid mildew. Slipping roses can be very successful. For 
a slip, either tear off or clip off a stem from a most beautiful rose — 
with six sets of leaves. Clip off the three bottom leaves; now plant 
so that only the three top leaves are above ground. Cover with an 
inverted glass jar and keep damp until the second year. Put a thin 
wash of mud in the bottle in the hot summer months to temper 
the sun. These "bottle-babies" can be transplanted. Libraries can 
acquaint you further with the vast world of roses. 

Some gardeners recommend afternoon as the best time for 
cutting roses for bouquets. Plunge them into lukewarm water — 
never cold — up to their necks. Change them daily to fresh, luke- 
warm water. 




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"Pink Parfait," one of the 1961 winners, is particularly showy for mass 
planting. It bears abundantly; has pink petals, frosted with white at tips and 
base, and is beautiful in bud and as a full-bloom rose, with its gold heart and 
its curled, white-frosted petals. 



"Tropicana," 1963 winner, has won the most prizes — thirteen international 
awards. Seldom a new color bursts on the world of roses, and in such a perfect 
plant — a brilliant, almost fluorescent, pure orange- red. Medium large, very 
full, fragrant, very vigorous, tall; tough, glossy foliage. Non-fading. May 
attain the popularity of **Peace." 




"South Seas," 1962 winner, is very 
large and a very full, warm, rich pink, 
faintly washed with deeper pink. 
Beautiful from bud to maturity, very 
hardy, disease and mildew- resistant, 
as are all award winners, tested for 
years before marketing. Blooms pro- 

"Peace," 1945 winner from France, 
named at close of World War II, 
with a 9.6 rating of a possible 10 
points, is still the world's most popu- 
lar rose. Light to deep yellow, with 
pale to deep cerise pink toward petals' 
edges, fading almost to white and 
pale pink in maturity. Very vigorous, 
very large, very full, deep green, 
glossy foliage. Profuse bloom. 






Curled in Seed 

Alice Morrey Bailey 

More than beauty wraps these slopes in white 
From creek to peak, from crag to river-bed. 
A blanket, this, against the winter night, 
Suspending floods from which the streams are fed. 
And snug beneath, in caves and hollow trees. 
The mountain mothers feed their young. The pine 
Is printed in the nut, honey-drowsed are bees. 
And curled in seed Is fragile columbine. 

And soon the sun's slow wheeling toward the north 
Will melt the sterile waste deep to the roots. 
When bright-eyed babies of the woods come forth, 
And limbs are tender-green with new-leafed shoots, 
These hills will burst to life, for down below, 
Awaiting warmth, is spring in embryo. 




with Glass 

Florian H. Thayn 

VS^HAT does a thrifty, talented woman do with old broken glass 
dishes, empty pop bottles, or scraps of colored glass? In College 
Park Ward, Washington Stake, she saves them, guards them jealously, 
and sorts them carefully into dozens of shoe boxes! If a long- 
suffering husband, who has patiently seen her through the tin-can- 
used-flash-bulb-tree-ornament phase, asks Why? she calmly explains: 
"A lovely picture is being created from practically nothing." From 
there the conversation gets more complicated, or unbelievable, de- 
pending upon his past experiences with unfinished projects! 



Pictures from glass are a creation of Betty Beesley Huber, ward 
work meeting leader. It all began over two years ago when she 
visioned the artistic possibilities of the use of tiny pieces of glass 
to create a three-dimensional mosaic picture lovely enough to hang 
in simple rooms, or sufficiently striking to decorate lavish homes 
and offices. Her daughter, Sharon Huber Carter, sketched the de- 
signs, and from the ideas of this mother-daughter team have grown 
a most unusual activity for the College Park Relief Society and 
a blossoming business for the Huber-Carter team. 

The process for this art is the result of much study and experi- 
mentation. Nearly a year was spent finding the proper adhesive. 
The popular glues commonly used by housewives to mend broken 
dishes and wobbly furniture failed, as did the cements and epoxy 
glues. Finally, a jeweler's cement was found, which, when properly 
applied, holds the glass secure. 

Collecting the Glass 

As with most arts, it is the time that is the expense. Hours and 
hours have been spent collecting the glass and processing it. The 
most easily obtained colors in glass are found in broken bleach 
bottles and in green soft-drink bottles. The bright blue found in 
magnesia bottles and other containers is a favorite color. The pinks 
found in cheap dishes from second hand stores or in variety stores are 
most welcome. One sister brought in the parts of a once lovely orange 
iridescent bowl and said her sorrow at breaking it faded when 
she realized she could use it in the pictures! Sister Huber accidentally 
broke a family heirloom, a cut glass bowl, which couldn't be mended. 
The pictures that have bits of that bowl in the design are a pioneer 

Another sister enlisted her relatives and spent part of her vaca- 
tion time gathering glass in Upstate New York. A broken chandeHer 
she found in the attic of an old hotel supplied the marbleized ''cobble- 
stones" for a fifty-two inch long picture, Camelot. She also discovered 
a discarded automobile windshield that broke perfectly into honey- 
combed pieces. The glass was used to give depth and texture to a 
delightful seahorse. 

While much of the glass is obtained without cost, unusual and 
bright colors are expensive purchases from stained glass dealers. 
The milk-white glass of broken milk glass or from face cream jars 
gave a jolly clown perfect "makeup." About the only glass that is 
not satisfactory is the clear white kind found in most kitchen 
tumblers, jelly glasses, or white pop bottles, because there is no 
reflection or depth from such glass. Some colored marbles have been 
used (when broken in smaller pieces), as special accents. 

Preparing the Glass 

The accumulated glass is placed in a 450-500° oven for 30 to 
40 minutes to heat it thoroughly. Carefully it is removed with 
kitchen tongs and hot pads and immediately plunged into a bucket 
of cold water. The intense heating and quick cooling cause the glass 
to spackle and to break easily without causing sharp needle splinters 
that result when unheated glass is pounded. 

For ease in sorting, only one color of glass should be placed 
in a bucket at a time, but several pieces may be chilled at one time. 
(There have been no accidents, since caution has always been used 
in removing the hot glass from the oven. A lid may be placed over 
the bucket in case the cracking glass jumps.) 

The cold glass is placed on pads of newspapers, and the flat 
side of a hammer is used to break it into small pieces. Again, caution 
should be used. Small children should be kept away from this pro- 
cess. Even the glass that is nearly powdered in the breaking process 
is saved and used. In this project, there just isn't any waste! 


Preparing the Picture Background 

The next step is to obtain a sturdy picture frame. Brother Ralph 
Huber was recruited to miter comers and to make some odd-dimen- 
sioned frames, but the sisters also searched many fun hours in second- 
hand shops and old barns, and watched for sales to find the coveted 
frames at the best prices. The frames must be sufficiently strong 
to hold the weight of the glass and the plywood backing to which 
the glass is glued. 


"Painting" the Glass Picture 

A white or egg-shell, plain textured drapery fabric has been 
found the most satisfactory background on which to work. The 
material is tacked and glued to plywood cut to fit the frame. The 
outline of the design is lightly sketched in pencil on the cloth, and 
then the tedious, but rewarding task of placing the hundreds of 
pieces of glass begins. The design is first laid out without glue so 
that it can be altered and changed to satisfy one's artistic taste. It 
is important to know where and how the glass should be placed 
before the glue is applied because, once the glue is on, the pieces 
are there to stay. Care must be used to keep any glue off the fabric 
where no glass is desired. 

The glass does not adhere well if too large pieces are used, or 
if plenty of glue is not used, or if the glue is not also placed on ad- 
joining pieces. By using many small pieces close together, the effect 
of feathers, wind in ships' sails, or various textures can be achieved. 
Sometimes the glass seems to be placed two or three layers deep, 
but this illusion comes from the variations in the thickness of the 

As the placing of the glass progresses, pieces often must be 
broken to obtain the correct size. To keep the tiny bits from escaping 
and damaging floors where the work is done. Sister Huber contrived 
a 12" X 12" wooden box with high sides and a raised platform inside 
to give the hammering sisters a restricted area in which to "break 
and search!" 

Generally, the pictures have the most appeal with the cloth 
background left bare, but a most attractive, old-fashioned bouquet 
design was given depth and real importance when the entire back- 
ground was filled with the pale blue-white found in a heavy soft 
drink bottle. Gold accents are painted on. 

Finally, the completed picture is tried in the frame to determine 
the color of paint, varnish, or finish that will complement the picture. 
Many of the design ideas are from advertisements, but many artistic 
sisters made up their own. It is of prime importance to keep the 
design simple and uncluttered, and careful planning will determine 
whether your picture is a craft or a lovely work of art. It can be a 
family project, with father and the older boys sawing the plywood 
and fitting the frames. The tiniest tot can watch for colored glass 
bottles to help make a friendly clown, a lovable teddy bear, or a 
panting puppy. 

A strutting red rooster of undetermined breed seemed just 
right for a provincial room. When he was duplicated in shades of 
cobalt blue and kelly green, he was as modern as tomorrow's weather 
forecast. A huge eagle with his wings spread has been a repeat best 
seller. Colored shdes are taken of each picture when it is finished. 
These serve as a pattern for duplicate orders. 

{continued on page 238) 



Parleys Sixth Ward 

Country Fair Bazaar 

VaLora M. Anderson 

The success of this bazaar was due to the cooperation and all-out 
effort of the sisters of Parleys Sixth Ward — newly organized from 
parts of two other wards only six weeks prior to the bazaar. (An- 
other ward in Parleys Stake lent the booths to this ward.) 

The willingness of the sisters to serve brought about a closeness 
and spiritual unity that welded together the two groups of our new 
ward, and was, we felt, a blessing to our newly organized Relief 

The following list of sales indicates the popularity of various items: 

Candy Booth $ 345.00 

ChiH and Hot Dogs 45.00 

Ham 53.00 

Salad 47.00 

Soft Drinks 45.38 

Pizza Pies 59.50 

Desserts 46.80 

Bakery 38.90 

Bazaar 1,420.00 

TOTAL $ 2,100.58 




The curved booths, with pink and white canopies, display a variety of items. 
On the wall at the extreme right are two children's red and white striped 
pajamas with night caps. To the left of these pajamas are several muumuus 
and handmade aprons. 

On the counter are displayed a tree of nylon scouring pads for bathrooms, 
handmade and hand-decorated bedroom sets for dolls, together with mattress, 
sheets, bedspreads and pillows. There were twelve sets of these sold at $15 
for each set, and many more could have been sold. 

On the floor to the right is an old-fashioned metal tub, painted black with 
a bright design. This is perfect as a picnic container. Filled with ice, it will 
keep soda pop and watermelon cold. Several old-fashioned milk stools and a 
butter tub, decorated in Pennsylvania Dutch designs, are on the floor in front 
of the table. At the extreme right is a handmade doll for a child's bed. 



Mary Riley, Parleys Sixth Ward Relief Society President, shows a hand- 
painted bucket of pink popcorn balls. In this colorful booth, trimmed with 
candy-striped chintz and scalloped in white fringe, stands a green symbolic 
pine tree, with three sets of shelves. On these shelves, and on the booth table, 
are candy containers of many different sizes and shapes, displaying the 
attractively arranged candies. 

There are many delicious varieties — Mint Puffs, Chocolate Fudge, Virginia 
Caramels, Pecan Rolls, Peanut Brittle, and assorted Chocolates. Hanging 
from the poles, are decorated suckers for the children. 

All this candy was handmade by the Relief Society sisters. 



The Relief Society room and the ward cultural hall were the scene of Parleys 
Country Fair. 

The middle of the hall was filled with round-top tables covered with red table- 
cloths. The centerpieces were wicker sleighs pulled by two reindeer, and filled 
with small pine boughs and bright-colored Christmas balls. These centerpieces 
were all sold at $6 each for home Christmas decorations. 

The walls of the hall were lined with nine booths, covered with red-and-white 
and green-and-white candy-striped canopies, fringed in white. From these 
booths food was served. Two of these booths are seen at the left of the picture. 

There was barbecued beef in one booth, and chili and hot dogs in another 
booth — and ham sandwiches made from piping hot homemade bread in 
another. Pizza pies, baked while the ward members watched, were delicious 
and popular. From the salad booth, tossed green and fruit salads were kept 
cold on ice trays. One booth sold soft drinks and milk. Pie and cake a la mode 
and ice cream cones for the children were served at the dessert booth. 



. ;»1 

1^ii%/ "^^^ 

»*» J* 

.>v» f 

^. %: 


The colorful Christmas items are attractively displayed in the Relief Society 
room. On the walls are several sheer aprons. To their right are children's prayer 
reminders. On the red streamer are tied white buttons and a written poem 
which says, "Every night when your prayers are said, take off a button and 
hop in bed." 

At the right, on the table, is a wooden cookie tree which can be used as a 
tray. Two butter tubs of different sizes, painted in Pennsylvania Dutch, 
catch the eye. These may be used for toys, or sewing containers. In the smaller 
tub are large Santa pencils. Between the tubs are green and gold turtle pillows, 
with a music box inside of each one. To the extreme left is a tree filled with 
finger puppets and Santa doorknob holders. 

The Advent calendar on the front of the tablecloth is made of burlap with 
many colored pockets. In each pocket is a trim-the-tree gift, to be pinned 
on the Christmas tree each night. In front of the table, on a stool, is a sewing 
tree. To the right of the stool stands an end table done in Pennsylvania Dutch 
design. Perhaps the folding Christmas tree, with its display of Christmas 
paper plates, Advent calendars, and hand-painted cups of crayons for the 
children attracts the attention as much as any part of the general display. 


Planning a 
Successful Bazaar 

Counselor Louise W. Madsen 


A very careful organization of all of the details of every aspect of the 
bazaar, is of first importance in planning a successful bazaar. The 
Relief Society presidency make "the first decisions, based upon a con- 
sideration of what they hope to accompHsh, what they have observed 
from experience of past bazaars, what they have learned from observ- 
ing other bazaars, and what the sisters in their society would learn 
from their participation in bazaar preparation. The presidency over- 
sees the entire proceedings, such as setting the date, delegating the 
responsibilities, and how to report procedures. 

A General Chairman is selected, a very efficient sister, with a 
talent for organization and the faculty of arousing enthusiastic co- 
operation from the members. Other chairmen will be needed to work 
under her direction. Chairmen for various activities, and for the 
groups of articles to be produced may be called into the work. The 
following suggested divisions may be helpful: a Sewing Chairman in 
charge of certain articles to be sewed and helpful also in the purchase 
of materials; a Publicity Chairman, a Bake Sale Chairman, a Candy 
Booth Chairman, an Apron Chairman, a Quilting Chairman, a Toy 
Chairman, a Children's Clothing Chairman, a Dolls and Doll Clothes 
Chairman, a Household Linens Chairman, a Christmas Articles Chair- 
man, a Dinner Chairman (if dinner is to be served), a Women's Booth 
Chairman, a Men's Booth Chairman, and as many others as it is 
decided will be needed. 

These chairmen would form the bazaar committee. The com- 
mittee plans to use every available sister in some capacity, so that all 
will lend support and have a personal interest in the success of the 


The most attractive bazaars are planned around a theme or a 
plan of decoration which extends to all booths and unifies the whole 
procedure. There are Christmas Fairs, Harvest Fairs, Fall or Back- 
to-School Round-Ups, Spring Festivals, to mention only a few. 


MARCH 1964 


The success of a bazaar is very largely determined by the quality, 
the quantity, the usefulness, the desirability, the beauty, the unusual- 
ness, the workmanship, and the attractiveness of articles for sale. 

A wise presidency has a record of the items found to be best- 
sellers in previous bazaars. The same articles, somewhat redesigned, 
usually sell well again. 

Plan to prevent leftovers by a careful screening of samples of 
all proposed articles. Have the general committee assist in judging 
the worth of each before making more. 

Find some items that cost nothing and bring a clear profit, such 
as house plants propagated by the sisters in a long-range plan. ''White 
elephants," old jewelry, old hats, and such things are also profitable. 

An ''assembly line" technique is often a great time saver. Many 
articles can be produced in one work meeting with this procedure. 


There are many ways to make a bazaar a very pleasurable ex- 
perience. One is, of course, the beauty and attractiveness of the 
displays. There are women in every ward with artistic ability, color 
sense, and originality who could create charming backgrounds and 
place articles effectively. 

If you expect your patrons to buy their dinner, keep their com- 
fort in mind. How much better it is to have tables set up and dec- 
orated in your theme style, even if food is procured from booths set 
up around the hall, than to have people stand in long lines waiting 
to be handed a paper plate through the kitchen window. It is diffi- 
cult for parents of young children to feed their families this way. 
Men usually dislike such procedures. Elderly people feel unsure in 
such a situation. 

Use your best and most charming sales ladies! Ask them to 
demonstrate and point out the quality of items. 


A small pricing committee is often used for this important job. 
Pricing is difficult and takes time and wisdom. Two things to be con- 
sidered are the amount of material in the article and the amount 
and quality of the work. The ability of the people in the area to pay 
is a prime consideration also. Articles underpriced are profit-losers; 
articles overpriced are a deterrent to sales. There should be many 
articles in the low price range, from 25^ to $2.00. 

Price tags should be attached to every item. Don't depend on 
the memory of the sales lady. Cater to the browsing instinct of 




We live in a publicity age. It is a wise chairman who will use 
all of the publicity ideas from every source available; posters, win- 
dow displays, letters, individual post cards, printed fliers, radio, tele- 
vision, telephone, newspaper, and personal contact, 

A personal invitation, interestingly worded and illustrated, helps 
in attracting attendance and puts the date, time, and place in written 
form for easy remembrance. 

With all of this careful planning your bazaar will be successful! 

The following invitation was used by Parleys Sixth Ward. 




AND you'll 

FIND ?ou're 'oouch' ahead if you bring them all to the 

Wonderful Ward Bazaar for dinner 6 p.m., Friday 

November I5. 

YOU'VE NEVER 'HERD' of such 
BUYS ON food — appealing to every appetite — and if you're 


Dishes to do) the Relief Society has prepared fabulous 


Christmas shopping. 

AND THAT'S NOT ALL! The great 
FILM, "Windows of Heaven", produced by the Church, will be 
shown several Times during the evening. This inspirational 



BE A DEAR! Bring your 'doe' and have a lot of 




1 tbsp. gelatin 
Va c. cold water 


Ingrid W. Olsen 

^/3 c. scalded table cream 
^3 c. powdered sugar 

Vi c. whipping cream 
^V2 tsp. vanilla 

6 ladyfingers 
whipped cream 
for garnishing 

Soak gelatin in cold water. Dissolve in 
scalded cream and strain. Add sugar and 
vanilla. Set bowl in cold water and stir until 
thick. Fold in whipping cream. 

Line another bowl with ladyfingers and 
pour the mixture into the lined bowl. Top 
with whipped cream. 

Desserts That Please the Family 

Florence K. Gates 


12 large egg yolks 
12 tbsp. sugar 
2 tsp. vanilla 
6 c. milk 
V2 tsp. salt 

Add sugar and salt to 5V2 c. milk. Mix 
well and scald; pour over egg yolks which 
have been slightly beaten with V2 c. of the 
milk. Add vanilla and strain into 2-quart 
casserole. Sprinkle top of custard with nut- 

Set casserole in pan of hot water and bake 
at 350° until firm — about 45 to 55 minutes. 
(Place on middle rack of oven so water in 
pan will not boil.) 

Smaller amounts can be made by using 
basic recipe: 

V2 c. milk 

1 egg yolk 


1 tbsp. sugar 

spk. salt 


Follow directions above. 


12 large egg whites 0% to 2 c.) 
1 c. plus 2 tbsp. sifted cake flour 

IVa c. sugar 

V4 tsp. salt 

IVa tsp. cream of tartar 

1 tsp. vanilla or V2 tsp. lemon extract 

Va tsp. almond extract 

Sift V2 c. of the sugar and flour 4 times. 
Add salt to egg whites and whip until frothy; 
add cream of tartar and continue whipping; 
add extract and 1 c. of sugar gradually. 
Whip until whites are stiff but not dry, and 
will stand in peaks. Fold in flour and sugar 
mixture carefully. 

Pour into large ungreased angel food cake 
pan and place in oven on center rock. Bake 
35 minutes at 350° in preheated oven. 

Take from oven and invert pan until cold 
before removing. 


3 c. powdered sugar 

4 tbsp. butter 
1 egg yolk 
dash of salt 

1 tbsp. grated lemon rind 

1 tbsp. grated orange rind 

1 tbsp. orange juice 

1 tsp. lemon juice 

Cream butter, sugar, salt. Add egg yolk 
and other ingredients and whip until smooth 
and fluffy. 

(For a more elegant cake frost with 7- 
minute icing and coconut.) 



Blanche M. 

Helen Hurley was making cook- 
ies, but her heart really wasn't in 
the process today. She had rolled 
the dough out and had opened the 
drawer for the cookie cutter, when 
she saw the cutouts for the horse, 
the rabbit, the chicken, and the 
gingerbread man. These were the 
ones Bobby liked to use when he 
helped with the cookies, but, she 
thought, it would look silly for me 
to make animal cookies for just John 
and me. 

With a deep sigh, she put them 
back in the drawer and cut the 
dough in regular round cookies. 

Bobby had always been on hand 
for cookie making. No matter what 
else he was doing, he would come 
running at cookie baking time. 

''Is it time to cut them out. 
Mama?" he would ask a dozen times 
during the process. ''Can I put the 
raisin eyes in now?" 

With regret in her heart and near 
to tears, she remembered the times 

when she had thought she was just 
too busy to be bothered with him. 
She was always in such a hurry, it 
seemed, and it took time to let him 
cut the animals out and put eyes in. 

Too busy? What had she been 
thinking of? Actually, it took only 
a minute or two to cut them out, 
and she remembered how happy he 
was to help her, and how proud he 
was when he showed the baked 
cookies to his father and said, "Look, 
Daddy, look, I made them all my- 

Later, when she roused herself, 
she remembered that she had 
planned to scrub and wax the floors 
today. Tliey really didn't need 
cleaning, though, she thought, as she 
looked the floors over. No one is 
here to track mud or dirt in. 

Track mud in. ... It had been 
about a month ago, and she had just 
finished scrubbing and waxing the 
floor when she heard the screen door 
slam and Bobby came running in. 

"Mama, Mama, do you know 
what?" he began excitedly. 

"Bobby," she scolded. "How 
many times must I tell you not to 
slam that screen door? And you've 
tracked mud all over my clean 

For the first time she noticed his 
clothes, and continued in a tone of 
exasperation. "And what have you 
been doing to get your clothes so 
dirty? Why, you've even torn your 

It wasn't until then that she 
noticed his face. He looked so 
crestfallen, and there was a hurt ex- 
pression in his eyes. 

In a subdued voice she then asked, 
"What was it you wanted to tell 


MARCH 1964 

Although he told her about the 
bird building a nest in the tree by 
the garage, and that he had to crawl 
on a ledge to see better, the joy of 
sharing his secret with her had been 
ruined by her words. 

Almost as if her mother were in 
the room and repeating the words 
again, she heard her say, 'Tou know, 
Helen, a mud-tracked floor can be 
wiped clean again. A torn shirt can 
be mended, but it isn't easy to put 
the joy back on the face of a child, 
or take the hurt look out of his eyes 
when harsh words have been 

How right her mother had been. 
Why, oh, why was I always so quick 
to scold him? she thought. The mud 
on the floor really didn't matter 
compared to the experience he had 
had in watching the bird gather 
string, leaves, twigs, and scraps of 
cloth and painstakingly carry each 
piece to the tree to make her nest. 
In his haste to get on the ledge be- 
fore the bird returned from one of 
her trips, he had torn his shirt. 

She recalled how excited and how 
anxious he had been to share his 
experience with her, then she had 
spoiled it all by her hastily spoken 

If only a mother could always 
have a second chance to right things, 
to do better, to be more patient. 

She would have to get hold of 
herself, too, she thought, before 
John got home. 

As she moved the playbox in 
Bobby's room to start the vacuum- 
ing, a blue canvas shoe fell out. Al- 
though Bobby had outgrown the 
shoes, for some reason he had in- 
sisted on keeping them. 

Grandfather Parker had made the 
box for him and had painted it a 
bright red. Because Bobby liked his 
grandfather's tool box so well, the 
playbox had been made as nearly 
like the tool box as possible — even 
to the lock and key that seemed to 
fascinate Bobby. 

''Now, Bobby," grandfather had 
said when he brought the box to 
him one week end, ''you can keep 
all your toys in this box. Your room 
will look neat and clean, if you put 
the toys back in the box after you 
get through playing with them. How 
do you think my saws and hammers 
would look if I left them out of the 
toolbox? And another thing, I'd 
never know where to find them 
when I needed them for a job." 

At first Bobby had remembered 
every night to put all the toys in 
the box but, as the newness wore 
away, he sometimes forgot. She had 
even scolded him for that, Helen 
remembered, forgetting that he was 
just a little boy without a grown- 
up's sense of responsibility. 

Now, as she stood holding the 
shoe in her hand, she noticed that 
the shoelace was missing. 

Shoelaces. . . . How many times 
a day had Bobby come running in 
the house saying, "Mama, do you 
know what?" 

And her answer had usually been, 
and with a lump in her throat she 
remembered saying, "Bobby, will 
you please tie up those shoelaces? 
You are forever tripping over 

Although he stopped telling the 
story he had been so excited about 
and patiently stooped to tie his shoe- 



laces, by the time he had finished, 
the smile had left his face, the shin- 
ing light had left his eyes, and the 
excitement had faded from his 
voice, when he told the important 
bit of news. 

With her eyes full of fresh tears, 
Helen put the shoe back in the 

Later, when she was peeling 
potatoes in preparation for dinner, 
she heard a car come in the drive- 
way. Surely it wasn't John already. 
She hurried to the window to see. 

It was her parents. They hadn't 
planned to come until Saturday, and 
it was only Wednesday. Now, she 
thought, I wonder what is wrong, 
and she had a moment of panic. 
Nothing seemed to be wrong, be- 
cause they were both smiling. 

Her father brought the car to a 
stop near the kitchen door. 

Between her parents, sitting tall 
in the seat and grinning from ear 
to ear, was Bobby. He looked dif- 
ferent, and it took Helen a few sec- 
onds to figure out why he looked 
different — and then she knew! He 
had lost his two front teeth. They 
had been loose when he left with 
his grandparents for a two weeks' 
visit with them on their farm. 

Helen was so anxious to get to 
Bobby that she was startled when 
she heard the screen door slam be- 
hind her as she ran from the house. 

Bobby, with that unruly lock of 
hair that stuck straight up in the 
air in spite of many combings and 
water, grinned a toothless smile at 
his mother and then stumbled over 
his grandmother's feet in his haste 
to get to her. As he started toward 
her he tripped and nearly fell over 
his untied shoelaces. 

Habit was strong, and Helen 
caught herself almost saying, "Bob- 
by, will you please tie your shoe- 
laces?" But she checked her words 
in time. 

All out of breath with the excite- 
ment and importance of it all, Bob- 
by said, ''Mama, do you know 
what?" And then he paused for the 
magic words from her. 

''No, what?" 

"I rode the pony all by myself. 
Grandpa let me. I found a nest of 
baby kittens, and they were so little 
they' didn't even have their eyes 
open. And that banty hen, she has 
ten chickens. If I hold my hand 
like this," and he cupped his hand, 
"they fit in just right, and they are 
so little and fluffy and cute." 

Helen's mother was trying to 
catch her eye to explain a few 
things. Over Bobby's head she was 
saying in snatches of conversation, 
"... Came a few days earlier — a 
little homesick we thought — he's 
young — first time away for so long 
— did very well, we thought. . . ." 

Bobby had finished his recital and 
then shouted, "Daddy!" 

Sure enough, John was just turn- 
ing the corner. 

Helen cried in dismay, "The din- 
ner — I haven't even put the po- 
tatoes on." The two women hur- 
ried into the house. 

Grandpa and Bobby stood in the 
driveway waiting for John, and Hel- 
en heard Bobby say, "Daddy, do 
you know what?" 

She stood by the window just a 
second longer, looking at the three 
of them. Yes, Helen thought, I am 
one of the fortunate ones. I have a 
second chance. 


What does your 









Myrtle Henderson, BS. 
Former Head, Speech Department, Dixie College 

She shore done a good job on my hair!" How often we have heard such 
glaring mistakes! The one who makes them is saying that she is a careless 
person, or that she has forgotten what she has learned in school, or that 
she has never learned the simple rules of correct English. Such mistakes 
are as noticeable as walking down the street with one red and one green 
shoe. How much better to have said, "She surely did a good job on my 
hair" or better, ''She surely did my hair well." 

Some grammatical errors are more common in specific localities, and 
others are more universal, but all grammatical mistakes exemplify misunder- 
standing or lack of knowledge of the rules of correct speech. With a 
little effort we can overcome our habits of uncultured speech, and not only 
make a better impression on our friends and the people we meet, but 
also, we can set a correct example for our children to follow. 

Obviously, one article cannot give all the rules of correct grammar in 
one easy lesson, but it can point out some of the most frequent offenders, 
and help to establish a basis for further study and practice. 

Some of the common errors are made in the use of the verbs saw and 
seen and did and done. The verbs seen and done are parts of teams and 
work in double harness with their helpers have, has, or had. Saw and did 
can work alone. Here is a chart which, if studied carefully and used for 
frequent reference, will prove helpful. 


I saw it myself. 

She saw the show. 

They saw the girl. 

I have seen the violet show. 

They had seen the hole before the 

boy fell in. 
I did the washing. 
She did the dishes. 
They have done it many times. 


I seen it myself. 

She seen the show. 

They seen the girl. 

I have saw the violet show. 

They had saw the hole before the 

boy fell in. 
I done the washing. 
She done the dishes. 
They have did it many times. 



Some people are a bit confused about which pronoun to use in the nomina- 
tive and the objective case. It should be remembered that I and we 
are the first person pronouns to be used in the nominative case as subjects 
o( the verb, while the pronouns me and us are the first person pronouns to 
be used as objects of verbs and prepositions. 

These sentences will illustrate: 

1. It is for us Latter-day Saints to remember the Sabbath Day. 

Us is the object of the preposition ior. Never say, "It is for we." 
We must be used as a subject. 

2. This doctrine is subscribed to by us Mormons. Never *'by we 

Us is the object of the preposition by. Mormons is simply a noun 
used in apposition to us. 

3. This message applies to you and me. You and me are objects of 
the preposition to. Never use *'to you and I." 

4. We Latter-day Saints, must live our religion. We is the subject 
of the verb must live. Latter-day Saints is the noun in apposition 
to the subject We. We should never say, ''Us Latter-day Saints 
must live our religion." 

5. You and J will go. You and I are the subjects of the verb wilJ go. 

Sometimes we hear the expression, ''Us girls are having a party." See 
how it would sound if we leave "girls" out and say, "Us are having a party." 
It is wrong because Us is the objective form and is being used as the 
subject of the sentence. Try saying, "We girls are having a party." Girls 
could be left out and we could still make sense. Why? Because We is 
the nominative case and is used as the subject of the sentence. 

Sometimes we hear "Him and me will do that job." Can you see now 
what is wrong? Of course! Him and me are both in the objective case and 
should not be used as subjects of the sentence. "He and I will do the job," 
would be correct. 

We often get a scrambling of pronouns and cases by saying, "I and her 
helped the old lady." J in the nominative case and her in the objective — 
both used as the subject of the verb helped. Instead of "her," use the 
single nominative form "she." J indicates the speaker and should be placed 
last as: "She and I helped the old lady." 

Two other pronouns which often give trouble are the nominative and 
objective forms of the interrogatives who and whom. Who should be 
used as the subject of the verb because it is in the nominative case. Whom 
should be used as the object of a verb or a preposition. These sentences 
will illustrate: 

1. Who was there? 2. Whom did you see? 


MARCH 1964 

In the first sentence who is the subject of the verb was, but in the 
second sentence, you is the subject of the verb did see, and whom is the 
object of the verb did see. That will be clear if we change the sentence 
around and say, "You did see whom?" 

Many people have difficulty in discovering the word which is the 
subject of a sentence when the subject is modified by a prepositional 
phrase. It is well to remember that the verb goes with the subject and is 
not supposed to be concerned with the prepositional phrase. The subjects 
are italicized and singular. 

Correct Incorrect 

The package of papers was lost. The package of papers were lost. 

One of the boys was late. One of the boys were late. 

Each of the flowers was in full Each of the flowers were in full 

bloom. bloom. 

The collection of rocks was lost. The collection of rocks were lost. 

There are college graduates whose childhood training in incorrect 
grammar still remains to plague them. They may know the rules, but 
years of incorrect usage cause wrong words to slip out before there is time 
to think. Repetition of the correct grammar, over and over, until it is 
fixed in the mind and rolls off^^ the tongue without thinking, is the best 
way to overcome daily errors in speech. 

If parents would take care to use correct English at home, they would 
simplify their children's problem in learnmg grammar at school and at 
home. It can be done. I was thrilled to hear one evening a little three- 
year-old say to his mother, "To whom did you give it, mamma?" Both 
parents were careful to use correct English, and expected it of their chil- 

Fawn at the Pool 

Thelma J. Lund 

Quiet brown eyes reflect the pool 

of shadow-brown water surfaced with cool 

lily blossoms and leaves afloat — 

serene and silent, dappled, remote. 

Gentle brown eyes reflect the trust 

that shimmering wraith, an image in rust, 

will suddenly vanish from the brink 

of the shadow-brown pool when she wades to drink. 


tast your bread upon the n\^ 

Olive Sharp 

For a long time I have been wanting to write an article — "Cast thy bread upon the 
waters: for thou shalt find it after many days." 

As a small girl out in Wyoming, I attended Sunday School in a little log cabin. 
I loved the music and the singing, also the small cards that were given each child on 
Sunday. They were not much larger than a large postage stamp, but the messages 
those cards held covered most of the Ten Commandments. 

At first I did not quite grasp their meanings, but, as I grew older, those mes- 
sages began to dawn upon me and I could see the ground they covered. We would 
receive a small card every Sunday, and when we had collected twelve, we would be 
given a small reward. 

I am sure the things we commit to memory, while young, stay with us all of our 
lives, and that is why good deeds should be stamped on our children's memories. 

Now that I am eighty years old, the blessings I am finding from several sources are 
coming back to me. 

Once I helped a niece through high school. Now she is very kind and thought- 
ful of me, and for Mother's Day sent me a first-class jet ticket from Salt Lake City to 
San Diego, and return. That is where she is living. 

Another little English girl I helped, and she helped me with my children, now 
takes us on nice trips in their car to such places as Los Angeles and Bear Lake. 

A cousin, now living in Anchorage, whom I helped a little while her children were 
young and she was having a hard struggle, now is doing well in Alaska. The family 
have often invited me to spend the summer with them, and she and her husband 
called the other day in a new car and insisted that I return to Alaska with them. I 
found out how far it was and that it would take one week to reach their place. 

Oh, how I would have loved to have gone through those large forests and the 
wild country, but I was afraid that I was too old, and that I might cause them, and 
myself trouble, so I did not go. 

I could tell what a pat on the back, a smile, a word of sympathy mean to old 
friends, and also to myself. 

My motto is, "Count that day lost when the low descending sun views from thy 
hand no worthy action done." Surely, ". . .as the twig is bent the tree's inclined." 
If you cast your bread upon the waters, you will find it after many days. 

Our Chapel 

Margaret B. Shomaker 

Our chapel is the strength of yesterday, 

The experience of today, and 

The trust for tomorrow. 

It is our edifice of the present ifc* i 

For the future — 

A beatitude to man . . . 

A covenant with God. %#^h 



Chapter 2 

Hazel M. Thomson 

Synopsis: While Selena and Belle 
Baldwin, sisters, are encamped at 
Winter Quarters awaiting the depar- 
ture of the wagon train for the Valley 
of the Great Salt Lake, Selena's 
fiance dies, and is buried there. 
Selena cannot be comforted, although 
Josiah Blodgett, a captain of ten, and 
Lon Holiday, captain of fifty, try to 
help them. 

There were many dances on the 
plains before the wagon train 
came to the mountains. Often 
Lon sat beside the girls as they 
watched the dancing. Sometimes 
he and Belle joined the dancers. 

Belle was untiring where a dance 
was concerned and eagerly ac- 
cepted his invitations to dance. 
Lon developed a great admira- 
tion for Belle, finding as he did, 
that she did not know what it 
meant to complain. Her good 
humor saved many situations on 
the long, tiresome journey. He 
began to realize what an asset a 
wife like Belle would be to a man 
on the frontier and found him- 
self unable to understand the 
strength of his feelings toward 
Selena, since she continued to 
give him no encouragement what- 



soever. In fact, quite the contrary. 

Selena often excused herself 
when he appeared, going to the 
wagon and leaving him and Belle 

Once Belle chided her for her 
abruptness toward him. 

"How do you think Lon feels, 
Selena, if every time he comes 
near our wagon, you get up and 

"Lon?" asked Selena, and it 
was plain that the thought had 
never concerned her. "How do I 
know how he feels, and why 
should I care? Who, in this whole 
wagon train, cares how I feel?" 

"We all do, Selena," said Belle 
gently. "Everyone is concerned." 

"So concerned that they sing 
and dance every night. They 
don't bother to wonder what it 
does to anyone else." 

"Of course they do, Selena. But 
you can't expect this entire camp 
to mourn every step of the way 
for " 

"Don't you mention his name!" 
flared Selena. "You never liked 
him! Though why you didn't, I've 
never been able to understand. I 
don't think you could explain, 
yourself, what you had against 

Belle opened her mouth to 
answer, then she stopped. There 
was no good in adding to the 
burden her sister was already 
carrying. She could say nothing 
that would do any good now, in 
fact it could not even be proved, 
and might cause a serious rift 
between the two of them. 

The only favor Selena accepted 
from Lon during the long journey 

was his offer to let her ride his 
horse. She loved horses, any 
horse. It had been a great dis- 
appointment to her when she had 
learned that Belle had obtained 
a pair of oxen to pull their wagon. 

Riding the horse proved to be 
a welcome change, and several 
times during an afternoon she 
rode behind the wagon while 
Belle and Lon sat together on 
the wagon seat. 

"It's good to be traveling west 
with Josiah," said Lon upon one 
of these occasions. "We've cov- 
ered a lot of territory together. 
Had a right good homestead in 
Missouri. Best place we ever had. 
Hearing the gospel reaUy changed 
our lives. 

"It was a funny thing, too. I 
knew it was true right off. Josiah 
took a bit of convincing. He was 
right in there with the mob for 
awhile. Right up until Far West. 
That was more than he could 

"There's not a kinder person 
to be found than Josiah. Oh, I 
admit he may have a bit of 
prejudice against women in gen- 
eral, but he's still one of the 
finest men I have ever known. 
He isn't a man to use a lot of 
words, but something must have 
happened to turn him against the 
whole female sex." 

Lon jumped to the ground as 
they approached a deep waddy. 
He directed the oxen expertly 
to one side and then the other. 
The wagon swayed but stayed 
upright as it came back to a more 
level piece of land. 

"Josiah taught me that," he 


MARCH 1964 

said, as he took his place back chew their cud. You might be 

on the seat beside Belle. ''He's a able to help quite a lot that 

good man with a wagon and can way." 

get more miles out of a team of 

horses in a day than anyone I J osiah snorted. Lon rode up and 

have ever seen.'* drew his horse to a stop. 

Belle remembered this when, "I'm not having any female 

after a particularly rainy time, pull our outfit out of the mud, 

Lon rode back to report that their Lon. I'll stay here all summer 

wagon was stuck. first." 

"What we need are your oxen," Lon was feeling the humor of 

Lon stated. the situation, and his face 

Belle closed her lips and twitched but he did not smile, 

jumped to the ground to unloose "I'll drive old Buck and Bar- 

the team from her own wagon, ney. Belle. And I promise not to 

"You can take them, of course, touch them with a whip. How 

But I insist on driving them to about it?" 

get your load going again." "Of course, Lon. I'll take your 

Belle led her oxen toward the horse and wait back at my 

wagon ahead. Lon mounted his wagon. I guess you'll have to pull 

horse and followed a short dis- him out, though I wouldn't mind 

tance behind, possibly hoping to a bit if he did just what he said 

avoid the explosion he felt was — stayed here stuck in the mud 

imminent. all summer." 

''Your oxen! Of all the teams Belle had only reached her 

in the wagon train why in thunder own wagon when she turned to 

did Lon go for yours?" Josiah see Lon coming on the run. 

demanded. "You'll have to drive them, 

"It's obvious, isn't it?" ans- Belle. They won't budge for me. 

wered Belle. "Probably because I think they are waiting for the 

my oxen are in better condition sound of your voice. Josiah's try- 

than any other animals on the ing now, but I don't expect him 

trip. You could have kept your to have much luck." 

horses up better if you had "Josiah! Lon, you promised!" 

bothered to pull them a little "I know I did. Belle, but I 

extra grass when the picking in couldn't make them move and 

camp proved to be a little sparse," you know how he is with animals, 

said Belle. He thought maybe he could per- 

"Pull grass for them! Nobody suade them." 

but a female would think of any- "A couple of balky cows, if I 

thing like that. Should I chew it ever saw any," cried Josiah as 

for them, too?" they ran up. "That's all they are. 

"If you like," said Belle ami- I wouldn't have a pair of oxen, 

ably. "The poor things probably You couldn't give them to me. 

don't get it chewed up as well as I should think you'd have got a 

an ox does, since they don't team of good horses before start- 



ing out on a journey like this." 
"You did/' said Belle calmly, 
"and look at the condition they're 
in. You might be glad some of us 
didn't have enough money to buy 
horses, before you get to the 

Belle patted the animals, 
speaking softly to them all the 
while, then, "Haw!" she cried. 
"Haw!" The oxen swung a little 
to the left. The chain tightened 
and the wagon rolled forward 
slowly, surely out of the mud 
onto firm ground. 

UosiAH stood by in amazement, 
his mouth opened, a strange, new 
look of admiration in his eyes. 
Lon, watching, caught the look 
at once. He was equally as sur- 
prised as Josiah; Lon to see what 
was happening to his friend, and 
Josiah, to see a woman handle 
a team of oxen with such skill. 

"Come on, Josiah," said Lon. 
"The least you can do now is to 
help the lady put the oxen back 
on her own outfit. Get the chain 

Josiah came to with a start, 
only to see that Belle had al- 
ready removed the pin and was 
carrying the chain as she turned 
the oxen toward the rear of the 

"I can drive back just as easily 
as forward," she said. 

After she had gone a few steps 
she turned and looked over her 

"Sometimes it happens that 
women aren't too much of a drag 
on a trip like this." 

The sarcasm was wasted on 

"Lon!" he cried. "Did you see 
that? Did you see what she did?" 

"Easy, Josiah, easy," said Lon. 
"That's a female you're talking 

"But she doesn't act like a fe- 
male. Why, she drove those oxen 
just like a man!" 

Lon decided to let things rest, 
realizing that in Josiah's present 
state of mind, it was useless to 
remind him that neither of the 
two men present had been able 
to move the oxen one inch. 

V\^HENEVER the scouts Sent word 
back that Indians were in the 
nearby area Selena became al- 
most petrified with fear. From 
the very beginning of the trip 
this was the thing she had 
dreaded most, more than the hot, 
scorching sun, or the wet, sodden 
plodding through mud, or the 
constant tiredness from endless 

"Belle!" protested Selena, after 
watching her sister walk among 
some of the red visitors who 
came, one day, into camp. "How 
can you get near them? They're 
dirty. How do you know what 
disease you might pick up?" 

Belle laughed. "They interest 
me, Selena. Did you see their 
moccasins? I've never seen such 
beautiful bead work. How I would 
love to have a pair." 

"You mean you would actually 
wear them!" 

In camp meeting that night 
Lon gave orders to everyone in 
their fifty to treat the Indians 

"Our Church has little trouble 


MARCH 1964 

with them," he said, "and we 
don't want to give them any 
chance for action against us. 
They have traded with so many 
wagon trains passing through 
that you will find they have de- 
veloped a taste for some of the 
white man's food, especially flour. 
While we can't spare much, in 
most instances just a little will 
satisfy them and prevent trouble. 
Use your best judgment in main- 
taining peaceful associations with 
them upon their occasional 

A few days later another group 
of Indians came to the camp. 
Selena's heart beat fast as she 
saw Belle leading an Indian 
squaw toward their wagon. Where 
could she go? What could she do? 
She looked about the crowded 
interior of the wagon for some- 
where to hide. 

the bright, beaded toes. Then 
she looked up at Selena whose 
eyes were on them as though 
they were something repulsive. 

"Stop blaming the Indians for 
the sickness at Winter Quarters. 
They live up to the best they 
know — better than most of us. 
You know what the scripture 
says about them. Here, let me 
read it to you." 

B ELLE reached her Book of Mor- 
mon from under her pillow, 
turned quickly to Alma and read: 

For it is because of the traditions 
of their fathers that caused them to 
remain in their state of ignorance; 
therefore the Lord will be merciful 
unto them and prolong their existence 
in the land. And at some period of 
time they will be brought to believe 
in his word, and to know of the in- 
correctness of the traditions of their 
fathers. . . . 

Under the bed! It was the only 
possibility. It was a good thing 
the situation had not been re- 
versed, fvQr;,Belle could never have 
squeezed rier large frame in out 
of sight among the boxes and 
bags stored there. 

There was not a breath of air 
moving and Selena felt she would 
suffocate before Belle found 
whatever she was after and her 
trading with the Indian woman 
was over. 

At last, when she was certain 
that Belle was alone, Selena 
crawled out. 

"Selena! Look at these mocca- 
sins! I've never wanted anything 
so much. Aren't they perfect?" 
Belle ran her fingers lightly over 

Belle stopped, searching the 
passages for a moment. 

"That's true enough. Their ex- 
istence has certainly been pro- 
longed, and if the Lord is going 
to be merciful to them, it might 
prove to be a good idea if we 
show them a little mercy our- 
selves. That wasn't what I 
wanted to read to you, though. . . . 
Oh, yes. Here it is: 

Nevertheless I say unto you, that 
it shall be more tolerable for them 
in the day of judgment than for you, 
if ye remain in your sins. 

"You see, Selena? For your 
own sake, you cannot afford this 
unreasonable fear of the Indians." 

Selena had no answer. She 



knew Belle spoke the truth, yet 
how could she make her under- 
stand? It had been a strange sick- 
ness that could take a strong 
man almost overnight in Winter 
Quarters. If it hadn't come from 
the Indians, it certainly seemed 
different from anything she had 
encountered before, and it had 
taken away her very reason for 

Later, when Selena returned to 
the wagon to get the kettle for 
the evening meal. Belle sat on 
the bed, her toes in one of the 
moccasins, and her face a mask 
of despair. This was a most un- 
usual sight. Selena hurried to her 
sister's side. 

''Belle!" she cried. "Whatever 
is the matter? Are you in pain?" 

"The moccasins!" moaned 
Belle. "They're too little. I can 
hardly get my big toe in them." 

"Oh! Is that all! You gave me 
such a fright!" 

"Is that all! Here I go and 
trade off some of our precious 
flour and my old wrapper as well, 
and all I get is a pair of mocca- 
sins that I can't even get on." 

Then Belle's face brightened as 
a thought came to her. 

"Selena! You could wear them. 
They might even be a little too 
big for you! Here. They're yours." 

Selena drew back. "I appreci- 
ate it, Belle. I know you mean it 
to be a kindness, but I couldn't 
take them, really." 

"You're being foolish, Selena. 
These are the most beautiful 
moccasins I have ever seen. Here. 
Try them." 

"And so they are," said Lon, 

coming up unexpectedly. "Let me 
see them. I might take you up 
on that." 

Laughing, he took the mocca- 
sins from Belle's outstretched 

"Whose are they?" he asked 
as they looked at the fine piece 
of handwork. 

"Yours, if you want them," 
said Belle. "I traded for them, 
but I can't begin to wear them, 
and Selena won't even try. Do 
you think you could wear them, 

"They look a little small for 
me, I'm afraid, though I'd like 
to have them, but I can't be 
selfish. I know someone who 
really needs these right now. 

"Josiah! I'm not about to give 
these moccasins to him. He'd find 
something wrong with them to 
come and tell me about, if he had 
to wait until they wore out and 
then complain about that. No, 
I'll keep them myself first." 

"His horse stepped on his toe 
last night, Belle. He can't get his 
boot on for a few days. He'd ap- 
preciate these. He's spent a lot 
of time among the Indians and 
has worn moccasins a lot. You 
could really help him out, Belle. 
Do it for the good of the wagon 
train, if not for Josiah. He can't 
help much in his stocking feet." 

Belle looked at the moccasins 
for a long moment. Then she 
handed them to Lon. 

"Here they are, Lon. He can 
have them, but I'm not taking 
them to him," said Belle. 

"That's another thing," said 
Lon, raising his hand against 


MARCH 1964 

taking the moccasins. "If I go 
back to our camp with these, 
he'll think I talked you out of 
them. I'd rather you took them, 
if not you, then Selena." 

Selena looked from one to the 
other. There was no way out. 
She would not let Lon know how 
she dreaded picking them up. 
Belle knew, of course, and Selena 
saw a look of admiration on her 
sister's face as she took the moc- 
casins from her. 

Lon and Josiah's wagon was 
about two-thirds of the way 
around the circle from theirs. 
Selena did not cut through the 
center where the animals were 
grazing, but walked around the 
outside of the ring of wagons. 

She found Josiah seated on 
the wagon tongue soaking his 
foot in a bucket of hot water. 

"I'm sorry to hear about your 
foot," said Selena, as she came 

"My own fault," said Josiah. 
"My off horse always paws with 
his front feet when I hook him 
up. I should have had sense 
enough to get out of the way." 

"I brought you these mocca- 
sins," said Selena, holding them 
out to him. "They'll be much 
softer than your boot until your 
foot is better." 

"Lon sent you with these, 
didn't he? He's always trying to 
take care of me. Well, you can 
tell him. . . ." 

"No," interrupted Selena. "Not 
Lon. My sister, Belle." 


Josiah was on his feet. The 
bucket of water went over. 

Selena managed to get away 
just in time to avoid its pouring 
over her shoes. For the moment 
his sore foot was forgotten. 

"You really mean it? Belle 
sent these moccasins?" 

"She did," said the bewildered 
Selena, "but why all the excite- 
ment? What's so important about 
her sending them?" 

"Maybe nothing. Maybe every- 
thing. Selena, hurry along back 
and if you see Lon, tell him I'd 
like to see him right sudden- 

"He's acting sort of crazy," 
she told Lon as she returned to 
her own camp. "You'd better go 
right away." 

Lon was off at a run. Suppos- 
ing the injured foot had turned 
to blood poisoning. Suppose. . . . 

But he needn't have worried. 
When he reached his own wagon, 
Josiah was already wearing the 
moccasins, shaving carefully as 
he squinted into a piece of broken 
mirror he had propped up against 
the side of the wagon. 

As he heard Lon's footsteps, 
Josiah turned to face him, one 
side of his face still unshaven. 

"Well!" said Lon, "why the 
middle of the week clean-up? 
What's going on?" 

"Lon!" cried Josiah. "Lon! Do 
you suppose she knows?" 

"Knows? Who? Knows what?'' 
asked Lon. 

"Belle. Do you think she 
might have heard that among 
certain Indian tribes the squaw 
can choose her husband by send- 
ing a pair of moccasins to the 
man she decides to marry?" 
(To be continued) 


Charlotte H. Singley — Landscape Artist 

Charlotte (Lottie) Hammer Singley, Bountiful, Utah, finds much pleasure 
in oil painting. Her favorite subjects are mountains, such as the majestic 
Tetons of Wyoming (top, center), winter scenes, and autumn splendor in 
forest country. Shown in the photograph above are paintings of the Joseph 
Smith Home and the Sacred Grove. 

Mrs. Singley, a woman of many talents, is also a gifted musician, and 
has been a choir member in several wards and stakes, as well as a member 
of the Ogden Tabernacle Choir. Her poetry, short stories, and articles have 
appeared in Church and national publications. She is skilled in many kinds 
of handwork — knitting, embroidery, crocheting. With her husband, she has 
filled two missions — to the Cumorah Farm and the Joseph Smith home. In 
Relief Society work she has been a member of stake boards and ward presi- 
dencies and has been class leader in theology and literature, and discussion 
leader at work meeting, and has been a visiting teacher for many years. Temple 
work and genealogical research are very dear to her, and she is devoted to her 
five children and seventeen grandchildren. 




Hulda Parker General Secretary-Treasurer 

Canadian Mission Relief Society Singing Mothers Present Music 
For Mission-Wide Annual Convention, September 14, 1963 

Seated at the left, front row, left to right: First Counselor Elva M. Adam- 
son; President Caroline L. Pitcher; Second Counselor Jane Morrow. 

Second row, center, in dark dress: Donna Harker, director of the chorus; 
at the right, fifth row: Sharon Holmes, accompanist. 

Sister Pitcher reports: "Eighty-six Singing Mothers comprised the chorus, 
rendering 'Why Singing Mothers Sing' and 'How Lovely Are Thy Dwellings.* 
The theme of the convention — 'The Latter-day Saint Home Has Its Pattern 
in the Heavens' — was presented by Sister Pitcher. 'As a Light Shining' — 
reflecting the true spirit of visiting teaching — 'Ye Shall Do the Work 
Which Ye See Me Do' — was presented by the London District sisters with 
accompanying musical numbers beautifully rendered. 

"Recognition was given to sisters achieving 100% visiting teaching and 
honorable mention to other deserving sisters. A spirit of love and good fellow- 
ship prevailed throughout the day. 'Every sister a missionary' was again 
particularly stressed. There was an outstanding display of handicraft from 
each of the five districts. Many of the sisters' first efforts at quilting were 
in evidence. Following a delicious luncheon, departmental sessions convened. 
Over two hundred were in attendance, some traveling as far as 600 miles 
to attend. All five of the district presidents and a majority of the branch 
presidents gave the sisters their support in the venture." 



All material submitted for 
publication in this department 
should be sent through stake 
and mission Relief Society pres- 
idents. See regulations govern- 
ing the submittal of material for 
"Notes From the Field" in the 
Magazine for January 1958, 
page 47, and in the Relief So- 
ciety Handbook of Instructions. 

San Antonio (Texas) Stake Relief Society Visiting Teachers l-ionored 
At Convention, June 15, 1963 

Front row, seated, left to right: Angela Elizondo; Otilia Zeigler; Lucia 
Bremer; Margarita Favella; Maria Vasquez. 

Back row, standing, left to right: Hattie Bitter; Fannie Ekstrom; Thilla 
Greathouse; Louise Turley; Carmen Martinez. 

Kathryn K. Willis, former President, San Antonio Stake Relief Society, 
reports that there was an excellent attendance at the convention and a greater 
interest in visiting teaching was aroused. "Sister Lucia Bremer was especially 
honored as a member of the first Relief Society in San Antonio. The first 
meeting of the society there was held in her home. Sister Bremer and the 
other sisters in the picture were presented with a beautiful carnation corsage 
by Gladys Bremer, stake Relief Society board member, for their faithful teach- 
ing for over twenty, years. Each visiting teacher present received a 'Pattern 
for Living' made by the stake board members. 

"The play 'May We Come In?' written by Ivy Huish Jones, was presented 
in a very instructive and entertaining manner. The play depicted the im- 
portance of visiting teaching and the need of having love in our hearts when 
we make our visits. Talks were given by three of the sisters on various phases 
of visiting teaching. A social hour and refreshments were enjoyed by all." 

Delpha Jeffers is the new president of San Antonio Stake Relief Society. 


MARCH 1964 

Pasadena Stake (California) Singing Mothers Present Music for Many Occasions 

Nell Ellsworth, President, Pasadena Stake Relief Society, reports: "The 
Singing Mothers of Pasadena Stake have for their chorister Ovena Mayo, and 
the accompanists are Delia Cox, at the piano, and Lydia Smith, at the organ. 
This group sings regularly for two stake conferences a year, at special leader- 
ship meetings, and in wards on special occasions." 

Irish Mission Relief Society Enjoys Unified Mission Bazaar 

June 15, 1963 

Sandra M. Covey, President, Irish Mission Relief Society, reports: "The 
Relief Society women representing twenty branches in Ireland sponsored a 
unified mission bazaar at Redhill, the beautiful mission home in Belfast. The 
fete was graciously opened by Mr. Leslie Stuart, official royal photographer 
for Northern Ireland. A fancy dress parade for the children, a vocal and 
instrumental quartet, a portrait stall featuring Mr. Charles Sinclair, a local 
cartoonist; and boat rides on Redhill Lake were especially popular. A balloon 
man clown and lovely hankie girl delighted the children, and families tested 
skill and luck in the various game booths. Items on sale, the results of many 
months of work, were displayed in gaily decorated booths and stalls, including 
handicrafts, children's toys, fish pond, wonderful home bakery, flower and 
vegetable stall, "white elephant," apron, children's clothing, homemade sweets, 
cosmetics, refreshments, and visual aids for families and teachers. 

"Each Relief Society had heavy assignments and solicited help from 
inactive and nonmember women. Some organizations doubled their member- 
ship, and many women joined the Church. We were thrilled with the $1,000 
raised, though the fete was closed early by heavy rain. Of special interest was 
a seventy-five page bazaar idea and pattern book which we had printed, con- 
taining hundreds of patterns and ideas. These were sold to Relief Societies in 
Europe and women's clubs in Ireland." 

Ashley Stake (Utah) Closing Social and Inter-Faith Barbecue Dinner 

May 1963 

Mazie S. Christensen, President, Ashley Stake Relief Society, reports 
this unusually successful occasion: "The Ashley Stake Relief Society held a 
closing social in the form of an inter-faith barbecue dinner, served on the patio 
of the Ashley-Uintah Stake center. The picture shows members of the stake 
board, assisted by Bishop Ben Lindsay, as they barbecue chicken for the 
affair. An interesting display of articles made by Relief Society members 
during the past year was exhibited in the recreation room." 


^- ^, fr.^»f> .|^ fl t> 5? ™ 2 ^ i-i -"^ " 



MARCH 1964 

North Sanpete Stake (Utah), Mount Pleasant First Ward Annual Day 

March 18, 1963 

Left to right: Lavon McArthur, Secretary -Treasurer; Ruth Fowles, Second 
Counselor; Nellie McAllister, President; Elnora Larsen, First Counselor. 

Louise B. Johansen, President, North Sanpete Stake Relief Society, re- 
ports: "The Mount Pleasant First Ward Relief Society celebrated the found- 
ing of the organization by having a luncheon and program with an international 
theme. At one end of the hall a large map of the world was placed in the 
middle of flags representing various countries, and ribbons of the Relief Society 
colors indicated the location of the temples, and pictures of the temples were 
placed at one end of the ribbons. 

"The last verse of the song 'Come Unto Jesus' was printed on a large plac- 
ard and placed at one side. These decorations tied in with the decorations 
used on the tables. A collection of dolls, six to twelve inches high, from many 
countries, along with flags representing the different nations, were used, 
centered by a globe of the world, with blue and gold ribbon reaching out in 
many directions. Gumdrops were used to hold small flags from many countries. 
These flags matched flags used on the invitations, which were taken to all the 
sisters of the ward. They were asked to bring their invitations for use in finding 
their seats. 

"The menu also carried out the same theme: 

Swiss ham 

Sanpete carrots 

English rolls 

Scalloped Irish potatoes 

Chinese cabbage with French dressing 

Hawaiian dessert 

"The program also followed the theme: 

Xylophone solo — medley of Scotch music 

Cello solo — Hawaiian music 

Swiss yodeling 

Danish song (in Danish) 

Origin and stories about St. Patrick's Day by a sister from Ireland 

Vocal solo — 'God Bless America' 
"The history of the ward Relief Society, from the time of its beginning 
in 1961, was related. Sixty sisters were present." 

Uruguayan Mission, Carrasco Branch Pioneer Day Celebration, 1963 

Helen Fyans, President, Uruguayan Mission Relief Society, reports that 
the unique "Pioneer Day" celebration held in the Carrasco Branch was typical 
of many similar celebrations held throughout the mission: "Organized under 
the direction of the Relief Society of each branch, the celebrations included 
a presentation of slides and narration about the Latter-day Saint pioneers, 
typical music, and square dancing. Decorations included wagon wheels, hand- 
carts, and a big fire. 

"In some areas the construction program was aided through the contri- 
bution of a 'Kilo' by each person attending the celebration. The 'Kilos' are 
used to sustain the Church building missionaries. The program was planned 
by the Relief Society Mission Board, headed by Sister Carmen C. de Galli. 
Other members of the board are Luz Oliva de Rodal, Maria Luisa DiPierro, 
Maria Elida Wins de Otero, and Alba Molinari LaBuonora. The celebrations 
attracted large attendance of both members and nonmembers." 


:"SuS Trom every noTion, 
^rom land ond isle offne sea; 
Unh ihe high and lowly in datfon, 
ver he caliss ^'^Come to me, to me*\ 

MARCH 1964 

Rarotongan Mission (Cook Islands), Avarua Branch Work Meeting 

August 13, 1963 

Front row, left to right: Metua Jones; Tauri Taroro; Tuo Ngati; Pauline 

Back row, left to right: Alice Vahua; Delia Howard; Ngametira Tuaputa; 
Inez S. Moody, President, Rarotongan Mission Relief Society; Rongo Kea; 
Ina Taroro; Rau Tai; Ngaupoko Papera; Teei Ngatokoa; Metua Kura. 

Sister Moody reports that the women in the picture are making Pareu 
skirts for the Polynesian Village opening at Laie. Around the table is a sample 
of the skirts. In the background are Taewaiwai quilts made by the sisters. 
"They have seventy-six skirts to make. It is quite a difficult, long process to 
prepare the Kiriau (grass), for they have to cut the young trees from the 
hills and take them to the beach, skin the outer layer of bark, and bury the 
limbs in the sea under heavy rocks, where the sea keeps them wet. They stay 
there for from five to ten days, then they are taken out of the water, and the 
inner bark is taken off. This is the bark they use for the skirts. It has to dry 
thoroughly for a day or two, then long strips are cut and tied onto heavier 
bark to make the skirt. It takes about twenty stalks to make one skirt. After 
the skirts are made, the seeds and beads and shells must be gathered and 
cleaned to decorate the waistbands of the skirts. If there is to be any coloring 
in the skirt, then the material must be dyed before the skirt is made. To make 
seventy-six is a long, tedious job." 



Aiton Brown 

April means spring. Spring means house cleaning. So Tuesday of last week found 
me surveying my attic storeroom with distaste. Nevertheless, the unpleasant task must 
be done, so I flew into it with forced vigor. The room had not been invaded for sev- 
eral years, and soon I was surrounded by a cloud of dust which aggravated my hay 
fever. As I groped, coughing and sneezing, toward the window, I stumbled over the 
narrow end of a coffin-shaped box partially concealed under an ancient washstand. 
It was my father's old violin case. The battle-scarred leather covering, its color oblit- 
erated by dust, was tattered and worn, and the wooden frame could be seen through 
a hole at the end. As I tenderly picked it up, dusted it off, and placed it on a pack- 
ing box, my eyes filled with tears. I could hardly see my fingers as they fumbled with 
the lock, and only after several clumsy attempts was I able to open the case. There, 
protected by a worn, faded, red velvet wrapper, was my father's violin, the treasured 
possession that had been one of his great loves — second only to his family. 

The aged instrument showed signs of usage, but the golden luster of the wood 
was still evident; a luster created by many hours of careful polishing with a soft cloth 
held in strong but gentle hands. The same hands that could either capably rope a 
steer or soothe a fexered brow. The slight discoloration of the finish surrounding the 
graceful sound holes indicated antiquity. Four strings, three loosened and one still 
taut, were drawn from the frog over the slender black ebony fingerboard. The strings 
were then fastened to the pegs near the end of the neck, which was adorned by a 
handsome hand carved scroll. 

As I lifted the instrument and plucked the untuned strings with my thumb, I 
could see the slight dullness of the fingerboard; a dullness caused by countless journeys 
of sensitive, though calloused, fingers up and down the strings searching for the clear, 
sweet, melodious tones pleasant to hear. Gay tunes, sad tunes, ballads, jigs, classics, 
and hymns — each had at one time or another revealed the mood of the maestro. 
I then ran my fingertips caressingly over the worn chin rest that had time and time 
again nestled a silken black beard; a beard which had framed a smiling mouth, en- 
hanced a fine Grecian nose, and complemented two merry blue eyes. 

"Is it a Stradivarius?" you ask. No, it is an instrument fashioned from a piece 
of applewood by my grandfather for his son's eleventh birthday. "Oh, just a fiddle," 
is your comment. I would never hesitate to give honored credit for great violin mak- 
ing to the master from Cremona, but more love never existed than the love that went 
into the creation of this humble instrument. 

Then came the day when the violin was put away for the last time. It was the 
day the trembling rheumatic fingers had searched l)lindly and unsuccessfully for the 
clear true tones of former, more youthful years. Over and over again, the campaign 
waged, but finally, with a sigh of defeat, the grand old man was forced to succumb 
to the one enemy over which he could gain no victory — time. 


MARCH 1964 








LORD I GO Schumann .20 

GOD IS LOVE Shelley .20 



COMMMANDMENTS ...Madsen .25 

!N THY FORM Madsen .20 


FOR JOY Stephens .20 


Haydn .22 

LORD'S PRAYER Gates .20 


HOUSE TO THEE Madsen .20 



GLADNESS Schumann .20 

OMNIPOTENCE Schubert .20 

Use this advertisement as your 
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City and State „ 

DauneslHiisic | 

15 E. 1st South 

«/* Salt Lake City 11, Utah 


Both Individual and 
Group Tours 

There will be several tours to the 

World's Fair including the Hill 

Cumorah Pageant. 

JUNE, 1964 



Margaret Lund Tours 

3021 South 23d East 

P. O. Box 2065 

Salt Lake City, Utah 84109 

HU 5-2444 - AM 2-2337 

Idaho Falls 522-2581 

Feather Grief 

Ida Elaine James 

Your shattered sphere made whole 

With a bit of glue, 

I played the goddess-role 

To little you. 

You with the simple goal 

Of toys mended, 

I cannot help but wonder 

Of the long days when, 

Small panic of tears and thunder 

Stilled — I can't restore again 

The heart asunder — 

Such joys ended. 

And no one sees my own tear shed 

For the hours, days, years 

That you may go uncomforted 

With undried tears 

Be I alive or dead. 

So if I hold you overlong 

While you strain away 

Recovering your April-song 

Forgetful in play, 

My feather-grief is for that day — 

My love-word said. 



Catherine B. Bowles 

We walk the path of life but once 
As we journey down the way; 
We do not pass this way again 
As we travel day by day. 

Shall we plant seeds of happiness 
Or strew the path with flowers 
And sow the seed of gratitude 
For rich blessings that are ours? 

Send a song along the highway, 
Push a stone from off the road, 
Make a beaten path for others, 
Help them carry a heavy load. 

If we have helped, in some small way> 
To give another a brighter day. 
Then life has not been lived in vain; 
Blessings will come back again. 

The fragrance of a life well spent 
Smooths the pathway we have trod 
That will bring us richest blessings 
In our pathway back to God. 



A wonderful new 
way to live 

Buy now from your tloalor 


21 days — June 21 to July 11: 

World's Fair, Church historical places 

(does not include pageant). 

27 days — July 13 to August 8: 
World's Fair, Church historical places. 
Includes Hill Cumoroh Pageant. Also, 
Quebec and Montreal, Canada. 

24 days — July 23 to August 15: 
World's Fair, Church historical places, 
including Hill Cumorah Pageant. 

All tours include: Show at Jones' 
Beach, Rockettes, Top Broadway 
Show and a special event ticket at 
World's Fair, etc. 

Esther James Tours 

460 7th Avenue 
Salt Lake City, Utah 84103 
Phones: EM 3-5229 - EL 9-8051 


MARCH 1964 

Painting With Glass 

(Continued from page 202) 

Throughout the project, the interest of neighbors and friends 
has been aroused, and their curiosity has led them to the homes 
where the pictures were being assembled. The pleasant hours with 
new friends was an unexpected by-product. The heavy work of the 
project fell on a few, but there were many who enjoyed and benefited 
from this productive experience. 

The Happy Ending 

Such a personal feeling goes into each picture that the sisters 
regret parting with their creations! However, when a well-known 
Washington, D. C, Savings and Loan Company offered to display 
ten pictures in their attractive, busy Connecticut Avenue window, 
with spotlights on them at night, the "apron strings" were happily 
cut, and the sisters' "brain children" went on display, with prices 
ranging from $45 to $175. It is difficult to know which caused the 
most surprise, the $500 obtained from the immediate sales, or the 
bewilderment skeptical husbands registered when the pictures sold! 
This was one project where the makers didn't have to buy back 
their own productions. 

Currently, the same Loan Company has asked for more pictures, 
and they have arranged a display in three of their busy locations. 
One display is just two blocks from the White House. The inquiries 
about the pictures bring them sufficient business so that they do 
not charge a commission for selling. 

College Park Relief Society women had worked diligently to 
contribute to the building and furnishing of their new chapel, and 
for the room furnishings, kitchen equipment, and stainless steel serv- 
ice for 200. The money from the sale of the pictures gave the sisters 
the thrill of having cash for a luxury. It was invested in silver serv- 
ing pieces for refreshment tables, including silver punch bowls and 
assorted sizes of silver trays. They wisely spent their money for 
luxuries only after the necessities and needs of the operating budget 
had been met. 

As with all creative work, glass picture-making requires time 
and thought. To the neophyte, it may be work, but with practice 
and experience it becomes a fascinating art — rewarding as a means 
of expression and in the creation of something lovely, unique, and 
of value in the home or on the market. The bonus surprise of at- 
tracting new friends to Relief Society is a priceless reward of love 
in action. 



GJIean Douglas 

And now I go from water — from the sound 

Which has caressed me through the nights and days. 

My feet will turn to distant, arid ways — 

And sometimes stand quite still on desert ground 

Because the wind through dusty palms has sighed 

Like sleepy water on an ebbing tide. 

Conference Visitors- 

gratify that wistful yearning this April, and return for 





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"There is no substitute for experience" 



A sure way of keeping alive the valuable in- 
struction of each month's Relief Society Maga- 
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Mail or bring the editions you wish bound to 
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Please include postage according to table listed 
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Ninety- eight 

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Salt Lake City, Utah 

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Idaho Falls, Idaho 

Thanks for These 

Caroline Eyring Miner 

Calm eyes that look back into mine with strength; 
Continued assurance that I am forgiven, and loved; 
Self-laughter for my blunders; 
Gentle understanding for the hurts of others, 
Quiet peace when the sun is gone. 



These choice volumes will inspire and comfort you 
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Volume II by Roy W. Doxey 

An amazing and enlightening volume that is a worthy 
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We surely never dreamed that in nine short 
months this tragedy would come to us! 

Only those who have experienced such a 
sudden tragedy can know the great shock it 
brings and the empty, lonely feeling it leaves 
within a home. And only those who have had 
the security that a good insurance gives can 
answer a small daughter who asks, "Mamma, 
what will we do for money now Daddy's gone?" 

I am thankful that my husband had the 
love and foresight to provide this financial 
security for us. 

Our thanks to you, Keith, as our agent, for 
selling us this insurance, and to Beneficial Life 
Insurance Company for their prompt payment 
of our claim. 


Mrs. N. A. Roberts 


Salt Lake City, Utah 

From the Beneficial Life files 


Relief Society 


■OTKl*?'.' »->ii.'^Mt»r' 

Volume 51 Number 4 April 1964 Special Short Story Issue 



i?^-^' ■'■'#' 


>X#-; M-' 



^ 'rlf 






Lucille Rampton Perry 

Brown roads in April lead where uplands lie 
Uncovered by the sudden warmth of spring; 
Brown roads in April wander where the high 
Ridges of the hills are blossoming. 
They thrust through thickets laced with green, 
And stretch their length along the lazy field; 
Steeply up the wrinkled slope they lean 
Their rutted path, nor do their yearnings yield 
To snows that signal winter's last protest, 
But up they wander, and they bid our feet 
To follow them upon the joyous quest 
For life renewed where earth and heaven meet. 

The Cover: ^^ Bright Pinnacle in Red Canyon, Utah 
^ Transparency by Claire W. Noall 
J. Lithographed in full color by Deseret News Press 

Frontispiece: South Fork, Provo River, Utah 
Photograph by Willard Luce 

Art Layout: Dick Scopes 

Illustrations: Mary Scopes 


May I congratulate you on our 
wonderful Relief Society Magazine. I 
can hardly wait each month to get 
my copy — each one with such a 
beautiful cover. The lovely inspiring 
talks, stories, and poems, not to men- 
tion the wonderful lessons, are ap- 
preciated by me. 

Mrs. Tena V. Dorp Van der Ende 

Redondo Beach, California 

I want to thank you for The Relief 
Society Magazine and its guidance 
for the Relief Society program. I am 
sure our Father is pleased with the 
wonderful inspirational lessons and 
the uplift the whole program gives to 
the sisters. I am a young mother of 
four and I certainly look forward to 
Relief Society meeting. It really in- 
spires me in my dealings with my 
husband and family. 

Mrs. Kaye Sims 

Seattle, Washington 

I just had to drop you a note and 
tell you how much I enjoy The Relief 
Society Magazine. It is a real inspira- 
tion. I was especially thrilled with the 
conclusion of Rosa Lee Lloyd's serial 
"Kiss of the Wind" (February 1964). 
It was such a sweet, inspiring story. I 
feel as if I had been to Hawaii. I look 
forward to more of Mrs. Lloyd's 
stories. I loved her serial about Alas- 
ka, too. 

Claire Farrer 

Salt Lake City, Utah 

I just had to sit down and tell you 
how much I enjoyed reading "Kiss 
of the Wind," by Rosa Lee Lloyd. It 
was a wonderful story. The Magazine 
is a helpmeet in my life. 

Mrs. Carol Kemple 
North Las Vegas, Nevada 

I simply must write and tell you 
how outstanding our little Magazine 
is. I love the color added to each page 
— it makes the Magazine even more 
beautiful. Each cover is a collector's 
item in itself. So thanks so much for 
a clean, wholesome, edifying Maga- 
zine — a true gem in our times. 
Nora O. Caldwell 
Corvallis, Montana 

What a wonderful story just con- 
cluded in the February issue of the 
Magazine, such a splendid picture of 
Hawaiian life ("Kiss of the Wind," 
by Rosa Lee Lloyd). I love the lesson 
material very much, and the recipes 
are delightful. 

Helen H. Stickler 

Salt Lake City, Utah 

Of all the contents of the February 
Magazine, I enjoyed the editorial most 
("The Words That Women Write," 
by Vesta P. Crawford). It touched me 
where I live. The new serial ("Your 
Heart to Understanding," by Hazel 
M. Thomson) got off to a good start. 
The characterization of Belle is good, 
and the action moves in a straight 
line. The second prize story ("Mama 
Lives in the Kitchen," by Lael J. 
Littke) , I thought good, except for the 
fact that a woman with three children, 
ages three, ten, and sixteen, should 
not have been so overwhelmed with 
kitchen work, unless she really wanted 
to do it, which, I suppose, is the point 
of the story. The frontispiece poem 
("Sonnet to the Sea," by Alice Morrey 
Bailey) I love, and I am thankful I 
have had the delight of being on that 
very spot in Monterey. 

Dorothy Clapp Robinson 

Boise, Idaho 

Published monthly by THE GENERAL BOARD OF RELIEF SOCIETY of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. © 1964 by 
the Relief Society Generol Board Association. Editorial and Business Office: 76 North Main, Salt Lake City, Utah 84111; Phone EMpire 
4-2511; Subscriptions 2642; Editorial Dept. 2654. Subscription Price $2.00 a year; foreign, $2.00 a year; 20c o copy, payable in ad- 
vance. The Magazine is not sent after subscription expires. No back numbers con 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. 

The r^O li^ff S^Ci^ty Magazine 


Editor Marianne C. Sharp 
Associate Editor Vesta P. Crawford 
General Manager Belle S. Spafford 

Special Features 

244 Exalting the Poor John H. Vandenberg 

250 Marjorie C. Pingree Appointed to the General Board Elizabeth B. Winters 

251 Darlene C. Dedekind Appointed to the General Board Irene W. Buehner 

252 Cleone R. Eccles Appointed to the General Board Jeanette M. Morrell 

253 The Worth of The Relief Society Magazine T. Bowring Woodbury 

270 Springtime Thoughts of a Happy Woman Caroline Eyring Miner 

275 Cancer's Two Deadly Gaps American Cancer Society 

Fiction -Special April Short Stories 

256 The Storm Lila Spencer 

263 More Blessed to Receive Nita Ellis 

276 Please, Not This One Merle E. Feriante 
283 Be Yourself Betty G. Spencer 

303 Your Heart to Understanding — Chapter 3 Hazel M. Thomson 

General Features 

242 From Near and Far 

271 Woman's Sphere Ramona W. Cannon 

272 Editorial: Relief Society Time at the New York World's Fair 

Marianne C. Sharp 
274 Notes to the Field: Lesson Previews to Appear in the June Issue of 

The Relief Society Magazine 
310 Notes From the Field: Relief Society Activities Hulda Parker 
320 Birthday Congratulations 

The Home -Inside and Out 

289 Application Louise Murray 
291 Stretching the Food Budget 

Part VI — Make the Most of Economical Cuts of Meat Sadie O. Morris 

295 The Other Day Christie Lund Coles 

296 How About a "Get It Done Day"? Vera Stocker 

297 It Was Springtime Evelyn Fjeldsted 

298 Round-Table Togetherness Violet Nimmo 
300 Cover-Ups for Older Tots Adelle Ashby 

302 Sara C. Bowles Makes Many Quilts and Quilted Bedspreads 


241 Quest — Frontispiece Lucille Rampton Perry 

Neighbor Child, by Margery S. Stewart, 249: Enchanted Valley, by Sylvia Probst Young, 
261; Spring's Impulse, by Thelma J. Lund, 262; Quintet for Spring, by Hazel Loomis, 269; 
The Warblers, by Dorothy J. Roberts, 274; Earth Renewed, by Grace Barker Wilson, 275; 
Desert in Springtime, by Ethel Jacobson, 281; His Forgiving Way, by Viola Ashton Candland, 
282; Gift Apron, by Beulah Huish Sadleir, 288; The Heavens Proclaim, by Veda G. Linford, 
289; Spring Fashion, by Vesta N. Fairbairn, 290; Stimulus, by Eva Willes Wangsgaard, 290; 
Empty Nest, by Ida Elaine James, 294; An Evening Thought, by Catherine B. Bowles, 295; 
Halfway, by Zara Sabin, 299; Deserted Farm House, by Annie Atkin Tanner, 309; Sleep, 
by Iris W. Schow, 317; Thank You, by Lorretta Hanson, 318; Zaccheus, by Linnie Fisher 
Robinson, 319. 

the Poor 

Presiding Bishop John H. Vandenberg 

[Address Delivered at the Relief Society Annual General Conference, 

October 3, 1963] 

I feel very humble and grateful, 
my dear sisters, to participate 
with you in this conference of 
Relief Society leaders. It has 
been suggested that I say some- 
thing concerning the Relief So- 
ciety's responsibility toward the 
welfare program in the wards and 
stakes of the Church. 

One of the distinguishing fea- 
tures of the Church is its organi- 
zation of which the Relief Society 
is one of the strong facets. The 
Prophet Joseph Smith said, "I 
will organize the sisters under 
the priesthood after a pattern 
of the priesthood," and then 
later he said, "This church was 
never perfectly organized until 
the women were thus organized."' 
One never thinks of welfare work 
in the Church without thinking 
of the Relief Society. Elder 
Albert E. Bowen once said, "A 
church is an organization for the 
orderly carrying out of practices 
enjoined. Organization means 
order. Lack of it means frustra- 
tion and chaos. It is important 
to note that for every command 
God has given he has provided 
means for carrying it out."^ 

The Savior was deeply con- 
cerned about those in need and 
gave particular attention to the 
requirement of taking care of 
the poor, to those who would 
serve him. "If thou wilt be per- 
fect," he said to the rich young 

man, "go and sell that thou hast, 
and give to the poor."^ 

His apostles continued his doc- 
trine. "Pure religion and unde- 
filed before God and the Father 
is this. To visit the fatherless 
and the widows in their affliction, 
and to keep himself unspotted 
from the world."^ 

In this latter day, a special in- 
junction has come to the bishop 
in "Searching after the poor to 
administer to their wants. "^ Fur- 
ther, "and it is my purpose to 
provide for my saints, for all 
things are mine. But it needs be 
in mine own way." 

The welfare plan is the Lord's 
own way and encompasses all the 
instructions that have just been 
referred to. 

President Heber J. Grant de- 
clared, "This is one of the great- 
est and most important things 
the Church has ever undertaken 
to put over, and it will be put 
over because we have the ability 
and the power to do it."^ 

I like to think that when Presi- 
dent Grant spoke of the "ability" 
he was thinking of the devoted 
women in the Relief Society with 
their characteristics of tender- 
ness, mercy, warmth, love, 
understanding, and ability to 
"provoke the brethren to good 
works." When he spoke of the 
"power" he was thinking of the 
Priesthood, its organization, and 



the Priesthood bearers' devotion 
to the Church. The combination 
of the two operating together 
cannot fail. 

The objectives of the welfare 
plan are continuous and varied. 
They may, however, be generally 
thought of as belonging to two 
categories — immediate and ulti- 

The immediate objective is to 
render necessary assistance, to 
see that "all should be cared for, 
no one should suffer, no one 
should be hungry, no one un- 
clothed, no one without shelter." 

Where it is reported that a 
family is in need, the bishop in- 
vestigates that need by counsel- 
ing with the family. Upon his 
recommendation, he directs the 
Relief Society president to visit 
the home to ascertain what may 
be necessary for the proper con- 
sideration of the case. 

If the family is found to 
be destitute of food or clothing 
or other needful items, the 
Relief Society president at once 
reports to the bishop with her 
recommendation — and an order 
to the storehouse is then issued 
by the bishop to supply the im- 
mediate needs. They do not wait 
for an extended analysis. Then 
follows the real work of analyzing 
and rehabilitating the family into 
a self-sustaining program. It is 
here that the Relief Society 
is responsible smoothly and ef- 
ficiently to assist the bishop. 

Today, the standard of living 
is generally considered to be 
greatly improved over the condi- 
tions of the nineteen thirties; 
but there are many who are in 
need, and the welfare plan is 
operating more effectively than 

ever in helping to care for physi- 
cal needs. Realistically, we are 
meeting this challenge, and the 
Relief Society is efficiently carry- 
ing out the assignments given to 
it by the Priesthood, both in the 
rendering of assistance and in 
the production of commodities. 

The ultimate objective is to 
"help people to help themselves.'* 
True charity is more than just 
giving, it is to help one to lift 
himself so that he can independ- 
ently maintain himself. It has 
been said: 

The real long term objective of the 
Welfare Plan is the building of char- 
acter in the members of the Church, 
givers and receivers, rescuing all that 
is finest down deep in the inside of 
them and bringing to flower and fruit- 
age the latent richness of the spirit 
which after all is the mission and 
purpose and reason for being of this 

James Allen once said: 

Man is a growth by law, and not 
a creation by artifice, and cause and 
effect are as absolute and undeviating 
in the hidden realm of thought as in 
the world of visible and material 
things. A noble and Godlike character 
is not a thing of favour or chance, 
but is the natural result of continued 
effort in right thinking, the effect of 
long cherished association with God- 
like thoughts.^ 

It would appear, then, that 
there is need to prepare the 
minds of the people with the 
great virtues of the plan. This 
being the case where do we start? 

The apostle Paul suggests that 
the home is where true charity 
begins. He said: "But if any pro- 
vide not for his own, and special- 
ly for those of his own house, he 
hath denied the faith, and is 
worse than an infidel."^ 


APRIL 1964 

The home is where the Prophet 
Joseph Smith placed the empha- 
sis when he said to the Rehef 

To illustrate the object of the So- 
ciety, that the Society of Sisters might 
provoke the brethren to good works 
in looking after the wants of the poor, 
searching after objects of charity and 
in administering to their wants, to 
assist, by correcting the morals and 
strengthening the virtues of the com- 
munity. . . .10 

The home is the fortress of 
the Church. The home is the 
place to build the character of 
the people. The home is where 
the morals may be corrected to 
strengthen the virtues of the 
community. Our lives and con- 
duct must be such as to invite 
the spirit of the Lord to dwell 
in our homes. 

When we think of the Relief 
Society, we think of the mothers 
in the Church. The mothers are 
the center of the lives of all 
Church members — children and 
husbands, alike. The Relief So- 
ciety, because of its direct line 
through the mothers into the 
homes of the Church, is a potent 
agency through which we can 
hope to achieve the ultimate wel- 
fare goal of the Church. 

George Hubert said, "A good 
mother equals a hundred school- 
masters. George Washington, the 
eldest of five children, was only 
eleven years of age when his 
father died. His mother was a 
woman of extraordinary ability 
who handled her responsibilities 
with success." 

No assignment in the Relief 
Society should ever be considered 
as an excuse to neglect the home. 
You, as leaders in the Relief So- 
ciety, must set the example in 

the home and promote peace and 
love therein. Again, let me re- 
mind you that the home is the 
fortress of the Church. Keep it 
strong by properly teaching the 
mothers in the arts of homemak- 

It has also been said, and I 

The greatest literary artist in 
American History, Nathaniel Haw- 
thorne, not only owed his success to 
the daily inspiration of his good wife, 
but also his only opportunity to com- 
pose first his mind and then his 
masterpiece. If it had not been for 
Sophia, perhaps we should not now 
remember Hawthorne. 

He lost his job in the custom house. 
A broken-hearted man, he went home 
to tell his wife that he was a failure. 
To his amazement she beamed with 
joy. "Now you can write your book." 
He said, "Yes, and what shall we live 
on while I am writing it?" She opened 
the drawer and took out an unsus- 
pected hoard of cash. "Where on earth 
did you get it?" She said, "I have al- 
ways known you were a man of 
genius. I knew someday you would 
write an immortal masterpiece. Out 
of the money you gave me I have 
saved a little — here is enough to last 
us for a whole year." Hawthorne sat 
down and wrote one of his finest 
books. The Scarlet Letter. 

Unless we pursue organization 
and correction through the 
homes, the homes will perpetuate 
the need of welfare. Children who 
are reared in the environment of 
a home sustained on direct relief 
are more likely to follow this 
pattern all their lives. Direct re- 
lief all too often invites the cursf 
of idleness and fosters other evi) 
of dole. 

The analysis of the cause 
the need should point the dir 
tion for us to follow. We usu/ 
find that need arises from 
of the following causes: 



Sickness — This may be of a 
temporary nature or of long dura- 
tion. It is here that the visiting 
of the sick by the Relief Society 
is so urgent. First, we should be 
diligent to discover the conditions 
of the needy and, second, give 
the necessary assistance dictated 
by the circumstances. 

Failure to manage economic 
affairs — In our efforts to exalt 
the poor, we must teach the 
management of financial affairs. 

Abraham Lincoln gave us a 
key when he said: 

You cannot bring about prosperity 
by discouraging thrift. 

You cannot strengthen the weak by 
weakening the strong. 

You cannot help the poor by de- 
stroying the rich. 

You cannot establish sound security 
on borrowed money. 

You cannot escape trouble by 
spending more than you earn. 

You cannot build character by tak- 
ing away a man's initiative and inde- 

You cannot help men permanently 
by doing for them what they could 
and should have done for themselves. 

I should think that the Relief 
Society can do much good in 
training the mothers in the prop- 
er handling of money — helping 
them to set up a budget and to 
teach the habits of thrift and 
home management. 

Indeed, a concentrated effort 
should be made in this respect, 
for so many of our people have 
little understanding of the prin- 
ciple of budgeting and making 

Benjamin Franklin told of the 
effectiveness of this virtue. He 

In 1733 I sent one of my journey- 
men to Charleston, South Carolina, 
where a printer was wanting. I fur- 
nished him with a press and letters, 

on an agreement of partnership by 
which I was to receive one third of 
the profits of th& business, paying 
one third of the expense. He was a 
man of learning and honest but ig- 
norant of the matters of account, and 
tho' he sometimes made me remit- 
tance, I could get no account from 
him, nor any satisfactory state of our 
partnership while he lived. On his 
decease the business was continued 
by his widow, who being born and 
bred in Holland, where as I have 
been informed, the knowledge of ac- 
counts makes part of a female educa- 
tion, she not only sent me as clear a 
statement as she could find of the 
transactions past, but continued to ac- 
count with greatest regularity and 
exactness every quarter afterwards, 
and managed the business with such 
success that she not only brought up 
respectably a family of children, but 
at the expiration of the time was able 
to purchase of me the printing house 
and established her son in it. 

Sisters, the bishops have been 
charged by the Lord with the re- 
sponsibility of managing the af- 
fairs of the poor — they need 
your help to avoid waste, to teach 
mothers to operate their homes 
on a budget, not to overextend 
themselves financially, learn to 
live simply, overcome extrava- 
gant habits, and avoid unneces- 
sary debt. 

Idleness — This problem is, no 
doubt, caused by environment 
and, although it has been stated, 
''He that is idle shall not eat the 
bread ... of the laborer," it does 
not relieve us of the responsibili- 
ty to help, but rather gives us a 
challenge to teach the idler the 
blessings of labor that he may 
enjoy the virtue of industry. 
Once having been taught this, it 
will add greatly to his character. 

Lack of Education — Today, 
one of the serious problems is 
the lack of training and educa- 
tion of those unemployed. In this 


APRIL 1964 

day of mechanical advancement 
and automation, specialized and 
technical training is a must to 
continuous emplo3mient. 

"During periods of unemploy- 
ment," one prominent financial 
writer states, "there are four 
times as many men with less 
than high school education un- 
employed as compared to those 
men with more than a high school 
education." With more schooling, 
men not only tend to have more 
job security but also tend to earn 

The United States Department 
of Labor has published statistics 
based on the 1958 Census figures 
which compare the average earn- 
ings of high school graduates, 
high school "dropouts," and 
eighth grade graduates. These 
figures indicate that a high school 
graduate's earning capacity is 
greater by approximately $2,000 
a year. Let's reduce this figure 
to $1,500 for illustrative pur- 
poses. Using this figure, if a 
young man should at age twenty- 
one deposit his extra earnings 
each year in the bank at 4% 
interest compounded semiannu- 
ally, at the age of sixty-five he 
would have saved $176,874.21. 
To find out how much each day 
of high school attendance would 
be worth in terms of probable 
future lifetime earnings, let us 
divide the $176,874.21 by 700 
days of high school attendance. 
Each day spent in high school 
would thus be worth $252.67. The 
difference between the probable 
lifetime earnings of a person with 
four or more years of college, as 
compared with the high school 
graduate, would be approximate- 
ly $3,000 a year. 

You will recognize that the 

failure of youth to seek adequate 
education and training may be- 
come a serious handicap through 
their whole life. President David 
O. McKay states, "Students enter 
school primarily to gain economic 
and social advantage. But this 
aim is not always achieved, nor is 
it, nor should it be, the highest 
purpose of education. However, 
we must not underestimate the 
value of obtaining an education 
for a livelihood. Education for 
economic advancement is a good 
investment for the individual as 
well as for the state." '^ 

Many mothers do not realize 
the importance of seeing that 
their sons and daughters secure 
the proper education needed to 
keep pace with the demands of 
employment. We must take ad- 
vantage of every opportunity to 
teach and warn parents of the 
serious consequences that arise 
when children become school 

Handicap — What a wonderful 
thing it would be for the Relief 
Society in the wards to seek out 
the handicapped; to see what 
might be done to provide a pro- 
gram to have them feel the thrill 
of achievement. 

Death — Particular attention 
should be given to every family 
where death strikes. The love 
and warmth rendered by the Re- 
lief Society have been so bene- 
ficial. Where serious problems 
arise because of the passing of 
the father or mother, special at- 
tention is to be given by the Re- 
lief Society under the direction 
of the bishop. 

Thus, in summary, some of the 
responsibilities of the Relief So- 
ciety in the welfare program are: 



1. To assist the Priesthood in ren- 
dering immediate help and the ulti- 
mate rehabilitation of the needy. 

2. To strengthen the homes and 
train the mothers in the arts of home- 
making, including financial manage- 

3. To teach mothers the necessity 
of adequate training and education 
for their sons and daughters. 

4. To administer to the needs of 
the sick and the handicapped. 

5. To bring comfort and under- 
standing to families where death is 

6. To live the principles of the gos- 
pel — teach by example and precept. 

In closing, let me suggest the 
words of our prophet David O. 

McKay, ''The greatest blessings 
that will accrue from the Church 
Security Plan are spiritual. Out- 
wardly, every act seems to be 
directed toward the physical — 
remaking of dresses and suits of 
clothes, canning fruits and vege- 
tables, storing foodstuffs, choos- 
ing of fertile fields for settlement 
— but permeating all these acts, 
inspiring and sanctifying them, 
is the element of spirituality." 

May the Lord bless us as we 
serve together in this great 
welfare program is my humble 
prayer. And I ask it- in the name 
of Jesus Christ. Amen. 

^The Relief Society Magazine VI, 129 

'^The Church Welfare Plan, page 2 

^Mt. 19:21 

^ James 1:27 


^The Church Welfare Plan, page 3 

^The Church Welfare Plan, page 44 

^As a Man Thinketh, page 8 

91 Tim. 5:8 

loRelief Society Minutes, March 17, 


^^ Gospel Ideals, page 429 

Neighbor Child 

Margery S. Stewart 

She does hot wait to be asked in, 

Rings the bell . . . darts under my arm, 

Skips like a sparrow around 

The minutes, picking up brief worms 

Of my greeting. 

I love you, she says. 

The words are three sickles. 

We stand waiting. 

She must see all the windows at once, 

Ask all the questions in a tumble, 

Put the pale tongue of her finger 

On everything she passes, 

I love, she says. 

Everything becomes still. . . . 

Waiting. . . . 

Like a pond for another pebble perhaps? 


Like the kitten for another leap 

From the long dead cicada? 


I look at the child and she looks 

At my mouth . . . willing it to form 


I love, she says; 

The teacher waits in her eyes. 

I love you, I say unhappily. 

She takes the three stones, 

Blesses them. 

And departs. 


Marjorie C. Pingree Appointed to the General Board 

Elizabeth B. Winters 


General Board of Relief Society 

Marjorie Cannon Pingree was 
appointed to the General Board 
of Relief Society on January 15, 
1964. She was born in Salt Lake 
City, Utah, a daughter of Lewis 
M. Cannon (son of Angus M. 
Cannon, who served as president 
of Salt Lake Stake for twenty- 
eight years) and Mary Alice 
Cannon, daughter of George Q. 
Cannon. Her mother died when 
she was five years old, and her 
father, who had served as a 
bishop for twenty-two years, died 
when Marjorie was in college. 

Mrs. Pingree was educated in 
the Salt Lake City schools, was 
graduated from the University 
of Utah, and taught school for 
three years. She has served in 
many positions of leadership in 
the Church, including ward Pri- 
mary president; a member of the 
Ensign Stake Primary Board; 
YWMIA teacher and counselor 
in her ward; president of Ensign 
Second Ward Relief Society; lit- 
erature class leader in her ward. 
Literature has always held special 
interest for her. 

In 1928 Marjorie Cannon and 
J. Fred Pingree were married 
in the Salt Lake temple. Brother 
Pingree is a Salt Lake City busi- 
ness man. He has served as 
Ensign Stake clerk and has 
been a member of the stake High 
Council for fifteen years. The 
Pingrees have four children: 
Patricia (Mrs. Vernon B. Rom- 

ney), who served as a stake mis- 
sionary in Washington, D.C., and 
is now a member of the General 
Board of the Primary Associa- 
tion; J. Fred, Jr., who served as 
a missionary in Central America; 
George C, who served in the New 
England Mission, and is now a 
medical doctor with the armed 
forces in France; John C, who 
served a mission in Argentina. All 
of the sons were called as coun- 
selors to their respective mission 
presidents. The daughter and 
sons, like their parents, are all 
graduates of the University of 
Utah. She has nine grandchildren. 
Sister Pingree brings to the 
General Board her outstanding 
ability, experience, a gracious 
personality, devotion to the 
Church, and a willingness to 


Darlene C. Dedekind Appointed to the General Board 

Irene W. Buehner 


General Board of Relief Society 

Darlene Christensen Dedekind 
was appointed to the General 
Board of Relief Society, January 
15, 1964. She has accepted this 
responsibility with a sweet spirit 
of humility and willingness to 
serve our Heavenly Father. Her 
wide background of rich spiritual 
experience in Church service ably 
qualifies her for her new position. 

Sister Dedekind is the daugh- 
ter of Emilius A. and Ellen J. 
Pehrson Christensen. She was 
born in Fairview, Utah. Her 
father was a convert from Copen- 
hagen, Denmark. These two de- 
voted Latter-day Saints endowed 
their children with an abiding 
appreciation for the gospel, as 
well as a gift for gracious living. 
The family has lived in Salt Lake 
City, Kansas City, Minneapolis, 
and Chicago. After one year of 
college she was called to serve in 
the Texas Mission under Presi- 
dent ElRay L. Christiansen. She 
has attended the University of 
Utah and the University of Min- 

On July 25, 1941, in the Salt 
Lake Temple, she was married 
to Dr. Kenneth L. Dedekind, an 
oral surgeon. They are the 
parents of three lovely daughters, 
Kendra Lyn, a junior at the Uni- 
versity of Utah; Deborah Ceanne, 
a freshman at the University of 
Utah; and Sandra Jo, a junior at 
East High School. 

During the years Sister Dede- 

kind has demonstrated her love 
for the gospel and her leadership 
abihty by serving in YWMIA 
ward presidencies, Hillside Stake 
Primary presidency, and ward 
Relief Society presidencies. At 
the time of her appointment to 
the General Board she was serv- 
ing as a Monument Park Stake 
missionary, as well as a ward 
social science class leader. 

Sister Dedekind, faithful to 
her heritage, has created a com- 
pletely gracious, charming home 
for her family. She embodies and 
radiates the sterling qualities of 
dignity, gentility, and humility. 
Surely these attributes, coupled 
with her sincere testimony of 
the gospel and earnest desire to 
serve, will enable her to magnify 
the call which has come to her 
and add great strength to the 
General Board. 


Cleone R. Eccles 


to the General Board 

Jeanette M. Morrell 

Cleone Rich Eccles was ap- 
pointed to the General Board of 
the Relief Society on January 15, 
1964. She has a noble heritage, 
a fervent testimony of the gospel, 
a charming personality, and a 
background of travel and ex- 

She is the granddaughter of 
apostle Charles C. Rich, and the 
daughter of Dr. Edward I. Rich 
and Emily Almira Cozzens, pio- 
neers in the professional and 
cultural development of Weber 
County. Her mother was Mount 
Ogden Stake president of the Re- 
lief Society for twenty-three 
years, so she was reared in an 
atmosphere of the highest ideals 
of Relief Society. 

She attended the New England 
Conservatory of Music, where 
she received professional training 
on the violin. During her entire 
life she has been most generous 
in sharing her great talent. 

She married Royal Eccles in 
the Salt Lake Temple on August 
22, 1918. He passed away Feb- 
ruary 5, 1963. They are the 
parents of six children: Maren 
E. Hardy (Washington D.C.); 
Cleone E. Yeates (Salt Lake 
City, Utah); Claire E. Matthies 
(Ogden, Utah); Edward Rich 
Eccles (deceased); Myrelle E. 
Thomas (Salt Lake City, Utah); 
Justin Rich Eccles (Los Ala- 
mitos, California). 

She has been active in civic 

affairs, serving as a member of 
the Weber County Welfare Board 
from 1937 to 1955. 

In musical circles she served 
as a member of the Utah State 
Symphony Board. She was active 
in bringing the Community Con- 
cert Association to Ogden, and 
was vice-president of that organi- 
zation from 1935 to 1956. 

Her Church activities have in- 
cluded seven years as Sunday 
School teacher; four years as 
stake president of the Mount 
Ogden YWMIA; four years as 
president of the Twelfth Ward 
Relief Society; four years as 
president of the Mount Ogden 
Stake Relief Society; and five 
years as literature class leader 
in her home ward Relief Society. 

Her capacity for S3nTipathetic 
understanding and her unselfish 
desire to serve in any capacity, 
will make her a valuable member 
of the Relief Society General 


of the 

Relief Society 

T. Bowring Woodbury 
Former President, British Mission 

Your wonderful increase in Mag- 
azine subscriptions over last year 
is a great record, and attests 
to the devotion and dedication 
of the leadership group which 
I am privileged to address today. 
However, as I look at this 
outstanding body of women, I 
am reminded of the story of the 
Washington, D.C., tourist who 
was being driven in the cab 
around the city. As they came to 
one Federal building, over the 
archway were the words, "The 
past prologues the future." As 
the tourist pondered those words, 
he finally asked the cab driver 
what they meant. The "cabbie" 
replied, "That simply means, 
'You ain't heard nuthin' yet.' " 
And, I believe, as outstanding as 
the increase for this year is, "we 
ain't heard nuthin' yet," as far 
as you sisters are concerned. 

I am always impressed as I 
read the 12th Chapter of Revela- 
tion, and John recalls to us the 
great war in heaven when Satan 
and his angels were cast out, that 
this did not end the war; the 
battleground merely changed 

places. For, John tells us, "There- 
fore rejoice, ye heavens, and ye 
that dwell in them. Woe to the 
inhabiters of the earth and of 
the sea! for the devil is come 
down unto you, having great 
wrath, because he knoweth that 
he hath but a short time." 

We see Satan's influence every- 
where on the earth. We see it 
particularly in the magazines of 
the world, where we not only 
know pornography as common- 
place, but, worse almost than 
that, the innocuous articles in 
women's magazines that tell of 
the "thrill" of young mothers go- 
ing back to school to get their de- 
grees, and mothers leaving fami- 
lies to take positions that are 
challenging, etc., etc. Every in- 
fluence is exerted to take mother 
out of the home, away from chil- 
dren that need and yearn for her 
love, her presence, and her con- 
stant teachings. Alone, almost, 
stands The Relief Society Maga- 
zine, combating the influences of 
the evil one and fighting the 
fight down here where the battle 
still rages for men's souls. 


APRIL 1964 

In 1959 in Great Britain, when 
we organized the district auxil- 
iary boards to help prepare our 
people for stakehood, a challenge 
was issued to each division of 
the mission board. The first in- 
structions to the Relief Society 
Board were, ''The Relief Society 
Magazine should be in every 
member's home to increase the 
spirituality, to combat evil in- 
fluences, to improve the at- 
tendance at Relief Society, and 
to help the family to be home- 
centered in its life." It was sug- 
gested that The Relief Society 
Magazine was the mortar that 
would hold these objectives to- 
gether and build a strong build- 
ing of preparedness for stakehood. 
It was outlined that The Relief 
Society Magazine would be the 
stimulator, the motivator, and 
the blueprint for perfection and 
progress in personal lives, in 
family life, and in organizational 
accomplishment in the mission. 

How well the sisters succeeded 
in their objective is seen in the 
fact that, for the first time in 
British Mission history, in 1960, 
107% of the members' families 
took The Relief Society Maga- 
zine, and the mission was on the 
Honor Roll. In 1961, the British 
Mission led all missions of the 
Church, with 147% of the fami- 
lies taking the Magazine. And as 
far as accomplishing the purpose 
of preparation for stakehood, 
where there were no stakes in 
1959, there are now six stakes in 
the original British Mission. Out 
of this wide circulation came 
some wonderful stories that show 
The Relief Society Magazine is 
great for husbands, that it is an 
ideal missionary, and that the 
Magazine reactivates members 

and brings within them a desire 
to serve. 

For example: Roy Caddick, 
now in the stake presidency of 
the Manchester Stake, is a 
schoolteacher. He had complete- 
ly forgotten his assignment to be 
the teacher-speaker at a faculty 
meeting on Monday morning. 
When he awakened to his assign- 
ment early on Monday morning, 
all he had in his pocket was his 
wife's copy of The Relief Society 
Magazine. He became absorbed 
reading the literature lesson on 
Shakespeare's Hamlet. Standing 
to give his talk, he repeated what 
he had read in the Relief Society 
literature lesson. When he had 
completed his talk, the head- 
master arose and said something 
like this: *'We want to compli- 
ment Mr. Caddick on his excel- 
lent preparation. I don't know 
how many books he must have 
read to give us this compre- 
hensive and fresh talk on Shake- 
speare's Hamlet, but I do know 
it has been the finest faculty talk 
we have had this year. We com- 
mend him for his example, and 
for his study." 

As a missionary. The Relief 
Society Magazine has no peer. 
One of the ardent solicitors in the 
British Mission saw a new sister 
in church. She asked her to sub- 
scribe to The Relief Society Mag- 
azine. She did so, even though 
this was her first visit to a 
strange church. With each suc- 
ceeding copy she became en- 
grossed in this great women's 
Magazine that taught every good 
facet of life. She was inspired by 
the theology lessons. She was en- 
grossed in the social science les- 
sons. She was interested in the 
culture of the literature lessons. 



And she was really excited about have read with Sister Woodbury 

the work meeting suggestions, her lessons, as she has prepared to 

Surely, the Church that pub- teach, first the literature lessons, 

lished such an uplifting and well- then the theology lessons, and, 

rounded Magazine must be currently, the social science les- 

inspired. She began coming to sons. I think the Magazine is 

Relief Society, and her discus- better today than it has ever 

sions with the missionaries were been — in content, in uplift, and, 

merely perfunctory; she had al- surely, in make-up. I think the 

ready been converted by the covers of recent months have 

Magazine. been frame-worthy — each of 

As a means of binding one to them. The new headings in color 

the Church, fellowshipping a new are exciting, and the practical 

convert, or even bringing one articles such as "Stretching the 

back into activity. The Relief Food Budget" present worthwhile 

Society Magazine stands alone, ideas for this day of devalued 

For instance: a new member went dollars, 
to Relief Society for the first 

time and subscribed to the Mag- Now, I would like to issue a 
azine. The woman giving the challenge to all of you sisters 
lesson evidently was unprepared, who represent the leadership of 
and our new member was very Magazine sales in your stakes, 
disinterested to the point that missions, and districts. The 
she thought she would not go Savior held out perfection to us, 
again. Shortly, the Magazine be- which, to me, means 100%. There 
gan arriving in her home. She should not be a single Relief So- 
read it from cover to cover. When ciety in this Church which is not 
she came to the lesson material getting 100%. That is assumed! 
that the unprepared sister had That is perfection! But more 
poorly given, she read it and than that, the Savior said that 
thought, why this is beautiful, those who should ask you to go 
I guess I didn't understand it. one mile, ''go with him twain." 
She decided she must be a part In other words, go the extra mile! 
of the discussion of the lessons If you are asked to go one, go 
which she was enjo3dng reading, two! I would like to challenge 
The Magazine had aroused her every Relief Society to get 200% 
interest, rejuvenated her spirit, as a minimum goal for 1964. If 
and rekindled her desire to be a every member is a missionary 
part of the kingdom. and every member is to bring in 

Yes, The Relief Society Maga- another member, I can't think of 

zine is a great power, an in- a finer way to begin this accom- 

fluence, and a factor of worth in plishment than by giving a sub- 

our fight with Satan. I have been scription to your fine neighbor 

reading it for thirty-five years, friend who is a non-Mormon, or 

When on my first mission to getting her to subscribe to this 

Switzerland, as a young boy, I spiritual, uplifting Magazine. Let 

was given the assignment of us all go the extra mile and get 

working with the Relief Society, that extra mile smile in 1964 

In our thirty years of marriage, I with 200%. 




Lila Spencer Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada 

At four o'clock that winter day 
a slender girl with the still, pale 
face of a cameo climbed aboard 
the bus. It was almost dusk, and 
a brisk wind whipped Miriam's 
fur coat about her legs as she 
stepped up. There were only four 
other passengers. A mother in a 
worn cloth coat occupied one seat, 
and beside her was a lunch ham- 
per. Her two little girls in red 
snowsuits and red mittens bounced 
up and down in the seats behind 
her, chanting, ''We're going to 
visit Grandma! We're going to 
visit Grandma!" They stopped 
just long enough to call out a 
merry "Hi!" in Miriam's direc- 
tion. Across the aisle and a few 
seats back, a young man in spec- 
tacles nervously checked through 
a bulging briefcase. The motor of 
the bus had been purring quietly 
for some time before the driver 
walked through and took their 
tickets. Then he folded himself 
into the driver's seat with a 
quizzical glance out the window, 
and the bus began to move. 
Miriam tried to relax in her 

seat, ignoring the friendliness of 
the children. Ever since the un- 
expected termination of her en- 
gagement the week before, she 
had been an automaton, armored 
against the world, numb and 
frozen. After a sudden decision 
in the night she had hurried all 
day to get away. Escape and 
isolation — that was what she 
wanted. Were they the answer to 
her unhappiness? She snuggled 
down in her fur coat and buried 
her face in its collar. Her heart 
felt as bleak as the cold gray city 
streets outside. Mechanically, 
with cold eyes, she watched the 
changing winter scene as the bus 
left the city limits and moved 
into the country. As she glanced 
at the evening sky a faint fore- 
boding touched her. She looked 
at the highway, and snow was 
sifting across the road in quick 
continuous series like troubled 
ripples on windswept water. 
There was nothing to worry 
about yet. There was something 
comforting in the chatter of the 
little girls and the rustling papers 



of the young man. The miles 
sped by; Miriam dozed. A sudden 
lurching of the bus awakened 
her, and then she, as all the 
others, was on the edge of her 
seat, staring with worried eyes 
at the road ahead. The ripples 
had become waves of snow that 
whipped across the road in great 
gusts. In the nearby fields the 
cattle, hoary with snow, stood 
with their backs humped against 
the storm. The bus was traveling 
much slower; it swayed with the 
heavy gusts. 

Miriam turned her eyes from 
the road to look at her fellow 
passengers. The mother still sat 
on the edge of her seat and 
looked outside with growing ap- 
prehension. Behind her the chil- 
dren peeked solemnly out the 
window. The young man shifted 
restlessly and with tense fingers 
tapped an irregular rhythm on 
his briefcase. At the front the 
driver crouched over the steering 
wheel and peered closely through 
the windshield. The storm con- 

It was dark now, and they had 
changed directions and were driv- 
ing into the storm. In order to 
see at all the lights of the bus 
had to be on low beam. The 
snow came at them like millions 
of fierce, ice-tipped needles. The 
bus rocked and shook with the 
fury of their attack. All about 
them was the roar and the vibra- 
tion. The driver muttered under 
his breath, and tried to see out 
the coated windshield. The wiper 
groaned as it made a feeble effort 
to clear a space. The bus inched 
along, and after a tense interval 
crawled to a stop outside a small 
restaurant in a village with an 

impossible Indian name. Miriam 
remembered it from other trips. 
It served as the bus stop for the 
area. To the girl it was almost 
primitive, n o electricity, no 
plumbing, just gasoline lamps 
and two buildings at the back 
of the lot. The driver stood up 
on cramped legs, and pushing up 
his cap with a tired hand, said 
wearily, ''This is as far as we can 
go. We'll wait out the storm 
here." He led the way and held 
the door while they climbed out. 
The fury of the storm lashed out 
at them. The wind nearly blew 
them off their feet, and the snow 
slapped their faces. The children 
shouted and clung to their moth- 
er. They went into the restaurant 
in a herd. 

Inside was light and warmth. 
They stamped and brushed off 
the snow, and crowded around 
the small circulating heater, rub- 
bing chilled fingers, blowing 
noses, clearing throats. The 
young restaurant owner and his 
wife hurried to place steaming 
bowls of homemade soup on the 
counter. He told the driver, ''We 
were getting worried about you." 

At his urging they all sat down 
on the stools and took up their 
spoons. They were arrested by 
crisp tones from a small battery 
radio on the counter. "Blizzard 
warning continues. Motorists are 
urged to stay off the highways. 
All householders are asked to 
leave lights on by a window to 
guide lost travelers." 

They spooned down the thick, 
hot soup, and listened in silence 
to the news report: "An unprec- 
edented blizzard that surprised 
even the weatherman has lashed 
across the Canadian prairies 
with winds of sixty miles an 


APRIL 1964 

hour, gusts up to eighty-five, 
leaving hundreds of motorists 
stranded. Conditions are wors- 
ened by the twenty below zero 
temperatures. Heavy snowfall has 
disrupted communications and 
literally cut off many areas. 
However, the storm is expected 
to abate sometime during the 
night. At United Nations to- 
day. . . r 

There was much head shaking 
among the adults as they solemn- 
ly broke crackers and finished 
their simple meal. No one spoke. 
Miriam looked at the small cafe 
as if she had never seen it before. 
Last summer she had viewed 
with derision its gray walls, 
brown counter top, and two mus- 
tard-colored booths. Now she al- 
most felt affection for it. The 
kerosene lamp hanging from the 
ceiling spread out a warm, golden 
light that covered the obvious 
defects, muted the stark colors, 
and made it cheery and home- 

The adults did not hurry to 
get down from the stools. The 
children finished first and dis- 
covered a playful tabby kitten to 
tease. Their happy play was a 
pretty complement to the solemn 
tones of the grownups. 

After a time, the cafe owner 
came out of his living quarters 
behind the cafe with a high pile 
of blankets and quilts. His wife 
followed with three pillows. "I 
wish we had beds for you all, but 
we've only one back there, and 
Mary needs it." His young wife 
was obviously pregnant. *'Use 
these things to make yourselves 
as comfortable as you can. Pil- 
lows for the women and children." 

With quick resourcefulness the 
mother made a bed on the table- 

top in the far booth for the two 
little girls. She removed their 
shoes, tucked them in snugly. 
Then she kicked off her shoes, 
and wrapped herself in a blanket 
on the bench beside them. 
Miriam did the same. The driver 
and the young man settled down 
in the next booth; the young 
man kept the briefcase within 
reach, like a constant bedfellow. 
After the owner of the cafe had 
turned down the big hanging 
lamp, he and his wife retired to 
their quarters, leaving the door 

The roar of the storm filled the 
night. To Miriam it seemed that 
the house itself was bending with 
the storm. The very nails seemed 
to stretch and yield. She heard 
their creaking protest. The others 
were asleep. She listened to the 
even breathing of the children, 
the quiet shifting of the mother, 
the young man sneezing in his 
blanket, the driver snoring in a 
low key. From her hard bed she 
looked at the isinglass window of 
the heater and the warm embers 
winked back at her. 

The storm was abating. Now, 
the noise was a mournful moan- 
ing and a sad sobbing. It was like 
a woman with wild hair wailing 
in a wilderness. Miriam felt a 
strange kinship with her. The 
tears she had kept frozen inside 
her began to course down her 
cheeks as the icy core inside 
melted away. Her thoughts no 
longer chased about in a wild 
frenzy, but bathed themselves in 
her tears. After a time she dried 
her face. The fire through the 
tiny window still kept a friendly 
vigil. Outside, the storm con- 
tinued to retreat. The time of 



frenzy and woe was over. Now 
there was a low, murmuring 
sound, comforting like a mother's 
gentle lullaby. Hush! Hush! The 
girl slept. 

Miriam awoke next morning 
to happy children's voices. The 
adults, easing their cramped mus- 
cles, and yawning, took longer 
to get up. By the time Miriam 
was walking about, the young 
owner had already shaken down 
the fire and carried out the ashes. 
The young man, for once sepa- 
rated from his briefcase, thawed 
out a peephole in the frosted 
window of the front door, and 
invited the others to see for 
themselves. Miriam could hardly 
believe it was the same world. 
How peaceful! How still! A block 
away she saw the white village 
church with its steeple, as serene 
as the painted scene on a Christ- 
mas card. 

Everyone was jolly and friend- 
ly. The bespectacled young man 
parked his fat briefcase behind 
the counter and forgot about it. 
He borrowed the cafe owner's 
parka, boots, and heavy mitts, 
and shoveled wide paths to the 
outbuildings. It was cold. From 
the back window Miriam could 
observe him stop and slap his 
mittened hands vigorously 
against his thigh at intervals. He 
came in when his task was 
finished, with rosy cheeks and 
hoary eyebrows. He pushed his 
frosted spectacles up on his fore- 
head to clear the lens, and to 
Miriam it seemed that his eyes 
gleamed with satisfaction. 

Meanwhile, the bus driver 
went out to the bus to see if it 
would go. From inside they heard 
the motor's strangled sputterings 
and chokings. He coaxed it along 

until it roared in protest, then 
finally settled down to a resonant 
hum. He let it run awhile before 
he came back indoors, blowing 
on his fingers and rubbing his 
hands. Together, Miriam and 
the mother folded blankets and 
quilts and put them away. Then 
they took their turns at the 
washstand. The hand pump was 
temperamental. It creakingly re- 
fused to yield any water to 
Miriam's gingerly, inexperienced 

''Here, let me show you." The 
cafe owner pumped energetically, 
and water spurted out into the 
tin pail. "You weren't holding 
your face right," he teased her. 
The children thought it was fun 
to wash in the enameled basin. 
"Where are the taps?" the older 
asked. They only protested when 
their mother combed through 
their tangled hair. 

"Breakfast is ready," the 
young wife called. 

They sat down at the counter 
to a country breakfast — por- 
ridge, pancakes, bacon and eggs, 
and mugs of hot chocolate. No 
one hurried. It would be hours, 
they knew, before the highway 
was cleared. Miriam, to her 
amazement, found herself in- 
volved in a political discussion 
with the young man and the bus 
driver. She had not known that 
she had strong inclinations one 
way or another until they chal- 
lenged one of her random state- 
ments. She defended her opinions 
with fervor. She caught herself 
punctuating her remarks with 
jabs at the unoffending breakfast 
on her plate. The men laughed 
at her, and after a moment she 
laughed with them. 

The meal over, the children 


APRIL 1964 

looked through the toy catalog 
while the women chattered over 
the dishes. Afterwards, the young 
wife took the mother and Miriam 
to her bedroom. From a bottom 
drawer she brought out the tiny 
garments she had made for her 
expected baby. She lifted them 
from their tissue-paper wrap- 
pings and showed them with 
something akin to reverence on 
her freckled face. She might have 
been an empress displaying her 
jewels. From the restaurant they 
could hear the men loudly talk- 
ing about late model cars and 
hockey players. 

Miriam didn't realize it, but she 
came out of the bedroom with a 
forlorn face. The young man de- 
clared positively, "You need a 
walk in the snow. Bundle up and 
we'll take these kids for an out- 
ing. They're getting a bit bored 
with that catalog." The chil- 
dren excitedly ran for their snow- 
suits. Miriam put on her coat, 
but wisely laid aside her modish 
hat and felt boots with their 
ridiculous high heels. With a 
woolen scarf on her head, and 
borrowed overshoes, she felt more 
comfortable. The children ran 
outside like caged animals sud- 
denly liberated. 

"Yes," the young man said, 
as they followed them, "an ex- 
perience like this is good for us. 
We get down to the essentials 
and realize just how many of the 
things we work for and are con- 
cerned about are just the trap- 
pings of civilization. Doesn't this 
arouse your pioneer spirit 
though?" He trudged through the 
snow with purposeful strides, and 
Miriam followed in his tracks. At 
the edge of the field they caught 

up to the little girls who were 
bent over something small and 
dark on the snow. It was a frozen 
field mouse. 

"Is it dead?" The older girl 
raised stricken eyes. 

"Yes," the young man an- 
swered. "It got lost in the storm, 
I guess." 

"Why didn't it stay in its own 
little home?" asked the little one. 

"Why? Probably because it 
was hungry." They found a shel- 
tered hole by a tree, and covered 
the mouse over with snow. 
"There, it's safe now," they told 
the children. 

"Let's go tell Mama about it," 
one suggested, and the two of 
them turned back across the 

"Just a little mouse," mused 
the young man, "and yet for me 
it poses all the major questions 
of life and death. I had a little 
mouse once, the smallest, ugliest 
little creature I had ever seen." 

As they slowly followed the 
little girls he told Miriam how 
he had visited his grandfather's 
farm when he was a lad of six. 
They had gone for a walk in the 
fields one day and had found a 
mouse nest that had been run 
over by a hay rake. The mother 
and all her babies except one 
were dead. His grandfather 
wished mercifully to kill the 
little mouse, for it was less than 
an inch long, with no hair, only 
rudimentary ears and eyes — a 
pink squirming mite was all it 
was, with a hungry mouth and 
a pathetic, thread-like tail. He 
had begged for the mouse for a 
pet, and for a day he had kept 
it alive, feeding it warmed milk 
from an eye dropper, putting it 
to sleep in a soft little bed. How 



it had thrilled him to hold its She felt as unmarked by bitter- 
tiny vibrant body in his fingers, ness as the snow before them. 
But it had died and he had been How foolish to think she could 
heartbroken. Why he kept ask- cut herself off from others — 
ing — why? His grandfather had how foolish to want to hide. Re- 
tried to explain. side her the young man was mut- 

''Why? Only God knows. May- tering, almost to himself, **I 

be it was because we didn't know hadn't thought about that mouse 

how to care for it. Maybe we fed for years." They walked slowly 

it too much — maybe we handled through the peaceful fields, 

it too often. Never mind, lad. About noon the snowplow 

It's for the best. Never regret cleared the highway. It passed 

the love you gave the wee mite, in a shower of snow and a wave 

It was not wasted, boy, it was from the driver's furry gauntlet, 

not wasted." The bus driver warmed the 

It was not wasted. The words motor, and the children skipped 

warmed Miriam's heart. The ahead. It was with reluctance 

peace that had come to her in that the older passengers said 

the night was strengthened now goodby to the cafe owner and his 

by this wisdom. She saw it clear- wife. At the last minute the 

ly now. Her love, even though it young man remembered that he 

had ended in disappointment and had forgotten his briefcase, and 

heartbreak, and her unhappiness ran back for it. Miriam shared a 

even, were not wasted emotions, seat with the young mother; the 

For a time they had seemed like children swung their legs in the 

last night's storm, unpredictable seats ahead. The young man and 

and destructive, but she knew his briefcase sat across the aisle, 

now they were, instead, a disci- They smiled companionably at 

pline and a preparation for one another as the bus moved 

better, more lasting relationships, onto the highway. 

Enchanted Valley 

Sylvia Probst Young 

There is a valley where the spring will come, 
A quiet place, between the snow-crowned hills, 
Where winging birds may find a welcome home, 
And wooded lanes will shelter daffodils. 

There is a valley where small brooks will glide 
Across warm pasture lands, through banks of cress; 
And where a plowboy whistles to the sky. 
And fresh-turned soil awaits the rain's caress. 

There is a valley where the spring will come 
Across the waiting fields when April's new, 
A quiet valley bounded by God's hills. 
And where my heart shall keep a rendezvous. 


to w 




Spring's Impulse 

Thelma J. Lund 

Where shall I find spring's impulse — 
In a hollow of buttercup gold 
along the curve of a stream bank 
where blades of green unfold? 

Here in a woodland meadow 
where violet petals stain 
the earth and breathe their fragrance 
after an April rain? 

There in a shallow of water, 
the hue of a bluebird's wing, 
where a cloud's reflection 
floats slowly, rippling? 

Or is this elusive impulse 
merely a whim of weather 
awakened by the soundless 
falling of a robin's feather? 

Don Knight 


More Blessed to Receive 

Nita Ellis 
Penarth, Glamorganshire, South Wales 

Well, you're on your way home, 
Susan. Glad?" Douglas, big and 
tow-haired, smiled at his wife, 
sitting listlessly beside him in 
the car. He noted, with a pang, 
that her pretty blue suit fitted 
her more loosely than it had done 
six week ago. 

"Of course, darling!" She said 
it quietly — too quietly. And be- 
cause they had been close to one 
another for so many years, he 
understood at once. 

"Now, you don't have to take 
it that hard. It won't hurt you 
to let others do the jobs you've 
always done. I've got it all ar- 
ranged. Mrs. James is to come 
every day instead of once a week, 
and we'll have a nice, quiet holi- 
day somewhere." 

"I don't want a nice quiet holi- 
day, Doug. I just want to do my 
own housework, and not watch 
someone else doing it." 

His smile became wry, as 
though he realized the futility of 
trying to placate her. He said 
nothing, his anxious, gray eyes 
fixed on the dusty road ahead. 

I shall never get used to it, 
she thought, miserably, never. 
The memory of the hospital sur- 
geon's advice, bluntly matter-of- 
fact, brought her near to tears. 

"You've led a very active life, 
Mrs. Stratton," he had said, 
"now you must reorganize things, 
so that you take it more easily. 
If you do that, you can expect 
to have as many more years as 
most of us. If you don't, this 
trouble will certainly flare up 
again, and then. . . ." He had 
left the sentence unfinished, but 
his eloquent shrug had left a 
bleakness in Susan's tired face. 

Now, with the car purring its 
way through the busy town to 
the outskirts, and the new house 


APRIL 1964 

to which they had moved only a into the coolness of the hall, 

short time before Susan's illness, It smelled of polish and was 

she gathered the last twenty-five brilliant with flowers. In the big 

years together in her thoughts, living room the table was laid 

all of them busy, vital, active, with her best china, bowls of 

She had taken so much more in fruit and jellies colorful against 

her stride besides marriage and her gossamer lace cloth. In the 

family. The many varied Church place of honor stood a large iced 

interests, her garden, the flower cake, with "Welcome Home" 

arrangement classes that had written on it. 

grown into a local society, the "Everyone's been so good," 

old people who had come to rely Cathy told her. "Mrs. Elliott 

on her visits in times of bad brought the cake this morning, 

weather — the list was endless. From the Relief Society, with 

And now. . . . love, she said. And those flowers 

She watched the fields, green in the hall were sent, already 

with summer, and tall trees that fixed in the containers, from the 

curtseyed in the warm breeze Arrangement Society." 

against the blue softness of the That really was thoughtful, 

sky, but her mind was shut What a lot of work went into 

against the beauty of the tender those kindnesses. The ready tears 

afternoon. Lulled by the heat, threatened again, as Susan leaned 

she dozed, drooping a little back in the comfortable chair, 

against her husband's shoulder, trying to overcome them, 

her dark hair spraying into "Your father says that you 

curves across her damp brow, have managed splendidly, Cathy," 

she said, at last. 

The sound of a familiar bark "Of course. Mum. I brought 

startled her, and she opened her Peter with me, and Mrs. James 

eyes to see Wilkie leaping down kept an eye on him, while I did 

the path, in an ecstatic flurry of the shopping and cooking. I was 

doggy welcome. She was home! always home in time to collect 

The rose-red brick house was the twins from school and fix 

sun-mellowed, its windows spar- Tom's meal. He sends his love 

kling. Cathy, looking fresh and — coming over tomorrow." 
pretty, in a white linen frock, 

was standing at the gate, with Susan felt as though the rela- 

one-year-old Peter in her arms, tionship between them had been 

"Lovely to have you back, reversed. She had always thought 

Mum," she called, happily, as that Cathy needed help, with an 

Douglas helped his wife care- old-fashioned house, a lively 

fully from the car. baby, and twins only just five. 

Susan's face lighted up as she But the young woman who spoke 

encircled her daughter's slim so confidently, had a brisk ca- 

waist, and stroked Wilkie's mad- pable air that disconcerted her. 

ly bobbing head. She savored the "I don't know what we should 

warm velvet of her grandson's have done without you," Susan 

tiny head against her cheek for admitted. Cathy's answering 

a long moment before stepping smile was a serene acceptance of 



her own capabilities, instead of 
the glow of a girl paid an un- 
expected compliment. 

Through the window, Susan 
could see the flower beds, still 
bare, framing the new lawn. No 
one had touched the garden, she 
thought. I don't think I could 
have borne it, if they'd done that 
job for me. Conscious of the 
silence, she said, stubbornly, "I'd 
planned to do everything myself 
— the rose circle — rockery — 
all of it. There's no satisfaction 
like working on new ground with 
your own hands." 

"Don't worry, dear, we'll see 
to it," her husband promised, 
cheerfully, but she shook her 

Douglas had done all the hard- 
est preparation in their former 
garden, but he hadn't the feeling 
for growing things, as Susan had. 
It had never mattered that he 
had brains but no skill with his 
hands, as that plot of earth had 
been all hers, and she was proud 
of her green fingers. 

"It wouldn't be the same," she 
replied, gently. 

The tiny, awkward pause was 
broken by the sound of a gate 
slamming, feet skidding over the 
shining floor, and her son hurt- 
ling through the room. 

"Lo, Mum." He gave her a 
brief, rough hug, thrusting a posy 
of tight, pink rosebuds into her 
hands. "Gosh, I'm glad you're 
back! What we got to eat?" He 
registered approval of the loaded 
table with a grinning "Wow! Get 
a load of that cake!" 

The tension was eased, and 
Susan ran fond blue eyes over 
the sturdy rosy-cheeked figure in 
the slightly faded jeans. He had 

not been allowed to visit her in 
the hospital because he was only 
ten and she had missed him. 

"Thanks, Kenny," she said, 
lifting the blooms, and inhaling 
their perfume. "They're lovely." 

"Thought they'd go into old 
Noddy's cart." Kenny began to 
set chairs around the table. "See- 
ing you got no flowers growing 

"Go and wash your hands, 
son." Douglas spoke sharply, and 
Kenny stared at him. 

"Take Noddy with you," sug- 
gested his mother. "Run a little 
water in, and you can arrange 
them for me." She turned to the 
recess where the little donkey 
and cart, modeled out of cream 
and brown pottery usually stood. 

"I put it away. Mum," ex- 
plained Cathy. "In the hall cup- 
board, Kenny — back of the top 
shelf. I wasn't having it broken 
while I was in charge," she went 
on, "I put your favorite orna- 
ment out of Pete's way." 

It was a happy meal. Kenny 
kept them laughing, and baby 
Peter, bolstered by cushions, 
lolled contentedly, at his gran- 
nie's side. Douglas touched his 
wife's fingers, as she passed 
plates, and the small, sweet con- 
tact eased the pain of knowing 
that he would never completely 
understand how she felt about 
the surgeon's verdict. 

Long after Douglas was asleep 
that night, Susan lay, watching 
the sparkle of moonlight netted 
in the branches outlined against 
her window. Her body was taut 
and unrelaxed, while mentally, 
she took up, one by one, thoughts 
of the future. To be still was 
only to be half alive. Oh, yes, she 


APRIL 1964 

could cut down on a few things, 
but not all of them. If she was 
busy, she was happy — and, sure- 
ly, if she was happy, she would 
be well, she argued to herself. 
She wasn't going to let them 
close in a protective circle around 
her, taking all her life away from 
her, doing the things she had 
always done. 

When Cathy left the following 
day, she took a bundle of laundry 
with her. 

"There's no need," Susan pro- 
tested, indignantly. 

"It's just that there's extra 
this week," Cathy said, trying to 
soothe her. "Mrs. James has had 
other things to cope with, and my 
washing machine's as good as 

Her smile was impish, affec- 
tionate, the kind she used to 
coax Peter out of a difficult 
mood, and the feeling of un- 
reality invaded Susan again. 

"I'm not an invalid, Cath." 

"No, dear, you're convalescent. 
Remember how you looked after 
me, when Peter was born?" 

"That was different." 

"It wasn't different at all. It's 
nice to be doing something for 
you. Couldn't you try looking at 
things that way? You've helped 
so many people, and they're all 
longing to say 'thank you.' I 
met Judy Elliott on the way here 
this morning, and she says she'd 
just love to plant the flower beds 
for you." 

"Thank you," said Susan, firm- 
ly, "but I don't want the garden 

"It will have to be done 
some time," Cathy pointed out 
with sweet reasonableness. "Bye, 
Mum. See you tomorrow." 

Her smile was unperturbed, 

and Susan, watching her wheel 
Peter down the drive, dashed 
away the weak tears that seemed 
to be always near the surface. 
Cathy, she reflected, was grown 
up in a way she had never been 
before. She seemed a competent 
stranger, as trimly efficient as 
the starched hospital nurse had 

AACHEN Douglas came home un- 
expectedly from the office some 
days later, he met Susan coming 
downstairs with her arms full of 
material. She looked at him de- 
fiantly. "I promised to make 
these up, before I went into 
hospital. There's nothing to a 
few hours sewing." 

"Those are for the club can- 
teen, aren't they? Surely some- 
one else could have taken over a 
job of that kind." 

"Judy Elliott offered to, but I 
wanted to do it, Douglas." 

"What else have you been do- 
ing?" he asked, gently, seeing her 
strained, pale face. 

"I sorted over the piece box 
to find scraps for the patchwork 
quilt we're making, and cut out 
some felt toys for the work meet- 
ing. Just quiet jobs. That's all." 

"Absolutely all?" he pursued, 

"Well, I just walked over to 
see the Wilsons. They have both 
been ill for months, and they love 
visitors. It wasn't far. Don't look 
so accusing." 

"It's too much, Susan. You're 
beginning again, taking up all 
the old jobs, and you can't do 

"You don't know how it feels 
to have people coming over to 
help, Mrs. James with the jam 
making, Cathy whisking away 



odd parcels of laundry, Judy of- 
fering to plant my garden. You 
can't understand how I hate tak- 

"You've always given." He 
drew the finished curtains from 
her. "Sometimes it's more blessed 
to receive, my dear." 

There was a babble of young 
voices outside, and Susan turned 
as the door burst open, to admit 
Jane and Tony, as alike as two 
peas in a pod. 

"Look, Grannie," they piped, 
"look what we've brought you — 

Brown earth and green stains 
smeared the chubby knees of the 
twins, and in their dusty warm 
hands they held tightly bundled 
dandelion heads. 

"To put in Noddy's cart," ex- 
plained Jane, breathlessly. Wav- 
ing her fistful of flashy gold, she 
ran to the window sill, where 
Noddy the donkey stood in har- 
ness between the chintz curtains. 
Excitedly she grabbed. There was 
a small gasp from Susan and a 
crash as the ornament hit a chair. 
The donkey lay on his side on 
the carpet his cart broken away 
from him. 

At the sight of grannie's face, 
Jane's round cheeks flushed and 
her brown eyes clouded. "I didn't 
mean to break Noddy, Grannie. 
I only wanted to put these lovely 
flowers in his cart. Please don't 
be cross. I couldn't help it." 

Tony put one grubby arm 
around his sister's shoulders. 
"They can mend it," he said 
with male nonchalance. "Mum- 
my's got some glue that can stick 

Susan's look rested on them, 
two hot, tired little scraps, with 

their carefully picked gifts still 
clutched against their panting 

Douglas thought he had never 
seen anything more graceful than 
the swift droop of his wife's body 
to receive those gifts. She buried 
her face in the yellow weeds, cry- 
ing out how beautiful they were. 
"I'll put them in the little green 
bowl — see? I'll put some water 
in it. And the donkey can be 
mended quite easily." She went 
out, the children dancing arounri 
her, their shrill delight filling the 

But after her daughter had 
taken her little ones home, Susan 
inspected Noddy unhappily. 

"It won't show, Susan," her 
husband said. "It broke at the 
right part, luckily." 

"Remember buying this little 
fellow?" Her voice quivered. 
"The first present you ever gave 
me." She fingered the small ani- 
mal lovingly. "All through the 
years, I've grown dwarf plants in 
a rockery, to supply his cart. I've 
never thought of him as a china 
figure, but a symbol. A reminder 
of the happiness we've shared. 
Now, he is patched up — he'll 
never be the same." Her face 
crumpled. "Like me — just like 
me!" The tears she had held 
back for so long flowed unheeded. 
She buried her face in her hands 
and sobbed. 

Douglas picked her up bodily, 
holding her close, waiting until 
she was calm enough to listen to 
him. "You make it difficult for 
us, darling. We all love you and 
want to help. We want you to 
get better." 

"Better for what? If I can't do 
the things I've always done. 


APRIL 1964 

what's left? Oh, I'm sorry, dear. 
I'm behaving badly, but I can't 
seem to help it." 

"You must, Susan," he told 
her calmly. "You've got to work 
this out for yourself. You know 
that." But as he bent over her, 
feeling the softness of her cheek, 
he doubted whether she ever 

The tension of inner conflict 
hung over the entire house. Its 
central point was the naked- 
looking garden that none of 
them dared touch. It would have 
been their contribution to Su- 
san's defeat. 

Kenny was too young to under- 
stand that, but the bare stretch 
beyond the French doors fretted 
him. He said to his father one 
day, "Aren't we ever going to put 
any flowers in the garden?" 

"I expect Mum will do some- 
thing about it, when she feels 
better. Ken," Douglas replied, 

Kenny frowned over his home- 
work, thinking about something 
one of the boys at school had 
told him. A party held in the 
garden instead of the house, 
where everyone brought a plant 
to put in the ground. Thoughts 
soon shaped into an idea that 
was both wonderful and simple. 
If his mother didn't feel like 
making the garden pretty, they 
could all get together and do it 
for her. It was just a question of 
getting enough people, and he 
knew most of those she worked 
with. The important thing was 
to keep it a secret from her. 

His mother was sewing in the 
living room. "What kind of flow- 
ers do you like best. Mum?" he 

"I like them all," she told him. 

"Oh, I just wondered. What 
sort would you like in your gar- 

"Ken!" his father said, hur- 
riedly, "isn't it almost your bed- 

After Kenny had gone, 
thoughtfully, upstairs, Susan 
said, "Poor old Ken. He can't be 
expected to know how I feel." 

"Are you going to leave it as 
it is?" Douglas asked. 

"I suppose I shall have to have 
something done," she conceded, 
reluctantly. "But I don't mind 
what. It isn't important." 

"It was, once, Susan." 

"Yes, but it was my garden, 
then. It was to have been my 
own achievement, and I suppose 
I just don't want to give it up." 

If she had been less preoccupied, 
she would have noticed the 
banded-together look that en- 
closed her family. 

"Somebody's got to do some- 
thing to wake Mum up, and 
make her realize how selfish she's 
being," Cathy had said to her 

"Selfish, Cath? Is that fair?" 

"Yes. How would she have felt 
if all the people she has helped 
had refused to accept anything 
from her?" 

The relationship between 
Cathy and her mother had 
changed, Douglas thought. Cathy 
was no longer the young house- 
wife, needing support and advice. 
He doubted, suddenly, whether 
that Cathy had existed, except 
in Susan's imagination. But it 
must be hard to realize that one 
was no longer indispensable, he 



thought, with a flash of compas- Susan's expression altered. Her 

sion. eyes shone as she watched her 

Some days later, Douglas took friends. "IVe been stupid to want 

Susan out for the afternoon and to be independent. See how 

when they returned, it was to happy they look!" 
find people, busy with trowels Walking towards them, her 

and boxes of plants, crowding the voice lifted, joyously, ''Douglas 

garden. has just told me what you have 

''What's this?" Susan de- planned. It's a wonderful sur- 

manded, her face tight with dis- prise, and the best present I've 

may. had in my whole life." 

Douglas turned her round to Kenny, disheveled and earnest, 

face him. "This was Ken's idea, appeared. "Is it a good garden 

We thought it a good one. These party. Mum?" 
are the folks you've helped for Susan's laugh held the old 

years. This is their way of thank- merry ring. "It's the best idea 

ing you — the labor of their you ever had. Ken," she assured 

hands. Are you going to tell them him, and, sensing that his Mum 

to leave, because it's your place, was herself again, he beamed, 
or accept the gifts we've brought, "Where d'you want these rose 

and will go on bringing as long trees put?" he asked, important- 

as you'll let us?" ly. 

QuintAf- fnr Spring 

Hazel Loomis 

He came with spring full in his face. 
Gone autumn's doubt, gone winter's seal. 
Spring's garlands wove a path of lace, 
A petaled spring was warm to feel. 

The earth was bright and garden-green 
Around about him where he knelt 
Within a maple-wooded scene. 
Oh, prayer, pierce sky! Oh, heaven, melt. 

And forge from rock a holy stream 
Of promise for a crying void 
Or wisdom's lack! 
Who was he to doubt the word? 

A blackness — battle-pitched until 
Spring burst, fire-opal bright. 
With words so clean 
They covered all the earth. 

Oh, many springs are woven there — 
A gentle path — a quiet wood — 
Where he came alone for prayer. . . . 
Tread lightly, lightly where he stood. 



Caroline Eyring Miner 
To Be Happy 

Everything has its beauty, but not everyone sees it," said Confucius. This 
idea is akin to the one of "taking your good time with you," in which case 
you are sure to have it. It is one of the great sins to have had the potential 
for happiness, which we all have, but to have failed in its realization. 

The older I grow, and the more people I meet who carry grudges against 
this person and that, against this circumstance and that, with innumerable 
alibis for not being happier, the more wonderful I think my mother was. 

Mother was an optimist. Some criticized her for her undiscriminating 
tastes, as they labeled them. She thought there was no lovelier house than 
hers that just grew like Topsy a room at a time. She loved the little sleepy 
farming community in which she lived. She loved all the people in that town, 
just for their particular peculiarities and qualities. She loved each of her 
children, together with all their faults, of which she seemed strangely unaware. 

She enjoyed every little thing: golden dandelions, no matter in what 
annoying place they might be growing; spicy yellow roses that grew wild 
all over the place and were a detestable nuisance to everyone else. She had 
a moving picture of color TV, long before the invention, in the magnificent 
Arizona sunsets, which she so extravagantly praised. She was one person on 
whom "nothing was lost" that could bring her happiness. 

The Listener's Part 

As a speaker in your service, I have a duty to deliver to you the speech I 
have prepared for you. You have a duty, too," the speaker continued. "Your 
responsibility is to listen and absorb and apply. Now, if you get through listen- 
ing before I get through speaking, just raise your hands and I'll stop." 

It worked like magic. With such a challenge, people listened and didn't 
get through before the speaker did. The very fact that they listened motivated 
them to gain from the talk. 

The listener's part is less dramatic than that of the speaker, but it is 
every bit as significant. When we are speaking we are only giving forth what 
we already know, but when we listen we may learn something new. 

Being Educated 

Being educated means to prefer the best not only to the worst but to the 
second best," said the philosopher, William Lyon Phelps. Often we are put 
on the spot to justify an education for a person if he does not make more 
money than an uneducated person, and surprisingly enough, many do not. 
The above quotation is one good reason for having an education — to 
raise one's tastes; to lift standards; to help one be satisfied with only the best 
— the best literature, the best homemaking, the best performance in any art. 
Especially is it necessary for one to set a high standard in Church service. 
Only excellence is worthy of the Lord. 



MP* m 


• ■ 


Ramona W, Cannon ^H 

Lt. Colonel Harriet W. Worley, of the 

United States Army Nurse Corps, re- 
ceived the Legion of Merit award, the 
Nation's second highest peacetime 
award, at Fort Douglas, Utah, in Janu- 
ary. Authorized by the President of the 
United States, the citation reads: "With 
rare foresight, mature judgment, keen 
and analytical ability and resourceful- 
ness, she developed the first Army 
Nurse Corps Career Management pro- 
gram, and was the innovator of formal 
nursing research and development in 
the Army." 

Mothers in Utah have the lowest In- 
fant mortality rate (20.3 per 1,000 
live births) in the United States, ac- 
cording to Dr. Joseph P. Kesler, Direc- 
tor, Department of Children's Services, 
Utah State Department of Health. 
Among the factors involved in this 
record, Dr. Kesler lists the following: 
a higher educational level of the moth- 
ers, resulting in better infant care; a 
relatively low rate of cigarette smoking 
by mothers; relatively good hygienic 
and sanitary standards in the home; 
and the birth of more than ninety-nine 
per cent of all Utah babies in hospitals. 

Mary G. Roebling, who is a bank presi- 
dent, predicts, "Within the next decade 
we will see a tremendous increase in 
the number of women occupying top 
managerial positions." 

Queen Frederika of Greece and her 
daughter. Princess Irene, twenty-two, 
arrived in New York January 22, for a 
brief visit in the United States. The 
Queen, a highly intelligent and well 
educated woman, received an hon- 
orary doctor of laws degree from 
Columbia University, and observed 
American television programs. 

Margaret Chase Smith, senior Senator 
from Maine, on January 27, entered 
the race for the Republican nomination 
for President of the United States. First 
woman to enter actively such a cam- 
paign in a major party, her name will 
be presented in primaries in New 
Hampshire and Illinois and probably 
in the District of Columbia and Ore- 
gon. Mrs. Smith served in the House 
of Representatives from 1940-1948 and 
in the Senate since 1948. She is noted 
for faithful attendance at Senate ses- 
sions and committee meetings, being 
a member of two powerful committees, 
the Aeronautical and Space Sciences 
Committee and the Armed Services 
and Appropriations Committee. 

There are 57,926,000 women of voting 
age in the United States. That is ap- 
proximately 3,828,000 more than the 
men of voting age in the country. 
Women could actually control political 
situations, but they rarely vote as a 
block. Polls show that more men than 
women are favorable to the idea of 
having a woman president. 



Volume bI " April 1 

umber 4 

Belle S. Spafford, President 
Marianne C. Sharp, First Counselor 
Louise W. Madsen, Second Counselor 
Hulda Parker, Secretary-Treasurer 

Relief Society Time at the New York World's Fair 

June 24-25, 1964 

As the Church has moved out of the wilderness since it was organized 
in 1830 so, under the guidance of the Priesthood, Relief Society has 
moved with it. As the gospel is brought to different nations, kindreds, 
tongues, and people, the divine organization for women — the Relief 
Society — is also constituted to do the work assigned by the Church 
to Church women. 

With the great impetus today from the inspired plans of accelera- 
tion in Church government. Relief Society, as the companion organi- 
zation to the Priesthood, moves forward in like tempo with expanded 
programs. Its Singing Mothers have won signal recognition in many 
parts of the Church, none greater than the 1961 International Chorus 
of Singing Mothers which combined singers from Utah with singers 
from the British Isles under the leadership of Sister Florence J. Mad- 
sen. Now, at the New York World's Fair, Singing Mothers Concerts 
are to be given under the direction of the General Board on the after- 
noons of June 24 and 25, 1964. The Singing Mothers will all be from 
the New York, New Jersey, Boston, Philadelphia, Washington, and Po- 
tomac Stakes. Mrs. Ellen Neilson Barnes, chorister of the Washington 
Stake Relief Society, will conduct the two concerts. Dr. Florence Jepper- 
son Madsen, chairman of the General Board's music committee, will be 
associated with Mrs. Barnes in presenting numbers at the concerts. 
Mrs. Barnes and Mrs. Madsen are both graduates of the New England 
Conservatory of Music and both are experienced in conducting Singing 


Anna B. Hart 
Edith S. Elliott 
Florence J. Madsen 
Leone G. Layton 
Blanche B. Stoddard 
Evon W. Peterson 
Aleine M. Young 
Josie B. Bay 
Alberta H. Christensen 
Mildred B. Eyring 
Charlotte A. Larsen 
Edith P. Backman 
Winniefred S. Manwaring 
EIna P. Haymond 

Mary R. Young 
Mary V. Cameron 
Afton W. Hunt 
Wealtha S. Mendenhal 
Pearle M. Olsen 
Elsa T. Peterson 
Fanny S. Kienitz 
Elizabeth B. Winters 
LaRue H. Rosell 
Jennie R. Scott 
Alice L. Wilkinson 
LaPriel S. Bunker 
Irene W. Buehner 
Irene C. Lloyd 

Hazel S. Cann 
Hazel S. Love 
Fawn H. Sharp 
Celestia J. Taylor 
Anne R. Gledhill 
Belva Barlow 
Zola J. McGhie 
Oa J, Cannon 
Lila B. Walch 
Lenore C. Gundersen 
Marjorie C. Pingree 
Darlene C. Dedekind 
Cleone R. Eccles 

Mothers Choruses. This activity sets a new pattern in General Board 
direction wherein the major responsibility is placed upon a geographic 
unit of the Church. Two concerts will take place on each of the after- 
noons of June 24 and 25 at the World's Fair Pavilion. This would seem 
a propitious time for Relief Society women everywhere who plan to 
attend the Fair with their families to make their visit to the Fair include 
these dates. 

Relief Society women will serve as hostesses at the Better Living 
Center at the Women's Hospitality Center under the direction of Anna 
Laura Stohl Cannon for the week of June 22-27. June 24 has been 
designated as Relief Society Day at the Better Living Center, at which 
time the Relief Society General Presidency will receive guests of national 
and international renown. This Center will serve as the official head- 
quarters for national and international women's organizations. Colonial 
Williamsburg is doing the interior decorating of this 5,000 square foot 
space which has been assigned to the Center. 

President Belle S. Spafford is a member of the Board of the 
Women's Advisory Council to the 1964-65 New York World's Fair. She 
works also under the direction of the World's Fair Committee of our 

It is hoped that Relief Society sisters everywhere will converge 
on the New York World's Fair June 24 or 25 to enjoy the Singing 
Mothers Concerts. 

— M. C. S. 


The previews for the 1964-65 lessons will appear in the June 1964 
issue of The Relief Society Magazine, and the lessons for October will 
be in the July 1964 issue. In order to obtain the June issue of the 
Magazine it will be necessary for renewals and new subscriptions to 
reach the General Offices by the first of May 1964. It is suggested 
that Magazine representatives check their Hsts immediately so that 
all Relief Society members wiU receive all of the issues containing 
the lessons. It is suggested that ward presidents make this announce- 
ment in the April meetings. 

The Warblers 

Dorothy J. Roberts 

They brought a song, a wisp of thread, 
They scanned the pine outside my sill 
For nesting a perennial mate. 
And something moved my wintering will. 

Song grew until a symphony 
Rose from the neighborhood of trees. 
And something, listening, aroused 
My waning wonder, hearing these 

Who weave their hopes above the street. 
Paired for flight into songful teams. 
Who build the bits I throw away 
Into a dwelling for their dreams. 


Cancer's Two Deadly Gaps 

American Cancer Society 

In cancer, in 1964, there are two deep, tragic gaps: the research gap 
and the education gap. Cancer research has accompHshed fifty per 
cent of its task. Today, it is possible cure to one half of all cancers. 
The remaining fifty per cent waits on new discoveries — bridging 
the research gap. The other gap — the education gap — could be 
bridged immediately. Lack of education cancels some of the benefits 
of research — by keeping about one out of every six cancer patients 
from the prompt diagnosis and the proper treatment that could 
save his life. In one year — this year — in this country, the educa- 
tion gap will cost about 90,000 hves — people who could be saved 
from cancer if they were properly educated and motivated to help 

Education could save: people who have not learned the seven 
danger signals that may mean cancer — or who fail to act on these 
signals; people who do not know that cancer can be cured if found 
early, hence avoid periodic health examinations; people who do not 
know what modem surgery, radiation, and drugs can do against 
cancer, hence avoid proper treatment or delay it too long for safety. 
The seven danger signals are: unusual bleeding or discharge; a 
lump or thickening in the breast or elsewhere; a sore that does not 
heal; change in bowel or bladder habits; hoarseness or cough; indi- 
gestion or difficulty in swallowing; change in wart or mole. 

To cure more, give more to the American Cancer Society! 

Earth Renewed 

Grace Barker Wilson 

I had forgotten how the earth is fair, 
The miracles of birds and butterflies, 
Till I saw wonder shining in her eyes, 
And shafts of sunlight making gold her hair. 

We gathered nuts and left them for the squirrels. 
We watched the wild canaries flash and dart 
From tree to tree. Again I felt a part 
Of mystery encompassing small girls. 

A bright leaf fallen from a maple tree, 
A fluffy cloud ship floating overhead, 
Were newly beautiful when sunset's red 
Reflected all her wonderment to me. 


Merle E. Feriante 

Clara floated gently, unhurried, 
through the anesthetic until the 
gleam of the delivery room ceiling 
brought her back to reality. 

''That didn't take long," she 
thought with drowsy relief. 

"You have a Httle girl." The 
doctor's pleasant voice caught 
her up with a jerk. 

"Is she all right?" She gave 
weak voice to the question first 
on a mother's tongue. 

"Yes," the doctor's voice re- 
assured her. She gave in to the 
lassitude that plagued her, float- 
ing gently to the haven of no 
pain. "But," he continued, pull- 
ing her rudely back, "she has 
something wrong with her stom- 
ach. A hernia, or something of 
that order." 

She forced herself to show 

"Oh?" Hernia operations were 
quite common. She began to drift 
away again, but the doctor 
wouldn't let her. 

"Let's go to the nursery so you 
can see her." Clara felt the table 
move under her and watched 

through pleasantly clouded vis- 
ion as the ceiling changed from 
white to cool green. 

The table stopped and a gentle 
hand on her cheek turned her 
face toward the nursery window. 
She forced herself to concentrate. 
The nurse, holding the baby, 
watched the mother's expression 
as she looked into the round face, 
eyes pinched tight, the little nose 
pressed flat into a red, soft- 
fleshed face, dark hair curled 
tightly to her head. 

"She weighs nine pounds and 
thirteen ounces," the doctor said, 
and the mother smiled weakly, 
breathed. . . . 

"She's beautiful!" The nurse 
with a deft hand, turned back 
the blanket to reveal the wrin- 
kled, red, freshly washed little 
body. There ! ! ! She saw but 
couldn't comprehend. She closed 
her eyes to shut out the sight 
and longed with all her heart to 
return to the safety of oblivion 
. . . anywhere just to get away 
from now. 

She felt a tear slide down her 



cheek and raised a hand to con- 
ceal her face. 

"What happened?" she whis- 
pered, sick with grief. She felt 
the gentle pressure of a hand on 
her shoulder, and looking up met 
the doctor's unflinching gaze. 

There was such concern there 
that she felt sorry for him and 
guilty also that she was causing 
him such anxiety. 

"We don't know how or why 
these things happen," he said 
gently, "perhaps she'll be all 
right. We'll just have to wait and 
see." But she had again covered 
her face, seeking privacy. 

"You had better put her to 
bed," he directed softly. 

The table moved and she let 
herself sink back into blessed un- 
awareness. She was dimly aware 
of gentle hands moving her, 
pillows flattened, and the warmth 
of heated blankets tucked around 
her. Someone was crying, some- 
where. Such heartbroken sobs. 
She wished they would stop. She 
didn't like to hear anyone cry. 

Something terrible must have 
happened, she thought. She 
opened her eyelids with great 
effort and discovered with sur- 
prise that it was she crying. She 
stopped abruptly, ashamed of her 
lack of control. Why was she 
crying? For herself? The baby? 
Disappointment? The uncertain- 
ty of the situation? She didn't 
know. She turned toward the 
sanctuary of the wall and invited 
the soothing balm of semi-con- 
sciousness again, but it was gone. 
It wouldn't return. So, there 
was to be no going back. What 
was ahead? It had finally hap- 
pened to her. She, too, had given 
birth to an imperfect child. That 

much was a faCt, but would it 
live? If it did, then what? Had 
they called her ^husband? Had 
they told him? What would he 
think? There were too many 
questions. She closed her eyes 
and hid her face in the pillow. 
Immediately she saw the baby. 
She opened her eyes frantically. 
She would not feel the same way 
about this baby as she had the 
others. She would not love it or 
get attached to it, that was her 
only hope. Then, if the baby 
should die, the loss wouldn't be 
so painful. She nodded her head 
firmly. Yes! That was the only 

She raised herself heavily and 
reached for the glass and tube 
beside the bed. The water tasted 
so good. Would she ever get 
enough? She fell back and again 
turned her face to the wall. 
Weariness, physical and emotion- 
al, overcame her and she drifted 
gently away. 

A hand on her shoulder, a 
gentle kiss on her cheek, pulled 
her out of the dark comfortable 
nothing. She came reluctantly. 
Looking up into her husband's 
brown eyes searchingly, she knew 
immediately that they hadn't 
told him. 

"Another girl, huh?" Hal 
grinned. "When are you going to 
add a little variety to this family 
of ours?" She tried to smile but 
her face crumpled as she began 
to weep. Her arms reaching des- 
perately pulled him close. She 
couldn't bear to have even him 
see the hurt in her face. He drew 
back in alarm. 

"Hey, honey, what's the mat- 
ter?" He slipped an arm under 


APRIL 1964 

her shoulders and pulled her 

"There's something wrong with 
our baby," Clara sobbed broken- 
ly, then quickly closed her eyes 
to shut out the sight of his face 
gone suddenly white; the sick 
look of fear that tightened the 
corners of his mouth. He held 
her close, wordlessly, for a mo- 

"Well, honey," Hal pushed the 
damp curls back from her face 
with gentle fingers, "we wondered 
if sooner or later something 
would be wrong with one of them, 
didn't we?" 

She nodded jerkily, swallowing 
hard. They had discussed it. 

"But not this one," she pleaded 
desperately, "please, not this 
one." They clung together silent- 
ly until the misery that had 
filled the room gently subsided. 

"Have you seen the pedia- 
trician yet?" 


"Let's wait and see what he 
says." He bent to kiss her cheek. 
"Now, don't feel so badly . . . it's 
nothing we could have helped." 
He answered her unspoken ques- 
tion. "Things will work out, 
you'll see." He laid her against 
the pillows and straightened up, 
holding her hand so tightly the 
wide gold wedding band cut into 
her fingers. "I'll be right back. 
I'm going down to see her." He 
was back in five minutes. 

She's cute, isn't she?" Clara 
smiled through her tears. At 
least some things weren't so dif- 
ferent. "She'll be all right," Hal 
predicted and she tried to absorb 
some of his confidence. "She's 
big and strong, and even if it 

means an operation she'll be able 
to stand it." She cringed, miser- 
able at the thought of an oper- 
ation on such a small body. After 
a prolonged silence her husband 
began to speak hesitantly. Strug- 
gling to eradicate the thought of 
an operation, she followed his 
words carefully, praying for dis- 

"I met Grant Fuller down the 
hall," he spoke slowly, thought- 
fully. "Irene's here. They had 
their baby today, too." He hesi- 
tated, undecided, then continued, 
"It died a half hour ago." 

She lay there stunned. Becom- 
ing aware that her teeth were so 
tightly clenched they ached, she 
relaxed with effort. 

"She was born under the cove- 
nant, so they, at least, know 
they'll have her in the hereafter," 
he concluded. 

Suddenly her arms felt so 
empty they ached. The here- 
after's too far away, she thought 
in a panic. My baby's just down 
the hall and I want her now. 
But how long would she be there? 
At least Grant and Irene knew. 
Ahead of her was what? A crip- 
pled child? Would she require so 
much attention that the rest of 
the family would suffer neglect? 
She suddenly realized what a 
pathetically weak person she 
was. What was ahead for them? 
She couldn't face any of it. 

"At least we can hope," Hal 
answered her unspoken question. 
But what was hope? It could be 
a deceiving liar, luring her to- 
ward happiness, then abruptly 
plunge her to the very depths of 
despair. She shook her head in 
silent rebellion. NO! ! She'd not 
be lured into that trap. "You 
know these things happen to 



teach us something," he insisted, 
watching her face intently. 

"Yes," she agreed, "I know 
that," her forehead wrinkled, 
"but what? What?" 

He shrugged, absently rubbing 
the back of her hand with his 

Hal looked at the telephone be- 
side her bed. "You should call 
your mother." 

"I know I should," she replied 
wearily, "but she'll ask 'Is every- 
thing all right?' and then what 
do I say? We don't even know if 
the baby will live or not. Besides 
mother has enough to worry 
about with Janet." He nodded 

Janet, her little niece, was suf- 
fering from an incurable disease. 
The little girl's grandmother, 
with gentle hands, performed for 
Janet many tasks and helped 
Janet's mother so the little girl 
had not gone into a hospital. 

Clara, on the other hand, had 
always regarded Janet as some- 
one who deserved to be loved but 
harbored a deep feeling of guilt 
because in spite of this convic- 
tion, the wandering, innocent, 
baby eyes, aimlessly seeking 
hands, and the unintelligible ut- 
terings of a child of ten years 
had frightened her. She had been 
relieved to move to another city. 

Now what? Would her baby 
be another Janet to the family? 
More of the same arguments . . . 
the whole confusing conflict all 
over again? 

"No," Clara said decisively, 
"I can't call her yet . . . maybe 
tomorrow," she half promised be- 
fore he left. 

That night, the pediatrician, 
whom she had known for twelve 

years, was a stranger at the foot 
of her bed. The concern in his 
face told her before he did the 
results of his examination in the 

Clara again felt guilty that she 
had brought a less than perfect 
babe into the world and was 
causing still another person such 
obvious concern. She smiled en- 

"I've seen the baby," his eyes 
were steady. She waited. "The 
big question is whether her body 
is capable of functioning and 
only time will answer that." The 
smile left her face. She had 
counted on him to reassure her. 
"Are you going to nurse her?" 
His question plopped in the awk- 
ward silence. She avoided his 

"I don't know," she murmured 
miserably. "Why don't I know?" 
she asked herself desperately. 
She had nursed the others. There 
had been no question then. "But 
this one is different," she excused 
herself. "If I nurse her and she 
dies, then what?" The physical 
pain would be just another re- 
minder of her loss. I couldn't 
stand it, she thought wildly. 
What if they decided the baby 
could not leave the hospital when 
she did, then what? So many 
problems, was there no end? She 
pressed her hands to her throb- 
bing temples. Was there no way 
out of this trap? "I don't know!" 
she repeated defiantly into the 
strained silence. 

"You have plenty of time 
to decide," the pediatrician as- 
sured her mildly. 

"I've arranged with the nurs- 
ery to show you your baby when- 


APRIL 1964 

ever you want to see her," he 
said kindly. 

She nodded and murmured a 
thank you, but she knew in her 
heart that she wouldn't go. Per- 
haps, given time, she would be 
able to forget what she looked 
like. No . . . she would not go 
see her. The less she had to do 
with the baby the better for her. 
She wouldn't get attached to her. 

Night passed in drugged, fitful 
slumber, awakening to awareness 
and willing herself back into ob- 
livion . . . blessed oblivion . . . 
peaceful . . . unthinking . . . un- 
complicated oblivion. But with 
the coming of day her period of 
respite ended. 

"Do you want the news of 
your baby's birth published in 
the newspapers?" an impersonal 
nurse inquired, her pencil poised. 

Clara looked up in surprise. 
They had never asked her that 
before. Were they so sure it 
wouldn't live? What would she 
tell the children? . . . They had 
waited so long with the little bed 
so carefully made up. How did 
you tell them there was no baby 
to put in it ... ? 

"You don't have to if you don't 
want to," the nurse avoided her 
eyes as she prodded her toward 
a decision. 

She thinks I'm ashamed of my 
baby, the mother suddenly re- 
alized with a deep sense of shame. 
But was being a coward a better 
virtue? How selfish she had been. 
She should have been thinking 
of her husband and children and 
trying to make the situation 
more bearable for them, but she 
had made herself the biggest 

o . . . Her first concern should 
have been for the tiny baby down 
in the nursery whom she had 
been so deliberately ignoring. She 
felt a sudden sense of release. It 
had never occurred to her not to 
acknowledge the birth of the 

"Of course I want it pub- 
lished," she replied firmly, and 
the poised pencil made its mark 
and left. She thought of the tiny 
girl down the hall. If she, her 
own mother, wouldn't claim and 
love her, who would? She had 
the right, perfect or not, to be 
loved and cared for by her 
mother whether she lived one 
day, one week, or whatever time 
she had. 

Clara looked up as the doctor 
entered the room followed by a 
nurse carrying her baby. She 
had seen the baby only the once 
since it was born and now, as she 
looked into her small face and 
laid a gentle finger against the 
softest cheek she had ever 
touched, her heart ached with 
love and compassion. 

"May I hold her?" 

The nurse, after a nod from 
the doctor, handed her the baby. 
Her cheeks flushed with shame 
as she realized that they, too, 
had misunderstood her coward- 
ice. She looked into the small 
closed-up face, and wondered 
how long . . . today . . . tomorrow 
. . . one week ... it didn't matter 
. . .this was her baby. If she just 
lives two weeks, then I'll be sure, 
she made herself the vain prom- 

"She seems to be in good order 
internally," the doctor volun- 
teered encouragingly. 



The mother's eyes left the 
baby face and looked up into his 
searchingly. Here was more than 
she had dared hope for. She 
clutched the pink bundle against 
her, pressing her cheek to the 
face of the sleeping infant. Tears 
slid down her cheeks, and in 
spite of herself, she sobbed. She 
felt the baby taken from her and 
firm hands put her to bed. A 
capsule was pressed into her 
hand. She cried steadily until 
the drugged pillow that softens 
all emotions put her to sleep. 

That evening Clara looked 
down at the dark head pillowed 
on her arm. The satin cheeks 
were dimpling rhythmically as 
the baby nursed. Her small fin- 
gers closed around Clara's thumb. 
With a gentle hand she stirred 
the tight, dark curls. Placing her 
daughter against her shoulder, 
she patted the tiny back. 
Through the blanket she could 
feel the row of safety pins hold- 
ing a binder securely around the 
small body. She smiled as she 
felt the soft brush of warm 
breath . . . that precious breath 

of life . . . and her heart filled 
with gratitude for having her to 
hold one more day. 

Suddenly she saw beyond the 
physical imperfection of her baby 
and knew what it was that must 
be learned. She held the baby 
from her and looked at her in- 

Her thoughts turned to her 
other children. She didn't love 
any one of them, more or less, 
according to his physical con- 
dition. The spirit within shaped 
them and made them who and 
what they were. 

How could she have been so 
blind? First about little Janet 
and then her own baby. Now she 
could understand her mother's 
stubborn devotion to Janet's 
care. She, with greater wisdom, 
had seen beyond that tortured 
little body and loved the pre- 
cious, innocent soul that was held 
captive within. 

Gathering her daughter into 
her arms, carefully so as not to 
awaken her, Clara held her close 
to her heart and reached for the 

Desert in Springtime 

Ethel Jacobson 

Here are dusty creek beds, 

Stones, and burning sand, 
But spring comes tripping bravely 

To this forbidding land. 
Seeds lie quiet, waiting 

The fleeting kiss of rain, 
Then magically blossom 

To carpet dune and plain. 
Poppy, mariposa. 

Verbena, lupine, broom — 
No one knows spring truly 
Till he sees the desert bloom! 



Viola Ashton Candland 

. . . and when they were come to the place, which 
is called Calvary, there they crucified him . . . (Luke 23:33). 

How callously they nailed him to the cross. 

Quite unaware this dreadful, dreadful deed 

Was prophecy fulfilled, believing loss 

Of life would mean the end of him. No seed 

Of blame could root in Christ, where true love grew 

To bear Its fruits upon the cross and plead, 

"Forgive them for they know not what they do," 

And stand as an example and a creed. 

The nails — the cross — the thorny crown — the scorn 
Intended in the sign for all to read — 
Unto this very hour he was born. 
Redeemer of the world, a King indeed; 

And agony and blood could not erase 
The mark of godhood printed on his face. 

A callous world still nails him to the cross 
With spikes of unbelief and hate and greed; 
And frivolous, indifferent hands still toss 
Away his gift of love as if the need 
For it did not exist. The precious words 
That tell how Jesus came to earth to bleed 
And die that man might live, are wasted chords 
In cynics' ears and hearts that will not heed. 

Ah, world, which largely, yet, profanes his name, 
How long before repentant hearts will plead 
For that same love which once was put to shame, 
And pray that he, again, will intercede. 

And know that he looks down at us today 
In that same sorrowing, forgiving way? 


Be Yourself 

Betty G. Spencer 

There," sighed Laura with re- 
lief, as she deftly polished the 
last bit of nickel on the big 
"Home Comfort" range. Her 
stepmother's kitchen was well 
kept and tidy. Aunt Em took 
pride in a neat house, and she 
and Laura had taken particular 
pains to see that everything was 
just right today. 

Reluctant to finish the task, 
Laura brushed the cloth across 
the warming oven until she could 
see her face in the polished metal. 
Plain, she thought, just plain. 
Her thin face looked a bit pale 
below the heavy coronet formed 
by her light brown braids. "If 
time would just stand still for 
a few hours," she said to herself. 
But she knew it wouldn't. She 
would have to face it, there was 
just no other way. 

This was the morning Brother 
William Barker was coming to 
watch her set a batch of bread. 
She had heard of young women 
having to do strange things to 
get a husband, but Brother 
William's request did beat all. 

Papa had scolded her before 
he left for the fields this morning. 

"Brother William has my per- 
mission to call," Papa reminded 
her, "and besides, Laura," he had 
chided, "it's about time you be- 
gan thinking of marrying. You'll 
never find a better catch, and 
Brother William is a fine, up- 
standing young man." 

That settled things as far as 
Papa was concerned, and Laura 
didn't know but what he was 

The Thomas clock chimed the 
half-hour. Aunt Em looked up 
anxiously from the worktable as 
she placed prints of newly 
churned butter in an earthen 

"Laura, dear," she urged, 
"you'd best hurry." 

Nervously, Laura put away her 
cleaning cloth as the rusty hinge 


APRIL 1964 

on the front gate squeaked its 

"Aunt Em," she said in a small 
tight voice, "he's here!" 

"Now, Laura," Aunt Em 
soothed, placing her hand on 
Laura's arm, "just do your best 
and everything will go fine. Just 
be yourself, child." 

"I'll try. Aunt Em, I'll try," 
Laura replied. "I'll take the crock 
to the spring house and be right 

She could hear Aunt Em greet 
their guest as she closed the 
kitchen door softly and hurried 
down the path. She pulled the 
wooden peg and swung the heavy 
door wide, letting the bright 
morning sun make checkered pat- 
terns on the hard-packed dirt 
floor. Quickly she placed the 
butter crock in the screened food 
safe, and took one last admiring 
look at the cut glass plate on 
the top shelf. 

Neat rows of daintily deco- 
rated cup cakes were ready to be 
served at refreshment time. 

Aunt Em had discouraged Laura 
about making the fancy pastries, 
but Laura insisted she wanted to 
go to the trouble, and had been 
finishing the last of the decorat- 
ing when Aunt Em arose this 

"I'll show William that I can 
serve the fanciest cakes in Spring 
City," she reassured herself. "I'll 
bet they are as delicate and tasty 
as any he ever had back in St. 
Louis, too." 

There was time for only a 
quick pat at the wisps of hair 
that escaped the bone hairpins, 
as she tidied herself at the marble 
washstand. Secretly, Laura had 
been longing to cut her hair, just 

a bit, and use rag curlers to do 
her hair in the fashionable ring- 
let style, but Papa would never 
permit it. 

Laura doffed the wrinkled 
coverall and tied her best em- 
broidered half apron about her 
slender waist. She had best not 
dawdle. She could hear Aunt Em 
and William talking in the sitting 

Laura entered the room quiet- 
ly. Brother Barker crossed the 
sitting room in four long strides 
and clasped her hand in a crush- 
ing handshake. 

"Brother Barker," she smiled, 
"how nice to see you." 

"Good morning. Sister Laura," 
he replied, his blue eyes spar- 
kling merrily. "I've just been 
telling Sister Grant how grateful 
I am that you would let me come 
this morning." 

This morning, Laura thought, 
this very morning, and all the 
witty, clever sentences she had 
practiced last night, left her 

The force of Brother Barker's 
greeting brought fresh doubt 
about the next few hours. It was 
hard, knowing that William had 
been courting several other young 
ladies. Now it was Laura's turn, 
and it wouldn't have been so 
bad, except that she was in love 
with William. From the first time 
she had noticed him sitting so 
attentively at sacrament meeting 
that Thursday evening, six 
months ago, she had hoped that 
he would find it possible to re- 
turn the affection she felt for 

William had been walking 
Laura home from church for 
several months, now, but he 
occasionally walked other young 



ladies home, too, and Laura could 
never tell how William really 
felt about her. 

Yesterday, however, he had 
asked Papa for permission to 
visit today, and to take Laura to 
the harvest ball, which was to be 
held tonight in the new social 

Everyone knew that William 
was looking for a wife to share 
the new frame home which had 
just been built near his small 
mercantile store. William's only 
mention of marriage, though, had 
been to tell Laura that his moth- 
er, back in St. Louis, had written 
to tell him the qualities he should 
seek when choosing his com- 

Aunt Em chatted easily about 
the weather, and William was 
soon telling them about his latest 
letter from his mother. 

"A very unusual woman, my 
mother," William declared. 

Aunt Em turned the conversa- 
tion to the coming Sunday School 
picnic, as Laura brought her sup- 
plies from the small, dark pantry. 
Laura felt more at ease in the 
kitchen, and set to work grate- 

Flour, sugar, salt, lard, and the 
precious bottle of potato "start" 
soon filled the checkered oil cloth 
on the round table. 

Last evening. Sister Barratt 
had put a generous amount in 
the small bucket Laura carried 
so she had far more "start" than 
she usually received in trade for 
her two cups of flour. 

The "start" was foamy and 
light as she poured it into the 
center of the flour, which had 
been sifted in the large, tin dish- 
pan, bright with lead patches 

that bore silent testimony of its 
constant use. Almost automat- 
ically, Laura added the other in- 
gredients and began to knead 
the dough. 

Kneading was a pleasant task 
which Laura enjoyed. There were 
times when she had kneaded with 
vigor, when thinking out a prob- 
lem. She realized with a start 
that she was kneading extra 
vigorously now, but wondering 
just why William had wanted to 
see her set the bread was most 

Laura loved to cook, and it 
must be that William loved to 
eat, going out of his way, as he 
was doing, to see what kind of 
bread she made. 

But there must be more to 
it than that. He could have 
just asked to taste a slice or 
two, goodness knows she made 
enough, keeping the big family 

Aunt Em and Brother William 
sat in rockers by the window, but 
Laura felt that they were both 
right at her elbow. William 
watched carefully, and the polite 
conversation came to an un- 
comfortable standstill as Laura 

The silence in the kitchen was 
broken as the front gate swung 
violently. The rusty hinge 
squeaked briskly in the quiet 
room, as the gate was shut with 
a snap. 

"Now who could that be, of a 
weekday morning?" mused Aunt 

Almost before they could won- 
der, they were greeted by the 
scent of rose sachet. Only one 
girl in the village of Spring City 
had gathered enough rose petals 


APRIL 1964 

to use the sachet so lavishly. It 
couldn't be, but it was. 

"Why, Cousin Julie, what a 
surprise,'' said Aunt Em, as Julie 
swept into the room. "I didn't 
know you had returned from Salt 
Lake City." 

"Just last night," Julie replied 
as she turned to Laura, who 
smiled a greeting. "I had so much 
to tell Laura about the city, that 
I thought I'd run over and spend 
the morning." 

She glanced at Brother Barker, 
who had stood to greet her, and 
then at Laura, "I hope I haven't 
come at an inconvenient time." 

"Of course not, Julie, we're al- 
ways glad to have you," said 

Julie was soon seated in Broth- 
er William's rocker, as he pulled 
a straight-back chair from the 
table for himself. 

Laura's slender fingers trem- 
bled as she went on with her 
work. The elation of the task 
was gone. 

Julie talked animatedly about 
her trip to the city, with Aunt 
Em and William captivated by 
her lively chatter. Her starched 
petticoats rustled softly as she 
bent to take baby Katie from 
Aunt Em. 

Katie's fat little fingers mussed 
the elaborate switch Julie had 
carefully pinned across her 
smooth crown, releasing an au- 
burn cascade of ringlets. Laura 
knew it had taken at least an 
hour to curl the ringlets around 
some patient sister's finger. 

Laura could contribute little 
to the conversation, as William 
and Julie compared travel ex- 
periences and acquaintances in 
Salt Lake City and in St. Louis, 

where Julie had visited last sum- 

At last, the bread was kneaded 
down for the last time, and Laura 
placed the large black pans side 
by side on the table and molded 
the loaves expertly. Soon eight 
loaves were rising under clean 
dish towels, and Aunt Em nodded 
that Laura should begin serving 
refreshments, while she seated 
the guests on the shady side 

Laura hurried down the spring- 
house steps, glad to get out of 
the kitchen. The rose sachet was 
almost overpowering; Julie, her- 
self, was almost overpK)wering. 
Julie, she thought, so elegant and 
lovely. How could any man resist 

Laura felt dowdy in compari- 
son. Her checked gingham was 
starched and clean, and had been 
carefully fitted by the local 
seamstress, Mrs. Clark, but it 
looked shabby next to Julie's 
second-best merino. 

"Well, that's that," sighed 

Julie could charm the birds 
right out of the trees, and Laura 
was sure she had charmed 
William right out of any ideas 
he might have had about want- 
ing her as his wife. 

She would just serve the fresh 
buttermilk and the pastries, and 
William could get out of her life 
forever. She was glad the morn- 
ing was over. She felt such a 
failure. She bit her lip to keep 
back the impending tears, and 
tried to console herself with the 
thought that William wasn't the 
only man in Sanpete Countj^ 

Tabitha, Julie's big tortoise- 



colored cat, had followed her 
across the yard and leaped down 
the steps ahead of her. 

"Scat, Tabitha," Laura ex- 
claimed. But Tabitha was in the 
room as soon as the door was 
opened, staring at Laura from 
her perch atop the food safe. 

Just as Laura lifted the cut 
glass plate, Tabitha jumped 
down, bumping Laura's arm and 
sending pastries and plate to the 
hard-packed dirt floor. 

Laura's heart sank with the 

"Oh, Tabitha," she scolded, 
"what will I ever do now?" 

William and Julie and Aunt 
Em were waiting on the side 
porch, and she knew that the 
conversation had turned from the 
doings in Spring City, to the 
social season in Salt Lake City, 
where Julie was to spend the 
winter with her grandparents. 

She couldn't serve plain but- 
termilk, not with William and 
Julie used to such elegant re- 
freshments. Laura put her hand 
against the safe and pondered. 
Everything took so much time 
— all but one thing. There was 
nothing else to serve. 

Resolutely, Laura climbed the 
steps and crossed the dooryard. 
Entering the kitchen, she shook 
the grate briskly and put two 
pieces of wood in the big range. 
The fire blazed up quickly. 

She pushed the black skillet 
over the front lid and spooned 
lard into it swiftly. 

"Plain food," she muttered to 
herself. "Just Hke me. I'll be my- 
self," she cried, "plain and prac- 

Laura cut strips of dough from 
a loaf rising in one of the long 
pans, frying them quickly in the 

skillet. As she removed the 
scones from the skillet, she sprin- 
kled them with a bit of sugar, 
split them and spread them gen- 
erously with butter and currant 

The tears of frustration were 
gone, and resignation filled Lau- 
ra's heart as she placed the 
scones on a neat tray. Frosty 
glasses of buttermilk clinked 
sharply as she served her guests. 

"Scones, how delightful," 
chirped Julie. But it was plain 
that she had been expecting 
something fancier. 

William reached for a third 
scone before turning to Laura. 

"Delicious, Laura, simply de- 
licious," he complimented. "My 
mother makes excellent scones, 
but these are the best I have 
ever tasted." 

Laura smiled. Mrs. Barker's 
cooking ability was of little con- 
cern to her right at that moment, 
since this was the first time that 
William had called her anything 
except Sister Grant or Sister 

The Thomas clock struck 
eleven. William stood up rather 
awkwardly, saying, "I must get 
back to the store, Laura, but I've 
had a very enjoyable morning." 

He looked at Aunt Em, who 
looked at Katie, nodding in 
Julie's lap. 

"It's time for Katie's nap," 
said Aunt Em. "Come, Julie, you 
can help me get her down." 

Julie would have remained on 
the porch, but Aunt Em had her 
by the arm and into the house 
before she could protest. 

"Laura," said William softly, 
"I hope you understand that I 
was just following my mother's 
instruction, in asking to watch 


APRIL 1964 

you set a batch of bread. Before 
I left St. Louis, I promised 
Mother that I would follow her 
recommendations when it came 
time for me to choose a wife. 
You meet every qualification, 
Laura, and it would give me 
great pleasure if you would con- 
sent to be my wife." 

"But, Papa . . ." Laura began. 

"He gave me permission to 
speak to you about it last night," 
William replied, drawing a small 
box from his coat pocket. 

Before she knew quite what 
was happening, William had 
placed a ring on the appropriate 

"I hope it pleases you, Laura," 
he said. 

Laura looked at the lovely 
pearl, surrounded by small rubies. 

"Oh, WiUiam," cried Laura, "I 


* * * 

Laura and William were the 
center of attention at the Harvest 
Ball. Laura proudly allowed her 
friends to see her lovely ring, and 
William acknowledged the hearty 
congratulations with obvious 

As Laura prepared to enter the 
house later that evening, William 
gently lifted her chin to the pale 
light coming from the sitting 
room window and sealed the en- 
gagement with a tender kiss. 

In the circle of his arms, Laura 

asked rather hesitantly, "Wil- 
liam," she began, "you may think 
me rather bold, but could you 
tell me what qualities you found 
in me that your mother re- 

"Laura, Laura," he smiled, 
holding her hands in his. "Moth- 
er gave only two requirements, 
and you met them both. I was 
to watch you set a batch of 
bread, so that I could see if you 
would knead the flour around the 
pan into the dough. If a woman is 
thrifty in small things, she'll be 
thrifty in all things, according to 
my mother. I was to choose a girl 
who would be satisfied with plain 
food and plain living until I can 
earn a better income in my store. 
The second requirement was the 
easiest. I was to love the girl 
with all my heart." 

"Oh, William," Laura cried 
gaily, "I can hardly wait to meet 
your mother. She sounds like a 
wonderful person." 

"Most unusual," smiled Wil- 

"William," mused Laura, 
"there's one thing I must have 
when we begin housekeeping." 

"Just name it," said William, 
"and I'll do my best to get it for 

"I'd like a tortoise-shell cat," 
replied Laura. "It will help to re- 
mind me always to be myself!" 

Gift Apron 

Beuiah Huish Sadleir 

Spring is in the pocket, 
Summer in the thread, 
Blue — to catch the moonbeams. 
When all but love is dead. 



Louise Murray 

Three women once went shopping. Each one bought a well-equipped sewing basket. 
The first woman took hers home, and put it carefully away for future use, then pro- 
ceeded with her normal, daily tasks. She became so busy with the routine things of 
life, that after awhile she forgot about her purchase, and never did get it out and use it. 

The second woman brought her basket home, and sat down to admire it. She 
sat looking at the lovely colored threads, the bright needles, the pretty buttons, and 
the sharp scissors. She thought wistfully of all the beautiful things she would sew — 
fashionable dresses, embroidered linens, bazaar aprons, and so many more articles. But 
she daydreamed so long, that she never did have time to do the things she thought 
about before it was time to turn to other occupations. 

The third woman took her sewing basket home, and sat down to use it. Small 
toes were warm because of her fast flying darning needle. Her happy husband found 
his buttons sewed on and his shirt collars mended. Because of her industry, her home 
was lovely with drapes, linens, tea towels, and other products of her skill. The woman 
herself felt the thrill of accomplishment because she made use of the tools she had 

When you come to Relief Society and listen to the lesson, to which of these ladies 
can you be compared? Do you come, listen, and forget? Do you come, listen, and 
ponder? OR do you come, listen, and apply the gospel truths you hear to your life, 
brightening not only your life, but the lives of those around you? 

Tiie Heavens Proclaim 

Veda G. Linford 

Above my bed the pointed pines and firs, 
Shadowed against the slowly darkening sky, 
Stand guard. 

Venus, the early evening star 
Alone bids me goodnight. 
The murmuring stream enchants me and I sleep. 

The rustle of a deer feeding at night. 
The snapping of dry twigs arouses me, 
I wake to see God's glory in the sky. 
And earth, turning to meet tomorrow's sun, 
Seems to be hanging motionless in space. 

As heaven's pageant drifts toward the west 
The milky way draws filmy gossamer 
Across the sky. 

Now all the trees topping the rim of hills 
Are filled with twinkling stars. 

The crescent moon 
For a brief moment rests on the slender tip 
Of a tall fir. 

All this is mine because a moving deer — 

A crackling branch — awoke me in the night. 

Spring Fashion 

Vesta N. Fairbairn 

Brown hills 

Wear pale new grass 

Like oversklrts of tulle 

With scattered jewels of lupine, 



Eva Willes Wangsgaard 

The sun cut through the fog just now 

And glistened on the rime, 
Translating every lucent bough 

Beyond this place and time, 
A breath-arresting spectacle. 

Heart-lifting epilogue 
To a theme too gray. Now all is well. 

The sun cut through the fog. 


Part VI — Make the Most of Economical Cuts of Meat 

Sadie O. Morris 

Meat not only is one of the most 
universally liked foods, but is an 
excellent source of certain im- 
portant nutrients. It is valued 
for the good quality proteins, 
minerals, and water-soluble vita- 
mins it contributes to the diet. 
Taste appeal places meat high 
on the market list; generally it 
is the first item chosen when 
planning a menu. 

Meat is usually judged on the 
basis of tenderness, juiciness, 
and flavor. Tenderness is an im- 
portant factor contributing to the 
palatability of meat. Certain cuts 
of meat derived from any animal 
are relatively less tender than 
others. The most tender cuts al- 
ways lie along the backbone and 
ribs, the less tender parts com- 
ing, as a rule, from the shank, 
shoulder, neck, and under parts 
of the body. The less tender cuts 
of meat include sections of mus- 
cles that are exercised as the 
animal walks and grazes. These 
muscles contain a large propor- 
tion of well-developed connective 

tissue which, unless modified by 
cookery processes, contributes to 

The less tender cuts of meat 
require the use of moist heat. 
Moist heat softens the connective 
tissues making it more tender. 
These cuts of meat may also be 
made more tender by pounding, 
grinding, or cubing. Tenderness 
of meat is also affected by the 
temperature at which it is 
cooked, tenderness increasing 
with lower temperatures. The 
lower cooking temperatures re- 
tain the juice and flavor of meat 
and reduce shrinkage. 

Use of less tender cuts of meat 
lends interest to the meal be- 
cause of the great variety of ways 
these cuts may be prepared. 

Variety meats, which are the 
organs, such as liver and heart, 
are especially high in nutritive 
value. In addition, they are com- 
paratively low in cost, making 
them valuable additions to low- 
cost menus. 


APRIL 1964 


2 lbs. round or chuck steak, cut into 1-inch 

thick pieces 
Va c. sifted flour 
2 tsp. salt 
Vi tsp. pepper 
Va c. fat 

2 c. canned tomatoes 
Vi c. onion, chopped 
Va tsp. paprika 

Combine flour, salt, and pepper; pound into 
steak, using edge of knife. Slowly brown 
steak in hot fat in Dutch oven or deep skillet. 
Combine tomatoes, chopped onion, and pap- 
rika in a small boiler; heat to a boil; pour 
over steak. Cover. Simmer or cook in a 
moderate oven (350°) for IVi hours. 
Yield: 6-8 servings 


2y% lbs. short ribs 

Va c. flour 

Vi tsp. salt 

Va tsp. pepper 

2 tbsp, fat 

Va c. onions, minced 

1 bay leaf 
Va c. water 
^A c. milk 

Roll the short ribs in the flour, seasoned with 
the salt and pepper. Brown the short ribs 
and onions in the fat. Add the water and 
bay leaf and simmer slowly for 1 hour. Add 
the milk for gravy and simmer about 10 
minutes more. Season gravy to taste. 
Yield: 4 servings 


2Vi lbs. short ribs 

2 tbsp. cornstarch 

1 c. beef broth from a beef bouillon cube 
Vi c. cider vinegar 

Vi c. brown sugar 

2 tbsp. vegetable oil 

1 tbsp. ground ginger 
1 tsp. accent 
1 tbsp. soy sauce 
Vi tsp. salt 

Brown the short ribs in fat and arrange in a 
deep baking dish. Combine the remaining 
ingredients and pour over the short ribs. 
Bake in a moderately slow oven (350° F) until 
the meat is tender — about IVi hours. 
Yield: 4 servings 


1 lb. ground beef 

V2 c. rice, cooked for 5 minutes 

1 tbsp. minced onion 

1 tsp. salt 

1 can tomato soup 

1 c. water 

1 tbsp. Worcestershire sauce 

Combine meat, cooked rice, onion, and salt. 
Mix well and form into balls. Place in a deep 
baking dish. Combine tomato soup, water, 
and Worcestershire sauce. Pour over meat 
balls. Cover dish, bake at 350° F for \Vi hours. 
Serve hot and pour tomato sauce over the 
Yield: 5-6 servings 


V2 lb. hamburger 

1 c. shredded raw potatoes 

3 tbsp. finely chopped onion 

1 tsp. salt 

1 tbsp. fat 

Mix together the hamburger, potatoes, onion, 
and salt. Form into 4 patties. Pan-fry in hot 
fat about 10 minutes on each side. Serve hot. 
Yield: 4 patties 


1 lb. hamburger 

Vz lb. (2 cups) dried lima beans 
Va tsp. salt 
3 tbsp. fat 

Barbecue Sauce: 
Va c. onion, sliced 

2 tbsp. sugar 

2 tbsp. Worcestershire sauce 

2 tsp. salt 

V2 tsp. chili powder 

Va c. catsup 

% c. water 

Soak lima beans by boiling for 2 minutes, 
removing from the heat, and soaking for 1 
hour (or soak the beans overnight). Cook 
the beans in boiling salted (% tsp.) water 
until tender, about 2 hours. 
Combine barbecue sauce ingredients and sim- 
mer 15 minutes. Brown the hamburger in the 
hot fat. Place cooked lima beans, hamburger, 
and sauce in alternate layers in a 2-quart 
casserole. Bake in moderate oven (350°) 45 
Yield: 6-8 servings 




1 lb. liver 

% c. chopped onion 

2 tbsp. fat 

Va tsp. pepper 

V^ tsp. salt 

1 c. tomato juice 

3 tbsp. flour 

Brown liver and onions in the fat. Add the 
seasonings and flour to the tomato juice, and 
stir. Pour over the liver and onions. Simmer 
30 to 40 minutes. 
Yield: 4-5 servings 


1 lb. beef liver 

14 lb. bacon (optional) 

V'i c. vinegar 

% c. salad oil 

11/2 tsp. salt 

1 tsp. pepper 

Slice liver into Vi inch slices. Cut into 1-inch 
strips. Mix vinegar, oil, salt, and pepper 
together. Marinate the liver strips in the 
French dressing mixture for one hour. Wrap 
each strip in bacon secured at ends with 
toothpicks. Broil 10 minutes. 
Yield: 4 servings 

Note: Liver may be broiled without the bacon 
by rubbing fat on the surface before broiling. 


Vh lbs. sliced liver 

2 tbsp. fat 

3 c. carrots 
3 c. celery 
% c. onion 
1 tsp. salt 

1/2 tsp. pepper 
1 c. water 

Dredge liver well with flour. Brown in hot 
fat. Clean and dice vegetables. Arrange in 
layers over the slices of liver. Season and 
add water. Cover and simmer slowly until 
both the vegetables and the liver are done. 
Beef liver will take about 45 minutes; pork, 
lamb, or veal liver about 30 minutes. 
Yield: 8 servings 

(two variations) 

To cook tongue: 
1 tongue 


1 large onion 

1 tbsp. whole cloves, sliced 

2 bay leaves 

Wash tongue and cover with water. If it is 
a fresh tongue add 2 tsp. salt. Add onion, 
cloves, and bay leaves. Cover and simmer 
until tender, allowing 1 hour to the pound. 
Remove skin and trim. 


Recipe No. 1 

1 tongue, cooked, skinned, and trimmed 

1/2 c. diced onions 

1 c. diced carrots 

Vi, c. diced celery 

3 tbsp. flour 

small amount of water 

IVa c. liquid in which the tongue was cooked 

1 tsp. salt 

Va tsp. pepper 

Cut the cooked, skinned, and trimmed tongue 
into cubes and place in pan with diced 
onions, carrots, and celery. Make a smooth 
paste of flour and small amount of water. 
Gradually add liquid and seasonings to the 
paste. Pour over tongue and vegetables. 
Simmer for 1 hour. 
Yield: four lbs. of tongue will serve 12. 


Recipe No. 2 

1 tongue, cooked, skinned, and trimmed 

Va c. fat 

Vi tsp. salt 

1 bay leaf 

Va c. brown sugar 

11/2 c. cherries, canned or cooked 

1 c. liquid in which the tongue was cooked 

1/2 sliced lemon 

Slice the tongue and place in a pan with 

the remaining ingredients. Simmer for 20 


Yield: a four-pound tongue serves 12. 


1 beef heart 

1 8-ounce package noodles 
1/2 c. fat 

2 c. water 
2 tsp. salt 

1/2 tsp. pepper 

Sweet-Sour Sauce: 
2 tbsp. fat 


APRIL 1964 

2 tbsp. flour 

2 c. liquid in which heart was cooked 

4 tbsp. vinegar 

2 tbsp. brown sugar 

1 bay leaf 

Va tsp. thyme 

2 whole cloves 
V2 tsp. salt 

Va tsp. pepper 

Wash and trim the heart. If it has been cut, 
sew into original shape. Cook the noodles 
in boiling salted water. Drain and combine 
with one-half of the fat. Fill heart with 
cooked noodles and save the rest to be 
heated and served with the heart. Brown the 
heart on all sides in the remaining fat. Add 

the water and season with salt and pepper. 
Add more water during cooking, if necessary. 
Cover tightly and cook until tender. The 
average heart (3% lbs.) will require about 
four hours for cooking. Remove the heart 
from the liquid and make the Sweet-Sour 

Melt the fat, add flour, and stir until smooth. 
Gradually add the liquid, stirring constantly. 
Cook until thick. Add the vinegar, sugar, and 
seasonings. Return the stuffed heart to the 
sauce and simmer for 15 minutes. Serve the 
heart on a platter with remaining noodles. 
Remove the bay leaf and cloves from the 
sauce and serve in a gravy boat. 
Yield: a 3V^ lb. heart serves 12. 

Empty Nest 

Ida Elaine James 

All of you now are gone, and I 
Wake each day with a lonely cry: 
"Good morning, dears! I am loving you," 
My heart calls out the long day through. 

I ask: "How did you spend your day?" 
Each evening, and at dusk, I say: 
"What are you doing now?" I see 
You smiling over the miles to me. 

The whole day through I cry aloud: 
"How strong I am! How brave! How proud!" 
But when night comes, the heart lies bare. 
Shivering in the lonely air. 

I can only draw around my breast 
The cloak of memories, dear and blest; 
"Guard them. Lord!" I pray . . . "I'm glad 
For all the beautiful years we had." 


The Other Day 

Chiistie Lund Coles 

The other day I went to the seemingly humble home of a widow I 
had known only casually for a short time. We visited for a little while 
in the living room and kitchen, where homemade bread was baking 
in the old-fashioned coal range. Later, we had the heel of a loaf, still 
warm, melting the butter to liquid gold, and honey, dripping amber 

Before I left, she took me into her bedroom which, she said, was 
her prize. And prize, indeed, it was. There in stately age and beauty 
stood a massive old, old walnut bed. She said it had been brought 
across the plains by her grandparents. It was as smooth as brown 
silk. On top of it was an unusual crazy quilt spread, and on top 
of that were two pillow covers, made of silk and embroidered with 
the names of the two who had long ago slept in the bed. 

Near the bed stood the matching washstand, complete with the 
white china washbowl and water pitcher. Across the room was the 
dresser with its marble top and oil lamps. On the wall hung a picture 
made from human hair, and on a small table near the original plat- 
form rocker was a bowl of rose leaves, preserved with salt, and still 
fragrant after nearly a hundred years. 

Something I had never seen before was a long-haired rug which 
lay beside the bed. It was white and silky. I asked about it, and she 
told me that was to warm the feet of the ''master of the house," 
when he stepped on the floor. It was made of goat's hair. 

The woman told me she had been offered good sums, by antique 
collectors, for everything in the room, but she had refused to sell. 
(Though, I am sure there had been many times when she had needed 
the money.) 

I left the home feeling that every home has its treasures, many 
of them, indeed, beyond price. 

An Evening Thought 

Catherine B. Bowles 

Lord, be kind and merciful to me 

That I may serve just thee. 

That every act and deed I do 

Will bring me nearer, Lord, to you. 

When darkness comes with setting sun 

And night is nigh and work is done. 

Let me feel that thou art near 

To bring me peace and soothe my fear. 





Vera Stockei 

Of course I try to plan my home- Likely I will have the oil can out. 
making tasks to accomplish them I have a habit of forgetting to oil 
with the greatest possible efficiency certain small appliances. The kitch- 
and dispatch. If I didn't, I would en screwdriver may be in use, too, 
be swamped by the countless de- and my spot cleaners for upholstery 
mands on the time and strength of and wallpaper. A pleasant breeze 
a ''do-it-yourself" homemaker and may invite me to air all our blank- 
mother of four school-age children, ets and pillows. It is a good time 
But even with a good workable to wipe off all the light globes in 
schedule, I have found that many the house — a job that should be 
small tasks that need to be done routine and isn't with me. I will 
and that I want to do, are put off, thin out our pile of magazines, tie- 
forgotten, or just plain neglected — ing up those back numbers, then 
things of seemingly little impor- box up some discarded clothing of 
tance, but still have their place in the children, arranging at once for 
a smooth-running household and a delivery of both to places where they 
well-ordered family life. That is will be welcomed, 
how Get It Done Day came to be I look at the bright new page on 
an institution in our home. the calendar, and note that it is time 

Yes, just that — a regular day for the check on Jamie's teeth, and 

set aside in which emphasis is put remind myself to remind my hus- 

on doing many small, odd jobs, band to make the appointment for 

those ''must-do-one-of-these-days" his annual physical examination, 

kind. Ours is the first weekday of Oh, yes, some birthdays are in the 

each month, or as soon after as may offing. I will make certain decis- 

be convenient. ions about these today instead of 

On that day I do the minimum of waiting until the eleventh hour, and 
regular housework, hurrying through I will take a look at my gift wrap- 
the breakfast dishes, beds, and dust- pings and greeting card supply. (A 
ing in double-quick time, and pre- pencil and pad are handy, of course.) 
paring easy-to-get meals. Then to I will have other reminders, too — 
the game, for I am not averse to a for instance, a check of the bath- 
little playful competition between room may show some nearly empty 
me and time. It adds interest to bottles and tubes, and other low 
see just how many needed tasks I supplies. If my household accounts 
can accomplish before the day is are not up-to-date, now is the time, 
done. There is a pleasant variety, and I will also sort and file properly 
too. This is the time for small the recipes I have clipped, 
jobs, but many — remember? I hate to darn socks, but with my 



feet on the hassock, music on the 
radio, and a cool lemonade beside 
me, I will get to the bottom of that 
basket in a short time. Or, pos- 
sibly, I will drop everything for an 
hour and make a call on that lonely, 
elderly woman down the street — 
something I have been meaning to 
do for a long time. 

With a little prodding, the chil- 
dren, after school, get into the get- 
it-done spirit. The boys agree to 
clean the dog house, and even give 
Rover a bath, and straighten things 
up in the garage. One boy will en- 
joy checking the car door in regard 
to the next oil change. Joey right- 
ly thinks it is a good time to re- 
mind me of the rip in his sleeping 
bag and an overnight Scout trip 
coming up. Sister may finally get 

her bureau drawers tidied, and with 
Scotch tape mend all the torn jack- 
ets on our books. Six-year-old Jan 
loves to paste all our loose trading 
stamps in the books so Mommie can 
get herself a present. 

Before bedtime I may have writ- 
ten that long-delayed answer to 
Great-Aunt Susan's last letter. And 
husband, dear old sport, not to be 
outdone, all by himself has noticed 
the drip of the kitchen faucet, and 
has made an iron-clad promise to 
fix it on Saturday. 

When I add my accomplishments 
to those of each member of the fam- 
ily, the total is often a pleasant sur- 
prise. No wonder our ten-year-old 
once said, ''Mother, instead of ''Get 
It Done Day," we ought to call it 
"Get Them Done Today." 




It Was Springtime 

Evelyn Fjeldsted 

'O C7 

One afternoon in the spring, I sat down and leaned my head against the 
trunk of an old apple tree. A foamy little irrigation stream was finding its 
way down the furrows and among the trees, making little dams of last year's 
leaves, each one finally breaking away and rushing downstream like a little 
floating island. 

A few furrows away a robin was walking step by step like a gentleman. 
He stopped suddenly and, with his head slightly on one side, peered closely 
at the ground. With a few sharp pecks a prize worm was his. 

A few ants were striving tirelessly to climb a damp furrow, only to fall 
back and be buried in the soil, while in the tangled roots a frog sounded his 
keynote at irregular intervals and met with no response. 

A little gray hawk aloft in the sky, tipped his wings and was gone. A 
hummingbird, like a bobbin with wings, wheeled over the tops of the trees. 
A small breeze whirled swiftly by, and apple blossom petals, like tiny pink 
saucers, floated on the water. This was all staged while a length of cloud 
material, like a soft warm blanket, was being unrolled overhead. 

I closed my eyes and fell asleep and was abruptly awakened by a splash 
of rain on my face. 



•^ ®>*SD"M^^ 


Violet Nimmo 

Last night after my small son had 
sat by the dining-room table coaxing 
me to play a word-game with him, 
I felt pangs of guilt because I had 
said, "I'm much too busy." 

While working at the task that 
kept me from my son, my thoughts 
wandered back to the times when 
I was a child and had played games 
with my Mother. I wondered how 
she had found the time to do so 
many things with us. 

I could see a happy family sitting 
around the table on a cold winter 
night. Two of us engaged in a game 
of ticktacktoe, someone reading a 
book or studying a lesson for school; 
the little ones coloring pictures, cut- 
ting paper dolls, or creating some 
piece of childish art from modeling 

Now I had a mental image of five 
exuberant children, glowing faces, 
folded hands, waiting patiently for 
a piece of candy that Mother was 
making from maple sugar and black 
walnuts. We had all participated 
in cracking and picking out the nut 
meats the preceding night. 

I thought of the times we sat 
around the table watching Mother 

cut out dresses for us, or helped us 
make doll clothes. 

Each of us took his or her place 
at the table when Mother read a 
recent letter from Aunt Suzy, or 
when we had a family discussion on 
finding the little culprit who had 
broken the hoe handle or, maybe, a 
blue willow cup. 

I visualized seven bowed heads 
around that old-fashioned round 
table, asking the Lord to bless the 
food of which we were about to 
partake. Perhaps the meal consisted 
of a pot of beans, corn bread, and 
a baked apple for dessert. 

The beans and corn had been 
harvested from our huge vegetable 
garden where we all shared many 
happy days of tilling and planting. 
Mother ground the corn in an old 
iron grinder. 

The apples came from our or- 
chard off trees which were pruned, 
grafted, and tenderly cared for by 
our Father. Some people referred 
to him as Mr. Green Thumb, be- 
cause he liked to make things grow. 

On special holidays, extra leaves 
were added to that old table. It 
wore the one and only snowy white 



linen tablecloth and was laid with 
our best china and the good silver. 
Table decorations were usually 
homemade nut cups, holding pop- 
corn glazed with maple sugar, toast- 
ed hickory nuts, and bits of candied 
orange peel. Sometimes we made 
funny little men from apples or 
from various vegetables, and placed 
them beside each plate. 

The table groaned with the bur- 
den of tasty casseroles, spicy dress- 
ings, fowl, salads, homemade pickles 
and jellies, freshly baked fruit pies, 
and sugar cookies that Mother let 
us decorate to our own fancy, always 
remembering to tell us how ex- 
quisite they were. 

Sometimes we sat around the 
table drinking mugs of hot eggnog 
and listened to stories told by 
Mother or Father, while the burn- 
ing wood crackled in the fireplace 
and bayberry leaves parched on the 
hearth. The mingling fragrance of 
nutmeg and bayberry mist was 
enough to create a festive mood. 
Occasionally, we gathered about the 

table for an hour or two of song 
and harmony. 

Coloring eggs for Easter, or mak- 
ing frilly May baskets for May Day 
have given me many pleasant 

Saturday mornings always found 
the old table loaded with large 
golden loaves of Mother's home- 
made bread and rolls. On Sunday 
it held our Sunday School and 
Church papers, and we all sat 
around while Father read from the 
old family Bible. 

Coming back to the present re- 
ality, I said to myself, this job can 
wait until tomorrow. 

"All right, son," I offered. "How 
about that game we were going to 
play? When we finish the game 
let's make some cookies and frost 
them with funny faces." 

I thought, perhaps tomorrow I 
will glaze some popcorn and candy 
some . . . Oh, dear! I do believe I 
have forgotten how to candy orange 


Zara Sabin 

I stand at the summit of Halfway Hill . . . 
The road has not seemed long. . . . 
With laughter and tears I have met the years 
Or danced to a care-free song. 

I pause to look back at the green-clad hill — 
Its sunshine and utter peace throw 
The brightness of hope on the upward slope 
Of the way that I still must go. 

Though rocks and thorns beset the path 
That I sometimes wearily trod 
They will be as a wraith while I walk by faith 
Sustained by my trust in God. 



for Older Tots 

Adelle Ashhy 

Sometimes middle-sized children 
need to wear some kind of a pro- 
tection over their clothes when 
eating, but would rebel at the 
suggestion of a bib. On a Sunday, 
for instance, when you want your 
children to stay fresh and clean 
between meetings, it is a great 
convenience to have some kind 
of an aid at mealtime. 

Here are three "cover-up" 
ideas that are so eye catching 
and different, that the roughest, 
biggest, little cowboy in your 
family will love to wear one. 



The first cover-up is for the 
child just above the tiny tot in 
age. It is a candy-cane bib. The 
best material for this bib is a 
heavy terry cloth. If you have 
a worn bath towel, there is likely 
to be enough good material left 
to make this bib. 

To cut the candy-cane bib, 
first cut a rectangle of about 
twelve inches by fourteen inches. 
These bibs should be quite large, 
so as to cover well. Now cut a 
neck curve in the center of one 
of the 12" edges. The curve 

should be about 4^/^ inches wide, 
and about 1 ^ inches deep at the 
lowest point. Bind the bib with 
bright red bias, leaving the neck 
curve. Now bind this curve with 
the same bias tape, leaving about 
ten inches on both ends for ties. 
To make the candy cane, take 
a ten-inch length of red rickrack 
and also a ten-inch length of 
white rickrack. Interlock the two 
colors so that they look braided. 
Make another smaller cane of 
seven-inch rickrack lengths. Now 
stitch them on the bib in a candy- 
cane shape, adding a bright red 
bow on each cane. Candy canes 


are popular with the children at 
all times of the year. 


If you make a cover-up for 
sister, she will love one that 
looks like a blouse. This bib 
could be made from an old white 
shirt, or from a white or light- 
colored discarded towel. Make it 
the same size as the first bib, or 
as long as her dress, for added 
protection. Cut the neck curve 
as before. This time, hem all 
around with a narrow hem. Now 
make a make-believe collar, 
pocket, and center strips, and 
also bind the neck with the new 
bright striped bias that is on the 
market, or use any you have on 
hand. If you add the realistic 
touch of four shirt buttons down 
the front, any little girl would 
be proud to wear it. 


This cover-up bib is for the 
young man of the house, who has 
trouble keeping his white shirt 
spotless for church going. Cut 
the bib as indicated in the dia- 
gram. If you will clip a little 14- 
inch mark into the upper and 
lower V, it will be easier to stitch 
on the bias tape. 

First, hem both long edges 
with a tiny hem. Now bind this 
bib also with a bright striped 
bias tape, and sew it on in this 
order: tie string and upper left 
V, then lower left V. In one 
operation, bind lower right, con- 
tinue with tape up front (folded) 
and bind upper right, leaving a 
tie. Add fake pockets and four 
shirt buttons. 


Sarah C. Bowles Makes Many Quilts and Quilted 


Sarah C. Bowles, Rigby, Idaho, finds much pleasure in making quilts and 
quilted bedspreads for gifts. The lovely contrasting colors used, the exquisite 
designs, and the fine, even stitching make her work outstanding and very 
beautiful. She has made a quilt for each of her eleven children, and many 
quilts for Relief Society, and for her wide circle of friends. She is now making 
quilts for her grandchildren, and this is a challenging project, for Mrs. Bowles 
has fifty-eight grandchildren. 

She also does fine crocheting and expert embroidery work. She has been 
ward Relief Society counselor and ward president. At present she is theology 
class leader. Mrs. Bowles keeps an attractive and well organized home and 
recently celebrated her fifty-first wedding anniversary. She is well loved in 
her home valley for her many works of charity and service. 


Hazel M. Thomson 



Chapter 3 

Synopsis: Selena and Belle Bald 
win, sisters, are traveling to the Valley 
of the Great Salt Lake in a wagon 
train commanded by Lon Holiday, 
captain of fifty, and Josiah Blodgett, 
captain of ten. Selena's fiance has 
died at Winter Quarters, and Selena, 
in bitterness and sorrow, cannot be 
comforted. Belle, a large, strong 
woman, trades for a pair of Indian 
moccasins, and finding them too small 
for her, she sends Selena to offer them 
to Josiah who has injured his foot. 
Josiah attaches marital significance 
to the gift of the moccasins, according 
to an Indian custom. 

Selena and Belle had just fin- 
ished putting their dishes away 
after the evening meal when Jo- 
siah arrived. His hair was parted 
in the middle and combed 
smoothly. He was wearing his 
Sunday clothes. With the moc- 
casins on his feet he walked with 
only a slight limp. 

Feeling that there was no need 
of beating around the bush, he 
came directly to the point. 

"I come courting," he said, 
looking straight at Belle. 

"Oh!" she said, picking up the 
last of the pans and heading to- 
ward the wagon. She had been 
through similar experiences be- 
fore and knew when it was her 
move. *'I have to put these away, 
Selena. I'll be in the wagon." 

Josiah stepped directly in her 

"It's you I'm courting," he 

Belle dropped the pans she 
was carrying. The iron kettle fell 
with a thud, barely missing Jo- 
siah's sore foot. But Josiah did 
not budge. 

"Me?" gasped Belle. 

"Yes, you. Is that so all-fired 


APRIL 1964 

strange? Meaning no offense to 
you, Ma'am," he said, nodding 
politely toward Selena, "but I've 
been thinking about your sister 
these past few days, wondering 
how I could get up the courage 
to speak to her." 

His eyes turned back to Belle, 
standing open-mouthed before 

"And now, tonight, she goes 
and gives me all the encourage- 
ment any man would need." 

Belle, completely at a loss as 
to what to do in the face of his 
open admiration of her, stared. 
That look in his eyes, she had 
seen it many times before in the 
eyes of Selena's suitors, but never 
until now directed toward her. 

"Encouragement? Tonight? 
Me?" Her words didn't seem co- 
herent. Neither did her whirling 

"I might have expected you 
to manage things right well, see- 
ing as how you always do, but I 
was more than a mite surprised 
when Selena brought the mocca- 
sins. Where you heard about that 
old Indian custom I don't know, 
but it makes no difference. I 
thought we might go for a walk 
together and be back in time to 
start the dancing. Even with this 
sore foot I'm going to dance to- 

"Indian custom? What . . .?" 

Selena took her dazed sister by 
the arm and led her toward the 

"This night air is a little cool. 
Belle had better get a shawl," 
she said. 

"I'll be waiting right here," said 
Josiah. "Don't be too long — 

Belle choked. 

"Selena!" she said. "What's 
come over him? What happened?" 

"I don't know," Selena whis- 
pered back, "but pull yourself 
together. I'll get you my best 
shawl. Here, take my cornstarch 
bag and wipe the shine off your 
face. It will be good for you to 
be dancing for once, the way you 
sit here every night and tap your 

Selena climbed back out of the 
wagon, draped the shawl around 
her sister's shoulders and 
smoothed Belle's hair. 

"There. You look lovely. Belle. 
Have a good time dancing." 

"Dancing! I think he wants 
to marry me!" 

Selena laughed gaily. For the 
first time in a long while she 
seemed more sure and more in 
control of the situation than 
Belle was. 

"Well, what would you think 
of that?" she asked. 

Belle actually trembled. "I 
think it would be wonderful," she 
said. "I had no idea Josiah could 
be so masterful." 

The rest of the trip into the 
Great Salt Lake Valley was one 
of complete happiness for Belle. 
Josiah came every morning to 
yoke up her oxen for her. The 
first three mornings he came only 
to find them all ready to go. 
Selena took a hand then, sug- 
gesting that since Josiah so ob- 
viously wanted to help, that she 
wait the next morning and give 
him opportunity to do so. The 
look of satisfaction and pride on 
his face more than repaid Belle 
for the inactivity of waiting. 

The bond of friendship and un- 
derstanding between Lon and 
Belle had deepened as he learned 



that Belle was to become the wife 
of his best friend as soon as they 
arrived in the Valley. 

''I knew you'd like Josiah, 
when you really came to know 
him," Lon said one afternoon as 
they followed the wagon road in 
the mountains, "everyone does. 
He's a fortunate man. Belle. I 
wish I were as lucky." 

"But you haven't said a word 
to Selena. How do you hope to 
learn how she feels if you never 
tell your own feelings, Lon?" 

"I know how she feels all 
right," said Lon, moving back by 
the wagon wheel and moving 
along beside it. "She leaves no 
doubt about that. I guess I could 
never measure up to him. He 
must have been pretty near per- 
fect. Belle, for Selena to have 
loved him so much." 

"That's just it, Lon. He wasn't. 
He came into Nauvoo as a mem- 
ber of a gang of counterfeiters. 
It was a pretty good place for 
that sort of thing for awhile. 
Everything that happened was 
blamed on the Mormons. But 
after the saints moved out he 
moved on to Winter Quarters. I 
don't know what his next plan 
was, but you can be sure that he 
had one." 

Lon stepped up on the wagon 
tongue and swung himself up be- 
side Belle. His voice was intense. 
"Belle! Are you sure of all this? 
How can Selena be so loyal to 
the memory of a man like that?" 

"It's simple. She doesn't know. 
I never found out about it until 
after his death, and then, quite 
by accident, I overheard some 
talk that wasn't meant for me." 

"But why didn't you tell her? 
Why let her go on tearing her 
heart out over a rascal?" 

"I had no proof. After I heard 
what I did, I inquired around a 
little. I was convinced that it 
was true but Selena would never 
believe me. Besides, she was so 
heartbroken, I had no wish to 
add to the sorrow she already 

For a time there was only the 
sound of the wagon wheels on 
the rocky creek bed where the 
road lay at this point. Then Lon 
said, "Nor shall I tell her. If I 
can't win her love without that, 
perhaps I don't deserve to have 

Not until the last night on the 
trail before entering the Valley 
did Lon say anything to Selena. 

She had left her own wagon 
where Josiah and Belle were dis- 
cussing their own future, in order 
to give them a measure of priva- 
cy, and Lon saw her walking 
alone past his own camp. 

"Selena!" he cried. 

"Oh! Hello, Lon," she an- 
swered and would have walked 
on, but he raised his hand for 
her to stop. 

"Is anything wrong?" he asked. 

"No. It's just that I'm always 
there, listening to whatever Belle 
and Josiah have to say to each 
other. I just felt they would wel- 
come being alone once in awhile." 

Lon looked down at her. Her 
face was the most beautiful face 
he had ever seen. His heart 

"Selena, we'll be coming into 
the Valley tomorrow." 


"I'm almost sorry the trip is 

He moved near and stood be- 
side her chair. She did not look 


APRIL 1964 

"I love you, Selena. When we 
reach the Valley I should like to 
have the privilege of calling." 

She did not answer and he 
waited, wondering if she had even 

"Selena?" he said softly. 

'*If you like," she said again, 
still not looking at him. 

A feeling of hopelessness swept 
over Lon. He had the impression 
that, had he even asked her to 
marry him, she would have said 
the same thing. 

He was to find himself con- 
fronted many times during that 
first winter in the Great Salt 
Lake City by her icy indifference. 
He continued to live in the wag- 
on, while Josiah and Belle, after 
their marriage, which took place 
almost immediately after their 
arrival, were successful in obtain- 
ing a two-room log cabin that had 
been vacated. 

''How did we happen to be so 
lucky?" Belle asked when Josiah 
told her about getting a cabin 
without having to build. 

"There are lots of cabins empty 
right now," Josiah answered. "A 
goodly number of the saints have 
been called to make settlements 
in other places. The newest one, 
I hear, is to be named Peteetneet. 
How would you like it if we hap- 
pened to be called?" 

The wagon trip west had been 
the happiest time of Belle's life. 
The thought of another one 
would be very agreeable to her. 

With the arrival of early spring 
Josiah and Belle became inter- 
ested in joining the groups who 
were going to California. 

"Looks like we'll be going on, 
Selena," said Josiah, when the 

decision had been made. "You 
will go with us?" 

Selena did not protest. If this 
was what Belle and Josiah 
wanted, it was not her place to 
interfere. Life held so little prom- 
ise to her. After all, what dif- 
ference would it make, here or 

"Where is the settlement to be 
made?" It was Belle, not Selena, 
who asked the question. 

"I don't exactly know," Josiah 
answered, "but Captain Jefferson 
Hunt and others who were in the 
Battalion have seen the land. 
They say it's the most beautiful 
place on earth. Belle! Sunshine 
and growing weather the whole 
year around. Why, we'll have a 
better farm than we could ever 
have, here in this desert." 

"But don't you even know the 
direction we will be traveling?" 
asked his wife. 

"Oh, I read the official bulletin 
from the First Presidency: 'A 
settlement is to be made at no 
great distance from San Diego, 
near Chino Rancho, close by the 
Cajon Pass.' That's the instruc- 
tions. It won't be west from here. 
We'll be taking a southern route. 
Those that have seen it love the 
country down there. Some of 
them seem to feel that President 
Young made a mistake in stop- 
ping here in this place." 

Josiah found Lon to be a bit 
skeptical on more than one point 
of argument. 

"This is the place," he said. 
"President Young said so him- 
self, and if this is where the Lord 
wants this people to be, then it 
seems to me that this is where 
we ought to stay. Besides, I've 
heard a little about that trail 



to California. The boys who were 
in the BattaHon say there are 
miles of desert. You'll find out, 
Josiah, it is no grassy plain you'll 
be crossing." 

"What of it?" asked Josiah, 
"we'll have guides who know the 
road. They know just where to 
stop so there will be watering 
places, and a time or two when 
we have to carry water. That's 

"No, it's not all," said Lon. 
"President Young refused in no 
uncertain words to follow Sam 
Brannan in his scheme to move 
the saints to the Gold Coast. 
Now, a few years later, here we 
are planning to go right along 

"But this is different, Lon. 
This whole undertaking has the 
approval of the Authorities. 
We're not heading for the gold 
fields, nor anywhere near Sutter's 
Fort, but to make a settlement 
near the sea coast, from which 
missionaries going to the Islands 
of the Sea can be helped on their 
way, and those who return to 
this country can be received. 
Why, Lon, there are two of the 
apostles who have been assigned 
to lead this company." 

Lon turned quickly and faced 
his friend. 

"Now, I didn't know that, 
Josiah. Since when? Who are 

"Since yesterday is all that I 
have known it, but both Brother 
Lyman and Brother Rich are 
going. Does that put a new light 
on things?" 

"It certainly does!" said Lon. 
"I hated to think of your going 
without me, but since it does not 
mean going against counsel, I'll 
be right along with you." 

During the remaining days of 
preparation Lon felt a great 
weight had lifted from him. The 
thoughts of Selena going on while 
he could not bring himself to join 
in the move had been depressing 
in the extreme. 

There were a few occasions, he 
felt, when he had seen a glimpse 
of the real Selena; once when 
their eyes first met, in the 
cemetery at Winter Quarters. 
Her grief had been new then, and 
her face not yet accustomed to 
the mask she now habitually 

Again, on the day that she had 
taken the moccasins to Josiah, 
Lon had felt something of the 
warmth and beauty deep inside 
the girl which matched the love- 
liness of her features. 

Whether he could ever arouse 
any response in Selena to his 
own great affection, he did not 
know, but at least he was going 
to have ample opportunity to try. 

At last the day came for de- 
parture and they drove their 
wagons south, down the street 
of the fast-growing, thriving city. 
Everyone they passed waved, 
wishing them God-speed and suc- 
cess in the new colony to be built. 

It was thrilling and exciting to 
Belle, and Selena seemed to re- 
spond in a measure to the feel- 
ings of the others. As they neared 
the southern end of the valley 
where the mountains came close 
together, separating the Valley 
of the Great Salt Lake from the 
Valley of the Utahs, Selena ac- 
cepted Lon's invitation to ride 
with him for a part of the after- 

High on the wagon seat, her 
dark hair framing her face under 
her sunbonnet, Lon thought he 


APRIL 1964 

had never seen anything so beau- 
tiful. At that moment he felt 
that if he should ask her to marry 
him, she would accept. 

Yet, this was not what he 
wanted. He wanted Selena for his 
wife, yes. But he wanted the 
laughter, the gaiety, stored up 
within her; and most of all he 
wanted her love. 

The organization of the wagon 
train was the same as that used 
in crossing the plains; that is, 
there were divisions of ten 
wagons, each with its command- 
er; divisions of fifty, having a 
commander, and Brother Rich 
and Brother Lyman acting as 
general overseers of the entire 
company of one hundred fifty 
wagons. There were 588 oxen, 
336 cows, 21 young stock, 107 
horses, 52 mules, and 437 men, 
women, and children. 

"We'll have our own city as 
soon as we arrive," said Belle, 
looking back along the line of 
wagons, stretching miles behind 

"They won't all be staying in 
California, you know," replied 
Josiah. "Brother Parley Pratt 
and his group of missionaries will 
want to be on their way to the 
ocean and on to the South Sea 
Islands as soon as possible." 

"Still, it won't be a lonesome 
kind of life, with so many of the 
saints there. At least it will not 
be so for us, Josiah. We'll have 
a good life together, but it's Se- 
lena that bothers me. She hasn't 
attempted to make one friend 
yet in the entire wagon train." 

Josiah looked at his wife out 
of the corner of his eye. He 
waited as the wagon rode over 

some rather large boulders before 
he spoke. 

"I've been meaning to tell you 
this, Belle," he said. "You know 
that young chap in the wagon 
just behind Lon's? Well, he has 
been mighty curious about Se- 
lena, almost from the first day 
out. Wanted to know whether she 
was married or promised or any- 

"So!" exclaimed Belle. "That's 
why he's been spending so much 
time around our camp these last 
few evenings! He has his eyes on 
Selena! I might have known! 
Seems like it's been so long since 
she took any interest in a young 
man that I've become accustomed 
to having things that way." 

Belle reached out a hand to 
the lines Josiah held and pulled 
the team to a halt. "I've decided 
that my sister is not going to 
marry a complete stranger!" 

"Marry him! For goodness 
sake. Belle. As yet she doesn't 
even know the young man." 

"That's what I said. A stranger. 
You know how she is, Josiah. 
She just doesn't care — not 
about anything these days. And 
if he proposed to her tomorrow, 
like as not she'd say yes. Well, 
I'm not taking the chance." 

Belle moved on to the wagon 
behind Josiah's. He spoke to his 
team and they moved forward. 
Belle's mind was made up. There 
was no need in saying more and 
perhaps down deep Josiah agreed 
with what his wife planned to do. 
He realized his protest had been 
somewhat feeble. 

"Lon," said Belle, as she took 
his hand and climbed from the 
wagon tongue to the front of the 
wagon and took her seat beside 



him. "Do you want to marry Se- 

Lon looked at her, startled. 

"Don't joke with me, Belle. 
Not about that." 

"I'm not joking, Lon. I'm ask- 
ing you, serious. Do you want 
to marry my sister?" 

"Belle!" For a moment there 
was hope and happiness in Lon's 
eyes. "She didn't. . . ." Then he 
stopped. The hope had faded. 
"No, of course, she didn't say 
anything. For a moment I. . . ." 
Lon stopped, embarrassed. 

"I know what you hoped. I have 
hoped so, too," said Belle, kindly. 
"But we've got to do something, 
Lon. There's a young man in 
camp who keeps asking Josiah 
all sorts of questions about her. 
He was at our campfire last night 
and the night before. He stayed 

for hours last night, claiming he 
had to dry out his boots. I didn't 
catch on then, not until Josiah 
told me what had been happening 
whenever the young man gets 
around him. It's always some- 
thing about Selena. She's so at 
loose ends, Lon. She isn't herself, 
and if he decided to ask her to 
marry him, I'm afraid she would 
do it. Why don't you ask her 
first, Lon?" 

"I want to. Belle. You know I 
do. I'd have asked her long be- 
fore this except for one little de- 
tail. Selena doesn't love me." 

Belle placed a hand on Lon's 
arm. She felt the muscles, hard 
and tight under her fingers. 

"She doesn't love him either, 
Lon. But when he asks her to 
marry him Selena will say yes." 
(To be continued) 

Deserted Farm House 

Annie Atkin Tanner 

Alone it stands beside the mauve and fluted 
Hot sun rays scorch Its aging roof 
And winter rains wash off the summer dust. 
A muted wind swings the loosened shutters 
And brushes on the darkened window-panes. 


Tall junipers shake their azure berries 

Like warning bells at night. 

Straight and strong as sentinels 

They guard the quiet rooms, 

Which once were filled with laughter. 

No more a yellow light shines on a winding path 

To guide a family home. 

No more a song is heard. 

All is loneliness 

Beside the mauve and fluted hills. 




General Secretary-Treasurer Hulda Parker 

New Orleans Stake (Louisiana) Relief Society Holds "Blast-Off" Social 

For Ward Leaders 

September 21, 1963 

Seated, center foreground: Beulah B. Larson, former president. New 
Orleans Stake Relief Society. 

Sister Larson reports: "The stake board held this social to establish close 
working relations between the stake and ward officers and class leaders, and 
to get our new Relief Society year off to a good start. A humorous play 
'Relief Society — Why?' was presented to encourage full participation in the 
Relief Society program. Other numbers on the program included a reading, 
special musical numbers, and a rendition by ward Singing Mothers group. 
Each stake officer and board member sat with and served lunch to her group 
of ward leaders. After lunch, we held our first leadership meeting of the new 
year. Another skit — 'The Good Ship Relief Society' — was used to introduce 
members of the stake board. After opening exercises, we conducted our usual 
departmental work, which brought to a close a very successful day in Relief 
Society. We feel that it laid the foundation for greater achievements in our 

Cleora K. Williams is the new president of New Orleans Stake Relief 

Ogden Stake (Utah) Singing Mothers Present Music for Many Occasions 

Front row, seated, left to right: Ruth G. Williams, Second Counselor; 
Pearl G. Williams, President; Marguerite R. Burton, First Counselor; Joyce 
Montgomery, assistant organist; Arvilla P. Arrowsmith, stake organist; Neva 
P. Simonsen, stake chorister; K. Gunn McKay, narrator of the presentation 
"God So Loved the World." Other participants: Patti Ann Jensen; Gayle 
Anderson; Marion Romander; Lucille Richardson; Afton P. McKell; Edith 
G. Briem. 

Sister Williams reports: "We are very proud of the accomplishments of 
our Singing Mothers this year. They have furnished the music for stake con- 
ference, together with Relief Society conference. Each month in our Relief 
Society leadership meeting a chorus from one of the wards has furnished 
special musical numbers. In April the Singing Mothers presented a beautifully 
arranged concert in the Ogden Tabernacle, before a large audience. We were 
very happy for the presence of Sister Florence J. Madsen of the General 
Board of Relief Society. At our annual spring party held in May for all the 
women in the stake, we presented 'God So Loved the World.' The Singing 
Mothers furnished the music for that beautiful presentation. It was so favor- 
ably received that seven of our bishops asked that the presentation be given 
in their sacrament meetings. Our stake presidency was host to all the stake 
presidencies in the Ogden region at a lovely banquet. For this occasion the 
Singing Mothers were asked to give the presentation of 'God So Loved the 
World.' It was beautifully rendered and very inspirational. Everyone enjoyed 
the evening and expressed a greater desire to keep the commandments of 
our Father in heaven more fully and to serve him better." 


All material submitted for 
publication in this department 
should be sent through stake 
and mission Relief Society pres- 
idents. See r^ulations govern- 
ing the submittal of material for 
"Notes From the Field" in the 
Magazine for January 1958, 
page 47, and in the Relief So- 
ciety Handbook of Instructions. 


APRIL 1964 

Washington Stake (Washington, D.C.) Chevy Chase Ward Bazaar 
November 8-9, 1963 

Virginia Cameron is seen admiring a hand-knit hat and sweater, made 
and modeled by Marjorie Van Camp (seated) ; Frances G. Bennett, second 
from the left, Elese B. Lundberg, and Mirandy Allison (right) are displaying 
some of the hundreds of handmade articles and objects of art displayed at 
the bazaar. 

Marcia C. Steele, President, Washington Stake Relief Society, reports 
the theme was international and the general public was invited. A special 
feature of the bazaar was the display of many of the paintings included in 
the Seventieth Annual Exhibition of the Society of Washington Artists, from 
the National Collection of Fine Arts, Smithsonian Institution. 

Original creative stitchery and crewel embroidered wall hangings, Swedish 
embroidered tote bags, Sauna shifts, floral boutique pieces, ceramic pins, 
papier mache figures, as well as hand-knit sweaters, hats, slippers, and baby 
things, in addition to candle and wreath arrangements, and a large assortment 
of Christmas gifts kept the sisters busy for months preparing for the bazaar. 

Alice Marriott's mustard pickles and jams were in great demand at the 
gourmet booths, which offered a wide variety of homemade foods. Breads of 
the world, cakes, penny candy, country sausage, ham sandwiches, and home- 
made root beer were among the fast selling foods which were beautifully dis- 

Monument Parl< West Stai^e (Salt Lake City, Utah) Holds "Fair Exchange" 

September 20, 1963 

Left to right: Wanda N. Ericson, Work Director Counselor; Marcella 
B. Bramwell, Secretary -Treasurer; Clarice Cooper, President; Ruth H. Willes, 
Education Counselor. 

Sister Cooper reports: "A very successful and beautiful 'Fair Exchange' 
was held September 20, 1963. It was extremely gratifying to have approxi- 
mately 500 people call during the hours from 10 A.M. until 12 noon. Each of 
the seven wards of the stake was responsible for one booth, and in addition 
brought three articles for the 'Bazaar Booth.' A number of other talented 
people were generous in demonstrating special skills. Sister Bramwell had 
prepared a very interesting and informative chart on attendance at the various 
meetings. Nyena S. Nelson, theology class leader, Fae S. Carlson, literature 
class leader, Ruby E. Henderson, social science class leader, and Pat S. Lowder, 
Magazine representative, had eye-catching booths demonstrating their work. 

"The hall was festive, decorated in rich fall colors. Streamers, fanning out 
from a balloon-decorated high point on the back wall, suggested a huge tent. 
The names of the booths were printed in black on green, scalloped, corrugated 
paper which extended from pole to pole so as to make a continuous border. 
Very interesting names were used, such as: Sweet Shoppe, Norwegian Pan- 
cakes, Bread Basket, Cookie Carousel, Closet Door, Feather Fantasy, Knitting 
Needle, Fall's Creations, Christmas Ideas, Bazaar Items, Glamor Cobbler, and 
Nature's Magic and Originals. Everything shown or demonstrated could be 
made by hand. Samples and recipes were given wherever food was demon- 

"The beautiful serving table featured a lovely centerpiece of ribbon chrys- 
anthemums made by Ruby Swallow. Punch and cookies made by the board 
members were served by Margaret J. Harmon, stake music director, and Golda 
T. Evans, visiting teacher message leader. Bernice P. Engeman, stake organist, 
played beautiful and appropriate music during the entire 'Fair Exchange.' 
Those attending 'signed in,' and the ward with the largest number received 
a prize. Those who came received some excellent ideas for bazaars and work 
meetings, along with a renewed desire to attend Relief Society and receive 
its many benefits." 



L W' 


Clmisl-ffKts id€€m 


'L I 


^ -« 

APRIL 1964 

West German Mission Relief Society Officers Display Baby Quilts Made to 
Introduce Quilting to German Sisters 

Left to right: Elfriede Ziihlsdorf, President, Frankfurt Branch Relief 
Society; Elisabeth Uhlig, Counselor, Frankfurt Branch Relief Society; Louise 
C. Heyman, district leader, Frankfurt District; Mella Uchtdorf, Secretary- 
Treasurer, Frankfurt Branch Relief Society. 

Sister Heyman reports: "Sister Mclntire, wife of President Wayne F. 
Mclntire of the West German Mission, for a long time has had the desire 
to introduce quilting to the German sisters. So, at our Mission Relief Society 
Conference in May 1963, she made her desire known. A baby quilt, made of 
different kinds of quilt blocks, was prepared, and instructions and measure- 
ments were given to the sisters. A talk on the history of quilting and what 
our pioneer women have done along that line, was presented, and the desire 
of the General Board of Relief Society to have this art preserved among the 
sisters was mentioned. It was also pointed out that much good has been 
accomplished by the distribution of quilts in times of need. 

"The idea was received very favorably by the sisters. The Frankfurt 
sisters began their quilt-making projects with great enthusiasm, and they have 
now finished their first baby quilt and have already started another one. 
The quilts are made from materials purchased locally, including the batting." 

Riverdale Stake (Utah), Riverdale Ward Wins Quilt for Highest Attendance at 

Relief Society Visiting Teacher Convention 

September 28, 1963 

Front row, left to right: Jean Porter, organist; Doris Woodbury, Counse- 
lor; Perneica Fiet, Counselor; Ruth Ritter, President; stake officers: Myrl S. 
Stewart, President; Delia Greenwell, First Counselor; Nina Atwood, Secretary- 
Treasurer; board members: Margie Peterson, Ileen Henderson, Beth Tesch. 

Second row, left to right: Ruth Burton; Elva Hawkley; Neta Farr; 
Blanche Gibby; Donna Child; Ida Ritter; Mary Child; Pearl Child; Leah 
Cook; Mabel Ellis; Tillie Adams. 

Back row, left to right: Carol Nessen; Virginia Jackson; Jackie Keller- 
strass; Bessie Boswell; Gladys Sorenson; Coralee Green; Jean Jensen; Elaine 
Ewert; Berdean Crabtree; Myrtle Carlsen, Hazel Manning; Asenath Davis. 

Sister Stewart reports: "This was such a unique and inspiring convention. 
Humble, sincere talks were given to inspire and encourage the visiting teachers. 
A special poem 'The Sacred Calling of the Visiting Teacher,' written by Lila 
Lutz, was read by her, and a copy, typed on blue paper and decorated with 
the Relief Society seal and gold ribbon, was presented to each visiting teacher 
present. The singing of the stake Singing Mothers chorus was glorious and 
beautiful. The film 'Unto the Least of These' was shown. It was very spiritual, 
and every teacher was thrilled, enthused, and inspired to be a better visiting 

"The Riverdale Stake Relief Society presidency and board members made 
the exquisitely beautiful quilt of green and white border print, quilted in a very 
pretty pattern. The Riverdale Ward had eighty-two per cent of their visiting 
teachers in attendance at the convention, which was an exceptionally splendid 
record. Our aim this year is to double our attendance at the monthly visiting 
teacher meetings, which, in turn, will improve greatly the quality of our 
teaching. We feel that every teacher went away from the convention with the 
resolve to be a better teacher in every way. Dainty refreshments were served." 




APRIL 1964 

Northern Far East Mission Relief Society Sisters at Youth Conference 
Tokyo, Japan, August 1963 

First three women, starting at the wall, and curving to the front, left to 
right: Toshi Suzuki, East Central District Relief Society President; Shizuko 
Asakawa, First Counselor, East Central District; Chieko Abe, Northern Far 
East Mission Relief Society Counselor. 

Far right, at the back, Peggy H. Andersen, President, Northern Far East 
Mission Relief Society. 

Large Kanji character sign says: Fujo Kyokai — "Relief Society." 

Displays represent the different departments. 

Sister Andersen reports: "For the first time in the history of the Northern 
Far East Mission, an all-youth conference was held for four days in August 
1963. One of the highlights of the conference was the last day — Sunday, 
at which time the various departments of the Church demonstrated a typical 
meeting. The Sunday School, Genealogy Department, Priesthood, and Relief 
Society participated. 

"It was a thrilling sight to watch these lovely Japanese women meet for 
the first time in a building of their own. All meetings were held in the first 
chapel ever constructed in Japan. The building was not quite completed, 
but the saints were overwhelmed with the spirit manifested in these meetings. 
The artificial flowers in the picture were made out of paper napkins in order 
to cover up the unfinished pulpit. At the Relief Society section the various 
departments of theology, work meeting, literature, and social science were 
explained, and the visiting teacher message department was particularly 
stressed. Also, the lessons for 1963-64 were summarized. 

"It is significant to note that a large percentage of our women in Japan 
are among the youth, so it was only natural that Relief Society should be 
included in a Youth Conference. Since many of the girls and women are 
unmarried, I spoke to them concerning the power and dignity of womanhood, 
and of preparing themselves for a worthy Priesthood bearer. About 200 were 
in attendance at the special Relief Society gathering, but the picture repre- 
sents various officers from several branches. Another thrilling sight was to 
see the members from branches all over Japan as they said goodbye to one 
another. For the first time in the mission many of them were privileged to 
meet one another. Tears were shed in almost every case, as they expressed 
the wonderful spirit of the Lord which was felt in the meeting." 



Iris W. Schow 

Sleep is to mount with Pegasus 
And leave one's groove to soar afar, 
Forward or backward into time 
To lands more numerous than there 

Sleep is the glad surrender, when 
The muscle and the mind are made 
To yield up pain, fatigue, and grief, 
That time may mend what life has 

Sleep is the calm rehearsal we 
Perform each night by closing eyes 
On all life holds, and through the dark 
Resting in faith we shall arise. 


Both Individual and 
Group Tours 

There will be several tours to the 

World's Fair including the Hill 

Cumorah Pageant. 




Margaret Lund Tours 

3021 South 23d East 

P. O. Box 2065 

Salt Lake City, Utah 84109 

HU 5-2444 - AM 2-2337 

Idaho Falls 522-2581 






MY FATHER-Madsen 20 


O LORD I GO— Schumann 20 

PEACE OF MIND-Stickles 25 


TELLING-Haydn 25 

IN THY FORM-Madsen 20 


MUSIC— Spross 30 

FOR JOY— Stephens 20 


FATHERS— Armbruster 25 



OMNIPOTENCE-Schubert 20 

Use this advertisement as your 
order blank 

Music Sent on Approval 


j 15 E. 1st South 

i Salt Lake City, Utah 84111 

1 Please send the music indicated 

' above. 

1 D On Approval D Charge 

j n Money Enclosed 

1 Name - - 

1 Address 

1 City and 


liai|iieslHliKi€ I 



. 15 E. 1st South 

J> Salt Lake City 11, Utah 


The New 
Magna- Vu 


■^A little marvel for reading, 
crocheting, and knitting . . . 

■^Hangs around your neck and 
sits on your chest comfortably. 

■^Leaves the hands free for 

-^Comes in a leather case. 

-^Magnifies a large area 

beautifully . . . ideal for fine 
work and for looking at detail. 

plus 32 cents postage 

Deseret Book Company, 44 East South Temple, 

Salt Lake City, Utah. 

Please send me a Magna Vu Glass. Enclosed is 

$5.27 in monev order , check I have an 

account, please charge 



City Zone . . . State 

Residents of Utah include 3'/2% sales tax. 


21 days — June 21 to July 11: 

World's Fair, Church historical places 

(does not include pageant). 

27 days — July 13 to August 8: 
World's Fair, Church historical places. 
Includes Hill Cumorah Pageant. Also, 
Quebec and Montreal, Canada. 

24 days — July 23 to August 15: 
World's Fair, Church historical places, 
including Hill Cumorah Pageant. 

All tours include: Show at Jones' 
Beach, Rockettes, Top Broadway 
Show and a special event ticket at 
World's Fair, etc. 

Esther James Tours 

460 7th Avenue 
Salt Lake City, Utah 84103 
Phones: EM 3-5229 - EL 9-8051 

Thank You 

Loretta Hanson 

Thank you for your kindness, 

For thoughtful things you've done; 

For always knowing what to say, 

When darkness hides the sun. 

Thank you for your friendship, 

A true and priceless gift; 

For always being close at hand, 

When spirits need a lift. 

Words can never tell you, 

But you may know some day; 

The comfort you have given, 

Along life's rocky way. 

I pray to God in heaven. 

That I may some day be, 

The help and guide to someone. 

That you have been to me. 



Linnie F. Robinson 

Unbelief was desert in him 

While rumors fought the dried abyss; 

Until at last one step forthcoming, 

He said, "I'll see how false he is." 

Then crowds came stumbling up the road 

Men clamored much to see and talk; 

Within a tree he waited long 

Where Jesus' sandaled feet would walk. 

But Jesus stopped and called his name, 

"Come down, I must abide with thee!" 

And Zaccheus ran to make a feast. 

Then waited for his guest to be. 

When Zaccheus looked into his eyes 

He knew above his heart's surmise — 

"Half of my goods I give away — " 

So reads his love unto this day. 


March and October 


April — June — Nov. — Jan. — Feb. — March 




July New York World's Fair — 
Daily Departures via Bus-Air-Train 


June and September 




14 South Main Street 

Salt Lake City 




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Mail or bring the editions you wish bound to 
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One Hundred Two 

Mrs. Elizabeth Jane Russell Day 
Hunter, Utah 

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Onamia, Minnesota 

One Hundred 

Mrs. Hannah Stubbs Jones 
Salt Lake City, Utah 

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Burlington, Wyoming 


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Mrs. Eva EInora Jensen Jensen 
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Murray, Utah 

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sight into latter-day prophecy. 




by Akin R. Dyer 

This well-known Church author, an Assist- 
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The Dream and 
^ ^Substance 

• • 

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to a dream ... a dream that 
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progress of his new clinic build- 
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Noticing a pool of water on 
the floor, indicating a problem 
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crawled under to investigate. 
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Seven months prior to this 
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From the Beneficial Life files 


Virgil H. Smith, Pres. 

Salt Lake City, Utah 

Over 590 million dollars of life insurance in force. 



•^ ^-^lii^ 

r ». '"^ 















■wf^sf.' »>» fi 

^ The 

Relief Society 


Volume 51 Number 5 May 1964 

'if V 

,<>5 ^ •' 


Margery S. Stewart 

I am crowded within 

With lilies and new oranges 

Green as jade on the beloved bough 

Stars flow through me, for I have 

Made room for stars, a space 

For suns. I have grown out 

Of myself, this morning. 

I have grown out of the knotted 

Gourd grieved bone, 

Broken bowl. 

Out of intolerable pain 

I grew into this tall self, 

This self who knows what 

Mocking birds are crying 

Upon the morning, for I, 

Like them, am become notes 

Of music. 

I can be placed in any melody, 

Movement, in symphony or lullaby. 

Or the deep singing of the 

Field woman, gathering apples 

In September. 


The Cover: ^ Roses on a White Fence, Cape Cod, Massachusetts 
Transparency by Josef Muench 
Lithographed in Full Color by Deseret News Press 

Frontispiece: " Trees Th^at Lean Over Water, Lake Mempremagog, Vermont 
Photograph by H. Armstrong Roberts 

Art Layout: Dick Scopes 

Illustrations: Mary Scopes 


The Magazine is now an integral 
part of my life, and I look forward 
so much to receiving my copies. I 
pass them on to my Relief Society 
sisters so that they may enjoy the 
lessons, and then they always manage 
to read the Magazine from cover to 
cover. May you go from strength to 
strength with this wonderful Maga- 
zine, and continue to bring joy to us 

Olive M. Evans 

Lichfield, Staffordshire 

My heart went out to Sister Lund- 
gren when I read her article in the 
January issue of the Magazine — 
"What Is a Work Meeting Leader?" 
She put into words what I have felt 
in my heart. Thanks to the wonder- 
ful counselors and stake leaders I had 
while serving as a work leader, and 
also my work leader, while I was 
work director counselor, that I have 
this warm feeling for ReUef Society. 
Mrs. Donaldine J. Boase 

Salt Lake City, Utah 

As each March 10th arrives, a white 
card is placed in my mailbox announc- 
ing the renewal of subscription for the 
most interesting Magazine I have ever 
read — a gift from my wonderful 
mother, for many years — The Relief 
Society Magazine. From its pages 
have come comforting thoughts and 
truths, which stand as a witness for 
the salvation of man. 

Irene Carrigan Winn 

Ogden, Utah 

I want to thank you for our beau- 
tiful, inspiring Magazine. I wait im- 
patiently each month for the Maga- 
zine and the words of love and advice 
it contains. 

Shirley Woolf 

Bulawayo, Southern Rhodesia 
South Africa 

I want to let you know how very 
much I do enjoy reading the Maga- 
zine. Each article holds so much 
meaning and seems to give me an 
extra extra special lift. I was married 
last September, and my mother gave 
me a year's subscription to the Maga- 
zine as a Christmas present. I carmot 
think of a better gift. 

Mrs. Dale Hamp 

Soda Springs, Idaho 

This little booklet (The Relief So- 
ciety Magazine) has been appreciated 
so much. When I have failed to make 
any headway with my friends in put- 
ting forward the Latter-day Saint 
story, I find the Magazine speaks to 
them in the lovely stories and the 

Margaret McLintock 
Rutherglen, Scotland 

Over the years, as a Relief Society 
worker, I have used the thoughts of 
Celia Luce (a frequent contributor to 
The Relief Society Magazine) many 
times in conducting a class. 
Venice M. Crosby 

Phoenix, Arizona 

I was delighted to read in the 
March issue of the Magazine the 
article (by Myrtle E. Henderson) on 
the proper use of language. Some of 
the mistakes most often made were 
considered. Please give us more such 
helps. We should take more pride in 
speaking correctly. Perhaps, if our 
errors are pointed out, and the rea- 
sons why they are not correct are 
explained, we will improve more rap- 
idly. As a MagQzine representative, 
I find it easy to get new subscriptions, 
as well as renewals, to our Magazine 
because of the excellent helps and the 
wide range and interest of those helps. 
Olive H. Fox 
Salt Lake City, Utah 

Published monthly by THE GENERAL BOARD OF RELIEF SOCIETY of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. © 1964 by 
the Relief Society General Board Association. Editorial end Business Office: 76 North Main, Solt Lake City, Utah 84111; Phone EMpire 
4-2511; Subscriptions 2642; Editorial Dept. 2654. Subscription Price $2 00 a year; foreign, $2.00 a year; 20c a copy, payable in ad- 
vonce. The Magazine is not sent after subscription expires. No bock numbers con be supplied. Renew promptly so that no copies 
will be missed. Report change of address at once, giving old ond new address. Entered as second-closs matter February 18, 1914, 
at the Post Office, Salt Lake City, Utah, under the Act of March 3, 1879. Acceptance for mailing at speciol rate of postoge 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 retoined for six months only. The Magazine is not responsible for unsolicited manuscripts 

The no li^ff S^Ci^ty Magazine 


Editor Marianne C. Sharp 
Associate Editor Vesta P. Crawford 
General Manager Belle S. Spafford 

Special Features 

324 The Family Goes Back to School Elaine Reiser Alder 

328 Literary Contest Announcements 1964 

331 Your Poem and You Eva Willes Wangsgaard 

339 Art As a Hobby Myrtle E. Henderson 

376 Magazine Honor Roll for 1963 Marianne C. Sharp 


334 Adjustment Alice Guhler Sabin 

342 Gramps and Beanie Shirley Thulin 

370 Your Heart to Understanding — Chapter 4 Hazel M. Thomson 

General Features 

322 From Near and Far 

347 Woman's Sphere Ramona W. Cannon 

348 Editorial: The Lighted Window Vesta P. Crawford 

390 Notes From the Field: Relief Society Activities Hulda Parker 
400 Birthday Congratulations 

The Home - Inside and Out 

What Is a Mother? by Margaret Richards, 351; Mother — Pioneer of the Present, by Hazel 
Sowards Cannon, 352; Thanks, Mom, for Everything, by Sara O. Moss, 353; Verdi on 
the Farm, by Winona F. Thomas, 354; Ask Mrs. Braithwaite, by Janice Dixon, 356; 
A Letter From Grandma, by Violet Nimmo, 358; A Call in the Night, by Mary E. 
Gallamore, 359; Cuddly Crib Quilts, by Adelle Ashby, 360; Sewing Time, by Dorothy 
C. Little, 362; Potpourri of Handy Hints, by Jo M. Stock, 362; Recipes From the South- 
west, by Romaine R. Cooksey, 363; Appetite Teasers for Preschoolers, by Margaret 
Maxwell, 364; Oatmeal Date Bread, by Anne Marie Astle, 366; Select Your Own Dessert, 
by Patricia M. Faas, 367; Transfers for Children's Clothing, by Janet W. Breeze, 367; 
From the Dear Windows of Home, by Leona Fetzer Wintch, 368; Alma A. Fernelius — 
"Lady of Lovely Crocheting," 369; The Right Key, by Luella Foster, 388; Whom 
Should I Seek? by Blanche Briggs, 388; Joy, by Olive Sharp, 389; Double Your 
Pleasure — Double Your Subscription, by Ouida Johns Pedersen, 389; Life Is Beautiful, 
by Ida G. Hepworth, 397. 


321 I Am Crowded Within — Frontispiece Margery S. Stewart 

Secret, by Ida Elaine James, 330; Spring Lambs, by Vesta N. Fairbairn, 333; My Neighbor, 
by Evelyn Fjeldsted, 337; Valley Sky at Sunrise, by Pearle M. Olsen, 338; Renewal, by Caro- 
line Eyring Miner, 350; Prayer for My Daughter, by CaroUe Denton, 375; Prayer for Peo- 
ple, by Gilean Douglas, 381; Memory, by Grace Barker Wilson, 398; Summer Song, by 
Linnie F. Robinson, 398; We Pass But Once, by Catherine B. Bowles, 399; Unsaid Words, 
by Zara Sabin, 399; Shape of Time, by Thelma J. Limd, 399; My Mother, by Christie 
Lund Coles, 400. 


The Egg Carton Castle 
Eugene^ Oregon 
September 1963 

Dear Sharon: 

V\^nAT fun it has been, thinking of 
all the things about which to write 
you. Ever since you asked me to tell 
you some of the secrets of being a 
^p- happy "student wife/' I have had a 

I nA chance to think back over the five 

III U years Doug and I are conckfding as 

I ||%P graduate student and wife. As you 

know, he will receive his Ph.D. in 
the spring, and I must confess that 
getting my P.H.T. (Putting Hus- 
band Through), along with him has 
been equallv as challenging, if not 
more fun! So, let's chat about some 
aspects of married student life. 

Having a small baby, as you do 
and I did, and moving to a new 
town into barracks-type housing, 
may present demands on your mar- 
riage which you haven't expected. 
We readily admit that the early years 
of our schooling presented some ad- 
justment for both of us. Doug was 
at school all day until suppertime, 
but he enjoyed his two hours at 
home then, playing with the baby. 
He returned to the library nearly 
every evening until it closed at 10 
P.M. — and our thin-walled apart- 
ment, with its creaky floors, didn't 
make me feel very much at home. 
But I soon realized that all the 
other student wives around me en- 
joyed friendships during those long 
afternoons and evenings, at least as 
much as I. I tried to find opportun- 
Lhme Reiser Aider {\-{q^ |-q nieet some of them and 

found the time rewarding. As our 
friendships grew, we enjoyed visit- 
ing in each other's homes, sharing 
ideas, helping with sewing or knit- 
ting projects, trading magazines, and 
even having "potluck" suppers to 
the surprise of our husbands every 
month or so. As our children grew 
older, we took turns tending each 








other's children so that each of us 
could have an afternoon off. 

The friendships we have culti- 
vated in our student living have re- 
mained as choice as any we hope to 
have. Most of us have moved from 
our barracks community, but we 
still delight in hearing of gradua- 
tions, births, and progress of each 
child. We long to visit each other 
in different parts of the world. 

Though the days are long — and 
must be if the husband is to get all 
his studving, writing, and part-time 
work done — you will no doubt find 
the time you spend with Tom is so 
precious that you enjoy every minute 
of it. Doug and I even enjoyed 
grocery shopping once a week — 
because it was our Friday night date 
and a chance to get away from the 
books! Sundays were our special 
days of rest from schoolwork with 
Church activities and visits from 
friends and quiet relaxation in the 
evening, listening to the rebroadcast 
of the Tabernacle Choir, looo miles 

During the long days and evenings, 
you can keep busy doing many 
things which will make the hours 
productive and Tom proud of you 
— learning to cook special dishes 
and surprising him with them at 
supper, sewing for yourself, Tom, 
and the children (a real money-sav- 
er), making Christmas cards and 
gifts, embroidering, knitting, mak- 
ing a baby book or scrapbook, writ- 
ing letters or reading. You may have 
other hobbies I am not aware of, 
but this is a good opportunity to 
enjoy them. The time can be 
wasted or used — depending on 
what vou wish. While Tom is pro- 
gressing mentally in his schooling, 
vou will realize that you can come 
closer together if you engage in 
some kind of mental activity similar 

to his studies. An often-used library 
card is an inexpensive avenue toward 
keeping )our mind alert. 

Above all, don't begrudge or 
apologize for the time you spend in 
school. It is a privilege to attend 
school, and nowadays it is so com- 
mon for young couples with families 
to be in school that there is no need 
for embarrassment. Learn to laugh 
about the odd things you may have 
to do — seating guests on the floor 
because there aren't enough chairs, 
eating with odd kinds of utensils 
because you don't have complete 
table service, or eating beans for a 
week because your food money 
didn't quite hold out! Many of 
your neighbors are probably doing 
the same. Now that we are nearly 
through with school, we feel pangs 
for the fun and funny things about 
barracks living. 

We decided, when we moved 
away from our parents and life- 
long friends, that our chief sources 
of entertainment would be our 
children. Church activities, and our 
new friends. Since we knew no one 
at first, we began making friends 
and soon had scores of guests to 
invite to our home. Our favorite 
activity with friends was to invite 
them to our apartment "for dessert." 
We would serve punch and cookies 
or brownies and spend the evening 
visiting, sharing our colored slides, 
listening to music, or playing Scrab- 
ble. Our guests brought their child- 
ren and put them to sleep on our 
bed. The next time we took Scott 
with us to their apartment nearby 
to enjov a similar evening. 

It would be unfair to underestimate 
the value of the Young Marrieds 
program and Relief Society. Both 
gave us friends of all ages, and the 
opportunity to keep busy by serving 
others. I never lacked for a "mother 


MAY 1964 

-tack to ceiling 
with small, horseshoe-shaped 
cord tacks 


pierced through 



cardboard lampshade 

Aluminum foil 
(as heat protector) 

■Shape with cardboard 
Cover inside with aluminum foil 
Cover outside with burlap or other material 

The knitting needles cross in center of 
lamp to hold bulb and socket in place. 
Total cost: Approx. 75c - $1.00. 

away from home," because the wo- 
men at Rehef Society were all wil- 
ling to be one to me. Scott has 
been active in Relief Society since 
he was six weeks old — and has 
loved it! 

One of the hardest things about 
student living is financial manage- 
ment. This is where you can shine, 
however. Studying week-end ads in 
the newspapers, preparing foods 
that are nutritious and yet inex- 
pensive, and constantly watching 

for ways of improving your money 
management will be keys to your 

Certain meat cuts (pot roast, 
shank end ham, chickens) provide 
good nutrition at minimum cost and 
allow ''planned overs" for other days 
in the week, sandwiches, casseroles, 
soup stock, stew, hash, or cold 
plates. Keep your eyes open for 
other specials during the week end. 
If hamburger is the only thing in 
our price range, I make sure the 



trimmings — baked potato, tossed 
salad, and a favorite dessert — light 
up Doug's eyes. One day a week for 
baking gives us fresh bread, rolls, 
and dozens of cookies — at little 
cost. Rather than serving rich des- 
serts, we eat fresh fruits and feel we 
are simply but well fed. 

You may find it economical to 
buy a quarter or half of a beef, or 
cases of canned goods, jointly with 
another couple, and then dividing 
them evenly. We rented a frozen- 
food locker near our apartment and 
kept it filled with the beef, specials 
from the supermarket, and home- 
frozen fruits and vegetables which 
we bought (and often picked our- 
selves) from farms nearby. 

We avoided expensive or specialty 
foods, as a matter of economy, and 
have felt our health and budget are 
better for it. 

Speaking of economy, let me men- 
tion a problem you may face when 
you get in the middle of things in 
your school routine. You may find, 
as we did, that it is necessary for 
the wife to do something to supple- 
ment the family income. . Many 
girls are able to find satisfactory 
work in offices and stores, but I 
preferred a job which could be done 
at home. After advertising my ser- 
vices as a typist, I never lacked for 
typing jobs which could be done 
while Scott slept or played nearby. 
Other wives chose to baby sit for 
working mothers, some did ironing 
for single students, and one or two 
took orders for baked goods which 
they made at home. Since we were 
living together in an equal status, 
there was no class distinction for 
work — the most highly respected 
people were those who worked the 

There are a number of ways you 
may save money on home furnish- 

ings. You would be amazed at the 
fun you can have making furniture 
and decorations for your apartment. 
We refinished old living room and 
dining room furniture which our 
parents gave us, and made room 
partitions from dyed burlap, painted 
sticks, and reed drapes. We painted 
the rooms in cheerful colors and 
made suitable curtains to match each 
room. Bricks and boards made 
ample bookcases. We were delight- 
ed with our ''modern" hanging lamp 
in our living room — constructed 
of cardboard, aluminum foil, burlap 
(to match our partition), and knit- 
ting needles! Our apartment even 
has flat corrugated egg dividers 
stapled to the ceiling for insulation, 
a legacy from the previous tenants— 
so we fondly call our 500 square feet 
of ''home" the Egg Carton Castle! 

We hope you will enjoy your 
student years as much as we have 
ours. We have been told time and 
again that "these are the rich years 
of life," and we realize it now as we 
step a little higher toward responsi- 
bility. Never again will we live so 
close to so many people and enjoy 
the association of young adults and 
children alike. We all had little 
money and often wondered if we 
would get through the month with a 
dime left, but we learned one valu- 
able lesson through our student liv- 
ing — the value of the rich things 
in life. 

Friends, family, goals, education, 
music, beauty, nature — and all 
things which the gospel gives to us 
— these can be enjoyed regardless 
of where you live. Student life is a 
worthwhile source of appreciation 
for these things — and we hope 
vour vears will hold such fond mem- 
ories for you as they do for us. 

With love, 


Literary Contest Announcements 


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 
outlying stakes and missions of the Church as well as from those in 
and near Utah. Since the two contests are entirely separate, requiring 
different writing skills, the winner of an award in one of them in no 
way precludes winning in the other. 

Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest 

The Eliza R. Snow Poem Con- 3. The poem must not exceed fifty 

test opens with this announce- lines and should be typewritten, if pos- 

, ii A_ 4- ic ic\aA sible. Where this cannot be done, it 

ment and closes August 15, 1964. ^^^^^^ ^^ ^^^.^^^^ ^^.^^^^ ^^^^ ;^^^ 

Prizes will be awarded as follows: side of the paper is to be used. (A 
^. . ^.^ duplicate copy of the poem should be 

J^irst prize {t)4U retained by contestants to insure 

Second prize $30 against loss.) 

Third prize $20 4. The sheet on which the poem is 

Prize poems will be pubhshed ™««^ ^^ *« be without signature or 

• 4.U T -in^tr • £ rni ^^^^^ identifymg marks, 

m the January 1965 issue 01 The c xt 1 + +1 

..•^ . 5. No explanatory material or pic- 

ReLief Society Magazine (the ture is to accompany a poem, 
birth month of EHza R. Snow). e. Each poem is to be accompanied 

Prize-winning poems become by a stamped envelope on which is 

the property of the Relief Society written the contestant's name and ad- 
General Board, and may not be ^'%^- ^°"^ ^^ P^™^" ^'^ "^* *° ^^ 

published by others except upon ^ \ ^.^^^^ statement is to accom- 

written permission from the Gen- pany the poem submitted, certifying: 

eral Board. The General Board a. That the author is a member of 
reserves the right to pubhsh any The Church of Jesus Christ of 

of the other poems submitted, Latter-day Saints, 

paying for them at the time of ^ ^^^^ *^^ po®'" (state title) is the 
publication at the regular Maga- contestant's original work. 

zine rates ^' ^^^^ i* ^^^ never been published. 

d. That it is not in the hands of an 
editor or other person with a view 

Rules for the contest: to publication. 

1. This contest is open to all Latter- e. That it will not be published nor 
day Saint women, exclusive of mem- submitted elsewhere for publica- 
bers of the Relief Society General tion until the contest is decided. 
Board and employees of the Relief 8. A writer who has received the 
Society General Board. first prize for two consecutive years 

2. Only one poem may be submitted must wait two years before she is 
by each contestant. again eligible to enter the contest. 



9. The judges shall consist of one 
member 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 disagreement among 
the judges, all poems selected for a 
place by the various judges will be 
submitted to a specially selected com- 
mittee for final decision. 

In evaluating the poems, considera- 
tion will be given to the following 

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, 1964. 

11. All' entries are to be addressed 
to Relief Society Eliza R. Snow Poem 
Contest, 76 North Main, Salt Lake 
City, Utah 84111. 

Relief Society Short Story Contest 

The Relief Society Short Story 
Contest for 1964 opens with this 
announcement and closes August 
15, 1964. 

The prizes this year will be as 
follows : 

First prize $75 

Second prize $60 

Third prize $50 

The three prize-winning stories 
will be published consecutively in 
the first three issues of The Re- 
lief Society Magazine for 1965. 
Prize-winning stories become the 
property of the Relief Society 
General Board and may not be 
published by others except up- 
on written permission from the 
General Board. The General 
Board reserves the right to pub- 
lish any of the other stories en- 
tered 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 Gen- 
eral Board and employees 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 type- 
written. The number of the words 
must appear on the first page of the 
manuscript. (All words should be 
counted, including one and two-letter 
words.) A duplicate copy of the story 
should be retained by contestants to 
insure against loss. 

4. The contestant's name is not to 
appear anywhere on the manuscript, 
but a stamped envelope on which is 
written the contestant's name and ad- 
dress is to be enclosed with the story. 
Nom de plumes are not to be used. 

5. A signed statement is to accom- 
pany the story submitted certifying: 

a. That the author is a member of 
The Church of Jesus Christ of 
Latter-day Saints. 

b. That the author has had at least 
one literary composition pub- 
lished or accepted for publica- 
tion. (This statement must give 
name and date of publication in 
which the contestant's work has 
appeared or, if not yet published, 
evidence of acceptance for pub- 

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 


MAY 1964 

not be published nor submitted 
elsewhere for publication until 
the contest is decided. 

6. No explanatory material or pic- 
ture 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 
member 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 disagreement among 
the judges, all stories selected for a 
place by the various judges will be 

submitted to a specially selected com- 
mittee for final decision. 

In evaluating the stories, considera- 
tion will be given to the following 

a. Characters and their presenta- 

b. Plot development 

c. Message of the story 

d. Writing style 

9. Entries must be postmarked not 
later than August 15, 1964. 

10. All entries are to be addressed 
to Relief Society Short Story Contest, 
76 North Main, Salt Lake City, Utah 




Ida Elaine James 

School girls ever and endlessly. 

Twos and threes and single file 

Swinging their book straps, sweaters . . . free! 

Breast the upgrade with a smile; 

Crossing, re-crossing each other . . . behind, 

In front and beside . . . stop, start, and march. 

I wonder what it is they find 

To smile about so much. The arch 

Of the gully is gray and overhung 

With dried, sad branches. Summer is dead, 

Loose stones are rude, yet gayly among 

Rough paths below, drab overhead, 

They thread their way, dally, and smile. 

One turns off alone; she looks at me. 

I follow her glance for half a mile — 

At the sky, at her toes, up at a tree. 

There's nothing but December air; 

Nothing to smile at that I can see. 

My searching circles everywhere; 

She smiles and smiles . . . why should she? 




Eva Willes Wangs gaard 

Author of Singing Hearts, After the Blossoming, Down This 
Road, Shape of Earth. 

Most of what I have to say of 
poetry will incline toward the tra- 
ditional, by which I mean that 
great part of our poetic literature 
from "Beowulf" to Robert Frost's 
"Death of the Hired Man," in 
which the reader identified him- 
self or herself with the characters, 
understood the ideals by which 
they lived and for which they 
died, and, knowing them, cast a 
light on the reader's own prob- 
lems and purposes. From gen- 
eration to generation through 
centuries, these poems have shed 
their influence on the growth of 
civilization as we know it. 

No one has so far created a 
satisfactory answer to the ques- 
tion: What is a poem? We can 
only open little doors. Poems re- 
semble apples. They are of in- 
finite variety, from the pretty but 
pulpless rose pip to the luscious 
Golden Delicious. A poem must 
be attractive in form to entice 
the reader, have meat you can 
sink your mental teeth into, a 
flavor that delights, excites, and 
satisfies, a core of wisdom, and 
seeds to project into other hearts 
and, perhaps, into the future. 
And, like the tree, a poem must 
have a reservoir of food from 
which to draw its sustenance. 
Now, how do you fill this reser- 

You Learn 

FIRST — A beginning poet 
needs a good rhyming dictionary, 
for, whether or not she ever in- 
tends to write rhyming verse, she 
should know what she is using 
or rejecting and give her poetry 
a chance to shape its own form 
before it is born. Besides, a rhym- 
ing dictionary, at least the one 
you will buy or own, begins with 
a chapter which explains and il- 
lustrates feet, meter, verse, varia- 
tions, and stanza forms, and does 
it interestingly and enjoyably. 
You will find as you study that 
you have already picked up sub- 
consciously, through reading, 
many of the patterns and devices 
explained here. For instance, 
everyone, poet or layman, is 
aware of meter and rhyme to 
some degree. But the other 
phases of the subject, you can 
study and learn and store in the 
reservoir of your subconscious so 
they will be as automatic as your 
grammar and English usage. 

SECOND — Increase your vo- 
cabulary. A good Thesaurus 
helps here. It groups words and 
phrases on specific subjects and 
presents them alphabetically, 
words that convey kindness, for 
instance, classifying them as to 
nouns, verbs, adjectives, and ad- 


MAY 1964 

verbs, and including phrases as 
well as words. 

A good vocabulary includes the 
knowledge of the different mean- 
ings of a word. Merriam-Web- 
ster's Unabridged lists at least 
thirteen different meanings for 
the word take. You should study, 
at the same time, the values in 
letters and their play on the 
emotions. There are liquid 
sounds like / and r, sibilants like 
s, dentals like d and t. Live with 
them, roll them around on your 
tongue, feel them, so that when 
you need them they cluster 
around a thought as iron filings 
collect on a magnet. 

THIRD — Be natural Write 
in the language of today as you 
speak, not in the vintage of an 
older day when words like o'er 
and e'er were in common usage 
and so are found in poetry also. 
Above all, let your language be 
sincere and natural, not neces- 
sarily conscious of being written. 

FOURTH — Read, read, and 
read. Especially read history, ge- 
ography, the classics, and the 
Bible. Familiarize yourself with 
the general sciences — botany, 
geology, ornithology, and with 
philosophies and doctrines. From 
these spring your future allusions 
and images, and knowledge deep- 
ens your thinking and enhances 
your expression. 

FIFTH — Be aware. Make 
friends with all the living things 
about you. Know the shape of a 
leaf, its feel and texture; know 
the grasses, the bark of trees. Be 
aware of color in everything, pet- 
als, sky, old wood, rushes and 
reeds, earth and sea, everywhere. 
Become acutely aware of sounds 
and forms. Increase your inter- 
est and wonder. And store all 

this as naturally as your body ac- 
cepts its food. 

SIXTH — Write. Try out vari- 
ous meters, verse and stanza 
forms. Try out your thoughts. 
Let them flow. Criticize your 
technique afterward, but do not 
let it impede the flow. 

SEVENTH — and perhaps 
most important — Find the inner 
you. Let your thoughts sink in- 
to "the beyond" where you, and 
only you, dwell, so that the flavor 
of you is a part of every poem 
you write, not what you have 
been taught, or have read or 
heard, but really you. The savor 
of your experiences, your inter- 
pretations, incidents seen through 
your eyes, and your appreciation 
of your world, must enrich your 

An Illiicf-i'O'l-irkrt 

Let us illustrate the birth of a 
minor poem. Let us say, "Today 
has been a golden day." We have 
the beginning of a lyric, a four- 
footed iambic line. Now partic- 
ularize, and the poem grows. 
What was golden about this day? 
"A lark sent up a trill, and notes 
like golden music rolled back 
down the sky's blue hill." Now 
we have the color blue contrast- 
ing with the goldenness of sound 
and emphasizing it. What else? 
"Two finches shunted nuggets 
back and forth from throat to 
throat, and birch lace sifted sun- 
light fine to gild a warbler's coat." 
Now we h^ve enriched the vocab- 
ulary of gold with nugget and 
gild, and the words shunted and 
sifted which are more effective 
than adjectives in describing 
what is happening. Wings and 
movement have entered the pic- 
ture. Sunlight is there with its 



hint of goldenness. The warbler's 
coat is yellow and a memory is 
stirred of its capability of golden 
song. "My baby played with 
golden blocks, with gold dust in 
his hair, while I washed plates in 
gleaming suds, for gold was 
everywhere." Now we move in- 
side and see the speaker washing 
dishes and looking out the win- 
dow with her baby sitting in the 

cone of sunlight streaming 
through the panes, gilding his 
hair and the blocks. She is so 
happy that even the suds are 
gleaming. Then we conclude by 
tying back to the opening line 
which set the theme. "Today has 
been a golden day. Did you not 
find it such? Was it the wind 
or just my heart that had the 
Midas touch?" 


Hamilton, Anne: Seven Principles of Poetry 

Hillyer, Robert: First Principles of Verse 

(Published by The Writer, Inc., 8 Arlington Street, Boston, Mass.) 

Holmes, John: Writing Poetry 

Wood, Clement: Unabridged Rhyming Dictionary 

(The World PubHshing Company, 2231 West 10th Street, Cincinnati, Ohio) 

Rogets Thesaurus of the English Language 

(Garden City Publishing Company, Garden City, New York) 





^^ ! 4 


Spring Lambs 

Vesta N. Fairbairn 

Peaceful, the deep-wooled sheep 
In lush, green grasses keep 
Their lively lambs, new-born, 
And huddled in the buckthorn 
The gray, half-buried rocks 
Are sleeping hillside flocks, 
While soft as wool, and white 
As fleece the blown clouds might 
Be spring lambs browsing high 
Blue pastures of the sky. 



Alice GubJer Sabin 

Uason," Salley spoke softly. Jason 
did not answer. He was reading the 
evening paper. ''J^^^n, honey," she 
said. His foot twitched a bit. That 
was all the response she got. "Any- 
body home?" she asked, and then 
added, "obviously not." She put 
the magazine down that she had 
been reading and went over beside 
him. Ruffling his hair, she said, 
"Hi, Jason! Remember me? Fm 
your wife Salley." 

Jason stirred and made a gruff 
little sound. She knew she had 
almost got through to him. Some- 
times he was the deafest and dumb- 
est person on earth. She glanced at 
the paper he was reading. No won- 
der! He was intent on the sports 
section. She was no competition 
for the basketball scores. With resig- 
nation, she retrieved her magazine 
and curled up on the sofa. 

Ten minutes later he let his paper 
fall to the floor. "Did you say 
something, Salley?" he asked. 

Salley did not raise her eyes from 
the magazine. Silently she went on 

reading. He stretched his long arms 
and legs luxuriously, and then extri- 
cated himself from his deep chair. 
"I declare I heard someone speak. 
Have you any idea who it was?" He 
stood looking down at her. She 
turned a page of her magazine and 
continued reading. He ran his 
fingers through her shiny curls, 
tumbling them. "Hi, Salley, remem- 
ber me? Fm your husband Jason." 
She went on reading. He pushed 
back a curl and kissed her on the 
tip of one ear. 

"Oh, Jason," she said, "you're im- 
possible. It was hours ago when I 
spoke to you. I have forgotten 
what I wanted to say." 

"But, honey," he protested, "I 
couldn't hear you. You see, I was 

"Oh!" she said with exasperation. 
"Honestly! Tliere isn't another 
man like you in all the world! I 
ask you a question one day, and you 
do not hear me until the next and 
then you answer me. By that time 
Fve forgotten what I asked you." 



He grinned. 'That, my dear, is 
one of the remarkable things about 
your husband. My mind is equipped 
with a delayed action device. Lots of 
trouble is averted that way." 

Now he was teasing her. This was 
probably the wrong time to ap- 
proach him with the subject she had 
wanted to mention. 

He smiled at her. What a little 
pixie she was. A petite little pixie 
with a snip nose. He sat down be- 
side her. "I'm sorry," he said. ''Tell 
me please what it was you wanted." 

"I really did want to talk to you," 
she said. "We've been married for 
almost three months. Don't you 
think it's time that we sat down and 
had an — an interview?" 

"A what?" Jason's voice went up 
to a peak. 

"An interview. You know — like 
employers and employees do when 
they've been together for a certain 
period of time." 

He blinked and made as if to 
speak but uttered no sound. 

"There's nothing queer about 
that," she explained. "I read all 
about it right here in this maga- 
zine. 'How to Make Your Marriage 
Work,' by Dr. Snodgras." She was 
very matter of fact. 

"Isn't our marriage working?" he 

"Of course it is, silly, but Dr. 
Snodgras says this is supposed to be 
our adjustment period. He says that 
both of us do lots of little things 
that irritate each other, and we 
should talk it out and then it won't 
irritate us anv more." 

"Oh, I see," he said indulgently. 
"Seems as if I read something like 
that in a book once." 

"You did?" Her enthusiasm rose. 
"Then you'll understand all about 
it. Tell me what you remember." 

"Let me see." He wrinkled his 

brow. "I believe it said there are 
many adjustments to make in mar- 
riage — and — oh, yes. I remem- 
ber now. It said the wives are the 
ones to do the adjusting. Wives 
are usualy younger than husbands, 
and sometimes smaller, and natural- 
ly more pliable. A husband can't 
change. He is big and burly and 
set up like hard clay by the time he 
gets married. I think that's what 
the book said." 

"You must have read the wrong 
book. I guess the interview idea is 
not so good after all." 

"Quite the contrary. I think it's 
a fine idea. When do we begin?" 

"Are you sure you're interested?" 
she asked. 

"Of course." 

"Well . . ." she said reluctantly. 
"I have made a few notes." 

"On how to conduct an inter- 

She blushed. "No. On things that 
I should point out to you." 

"I see. You mean notes on the 
things I do that irritate you." He 
pretended to be wounded. 

"Honey," she said apologetically, 
"there's almost nothing wrong with 
you. Remember, we aren't discuss 
ing big things — like money. I 
won't even mention the time Jan 
asked me to go shopping with her 
and you gave me five dollars and 
told me not to go hog wild on it 
and Jan said, 'That's ridiculous. No 
one can go hog wild with only five 
dollars.' Dr. Snodgras says big 
things seldom undermine a marriage, 
because people always correct them. 
It's the little things that do it, like 
tapping a pencil against your teeth 
all the time when you're trying to 
think. Little things can be terribly 
distracting you know." 

"I see. And we must be broad- 
minded and understanding and 


MAY 1964 

practical about the whole discus- 


'That's exactly what Dr. Snod- 
gras said. Jason, you're wonderful. 
This is going to be great. Here is 
a pad and pencil for you. As I go 
over the pointers I have here, fhings 
will come to your mind to jot down 
about me. Feel free to interrupt 
anytime. You may want to justify 
yourself you know." 

'I'm anxious for you to begin." 

"You promise me you won't be 
hurt?" she asked anxiously. 

''Not at all. I shall remind my- 
self that it is all in the interest of 
family solidarity." He flashed her a 

"You almost disarm me when you 
smile at me like that. I am trying 
to be ver}^ objective. Now, first on 
my list I have — honestly, Jason, 
I'm not so sure I like this idea." 

"It's great! I insist that you pro- 
ceed. I can hardly wait my turn," 
he said heartily. 

"Really? Well then I shall begin. 
Let me see. . . ." She studied her 
notes. "First of all — your shoes. 
It always bothers me where you take 
them off at nights, because in the 
dark I stumble over them. And 
speaking of stumbling in the dark 
— I wouldn't have to do it if I 
could just wake you. Like the other 
night. There were some cats yowl- 
ing by our window. I couldn't 
wake you, so I had to scare them 
away myself. Jason, do you think 
you could sleep just a little lighter?" 

"I shall try," he said obediently 
"But, really, Salley, you should turn 
on your lamp if you're going to 
prowl in the night." 

"I'm afraid I might wake you if 
I turn on my light." 

"That's what I love about you, 
my dear." He grinned. "You are 
so consistent." 

"About your eating habits," she 
continued. "I really don't mind if 
you want your toast so brown I 
almost have to burn it, or your egg 
so raw that I have to look the other 
way while you eat it, and that you 
sugar your tomatoes and salt your 
melons. I guess I can get used to 
that, but it did bother me when 
you said my angel cake was like 
trying to eat fog and you scrunched 
a piece of it into a little wad be- 
cause you said a man needed some- 
thing to sink his teeth in." 

Jason had been speedily jotting 
down notes. He looked up. 

"I apologized about your cake, 
dear. Yours is the lightest in the 
world. I shouldn't have teased 

"I forgive you. But couldn't you 
try not to be so hungry when you 
come home and I don't have dinner 
ready? And couldn't you come 
home promptly on the days I do 
have it ready instead of keeping me 

He was taking notes again. 

"You are writing an awfully lot. 
Can you listen and write too?" 

"I haven't missed a word. Finish 
your list. I'm getting anxious for 
my turn." 

She was losing interest in her own 
list, his looked so ominous. But she 
must finish what she had started. 
"I have a note here to remind you 
not to squeeze the toothpaste tube 
in the middle, and for you to please 
not hang your soiled shirts back in 
your closet, and when you wipe 
dishes, would you please put the 
forks in with the forks and not with 
the spoons — sorry. I meant to 
cross that one out. It's nice of you 
to wipe the dishes. And couldn't 
you change your attitude about 
women drivers? Every time you see 
a car parked wrong you say some 



woman did it. Well, I watched the 
other day to see who drove off 
in the car that straddled two parking 
spaces in the market parking lot. It 
was a fat man." 

Jason had filled the second page 
on his pad. Salley stopped and 
looked at him. "I don't believe I 
had better finish my list now/' she 
said, ''it would be nice for you to 
have a turn." 

He sat thoughtfully studying his 

"Will you please go ahead?" she 
said. She glanced at the magazine 
lying on the stand. In bold red let- 
ters on its shiny cover the title of 
the feature article by Dr. Snodgras 
glared at her. Actually, she had 
been riding on a pink cloud ever 
since she had married Jason. She 
had been wonderfully happy, until 
something she read in that article 
punctured a few holes in her cloud. 

Jason looked up from his list. 

Now he was going to deliver the 
load. She felt miserable. She 
wished she had torn up her list. 
There really wasn't one item of im- 
portance upon it. Tlie number one 
item on his list would be that she 
talked too much. He regarded her 
silently. "Go on, Jason, please," she 
said in a small voice. 

She arose. As she did so she 
brushed against the magazine and it 
fell to the floor. Jason came over 
to her and put a big firm hand on 
each of her shoulders. He regarded 
her tenderly. 

"I have been writing a list of all 
of the things I adore about you," 
he said. "Honey, I wouldn't change 
a hair of your head. You are per- 
fect just as you are." 

Frustrated and repentant, she 
ground her heel into the magazine 
on the floor. She buried her face 
against him to hide the hot tears. 
With a merry chuckle he kissed her. 

My Neighbor 

Evelyn Fjeldsted 

I miss my friendly neighbor — 

The little children, too, 

I miss her kindly interest 

And all the things we used to do. 

It is good to have a neighbor. 

Who calls in frequently, 

Who comes in time of trouble, 

And stands by willingly. 

Could I but choose my neighbors 

And keep them ever near, 

I would send for you this evening. 

Because we miss you here. 


Don Kninht 

Valley Sky... at Sunrise 

Pearle M. Olsen 

How loosely combed are tendrilled waves of wool 
Which hang ice-white in the blue of western sky. 
In quivering forms they float, then play and pull - 
And gently scatter as the creeping dye 
From eastern sun intensifies the full 
Warm tints of pink on spreading, climbing high 
Fleeced curls. Then suddenly the colorful 
Clear spectrum hues come rushing and defy 
The usual chroma, as the tumbling wool 
Becomes a flaming heaven color cry! 


Do you have time on your hands? 
Are you feeling discouraged by 
the monotony of doing the same 
routine things every day? Are you 
a young homemaker with energy 
to spare? Have you been retired 
from your job or position, and do 
you feel that your life is ended, 
and any creative ability you ever 
had is dying within you? Have 
your children grown up and es- 
tablished homes of their own? If 
your answer is yes to any one of 
these questions, then you need 
a challenging, exciting hobby that 
will last a lifetime. May I suggest 
that the study of art appreciation 
and painting may be one answer 
to your problem. Now don't say 
no until you have thought about 
the possibilities. 

A Good Beginning 

Let's begin simply by seeing 
the beauty around us — perhaps 
as an artist would see it. Look 
at the changing patterns of the 
clouds, the soft tints or flaming 
glow of a sunset on them; feel 
the softening rays of the moon; 
behold the majesty of snow- 
covered mountains; see the long 
shadows and hear the whisper- 
ing leaves in the depths of the 
woods; become aware of the mo- 
tion of a field of golden grain as 
the wind sweeps over it in waves. 

as a Hobby 

Myrtle E. Henderson, M.A. 

Former Head, Speech 

Department, Dixie College 

If we see things in this way, we 
are using as many of our five 
senses as possible, and, like the 
artist, we will see more beauty 
than we had dreamed there was 
around us. 

The Art of Appreciation 

Another helpful and enlighten- 
ing step in our adventure into 
art is to learn to understand and 
appreciate paintings. Find out 
what has gone into them, what 
are their values, and what makes 
them good or poor. Let's see what 
an artist has said about pictures. 
One critic suggests that pictures 
make their appeal to individuals 
through their beauty of line, the 
quality of their color, or through 
the interest in their patterns. We 
can learn to appreciate line, 
color, and pattern for their own 
sake, and then a picture does not 
need to tell a story. Art appeals 
to the sight as well as to the 
imagination. Paintings may be 
an interpretation rather than a 
photographic representation of 
the subject. Leave the exact de- 
tails to the camera. 

Design in Paintings 

My art teacher said often that 
pictures should not be "too 
busy," meaning there should not 
be too many points of interest or 


MAY 1964 

too many objects. Look for sim- 
plicity of design. There should be 
a focal point — a way to get 
"into" a picture. For example, in 
a landscape, let the eye follow 
down a road, or a stream, or the 
sun path on a lake, or, maybe, 
down a street or a path in the 
woods. Beautiful shape and color 
can claim artistic value, but they 
should not be spoiled by being 
too ornate. Overdecoration in 
anything reflects lack of taste 
and discrimination — in a home 
as well as in pictures. 

Rhythm and Movement 

In evaluating a painting, an 
artist will be aware of the quali- 
ties of rhythm and movement in 
the picture and will feel the tex- 
ture of different objects. Now 
perhaps you are thinking, "Tex- 
ture and movement, and color 
and shadow I can understand, 
but what about rhythm? Artists 
tell us that rhythm is the quality 
of flowing lines, of lovely curves 
and shapes that answer and com- 
plement each other. The changing 
shape of clouds makes a kind of 
rhythm, flowers have different 
rhythms, as the daisy has a cir- 
cular rhythm, the blades of grass 
growing together have an up- 
reaching rhythm. So, in drawing 
flowers, the leaves and main line 
of growth must repeat each other 
in pattern, and the pattern should 
be accentuated in the drawing. 

Arrangement of Objects 

When an artist looks at a 
painting or a landscape to paint, 
he is attracted not only by ob- 
jects, but by the arrangement 
of what he sees. Objects are 
grouped together to form a par- 
ticular landscape, as trees, fields. 

and rocks. He sees also an ar- 
rangement of qualities in color 
and line. He sees objects in re- 
lation to their background and 
surroundings. He sees the green 
of the trees in relation to the 
green or blue or purple of the dis- 
tant hills. He sees the vertical 
lines of the trunks of the trees 
in relation to the horizontal lines 
of the lake shore or the horizon. 
All this beauty reaches out to 
him, and he feels it and wants 
to express it on his canvas. 

Painting Is a Natural Impulse 

Perhaps, if we learn to see 
things as the artist sees them, 
and to understand art, we, too, 
may have the urge to paint what 
we see. Do I hear you say, "Oh, 
I could never paint a picture!" 
How do you know? Have you 
ever tried? One of the greatest 
teachers of drawing in America, 
said that the impulse to draw is 
as natural as the impulse to talk. 
We learn to talk by simple words 
and sounds at first, and by much 
repetition, and we can learn to 
draw and paint in the same way. 
True, few of us may become great 
artists, but just beginning to 
paint can be a rewarding ex- 
perience, and a world of pleasure 
can be derived from it. Don't 
worry if, for the first few months, 
your drawing doesn't resemble 
anything called art. It has been 
said that the sooner you make 
your first five thousand mistakes, 
the sooner you can correct them. 

I know a woman who did not 
even try to paint until she was 
forty years of age. Her mother's 
poor health made it necessary for 
her to give up her office work 
and stay home to take care of 
her. She needed something to 



take up her spare time. At the 
suggestion of her neighbor, who 
was a good amateur artist, she 
tried painting. She had no train- 
ing in art, but now, after five 
years, she does some beautiful 
work, and is hoping to make a 
business of it. People bring her 
colored snapshots of scenes they 
have photographed on their vaca- 
tions, or pictures from other 
sources, and she reproduces them 
in oils. She takes orders for paint- 
ings in certain shades and col- 
ors to blend into the colors of 
the room for which they are in- 
tended. One of the greatest joys 
this woman has, since her mother 
has passed away, is to take her 
paints and go out into the hills 
and paint from nature. 

You say you are too old to 
learn to paint? Haven't you heard 
of Grandma Moses, who began 
to paint when she was nearly 
eighty? Grandma Moses started 
working pictures in worsted. 
After she was afflicted with ar- 
thritis in her hands, it was difficult 
for her to hold the needle. Her 
sister suggested that she try 
painting, since it might be easier 
to hold the brushes. So she began 
to paint. She thought painting 
was a very pleasant hobby, if one 
did not have to hurry. In her 
autobiography, she tells how she 
began to paint a picture. She se- 
cured the frame, then sawed 
masonite board to fit the frame. 

Then she went over the board 
with linseed oil, and then with 
three coats of flat paint. She 
used masonite because it would 
last longer than canvas. 


How to get materials may be 
a problem to you. Let me suggest 
that there are many excellent 
water color sets that are inex- 
pensive. A box of eight colors and 
one brush can be purchased for 
one dollar, or a box of sixteen 
colors and one brush, for two 
dollars. The same colors come in 
tubes in boxes containing dif- 
ferent numbers of tubes and two 
brushes. These are very good 
colors, but are a little more ex- 
pensive. Drawing pads will need 
to be purchased with the paints. 
Oil paints can be purchased in 
tubes separately or in complete 
kits. With the oil painting one 
will need oil cups, spatula, pal- 
lette, and, at least three different 
sizes of brushes. The canvas may 
be obtained in a roll or on boards. 

We may never paint master- 
pieces, but we can enter the mar- 
velous creative world of form and 
rhythm, pattern, and texture and 
color. We can reach out and select 
and use and retain, against time, 
the evanescent beauty in the 
landscape of our days. We can 
enlarge our vision and our ap- 
preciation of the magnificent uni- 

Today is here. It is new, it is NOW. Forget yesterday, which is gone. Use 
Today as best you can. You are sure of it, and nothing more. Begin here and now. 

— Zara Sabin 



and Beanie 

Shirley Thulin 

Margaret looked out at the day. 
It was a good day, the sun was 
noon high and the blue sky 
nestled a few puffy clouds. It was 
as good a time as any to teU 
Gramps about the place they had 
found for him. When she had 
tried to tell him last week it was 
raining. The night was fretful and 
she hadn't been able to say the 

Dear Gramps, she thought. 
He's so special. And as always 
when she thought of her grand- 
father, he became more than a 
beloved relative, he somehow was 
tangled with other memories of 
the past. Things like corn-cob 
dolls that he so often carved for 
her, and long slow walks while he 
turned the irrigation water into 
their ditch, and stories . . . the 
wonderful stories. But she had 

finally decided Jim was right. 
Gramps was getting to be a hand- 
ful. It wasn't so bad when Grand- 
mother was still with them. She 
could manage him, but, lately, 
he had become childish, and so 
much work and worry. And 
now with the new baby on the 
way .... 

Margaret pulled the last dish 
from the pan of hot rinse water 
and put it in the drainer. Then 
she wiped her hands on her apron 
and reached behind to untie the 
bow. As she went out the front 
door to find Gramps, she heard 
Michael giggle. Michael will miss 
him so, she thought, I wish Jim 
hadn't .... 

"Hi, you two, what's going on?" 
"Hi, Mommy, come play froggy 
with us. Gramps plays froggy 



Margaret quickly looked about 
her. The houses on the street 
were close together, and neigh- 
bors were not always understand- 
ing. She started to scold, the 
words were high in her throat, 
but she knew if she began with a 
reprimand, she wouldn't be able 
to tell him. 

"Michael." she said, "Go in 
and get ready for your nap. I'll 
be in in a minute." 

"I don't want a nap. Mom. We 
aren't through playing." 

"You look a little pale, dear. 
Do you feel all right?" 

"Feel fine. Mom." 

"You go take your nap. Beanie. 
Your mother wants to talk to me. 
We'll play after," Gramps said. 

"Oh, Gramps . . . ." Margaret 
waited until Michael was gone 
and then the words began to 
tumble out, all in the wrong di- 
rection. "We love you, we really 
do, but " 

"I know, honey, I know." 

"No, you don't .... I mean, 
you really don't understand." 

"I know an old fellow like me 
. . . ." His voice trailed off, and 
his eyes squinted as he looked 
towards the mountains. "We all 
got to be put out to pasture some 
time or other." 

"It isn't like that . . . ." but 
Margaret couldn't tell him what 
it was. She couldn't even tell her- 
self. She knew it was a combina- 
tion of the way he played so 
childishly with Michael, the way 
he refused to eat what she fixed, 
spurning other nourishing food for 
bread and milk, and he was such 
a worry. Always going for walks 
and coming home when he felt 
like it ... . And if he only 
wouldn't call Mike Beanie .... 

You found a place?" Gramps 
didn't look at her. 

"Yes, we found a place. It's 
. . . ." She was going to tell him 
it was a nice place. And it really 
was, but she knew what many 
elderly persons thought of rest 

"Is it very far away?" Gramps 
looked at her then, and, sudden- 
ly, he seemed awfully tired. His 
eyes were searching hers. 

"No. Not really very far . . . ." 

"When?" Just one word, but 
it had been spoken as though it 
took all the strength he had left. 

"Not for awhile," and as she 
told him this, she was ashamed 
of her lack of courage. Why 
hadn't she told him his room 
would be ready Monday? Mon- 
day . . . just four days away. 

"Does Beanie know?" 


"Then let me tell him," and 
Gramps turned slowly and went 
down the walk. Margaret didn't 
call after him to remind him to 
be back soon . . . she was too 
much aware of the sudden slump 
of his shoulders. Besides, she 
knew it wouldn't do any good, 
it never had. 

That night when Jim came 
home it was a relief to be able 
to tell him that she had talked 
to Gramps. But she didn't men- 
tion that she hadn't told him 
what day. 

"How did he take it?" 

"Well, he was quiet. He seemed 
to guess what I was going to say 
before I began." 

"He's probably heard us talk- 
ing .. . ." 

"He'll miss Mike." 

"They're good to the old people 
in those places." 


MAY 1964 

''But Gramps isn't just old 
people. He . . . he's Gramps. He's 
more of a family man .... Gram 
hasn't been gone long. Most of 
those old men haven't had any- 
one for a long time before they 

"Now, honey, ^ou said you 
wouldn't fret anymore." Jim took 
her in his arms and put his cheek 
on hers. "He'll be happy, in fact, 
he'll be happier, he won't have 
you to nag him." and Jim 
laughed, but Margaret didn't. 
She could still see the longing 
and the searching in the old man's 

"Besides," Jim was pacing the 
kitchen, "the doctor told you to 
take it a bit easy this time . . . ." 

"I know . . . we've been over 
all this . . . ." 

When the supper table was set 
Margaret was suddenly aware 
that Michael was still asleep. 

"That's funny," she told Jim. 
"He doesn't usually sleep this 

"Worn out, I guess. Is Gramps 
back yet?" 

Margaret sighed. "No, and I 
don't suppose he will be for 
awhile. You sit down, I'll go 
wake Mike. What time does your 
train leave?" 

"Eight-twenty. Will you bring 
me my shoe horn? I think it's on 
Mike's dresser. I don't want to 
forget it again. Those hotels just 
don't furnish shoe horns." 

Margaret laughed. It was no 
secret that her husband wasn't 
overly fond of hotels. He didn't 
like to leave his home, not even 
when it meant extra money. 

For a moment Margaret stood 
looking at Michael, then she sat 
on the edge of his bed and put 
her hand on his forehead. "Mike. 

Honey. Wake up, it's supper- 

The child stirred and said, "All 
right," but he didn't open his 
ceyes. Margaret frowned and felt 
-his head again. It was hot and 
dry. "Jim, bring me the ther- 
mometer. I think Mike has a 

Mike did have a fever, but it 
was slight. 

"Do you think I should stay 
home?" Jim asked. 

"Oh, I don't think so. If it 
weren't so important for you to 
be there, I'd say yes, but I think 
he'll be all right." 

"I could stay tonight and fly 
out in the morning." 

"Too expensive. I think it's 
just his tonsils again. I'll take 
him to the doctor in the mom- 

At train time Gramps wasn't 
back. It was the first time she 
hadn't taken Jim to the station, 
but she couldn't take Mike and 
she couldn't leave him alone. 
Somehow, saying goodbye to Jim 
on the front step left her in a 
turmoil. As the cab pulled away 
from the curb she thought she 
saw Gramps coming up the street, 
but before the figure got to their 
corner, it crossed over, so she 
went inside. 

The house was so silent Mar- 
garet felt a sudden weight about 
her. She didn't like the quiet. 
Michael cried once and she went 
in to him, but he was asleep 
when she got there. She felt his 
head again, and he was hotter. 
The aspirin had not checked his 

"Oh, if only Gramps were 
here." Margaret felt surprised to 



be wishing for him. She went to 
get the thermometer and as she 
did, she remembered when 
Gramps had broken their former 
thermometer. He's clumsy, she 
thought, almost like a child. 

The little silver thread had 
pushed its way toward the 103° 
mark. It frightened Margaret, for 
though Mike had had fevers be- 
fore, he had never had one this 
high. She went to the phone and 
dialed Doctor Jeff's number. It 
seemed a long time before the 
answering service told her that 
the doctor was out of town. 
"Would you like me to call some- 
one else?" 

Margaret didn't know any 
other doctor. "No. No, I think it 
will be all right." Margaret was 
suddenly aware that the front 
door had opened and closed. 

"Gramps. Is that you?" 


"Would you come here, please? 
Mike's sick and I'm shaky." 

"Sick? What's wrong?" 

"Oh, I think it's his tonsils 
again, but his fever's high." 

"Well, call the doctor." 

"For goodness sakes, I did." 
Margaret was aware that the 
tone of her words was sharp. 
They were often lately. Gramps 
could be so exasperating some- 
times. "Will you get me some 

"He seemed all right this morn- 
ing .... Where's Jim?" 

"*Gone to Denver. You knew 

"Oh, yes. I forgot. Too bad 
you didn't know Beanie was sick 
before he went." 

"We did know." 

"You knew? How come he 

"Because he had to. Here, will 
you please help me lift Mike up?" 

"Mike .... son. Do you want 
a drink of water?" 

"I never left town when one of 
my children was sick." 

"Oh, Gramps. Times are dif- 
ferent now. He can get back in 
a couple of hours if I need him. 
Mike, honey, here's a drink of 

"Gramps, hold me up." Mike's 
voice was heavy. 

"Do you hurt any place, dear?" 
Margaret asked him. 

"My throat." 

"See? His tonsils." Margaret 
sounded almost triumphant in 
her diagnosis. 

"I fear he's got the virus 
throat. The boy down the street 
had it. It's real bad. Doc worked 
with him for days." 

"It's only his tonsils .... Why 
don't you go xin and get ready? 
Your dinner is in the oven." 

"I'll just have a bowl of bread 
and milk in a minute." 

Margaret went to her room 
when Mike had settled again. 
She had to write Bob and Helen, 
who, she knew, would be upset 
with her for putting Gramps in 
a home. But it was easy for them 
to talk. They had large families 
and had never had room for him 
for more than a week at a time. 
They didn't know how childish 
he had become and seemed to be 
oblivious to the amount of care 
he needed. Margaret had put off 
writing them as long as she 
dared, but she must get at it to- 
night. She had planned very care- 
fully the wording of the letter. 
She would tell them that for his 
own safety he should be where 
he had constant watchcare. He 


MAY 1964 

also should have a better diet, 
and he refused to eat for her. She 
would have to be sure to tell them 
how he went for long walks and 
worried her so. And, oh, yes, how 
lonesome he seemed to be. She 
felt sure they would want him to 
be where there were friends his 
own age. 

Margaret had just finished 
Helen's letter when she heard a 
strange muffled sound coming 
from Mike's room. She was sur- 
prised to see Gramp still there, 
sitting on a chair in the dimness. 

"Was Mike crying?" 


"I thought I heard something." 

"When's the doctor going to 
get here? His head's awful hot." 

"Doctor Jeff's out of town 

"Out of town? But you said 
you'd called a doctor." 

"I did, but .... Do you think 
I'd better call someone else?" 

"He's sick, Marg. It's not his 
tonsils." Gramps had an air of 
authority about him now, as he 
had when he was the head of a 
household. "You get a doctor 
right away. I've sat with children 
a lot, and I know when they're 

Margaret looked at the old man, 
and there was no mistake about 
the trace of wetness on his 
wrinkled cheek. She sat on the 
edge of the bed near him and the 
tightness in her throat was like 
a wet sponge that kept swelling. 

"Marg ... I'm sorry I can't 
remember not to call him Beanie. 
He looks so much like your 

"Oh, Gramps . . . ." 

"And just now . . . Mike looks 
so little and sick, just like my 

children when they had the 
measles. We nearly lost your Dad 
that time. Oh, the nights Mother 
and I sat up with those young- 
sters . . . ." 

Margaret looked • at the old 
man. It was as though she were 
seeing him for the first time. He 
had a fine profile, and though 
his skin had been browned from 
the sun and his brow was 
wrinkled, there was a kindness 
to his looks. A kindness and 
devotion that Margaret well re- 
membered from her early child- 
hood. She had heard time and 
again her father tell how his 
parents had uncomplainingly 
cared for the four of them. Gram 
and Gramps had nursed them 
through sicknesses, worried about 
them night after night when they 
stayed out late. She gave Gramps 
a big hug. 

"Gramps. I will call a doctor 
now. And also the home." 

"The home?" 

"Yes. To tell them they are 
losing their star boarder." 

"Now, Marg, you and Jim 
don't want an old nuisance . . . ." 

"Oh, yes we do . . . you're the 
most wonderful old nuisance I 
know. Jim never would have 
thought of taking you away if 
it hadn't been for my complain- 

"But you've had good reason 
to complain." 

"Now, Gramps, it's all settled." 

"Gramps." Mike opened his 
eyes. "Don't go away." 

"See, he needs you and so will 
the new baby. Nobody can play 
froggy Hke you." Marg left the 
room then. She made the phone 
calls, tore up her letter, then she 
went into the kitchen to fix two 
big bowls of bread and milk. 



^MB A 


m \j.-7^ 

Kamona W. (Jannon ^^H 

Mrs. Carleen Maley Hutchins, 
fifty-two, a motherly housewife 
from Montclair, New Jersey, is 
also an accoustical scientist who 
is astonishing the musical world 
with the stringed instruments 
she designs, bu'lds, and tests 
electronically in her own home. 
Strings have remained unchanged 
for practically two hundred 
years, but for modern musical 
compositions, their tonal range 
is inadequate. She has overcome 
this difficulty in the family of 
instruments she has created, 
ranging from a huge bass to a 
smaller than normal violin. Top 
musicians eagerly seek to pur- 
chase her handiwork. 

Mrs. Jayne Baker Spain, presi- 
dent and owner of the Alvey- 
Ferguson Company, in Cincin- 
nati, Ohio, manufacturers of 
conveying equipment for indus- 
try, employs blind workers to 
assemble conveyers. In Salonica, 
Greece, she was asked to prepare 
an exhibit for the annual Inter- 
national Trade Fair there. This 
she did, but since all workers 
were expected to be Greek, she 
taught six Greek boys and girls 
who were blind how to assemble 
a wheel conveyer moving mate- 
rials around factories and ware- 
houses. They fitted together 451 
small parts, threading fifty axles 
through one hundred and twenty 

skate wheels, applying dozens of 
bolts and tightening them to an 
exact degree of tension. Visitors 
to the fair found this sight in- 
credible. The human achieve- 
ment was far greater than the 

Mrs. Mary Loveless of Cornell 
University Medical College, New 
York, has been working for seven- 
teen years on immunizing pa- 
tients allergic to the stings of 
various kinds of bees. She cap- 
tures bees, then, with a delicate 
operation, removes the venom sac 
for the innoculating agent. Hav- 
ing done this more than thirty 
thousand times, she can now do 
a bee a minute. Bee stings are 
very harmful to many people, in 
certain instances even causing 

The third annual Shakespear- 
ean Festivel on the College of 
Southern Utah campus (Cedar 
City, Utah) which will be pre- 
sented July 9 through 25, will in- 
clude "Twelfth Night," "Mac- 
beth," and "Midsummer Night's 
Dream," in rotation. Last year 
Festival goers were counted from 
thirty-eight States and a dozen 
foreign countries. Mrs. Lee 
Thompson assists in the costume 
department, and Kahiki Long, a 
student from California, will han- 
dle lighting, as she has since the 
inception of the Festival in 1962. 



Volume 51 May 1964 Number 5 

e S. Spafford, President 
rianne C. Sharp, First Counselor 
jise W. Madsen, Second Counselor 
Ida Parker, Secretary-Treasurer 

Th& Ligh-tGtJ ^A/SndlcB%^ 

The beloved words and symbols which apply to mothers and 
characterize their devotion are long remembered, and their comfort 
and inspiration have become an aura of light that leans across the 
years. They are like the guidance and the glory of a lighted window. 

A woman now in her busy and responsible middle years remembers 
that her mother was orderly, and by that rule of heaven, she arranged 
her own life to the best of her ability and gave her children the feeling 
that order prevailed where willing hands and noble spirits controlled 
the enlarging world around them. Before this mother opened her door 
and entered her morning kitchen, she dressed her hair beautifully, 
piled it high in a golden crown. She tied a clean starched apron around 
her waist, wore, also, a smile of courage as personal adornment. Then, 
whatever trials the day might bring could be met with a greater degree 
of order and serenity, because the beginning was good. In this family 
a sense of order and direction pervaded all of the homes of that 

A young mother, faced with a small income and many expenses, 
in her home on a small acreage at the edge of a city, patterned after 
the mother strength consistent in her family. Beginning with the pioneer 
grandmother, they were provident women. The grandmother cared for 
long rows of green garden vegetables, she carried baskets of yellow 
peaches from her orchard; she raised bees and separated the golden 
honey and the wax and sold the products in the town markets. She 
was like the Biblical woman who was praised within the gates, for her 
family, down through the generations, were provident mothers who 
gave an abiding security to their loved ones. 

A Relief Society work meeting counselor remembers her dear 
mother as a needle and thread woman, her fingers moving quickly 
in and out of a patchwork quilt, or deftly stitching lace to white organ- 


Anna B. Hart 
Edith S. Elliott 
Florence J. Madsen 
Leone G. Layton 
Blanche B. Stoddard 
Evon W. Peterson 
Aleine M. Young 
Josie B. Bay 
Alberta H. Christensen 
Mildred B. Eyring 
Charlotte A. Larsen 
Edith P. Backman 
Winniefred S. Manwaring 
EIna P. Haymond 

lary R. Young 
Mary V. Cameron 
Afton W. Hunt 
Wealtha S. Mendenhal 
Pearle M. Olsen 
Elsa T. Peterson 
Fanny S. Kienitz 
Elizabeth B. Winters 
LaRue H. Rosell 
Jennie R. Scott 
Alice L. Wilkinson 
LaPriel S. Bunker 
Irene W. Buehner 
Irene C. Lloyd 

Faze! b. cannon 
Hazel S. Love 
Fawn H. Sharp 
Celestia J. Taylor 
Anne R. Gledhill 
Belva Barlow 
Zola J. McGhie 
Oa J. Cannon 
Lila B. Walch 
Lenore C. Gundersen 
Marjorie C. Pingree 
Darlene C. Dedekind 
Cleone R. Eccles 

dy pinafores to adorn her daughters — or the mother's hands guiding 
a piece of yellow flowered print under the needle of a sewing machine. 
This long-remembered mother was weaving beauty with her fingers 
and stitching the blessed feeling of love and security into the spiritual 
apparel of her children. 

Each time a stake chorister directs the Singing Mothers, in the 
background of her attitude and her love for music, is the memory of 
her mother, and the tall and elegant organ that graced the family 
parlor. On winter evenings and in the summer twilight the mother 
played hymns and sang the lyrics . . . "where the pure breezes blow 
and the clear streamlets flow . . ."; "fit home for the people of God 
. . ."; "behold 'tis eventide. . . ." And when that mother died the 
ornate minarets of the organ were removed, and the organ was taken 
and carefully set up in the Relief Society room in that small mountain- 
rimmed town. All music is a heritage to a chorister daughter in another 
place and in another land — and the memory of mother is associated 
with the word music, and is a singing forever 

Five daughters, who have now become mothers and grandmothers 
and preside in homes where the motif is light, remember a lighted 
window in an adobe ranch house In the lonely hills. The light in the 
window was a kerosene lamp, with a trimmed wick and a polished 
chimney. It was a symbol that a mother — a true homemaker — lived 
and reflected an abundance of light that drew her family at eventide 
to their home, where all the ways and all the words were shining and 
uplifting. And now that those daughters have gone their separate ways, 
they are bound together and are distinguished and marked as a family 
by the influence of a mother who stood at a lighted window. 

Each woman in this time of change and uncertainty, may be guided 
by the enduring heritage of mothering, and each may stand at a lighted 
window. — V. P. C. 


lae cir j o%^ 


Caroline Eyring Miner 

I had been long away — too long, too far — 

I ran the half mile up the crooked lane, 

My eyes half-closed, fearing a change might mar 

The memories of dear things that I feign 

Would keep the same. Why was I different now? 

I needed to come home again to find 

Things as they once had been; for long, somehow, 

I had been shaken loose from all the kind. 

Familiar moorings of my early years — 

Cut loose and tempest tossed. And now, at last, 

I lifted slowly, eyes filling with tears, 

To see and hear and feel and know the past 

Again in its eternal changelessness — 

Like sun upon my back, new happiness. 

For not a thing was really changed at all — 

The chinaberry trees were in full bloom 

With heady perfume that I could recall 

Had filled my childhood dreams. I could assume 

That, talking quietly, my parents sat 

On the porch swing that swayed and creaked today 

As on those summer afternoons when at 

My play I came for consolation. Say 

These shadowed pencilings are of a sun 

Long set, the breeze rippling the southeast pond 

Day-new, and gold and scarlet sunset done 

Flamboyantly against that peak, a fond 

Remembrance. We who have changed so much come 

Seeking the strength, the changelessness of home. 


JAmt^^ijCom Motfee/t4- 

What Is a Mother? 

Margaret Richards 

V\^HAT is she . . . mother? Girl, woman, wife, and a mother? Mother- 
hood — the culmination of all the years of growing up! The fulfill- 
ment of her dreams and hopes and plans! 

Just what is she . . . this mother? Well, it's certain that according 
to today's wage scale she is worth her weight in gold. Housekeeper, 
cleaning woman, laundress, seamstress, cook, nutrition expert, chauf- 
feur, nurse, wise shopper, bargain hunter, business manager, and ex- 
ecutive vice-president of one of the busiest and most demanding insti- 
tutions in her country — the home! 

Is this all she does? Oh, no! This is merely the busy- work that 
occupies her hands while her mind and heart anfl soul are intent upon 
a higher calling. Motherhood — a sharing in creation! A sharing in 
nurturing — a sharing in exaltation, as she sows the seeds in her chil- 
dren's souls that will, in large measure, determine their harvest in 
adulthood — and in eternity! Teacher, counselor, advisor, example 
— is there any greater influence for good or evil in human life? Oh, 
Mother, what a grave responsibility is yours, and what infinite oppor- 

Security, affection, a deep and unselfish love — these are your 
first special gifts to your little one that no one else can give quite so 
well as you. And what about the unnumbered things you teach that 
no one else can teach quite so well as you? It is from you a child 
learns love — love of God, love of the gospel, love of family and 
friends. It is at your knee a child learns prayer. It is your example 
that teaches thoughtfulness, courtesy, honesty, respect for authority, 
obedience to law and to the laws of God. 

Yes, Mother, God himself has given you a calling, in importance 
second to none. May he, likewise, bless you with the strength and 
courage, with the wisdom and love, to enable you to fill in fullest 
measure your sacred calling here and now, and to secure your place as 
a priestess queen beside your husband for eternity. 




of the 


Hazel Sowards Cannon 

Member, General Board 

of Relief Society ~ - 

IVI OTHER'S life epitomized the spirit of the pioneer, although for many years 
that last frontier had been settled. There had still been fascinating new trails 
to blaze with each of her children, and life in the little valley, nestling in its 
circle of picturesque hills, had been a constant challenge. Her heart yearned for 
the beautiful, the genteel, and that which was right and good. 

Sharing her substance was part of living. She traveled many miles to and 
from the peaceful valley in its circle of lovely hills to bring enjoyment to her 
family and friends. Many came to her door. Friend and stranger alike sur- 
rounded her table, partook of its goodness, and departed warmed and heartened. 
She was fulfillment of the promise ". . . . and thou shalt be like a watered 
garden, and like a spring of water whose waters fail not" (Isaiah 58:11). 

She pointed with pride to God's handiwork. Rocks, artistic and delicately 
colored, interestingly grotesque and hued with the rainbow, satiny smooth or 
rough textured — she loved them all. The silver-green sagebrush of the desert, 
the sweet-scented pines of the mountains, the urn-shaped buds of her favorite 
roses were her delight. She subdued the red clay and reveled in her spring- 
time flowers as they came forth in defiance of the icy fingers of winter. 

"Anything worth doing at all is worth doing well," she said, and somehow 
found through infinite patience and an innate sensitivity, the right way to 
perform each homey task. Her jars of home-canned fruit, iridescent jewels 
imprisoned in glass, were a work of art; her freshly laundered clothes rivaled 
the ermine snows in whiteness; and bright palettes of artistically arranged raw 
vegetables were found on her table long before it was fashionable. 

It did not take "things" to make her happy. She loved quality but hated 
ostentation and pretense. Her joys were the simple things — her family secure 
and snug in a warm house during the storm, a night's repose in an im- 
maculately clean and comfortable bed, her carefully nurtured shade trees lacing 
a sapphire sky, the full wheaty flavor of homemade bread, the smile on the 
tear-stained face of a grandchild. 

Mother was a valiant pioneer. Her life exemplified that each age needs 
women who explore and perfect when it is easier merely to accept; who endure 
with faith and tenacity when to yield is a worldly pattern; who discover 
happiness in toil when perishable rewards beckon unceasingly; who chart the 
course for others to follow. 


Thanks, Mom - for Everything 

Sara O. Moss 

Big Jim looked at his sleeping wife, with little Jim's chubby hand 
on her cheek. Lucky kid, little Jim, to have a mother like Millie 
and a grandmother like Mom. 

Big Jim sat down in the chintz-covered chair and stretched his 
long legs. He gave a deep sigh, relaxing with half-closed eyes. 
Mother's Day! Man, for the packages! It was worse than Christ- 
mas at the post office where Big Jim worked. There had been thou- 
sands of pieces of mail — packages, cards, and many orders. Yes, 
it had been worse than Christmas. 

He dozed a little, but now and then he glanced at the package 
which lay on the dresser, with its gay wrappings. It was Mom's 
package. Millie had seen to that. Tomorrow they would take it 
over to Mom, the three of them. 

It seemed silly, so much fuss over Mother's Day. Still it was 
a good way to let Mom know how you felt, because a fellow just 
couldn't say, in so many words, how it was between him and his 
mother. You couldn't recount how many times Mom had somehow 
seen you through. Those times when you had needed her most. 

Big Jim recalled that sick spell, pneumonia, and he could still 
feel Mom's cool hand on his brow. And that day she had served 
punch and cookies to the fellows as they practiced football in the 
backyard. That made Mom a regular with the team, and Big Jim had 
been so proud of her. When he was ten, she had sold an heirloom to 
buy him a bicycle. At seventeen he had a handsome pair of new 
shoes to wear to a school dance, but it was years later that Jim 
learned Mom had used a prized little sum she was saving for a new 

Big Jim couldn't remember when Mom hadn't stood out on the 
fringe of things to give a helping hand. Those long years without 
Dad, Mom somehow made up for them. She laughed for Jim's sake, 
when he knew she was crying within her breast. 

And then Millie had come into their lives. Sweet, beautiful Mil- 
lie. Mother of Little Jim. Mom loved them both. She reached out 
her heart and her hands and her love now was wrapped around all 
three of them. 

Big Jim rose, and covered Millie's shoulder with the spread as 
the breeze blew the curtain. Then he went out the door and started 
the car in the driveway. As he drove slowly down the street, he knew 
he couldn't enumerate all the things that Mom had done for him and 
Millie and Little Jim, but he would walk into her house, stretch out in 
the big leather chair that had been Dad's. Then he would take the 
plate with the new-baked brown bread and the glass of milk that Mom 
would offer him. After that he would lean back with a smile and say, 
"Thanks Mom. Thanks for everything." 



on the Farm 

Winona F. Thomas 

I MIGHT state that I am not an avid 
opera fan. In fact, most operas 
which rate the word grand in front 
of their titles, leave me cold. I admit 
they are way above me. The music 
may have all the skillful harmonies, 
and the singers have talent and all 
the necessary techniques, but operas 
must be melodious or I don't like 

Verdi's La Traviata is a grand 
opera with an interesting plot and 
pleasing melodies. The first time 
I heard a recording of it, I sat so 
charmed that I hardly moved a 
muscle until it was finished. It still 
has that effect on me. Every time 
I hear it I am completely enthralled. 
Last summer when we were in Chi- 
cago, some nice people took us to 
Kungsholm's Miniature Grand Op- 
era Theatre, where we saw La Tra- 
viata performed by thirteen-inch- 
high puppets while we listened to 
the libretto from recordings made 
in the Metropolitan Opera House. 
It was an experience I shall never 

Last week I heard the announce- 
ment that the opera would be broad- 
cast on the radio from the stage just 
as it was presented in the Metro- 
politan Opera House. I was glad 
that I had been slightly ill all week. 
It would give me an excuse to stay 
home, and here on the farm I could 
attend a production of La Traviata. 

I did the housework earl) and 
changed into a dress suitable to 

listen to grand music. I had taken 
the curlers from my hair and was 
applying some make-up when the 
announcer, who introduces the 
opera and briefs the listeners on 
the cast and continuity, came on the 
radio. As he told who the prin- 
cipals were, and who would sing 
Alfredo's and Violetta's parts, he 
was almost drowned out by the 
sound of a heavy truck coming into 
our driveway. As the overture 
started, footsteps clomped up across 
the porch, and a door was opened 
and slammed shut. 

"Come and take me to the 
field," a masculine voice command- 
ed. ''The tractor's not working, and 
I am getting behind in my spring 
work. I just ordered a new one. 
The dealer is bringing it down. He 
may be at the field already. Please 

I didn't turn off the radio. I 
didn't want to miss one single note 
as I went out, and I wanted to hear 
what was being played as I came 
back into the house. 

As there was no radio in the 
truck, I listened to the chug and 
rumble of the motor instead of 

We left the highway and turned 
down the lane that led to the field. 
There wasn't anyone there. 

''Do I have to wait?" I asked. 

"Yes, you better. Maybe he's 
had trouble. I might have to ride 
back to the house with you." 

"There he comes now," I said, 



pointing to a big truck coming down 
the lane. "May I go now?" 

''What's the hurry? Maybe he'll 
need something after he gets here. 
Don't waste gas. Turn off the en- 

I turned the truck around and 
headed it toward the gate before 
I turned off the key. I was ready 
for a quick getaway. 

The big truck turned in at the 
gate, and the driver got out and 
slowly let down the tailgate for a 
ramp. The tractor was unloaded 
in slow motion and the engine tink- 
ered with before it would start. 

"Everything seems to be all 
right," husband said, "come and 
get me about one thirty, and I'll 
come up for lunch and bring back 
a can of gas." 

I drove up the road as fast as I 
dared to in any vehicle so lacking 
in shock absorbers. Leaving the 
truck in the driveway, I ran into 
the house. Beautiful music was 
fading on the ether. 

"During the intermission we will 
hear the opera news, of the air," the 
announcer said. 

There was no music while I pre- 
pared lunch, just a discussion of 
things which didn't interest me. 

"We are now ready for the sec- 
ond act in which Giorgio Germont 
arrives and spoils the idyllic, roman- 
tic life his son Alfredo and Vio- 
letta have been leading," the an- 
nouncer said, and went on with 
what would be heard in the second 

I noticed the clock. I should 
have been in the field ten minutes 
ago. As the truck had no radio, 
I drove it out of the way and got 
the touring car out of the garage. 
I turned on the radio and tuned in 
the station. All I got were moans 
and buzzes. 

When I reached the field, hus- 
band was turning the tractor around 
in the farther end of the stubble 
patch. He came slowly toward me. 
He reached the end of the furrow 
he was plowing and stopped to 
scrape the mud from the plowshare. 
After surveying the result, he took 
a hammer and pounded it. 

"Hurry," I said. "I left lunch 

I knew he might hurry to save a 
stew. He fooled me. It seemed that 
the plowshares must be removed to 
be replaced with others he would 
bring down from the toolshed up 
by the house. When we reached 
the house, we ate lunch while listen- 
ing to very learned people discuss 
questions about various operas that 
had been selected. Just as husband 
pushed back his chair, the announ- 
cer came on. 

"We are about to hear the third 
act, the beautiful ballroom scene." 

Beautifully sad music began. I 
knew the climax was approaching. 
So were husband's orders. 

"Come and drive the truck to the 
field. I'lLput in the grain to feed 
the beef cattle, then I won't have 
to go around by the corral after I 
get through plowing tonight." 

He was changing his overalls 
while he spoke. This is important 
to mention, because the tractor 
keys were left in the pocket and I 
was the one who had to return to 
get them. 

I finally reached home and sank 
into a chair in time to hear Violetta 
cough delicately and sing exquisite- 
ly as she died in Alfredo's arms. 

"And the curtain falls on Verdi's 
masterpiece," the announcer said. 
"The principals will now take their 
curtain calls." 

I didn't join in the applause of 
the audience. It grated in my ears. 


Ask Mrs. Braithwaite 

Janice Dixon 

Mrs. Braithwaite is the most fabulous woman I've heard of in ages. She 
has seven children and never does a bit of work herself. She has her 
family so well-trained that all she has to do is organize and supervise. She 
spoke at a neighborhood meeting a few days ago and told us just how 
to do it. 

I have only four children: Charles eight, Steven six, Daniel four, and 
Lucy two, but I'm just positive that I can get the same results. Oh, it's not 
that I mind work but, as Mrs. Braithwaite says, ''No child should learn to 
be a drone. Each individual must learn that work is important. The 
work habit must be established early." 

Two days ago I started the ''everybody works" routine. I carefully 
decided on all the jobs that needed to be done and wrote them on slips 
of paper. This makes work more like a game, Mrs. Braithwaite says. 
Each child then drew to see which chore he was to do. They were so 
enthusiastic that I congratulated myself on my efficiency. Charles started 
to vacuum with a vigor that could only mean scars on the furniture but, 
after all, he had to learn. Steven started to dust the furniture with a push- 
button type of polish, and Daniel washed the windows, also with a can 
of window spray. Lucy's job was to pick up off the floor. She really was 
too young to try anything else. 



I settled down to a pile of correspondence. Everything was delightful 
for ten minutes. 

Charles started to suck up his sister with the vacuum, and I had to 
oversee his project. While I was pulling Lucy's dress out of the vacuum 
hose, Steven and Daniel had a spray can fight and the furniture polish 
won. The front room lost. I separated them and put a child in each 

After an hour, I decided that I had worked my children hard enough 
and sent them outside to play. This was wise, because the vacuum was 
clogged with a stocking and other sundries. Both spray cans were empty, 
although they had started out full. I found my car keys, a glass, two odd 
shoes, the turtle, a small doll, and a set of blocks in the dirty clothes 
hamper. Lucy had caught onto the idea of picking up, but unfortunately 
hadn't chosen the proper places for the objects. 

I was not discouraged. After all, practice makes perfect, as Mrs. 
Braithwaite always says. 

The next day, I decided that the children must help around the Tiouse 
again. Charles' job was to fix supper; Steven was to clean the bathroom; 
Danny could make the beds; and, again, Lucy could pick up. 

This time I didn't try to do anything else. I decided that all I would do 
was to supervise. Charles was busy fixing a jellied salad, so I checked on 
Steven. Cleanser was flying fast through the air and I rescued it about 
five seconds too late. A giant-size can was used on one bathtub and a sink. 
I wondered how Mrs. Braithwaite could afford to let her children help. 
The price of cleaning agents was mounting. I was sure the bathroom 
would be clean, so I checked on the bed-making project. Lumps that 
hadn't been in the beds before now appeared. I found several large trucks 
stashed underneath the covers. 

''The trucks are tired," Danny explained. 

By the time I had rescued the toys and helped my four-year-old make 
the beds, Steven had finished cleaning the bathroom. There was no dirt 
to be seen anywhere, because it was covered up with gobs of green clean- 
ser. I finished scraping the cleanser off the bathtub and went to check on 
Charles with dinner. He had decided (and started) on the full menu for 
dinner. It consisted of six packages of jello mixed with three quarts of 
fruit cocktail; four cans of frozen juice (orange, grape, pineapple, and lime- 
ade mixed together), peanut butter sandwiches, and pancakes. 

I fished three cans of tuna fish out of the dirty clothes hamper and 
decided that perhaps I had missed part of Mrs. Braithwaite's speech. My 
problem wasn't that my children didn't want to work. It was just that 
they helped too hard. They threw themselves into the task too thoroughly, 

''Work is fun," Charles announced. "What can we do now?" 

I decided that perhaps Mrs. Braithwaite could help me. I was sure 
she must have run into the same problem herself. I phoned her imme- 

"May I speak with Mrs. Braithwaite?" 

"Mrs. Braithwaite isn't here," a voice informed me. 

"Is this her daughter?" 

"No, the children aren't home. I'm just the cleaning woman." 


A Letter 

\ letter from Grandma was a great inspiration in our home. I was one of five children 
-^^- who had no Grandpas and only one Grandma. She was very special to us. 

We looked forward to receiving her letters with great anticipation. Each word was 
written with charity and love. 

Mother always placed the letter upon the bookcase to be read after dinner while 
the whole family was seated around our old-fashioned round table. We were so excited 
we could hardly wait until dinner was over. Grace was said hurriedly, and I don't think 
any of us ate our usual portions of food. 

I can visualize five exuberant children all chattering at once, until mother started 
to open the envelope; then we all quieted down until you could hear the clock tick. 

We sat in silence, each child waiting to hear the personal message the letter held 
for him or her. 

Grandma always remembered to mention things which were important to us. 

My heart always beat a little faster when Grandma asked, "How is my little 
Violet? Is she still working on the Toet and Peasant' overture? I'll be looking forward 
to hearing her play the piano when you come to visit next summer." Or perhaps she 
would say, "I am so pleased to hear that Violet is such a good little mother's helper." 

In one letter she said, "I suppose you children are all busy helping your mother 
and father pick strawberries." 

The next day we picked strawberries all day without any complaints or grumbles. 
We strove to live up to Grandma's praise and belief in us. About the time our inspired 
ambition began to diminish, there would be another letter from Grandma, and we would 
be back on our best behavior for another while. 

Through Grandma's letters we were aware of every lovely thing which God created 
for us to enjoy. The first robin in spring, the violets and pussy willows along the river 
bank; orioles, marigolds, and fleecy white clouds in summer; wild geese; pumpkins, corn 
shocks, and colorful maple trees in autumn, snowbirds, icicles and Ghristmas trees in 
winter. We had pointed out to us and appreciated and enjoyed the things in life that 
are free. 

Sometimes Grandma would tell us about something cute or mischievous that 
"Rembrandt" her cat had done, or she would tell us how fat the "precocious pig" was 
growing. The "precocious pig" was the piggy bank in which she saved pennies to spend 
on us when we went to visit her. 

She always enclosed a little prayer at the close of each letter. 

Grandma is in heaven now. I still say the prayers she taught us. I have taught 
them to my children, along with many of her beautiful thoughts. 

I cherish the memories of Grandma's letters and reflect their charitable contents 
with great nostalgia. 

Please, may I contribute as much Christian spirit and love for wholesome, un- 
selfish living as did our dear Grandma. 


Dearest Mom and Dad: 

Something happened last night that made me feel I cannot put off any longer 
this thought that I have carried in my mind for so long. 

The phone rang. Just such a simple thing as that. But it was in the dark hours 
of the morning. As soon as the first loud ring exploded the silence of our sleeping 
household, my heart began pounding, and my only thought was, "Something has hap- 
pened to one of the folks at home." 

I picked up the receiver and said, "Hello." A man's voice boomed at me. "Is 
this Mr. Schriber?" 


"Oh, I'm very sorry I disturbed you. I've called the wrong number." 

"That's all right," I replied, my relief so great I could feel myself growing weak. 

I returned to bed, but was so wide awake I knew sleep would be a long time 
returning, and I found my thoughts directed more strongly than usual toward all of 
you so many miles away. 

While I was growing up the thought never occurred to me that when I married 
I would move far from all of you to start a happy life and family with my husband. 
So when there were suddenly no more daily chats and visits, laughter, and secrets, 
I replaced the empty spot with remembering — remembering all the things, big and 
little, good and bad, that were my life before we moved away. And through all these 
years one thing stands out above all the rest — it is strange that it does not grow 
dim with time but becomes brighter and stronger — and that is the love and the 
patience, the sacrifices, and the helping hands you applied at the right times and 
places. You gave all of yourselves for your children. I would that I may have the 
strength to do as much for our children. 

I'm thankful the phone rang last night. It woke me up in several ways. It could 
easily have been sad news from home. Some day or some night it will be, but. Mom 
and Dad, when it happens I will not sadly say, "I wish I'd have let them know before 
it was too late." 

I have had these thoughts within me for so long and have always said, "Someday 
I will sit down and write the folks a long letter and let them know how I really feel." 
Someday — someday. Too many of us have too many somedays. 


Cuddly Cn»3 

Cuddle your baby in a colorful crib quilt. Always a valuable addition to any layette, 
these low-cost quilts are also nice to make for gifts or for money-making items for your 
Relief Society bazaar. 

Let your imagination go to work, and you will be pleasantly surprised at the 
beautiful and clever ideas you can discover at the amazingly low price of about three 
dollars a quilt. 

A Flannel Quilt 

For a simple but serviceable beginning, buy a yard and a half of unbleached 
muslin, a one-pound quilt batting (this is enough for two crib quilts), and a yard 
and half of plain-colored or figured flannel. Be sure the fabric is at least one yard wide, 
as this is enough, but if you want the quilt to be a little wider, sew a border of a con- 
trasting or matching fabric all around, having wider strips along the sides. Better yet, 
buy your fabric in the drapery department as it comes wider, and is of better quality. 

Flannel makes a soft, cozy quilt back. It wears well and is inexpensixc. Yon 
may want to make both the front and back of flannel. 

If you are artistically inclined, dream up any number of figures from babyland to 
trace on the muslin. Draw your chosen designs on a piece of wrapping paper the same 
size as your quilt, first, then transfer them to the material with the use of carbon paper. 

If you need help, there are many coloring books or storybooks with cute figures 
from which to copy clever little Mother Goose figures or animals. 

If you don't like to spend the time required for embroidering, you can buy real 
wax coloring crayons and color the figures in solid colors, then press with a cloth 
dipped in a strong vinegar and water mixture to set the colors. Here is also a good 
way to use your textile paints to good advantage. 

A Satin Quilt 

For a fancier quilt, you may want to use satin or similar material. On these, the 
quilting itself can be your design, and there is no limit to the cute figures you can 
create by merely quilting around your lightly outlined patterns. 

Quilt Blocks and Applique 

You may prefer to make a real old-fashioned-style quilt, using six or eight small 
blocks, either embroidered or appliqued, and sewed together with strips of the same 


V ^ ^v / ^ 

' «. ^ — « f 







^" \ '. \ 



^ ^ / / \ V \ 

S. J 

V • 

material voii arc using for the l)ack of the quilt. This is a good way to use seraps from 
other sewing projects. 

Preparing to Quilt 

When you get the top of the quilt made, you are ready to put it together with 
the batting in between. To do this, pin the back of the quilt to the quilting frames. 
Now place the batting carefully on. Next, pin the top of the quilt in place. Now 
you are ready to quilt with small stitches. Stitch around each figure, being sure to get 
through all the thicknesses of material. Now bind all the edges with wide cotton bias 
or wide satin ribbon, or bias strips of the material you wish. 

If you don't have quilting frames, you can use your curtain stretchers, or you can 
make some frames, by tacking strong cotton strips on fpur long, narrow boards, leaving 
about an inch of the material at the edge along the board so that pins can hold the 
quilt in place firmly. You then can buy four clamps to hold the boards together at 
the four corners. Prop the frames on four chairs. 

Tied Quilt 

Here is an idea for an easy quilt. This doesn't need to be quilted, but is tied with 
yarn. Buy a bright print which has large animals or circus people, and put a discarded 
cotton blanket in between the front and the back of the quilt. Thread a large needle 
with colorful yarn and take one stitch clear through all the thicknesses, pulling the 
threads long enough to tie. You may baste this way all across in rows and cut the 
thread in between to tie. There should be a tie every four or five inches in even rows. 
Do not tie the yarn too tightly, as it may shrink and break. 

If you would like a c|uilt which is less heavy, or bulky — one that can be used as 
a spread as well as a quilt — - then make the top of an all-over design and a bottom of 
good heavy flannel with no batting or other thickness between. Put the top and bottom 
right sides together and sew on your sewing machine around three sides, leaving the 
fourth side open to turn inside out. After turning, fold the raw edges of the fourth 
edge inside and stitch along. This quilt needs no binding. Now, baste along all four 
edges and around each figure with very long basting stitches. Machine stitch around 
each figure with your longest machine stitch. Try not to pull the quilt as you sew, 
but just gently guide it through, to prevent pucking. Now take out the basting. 


Sewing Time Dorothy C. Little 

Is sewing on the agenda today? Then make a clean sweep of it! Plan and organize all 
the sewing you would like to get done in the next month. Now, instead of sewing 
today, leave the sewing machine in its case or cabinet and spend the day cutting out 
your planned articles. Save the mess and bother of cutting out every time you sew, 
and you can spend more time actually sewing each time you get out the machine. 

Plastic bags are perfect for storing scraps of material. When you need a patch, 
it is easy to see the one you want. Just reach in and get it without disturbing the rest! 

Plastic bags are also wonderful for storing your good pieces of material. If you 
do this, you can buy your corduroy in the spring and your light-weight cottons in the 
fall when they are on sale. With the material on hand, you are more likely to get 
the next season's clothing made before the next season is half over. 

If little girl's stiff petticoats are too expensive, buy a pair of sturdy cotton panties 
instead! Training panties work well if you can get them the right size. Then sew a 
big, soft ruffle about five inches below the elastic. Sew two or three small stiff ruffles 
to the big one, add lace, and there is your slip! Remember to use a small needle, and 
stretch the panty materials as you sew it, as you do when you're sewing elastic. Have it 
worn over regular panties to save washings. 

If the children drive you to a frazzle while you desperately zoom through the neces- 
sary sewing, you are not very different from the thousands who throw up their hands 
and go buy all their clothing, ready-made. To keep your own precious individuality, 
stop trying to keep them contented, and hand them each a button to sew onto 
an interesting scrap, or start them on some simple embroidery. A four-year-old is not 
too young to enjoy sewing, with your interest and supervision! 

Potpourri of Handy Hints 

Jo M. Stock 

Phstic tops of small medicine containers make caps for spools of thread. No more 
tangled threads! 

Wax the tent floor heavily. It remains clean longer and is easier to keep clean. 

Add /4 - 54 cup vinegar to final rinse. Clothes are soft and fluffy. 

Remove odor from any bottle or other container by filling with hot water to over- 
flowing after thoroughly cleaning. 

Put peelings and food scraps in the blender. Bury them under a shovelful of dirt 
and build a rich garden plot. 

A bit of glue behind the suction cup of a towel rack prevents its ever slipping. 

Pie crust will not shrink if set aside in the pan for five minutes before trimming and 

Cook cauliflower in equal amounts of milk and water, and it will remain snowy 

Remove the core from the head of lettuce and strike the core end sharply on a 
firm surface. Leaves loosen and are easily removed without tearing. 

Record sl "letter" occasionally to your child and place it among his favorite tapes. 
He will find it and not only enjoy it but will give more heed to admonitions conveyed 
by this method. 

Gladioli bulbs planted against a house foundation do not freeze. They may remain 
without separating for two or three years. 



Romaine R. Cooksey 

EMPANADITAS (little fried pies) 
(Castile, Spain) 





c. flour 

tsp. (level) baking powder 

tsp. salt 

c. shortening (or less) 

meat broth from cooked pork to 

form soft dough 

Sift together into mixing bowl the 
flour, baking powder, and salt. Cut in 
shortening with pastry blender. Add 
meat broth sufficient to form soft 
dough. Turn dough onto lightly floured 
board. Roll dough to a thinness 
equal to that for ordinary pies. Cut 
into small circles with cookie cutter 
about the size of a cup. Place filling 
on bottom crusts, using a teaspoon, 
and cover with a top crust. Flute the 
two crusts together, using two fingers, 
so they will hold the filling in. Deep 

fry pies in hot fat at once to a light 
golden brown. 

These pies are better small, as they 
are rich. They are a favorite for 
Christmas among the Spanish people. 


2 lbs. pork 
2 c. sugar 
1 c. soaked raisins 
1 tsp. nutmeg 
1 tsp. cinnamon 
1 tsp. cloves 
1/2 tsp. salt 

Cook pork the day before and grind 
with small grinder. (Be sure to save 
the broth for the dough). Mix the 
ground pork and other ingredients 


1 lb. pork from which all fat has been removed 

1 tbsp. salt 

1 tsp. chili powder 

1 tbsp. flour 

1/2 c. cold water 

1 tsp. garlic, chopped fine or 

1 tsp. cominos (if preferred) 

Before you even attempt to make red chili Spanish style, be sure your chili 
powder is pure. Pure chili can be purchased in many stores, but its qualities 
should be known. Pure chili is bright red, and is not bitter. 

Cook pork ten minutes and add salt. Cook about 1 hour. Mix together the 
chin, flour, and cold water and add to cooked meat. Add garlic, or cominos, 
if preferred. 

You now have delicious chili. 




Margaret Maxwell 

Meal planning is sometimes a 
problem for the busy mother of a 
preschool child. What can she fix 
that is nutritious and appealing to 
the older members of the family, and 
yet is suitable and tempting fare for 
a small child? The preschooler, 
even more than the adult, must have 
a diet v^hich includes a generous 
supply of foods chosen from the 
basic four groups: milk, meat and 
eggs, vegetables and fruits, and 
bread and cereal products. Yet, as 
every mother know^s, the very foods 
that are most important to good, all- 
around nutrition for the preschooler 
are often those which he likes the 
least. However, food can be served 
to the small child in such a way that 
he will naturally develop good eat- 
ing habits that will benefit him 
throughout his life. 

Introduce new foods to the pre- 
schooler casually, without special 
comment. It is helpful if the rest 
of the family is in the habit of try- 
ing new dishes with enthusiasm, as 
such an attitude is contagious. Serve 
only one new food at a time, in a 
small helping, preferably with an 
old favorite to go along with it. It 

is good psychology, if the child re- 
jects the new food, to remove it 
without comment. Sometimes the 
casual remark, "I'm not at all sur- 
prised you don't like this. This is 
grown-up food," will make a child 
have second thoughts about the new 
dish. Try the new food again in a 
couple of weeks. The results may 
be altogether different. 

The younger child, who is still 
learning to manipulate eating uten- 
sils successfully, finds it a welcome 
relief to be served food which may 
be picked up with his fingers. Crisp 
foods, such as carrot sticks, celery 
sticks, and toast cut in quarters or 
strips are easy to eat and generally 
popular. Hard-cooked egg cut in 
quarters, chunks of raw, peeled 
apple, cooked whole green beans, 
and asparagus spears add interest to 
the toddler's diet. 

For the mother of the "picky" 
eater, here are a few hints. A small, 
child-size plastic glass, or a cup from 
a set of play dishes, which can be 
filled and refilled by the child him- 
self from a little pitcher, may en- 
courage the milk-hater to drink his 
quota of milk without a protest. A 



drop of red food coloring, making 
"pink milk," or a shake of sweet- 
ened strawberry or chocolate-flavored 
instant mix in his pitcher, makes 
plain milk more interesting for an 
occasional change. Small, colorful 
plates and dishes served with doll- 
size portions of food often spur the 
reluctant eater to demand second 
and even third helpings. 

But the best help the parents of 
the healthy but balky young eater 
can give is to regard his eating, or 
non-eating, with casual noncha- 

Here are a group of tested favor- 
ites that are special treats for times 
when the preschooler is eating with- 
out the older members of the family 
— although these dishes have such 
eye and taste appeal that the rest of 
the family will probably want to 
try them, too. They are rich in 
nourishing protein, minerals, and 
vitamins, and yet they can be 
served as a "party food" that will 
make the small child clean his plate 
and come back for more. 


Easily digested, high in body-building 
protein, eggnog has long been a favorite 
of both preschoolers and their nutrition- 
conscious mothers. For the child who 
simply doesn't like milk, or who balks at 
his morning soft-cooked egg, an eggnog, 
served in a small cup with a straw to go 
with it, may be a happy solution. 


Beat one egg with rotary beater or elec- 
tric blender. Gradually add 1 tsp. vanilla 
extract, a dash of salt, and 1 c. cold milk. 
Sweeten to taste. Sprinkle with nutmeg 
just before serving. 


Molasses Eggnog: Add 2 tsp. molasses to 
above recipe for added iron. 

Orange Eggnog: Add 1/2 c. orange juice 
to above recipe; omit nutmeg. 

Egg Cream: 

1 egg, separated 

2 tsp. sugar 

^2 c. powdered milk 
I/2 c. boiling water 
sprinkle of nutmeg 

Beat egg white stiff with rotary beater. 
Beat in sugar, powdered milk, and egg 
yolk. Slowly pour in boiling water, beat- 
ing constantly. Serve with a sprinkle of 
nutmeg on each cup. Makes about 2 

Cheese, egg, and tuna dishes make 
hearty energy fare for the small child's 
luncheon menu. Here are two main-dish 
favorites for the preschool set. 


With a biscuit cutter, remove the cen- 
ter of a slice of bread. Dip the remainder 
in French toast batter (beaten egg 
thinned with milk or cream and a pinch 
of salt). Lay bread in hot greased skil- 
let; break an egg into the hollow center. 
Cover skillet and cook until egg is set 
and bread is brown on bottom. Turn 
over briefly to set egg on top and brown 
other side of bread. Dip leftover bread 
centers in French toast batter and bake 
on hot skillet. Serve with applesauce 
sprinkled with cinnamon. 


Blend one can tomato soup with '/2 c. 
shredded cheese. Add ^2 c chunk tuna. 
Heat until cheese is melted and all in- 
gredients well blended. Serve over hot 
buttered toast wedges, with a glass of 
cold milk. 

For a special dessert treat, try Pink 
Peppermint Pudding, or Strawberry Sur- 
prise Cakes. 


24 small white, plain cupcakes, cooked 
1 recipe strawberry-flavored gelatin 

Slice off cupcake tops; hollow out cup- 
cake with spoon. Fill with slightly 
thickened strawberry-flavored gelatin. Re- 
place top; refrigerate until gelatin is set. 
Leftover cake centers may be saved and 
mixed with vanilla or butterscotch pud- 
ding for a dessert treat for the next day. 

As an occasional breakfast or supper treat, 
top a cup of hot cocoa with a marshmal- 
low and serve with cinnamon toast, or 


MAY 1964 

with chocolate toast. For chocolate toast: Va c. raisins 

mix a heaping tbsp. of sugar with V4 tsp. 
of cocoa; sprinkle over hot buttered toast. 


Yd c. hot water 
4 tbsp. farina 
1 tsp. sugar 
sprinkle of cinnamon 

1 drop red food coloring 

1 drop peppermint flavoring, if desired 

V2 c. powdered milk 

Blend all ingredients except powdered 
milk in small saucepan. Bring to boil, 
stirring constantly; cook until thickened. 
Remove from heat; stir in powdered milk. 
Serve warm. Serves 2. 

Oatmeal Date Bread 

Anne Marie Astle 

1 14 c. warm milk 

2 pkg. dry yeast 

1 c. rolled oats (uncooked) 

1 tsp. salt 

'/4 c. sugar 

1 tsp. cinnamon 

2 tbsp. shortening 
Yi c. cut-up dates 

3 to 3/2 c. sifted flour 

Dissolve yeast in warm milk. Add oats, salt, sugar, cinnamon, shortening, and 
dates. Stir well. 

Mix in flour. Knead on lightly floured board until smooth and elastic. Place 
in greased bowl; cover. Let rise until double in bulk (1 to 1/2 hours); punch down 
and allow to rise again. 

After second rising shape into loaf; place in greased loaf pan. Cover; let rise 
again. Bake at 375° for 40 to 45 minutes. 


While still slightly warm, ice top with mixture of Yz cup powdered sugar mixed 
with enough milk to make a thin icing. 


Select Your Own Dessert 

Patricia M. Faas 

Our staff was invited to the boss' home for dinner. With all the tempting- 
looking and very delicious foods being served, no one even thought of dessert, 
when the host asked his wife, "Is there dessert?" 

"Dessert!" she exclaimed, "if they get any, they'll have to build their 
own!" In the next moment, our plates were removed and the table hastily 
set for another course. A fruit dish appeared, loaded with bananas and seedless 
grapes. Ice cream balls (two kinds) rolled in coconut and flaked nuts, were 
passed along with several kinds of ice cream toppings. Other fruits were served, 
including berries, maraschino cherries, and crushed pineapple. After delighted 
remarks had subsided, we set about building our own desserts. 

This treat alone has proved to be quite successful in our own family for 
planning parties and Church get-togethers. It is great fun, very little work for 
the hostess, and has special appeal for youngsters and oldsters of every age. 
And it is interesting to observe how many exciting personalities a build-your- 
own dessert can have! 

Suggested toppings: Chocolate, caramel, butterscotch, marshmallow. 
Fruit toppings: strawberry, pineapple, boysenberry, raspberry, peach. 
Other trimmings: nuts, coconut, seedless grapes, maraschino cherries. 





Janet W. Breeze 

Are your little ones learning to 
dress themselves? Iron four-color 
transfers onto the fronts of undershirts 
and panties for fewer turnabouts. 


From the Dear Windows of Home 

Leona Fetzer Wfntch 

Home, Our Heaven on Earth 

I SN'T it wonderful that we can come home to spout off pent-up feelings that need 
•■■ to be released? We cannot do this in public, so we sometimes behave worst around 
those whom we love the most. This letting off steam should not be frequent, however. 
Yet, some explodings, raised voices, and tears of children (and others who are not yet 
angels) come with disagreements that are a process of growth. The voicing of some 
differences can, at times, be wholesome. We can even say, "Happy is the home where 
enlightened discussions characterize the communication between family members." 

Home should be a calm refuge, a place of warmth, fragrant with kindness. None 
of us can stand pressures all day long and come home to more of them without having 
the mortar of life washed out of us. The father of the home likes to have his sur- 
roundings neat and pleasing, but when he has to be careful where he sits, be becomes 
confused and unhappy. 

To be harassed during work hours and again at home harrows the heart of any 
man. But if home is a refuge from tensions and frustrations, the peace and love he 
feels become an annealing balm to him. With the oil of gladness crowning him, 
he can see unlimited horizons and meet daily challenges with new physical and mental 
vigor. The demanding, stampeding world can be better met by all of us if we find 
replenishment in this haven, our heaven on earth. 

To Be or to Do? That Is the Question 

T~\0 you sometimes feel compelled to keep moving, going, and doing, even after you 
-*-^ are exhausted or have time off? The value of this kind of "busy work" is 
questionable, because it is not motivated by wholesome purposiveness. The next time 
you drive yourself without knowing why, reflect on Emerson's saying that it is easier to 
do than to be. Philosophers have talked about this for centuries, and today psychol- 
ogists underline the words. 

When we arc insistent on doing rather than being, it is time to become analytical. 
It is possible that we keep on the go to avoid ourselves, since when we hurry around, 
we do not have time to measure our goals or our true situations. Then we almost have 
to force ourselves to find a quiet space and re-evaluate the very factors in our lives that 
we are trying to repress. 

The serenity we seek can only come when we face ourselves, because satisfying 
relationships with others depend on our own good relationships with ourselves. We 
often harrow our inner peace with bitter ashes of regret. At least weekly, we should 
take stock of ourselves, repent, partake of the sacrament, and then turn our energies 
to self-fulfillment. Then we can be, as well as do. 


Alma A- Fernelius — ''Lady of Lovely Crocheting'' 

Alma A. Fernelius, Ogden, Utah, is very busy with housework, garden work, 
and Relief Society activities and yet she finds time for crocheting, her principal 
and special hobby. She has crocheted eight bedspreads and nine tablecloths, as 
well as edgings for many pairs of pillowslips, doilies, corners for napkins, and 
numerous other designs and motifs. She is a meticulous housekeeper and takes 
care of a beautiful garden. Her busy hands and her happy heart are an inspira- 
tion to her family and her many friends. She has been a teacher for almost fifty 
years, and has been a counselor to three Relief Society presidents. 




Hazel M. Thomson 

Chapter 4 

Synopsis: Selena and Belle Baldwin, 
sisters, arrive in the Valley of the 
Great Salt Lake, after traveling across 
the plains in a company commanded by 
Lon Holiday, captain of fifty, and Jo- 
siah Blodgett, captain of ten. Selena, 
whose fiance died at Winter Quar- 
ters, is bitter over her loss and cannot 
be comforted. Belle and Josiah are 
married immediately after the arrival 
of the wagon train in the Valley. They 
decide to accompany the saints who 
are leaving for San Bernardino, Cali- 
fornia, to make a settlement there. 
Selena is invited to accompany Belle 
and Josiah, and Lon, still in love with 
Selena, decides to go with the com- 

Lon was silent for some time, 
waging a battle within himself, 
between what he wanted to do 
and the thing he felt was right 
and honorable. Belle, too, lapsed 
into silence, taking a deep inter- 
est in the country around her, as 
she did wherever she traveled. 

As they watched the beautiful 
mountains, both Lon and Belle 
could see the lead wagons pulling 
off to the side to stop for the 
night. Some of the people in the 

wagon train would find friends 
here at Provo. This night there 
would be singing and dancing and 
the renewal of friendships. Cabin 
doors would be thrown open to 
bid the travelers welcome, and 
hot meals would be provided 
through the hospitality of these 
saints, so recently on the trail 

"I can't do it. Belle," Lon 
finally said. 

''You can't do it? But why, 

"Selena doesn't know her own 
mind right now. I can't ask her 
to marry me yet." 

"I'm giving you fair warning, 
Lon. I know how long you have 
been in love with my sister, but 
if you stand by and let this Alfred 
Quale step into Selena's life you'll 
not be doing her any favor." 

"How can you be so sure, 
Belle? He might be a whole lot 
better Latter-day Saint than I 
am. What do you have against 
him, anyway?" 



Belle looked at Lon in amaze- 

"I can't understand you, Lon 
Holiday, to take such an attitude 
in this. I guess I've been wrong 
from the start. I thought you 
were in love with Selena." 

"I am in love with her, Belle, 
and that's the very reason I can't 
take advantage of her unhappi- 
ness and ask her to marry me 
when she's in such a state of in- 
decision about everything." 

"I'll get down now, if you 
please," Belle said. "Sorry to 
have bothered you, Lon." 

"Belle," pleaded Lon, as he 
drew the horses to a halt, "please 
don't misunderstand me. You 
know what Selena means to me." 

"I know that if this Alfred 
keeps coming around, and she de- 
cides to marry him it will be your 
fault," said Belle as she jumped 
to the ground and headed for her 
own wagon. 

After the meeting at which the 
final organization for travel was 
worked out, everyone being noti- 
fied as to whether they were to 
be in Brother Lyman's group or 
the remaining half of the wagons 
which Brother Rich would lead, 
there was a party of good will held 
for the travelers. 

When the dancing began there 
was Alfred, just as Belle had 
feared, offering his arm to Se- 
lena. Where was Lon? Belle 
wondered. He had been right 
there by Josiah just a moment 

As Selena accepted the invita- 
tion and moved onto the rough- 
hewn boards that served as a 
floor in this building used both 
for recreation and worship, Belle 
looked up at Josiah. Their eyes 

met, and Josiah knew immediate- 
ly what was worrying his wife. 

"You heard tl\em make him 
captain of ten again for the trip. 
He said he had to go check the 
wagons under his command while 
he is still here where there is an 
anvil and forge if they are need- 

"Selena dancing with that Al- 
fred, and Lon out checking wag- 
on wheels! Well, I don't know 
why I should worry if he refuses 

The trip at first had been taken 
leisurely, traveling through the 
settlements, but the visiting for 
a night with friends was coming 
to an end. Lon, never really en- 
thusiastic about leaving the Great 
Salt Lake Valley, felt again a 
wave of uneasiness as he listened 
to the words of Brother Rich. 

"The company is too large to 
travel together," he said. "In 
order to prevent drawing too 
heavily on the desert springs at 
any one time, there must be 
some little distance between the 
first and second sections of the 
group. However, we will have 
places of meeting along the way. 
When the first section reaches 
Parowan, it is to wait for the 
other to arrive. Further plans will 
be made then for crossing the des- 

The assignments had already 
been made, but the names were 
read again in order to have no 
misunderstandings. Lon knew he 
would be traveling with Brother 
Rich, while Josiah was included 
in Brother Lyman's group. 

The long meeting was drawing 
to its close, and there was still no 
sign of President Young. Then 
Brother Pratt, who evidently had 


MAY 1964 

just arrived at the meeting, 
stepped into the firelight. He 
conversed in a whisper with 
Brother Lyman and Brother Rich. 
The crowd waited expectantly. 
This was the moment that they 
had been anticipating since leav- 
ing Salt Lake, that of hearing a 
farewell message from their Presi- 
dent, who had been out of the 
city at the time, making visits to 
the newer settlements. 

The announcement was short 
— simply that President Young 
would not be present. Lon waited 
through the closing hymn and the 
prayer. He saw Josiah and Belle 
leave to return to their wagon. 
Across the firelight he watched 
Selena walking away from the 
group beside Alfred Quayle, his 
hand on her arm. 

Lon could not go yet. He must 
know. He went at once to where 
the three apostles stood. 

"Brother Pratt," Lon said. ''We 
had hoped to hear from the Presi- 
dent. He is in the settlement, 
isn't he?" 

"He is," Brother Parley an- 
swered. "I called upon him my- 
self. He is most disturbed at 
the size of the group." 

"But why?" asked Lon. "Didn't 
he, himself, place Brother Rich 
and Brother Lyman in charge of 
the undertaking? Would he do 
that and not be in favor of our 

"He told me that he expected 
about twenty men, with their 
families, to go. His statement 
was that 'the sight of so many of 
the saints, running to California, 
chiefly after the god of this world' 
sickened him and he felt unable 
to address them." 

Lon turned away, shaken. Half- 

way to his wagon he stopped sud- 
denly and raised his eyes to the 
star-filled skies. Aloud, with no 
one to hear except the night 
wind, he vowed a vow. 

"I have started this," he said. 
"I shall help move this company 
on to California. Nothing shall 
come between me and the God of 
heaven, and one day I will re- 

Just saying the words aloud 
seemed helpful to Lon. He felt a 
reassurance that always, wherever 
he was, he would never permit his 
actions to cause him to lose his 
newly acquired testimony of 

As Lon neared Josiah's wagon, 
on the way to his own, he saw 
Belle coming toward him. 

"I think you should go right 
this minute and ask them to 
change you back to Brother 
Rich's Company, so you will be 
with us and Selena." 

"I can't do that. Belle." There 
was quiet determination in the 
words. "I must help as captain 
of ten where I've been assigned." 

"You can help just as well in 
our company. I can't see that 
it makes a mite of difference." 

"But it does. First of all. 
Brother Lyman has Captain Hunt 
with him. He has been over the 
route twice before and will be a 
valuable help to the group, to all 
of us, in fact. But the leaders are 
making it a point not to put all 
the men who have been captains 
of groups in the lead company. I 
must stay where I've been placed 
by those in charge. Brother Rich 
is the only man we have who has 
traveled this route." 

Belle recognized the finality of 
his decision and the uselessness 
of argument. "Lon, sometimes I 



wonder whether Selena really 
means anything to you." 

In the darkness it was impos- 
sible for her to see the look of 
pain cross Lon's face. He waited 
a long moment before he spoke. 

"Next to the gospel itself, I love 
Selena more than anything in 
this world, Belle. And IVe been 
worried all along that I had done 
the wrong thing in going to Cah- 
fomia. President Young's decid- 
ing against speaking to us tonight 
has helped confirm my fears. But 
IVe started this thing, and now 
I have a job to do. You say I 
could do it just as well in the 
other company. That's not the 
only consideration. Refusing to 
take counsel is the first step along 
the road to apostasy. I can't let 
this happen in my case. What- 
ever is asked of me, that is the 
thing I must do." 

Belle fell in step beside Lon, and 
the two of them walked together 
back to Josiah's wagon. Selena 
and Alfred were seated on a log 
in front of the wagon. Belle went 
on to the back of the wagon and 
entered it. Lon spoke to the other 
two, lifted his hat and would have 
walked on when he heard Alfred 
speaking to him. 

"I heard them read your name 
with the rear company. Holiday. 
Did you get it changed back all 

Lon looked at Selena. She was 
staring into the fire, not seeing 
either of them. Lon's heart ached 
within him at the thought of be- 
ing separated from her so much 
more than he had been. He well 
reahzed that only upon rare oc- 
casions would the two groups be 
together throughout the remain- 
der of the trip. He turned back 
to face Alfred Quayle. 

"I didn't ask," he said. 

Alfred whooped. "What!" 

"I didn't ask," repeated Lon. 

"Man, don't you realize that 
the grass will be all gone and the 
water holes dry, time that last 
company comes along?" 

"I'll take my chances," Lon an- 
swered evenly. He turned to 
Selena and held out his hand. 
"Goodbye, Selena. I hope the 
rest of the trip will be pleasant 
for you." 

As the trip progressed, Lon 
found himself wondering at times, 
whether he should have asked to 
remain with the other company. 
Still, there was always the satis- 
faction of knowing that he had 
done as he had been asked. He 
was beginning to believe that 
Quayle had other designs, once he 
arrived in California. 

Had Lon only known it, Josiah 
in the wagon train ahead, was 
beginning to get much the same 
impression. Quayle had made 
himself quite a constant rider 
with Selena. True, she laughed at 
his jokes, and even Belle had 
grudgingly admitted that it was 
more pleasant to have Selena act- 
ing like this than in such a state 
of depression. 

It was one evening after sup- 
per when the women were doing 
up the dishes that Alfred made 
the remark that caused Josiah to 
suspect that Belle had been right 
in her feelings concerning him. 

"These wagons move so in- 
fernally slow," Alfred said. "Hope 
there is still some left when we 
get there." 

"Some?" asked Josiah, looking 
up from the gun he was cleaning. 
"Some what?" 

''Gold! Oh, I know right 


MAY 1964 

enough that we're a few years be- 
hind the rush, but they're still 
making strikes occasionally. And 
I mean to make one!" 

''But I thought you knew," 
said Josiah. "I thought everyone 
in the wagon knew that we're 
not going to look for gold. We're 
going only to build another settle- 
ment to the glory of the Lord." 

"You may be," answered Al- 
fred, looking far away toward the 
blue mountains to the south and 
west. ''Not me. I'm going to 
build up the glory of Alfred 
Quayle. And believe me, it's go- 
ing to be quite a glory!" 

Josiah repeated his conversa- 
tion with Quayle, confirming 
Belle's fears about the man. 

She was remembering Josiah's 
words of just a few short days 

"Why are you so pessimistic. 
Belle?" he had asked. "Just be- 
cause you had Lon Holiday all 
branded and tagged for your sis- 
ter, you can't see her with any- 
one else. You'll have to admit 
Quayle has cheered your sister up 
considerable. He's quite a jok- 

"Oh, he's a joker, all right," 
Belle had agreed. "He can make 
Selena laugh, but I don't think 
he could ever make her happy." 

"Well, he wouldn't be my 
choice for Selena, Belle, but you'd 
better get it through your head 
that we're not doing the choosing. 
If she decides on Quayle, reckon 
we'll just have to welcome him in- 
to the family and like it." 

"I might have to welcome him 
into the family, but I don't have 
to like it," Belle said. "Oh, it 
makes me so mad that Lon 
wouldn't even ask to be put in 

our company 


"It was a point of honor with 
him. Belle," Josiah had said. "He 
felt it was his duty and when Lon 
Holiday feels something to be his 
duty, there's nothing or no one 
going to stop him from doing it." 

The close association Lon was 
having with Brother Rich became 
a source of pleasure to him, inter- 
spersed with his worries concern- 
ing Selena in the company ahead. 
The apostle had been over the 
route they were traveling some 
two years before. He remem- 
bered many things of interest 
which he shared with Lon, as the 
two of them walked together by 
the side of Brother Rich's wagon 
and his six yoke of oxen. 

Lon found it impossible to ride 
comfortably in his own wagon and 
see some of the sisters walking 
beside their own teams of oxen, 
so often he walked as one or an- 
other of them drove his horses. 

"It's the desert that will really 
test our strength, Lon," Brother 
Rich had said. "If we can only 
get across it with all our people 
and animals, everything else will 
work out fine." 

Will it? Lon found himself won- 
dering. The days began to drag 
and he was most impatient to 
reach Little Salt Lake Valley and 
the lead company and Selena. 

They had been over three 
weeks on the trail when he heard 
Brother Rich shout, "There it is! 
That's Parowan up ahead and 
the other company." 

When they pulled up and 
stopped for camp, Lon could hard- 
ly force himself to take the time 
to check his ten wagons before 
he went in search of Josiah's out- 
fit. He hoped he would find Jo- 
siah and Belle with just Selena 


and no company. Especially with- 
out the particular company he 
had in mind. He was just ready 
to leave when Brother Rich came. 
"Lon! I'm glad I found you in 
camp. I need you to go in to 
Parowan and see if you can find 
any barrels or canteens that we 
might be able to get. When we 
get to the desert we will need 


every container that will hold 
water. Several of us are going. 
Can you come along?" 

"Why, of course," answered 
Lon, disappointment hanging 
heavy upon him. This might 
take the entire evening. The lead 
company would be moving out in 
the early morning. 

(To be continued) 

Prayer for My Daughter 

Carol le Denton 

Dark as the earth, her eyes, dark and brushed 
With secrets only this birth has hushed. 
From root to leaf, the life is the tree. 
Let this young child take strength from me. 

Time on the leaf, lines drawn with care, 
Will tell the story life places there. 
And fed by the tree all summer long. 
Let the leaf in the wind echo bird's song. 

The fruit of the tree is the color of fall. 
The ripening after the springtime call. 
And gently touched by the earth and skies, 
Let her learn the secrets in her dark eyes. 


Magazine Honor Roll 

for 1963 

Counselor Marianne C. Sharp 

The General Board is most desirous that every English-reading Relief Society 
member read The Relief Society Magazine and thus bind ever closer the 
sisterhood of Relief Society. It is a satisfaction, also, to see material from The 
Relief Society Magazine translated into the foreign-speaking mission publications. 
Therefore, the General Board rejoices that the subscriptions to The Relief 
Society Magazine in 1963 reached an all-time high of 217,397, an increase of 
15,827 over the year 1962. 

For the seventeenth year South Los Angeles Stake tops the list, wih a per- 
centage of 209. It also ranks first in the number of subscriptions with 1652. 
The highest ward was South Gate of the South Los Angeles Stake with 349 per 
cent. The Irish Mission attained the highest per cent of the missions with 135 per 
cent. The East Central States Mission had the highest number of subscriptions 
with 1196. The Londonderry-Omagh District of the Irish Mission reached 154 per 
cent, and the Sidney Branch of the Western States Mission was the high- 
est branch in a mission with 311 per cent. 

Letters of commendation are constantly received from subscribers who 
feel that the Magazine is offering to Relief Society members valuable assistance 
in carrying forward their Relief Society work, as well as providing reading material 
which reflects Latter-day Saint standards and encourages better living. 

More and more literary contributions are received from countries other than 
the United States, and the General Board welcomes the opportunity of publishing 
those which conform to Magazine standards. In order to recognize distant home- 
lands of the contributors, it is the policy of the editors, at present, to indi- 
cate after the name of the author, the country in which the author lives where 
it is outside Continental United States. 

Gratitude and thanks are extended to the more than 5,000 Magazine repre- 
sentatives who labor so tirelessly to place the Magazine in every Latter-day Saint 
home. The support of ward and stake presidencies is vital to the success of the 
Magazine promotion work, and their great contribution is also acknowledged. 




Honors for Highest Ratings 


South Los Angeles (California) 209% 
Magazine Representartive — Amelia Dellenbach 


Soreth Gate Ward, South Los Angeles Stake (California) 349% 
Magazine Representative — Imogene Slater 


Irish Mission — 135% 
Mission Magazine Representative — Sandra M. Covey .. 

Mission District 

Londonderry-Omagh District, Irish Mission — 154% 
Magazine Representative — Sandra M. Covey 

Mission Branch 

Sidney Branch — 311% 

West Nebraska District, Western States Mission 

Magazine Representative — Gladys Dean 

Ten Highest Percentages in Stakes 

South Los Angeles 209.. ..Amelia Dellenbach 

Huntington Park 185. ..Rachel Liston 

Glendale 141....Edythe M. Fairbanks 

Mojave 139. ...Alice Bundles 

Inglewood ._ 133. ..Edith Pew 

Burley 130.. ..Virginia F. Nichols 

Las Vegas 129. ..Eloise Leavitt 

Phoenix 125... Alva Knight 

South Idaho Falls _....125....Ahce Moss 

Redondo ...122. ...Nedra R. Stott 

Missions Achieving Ten Highest Percentages 

Irish 135. ..Sandra M. Covey 

Western States 116. ..Carroll Thorpe 

California ...114.. .Midene McKay Anderson 

North Central States 109. ..Carmen L. Dahlgren 

Northwestern States 100. ..Eva Mertlich 

Canadian 99... Caroline Willey Lee Pitcher 

Northern States 99. ..Ira Mae Palmer 

New England 96 ...Alberta S. Baker 

West Central States 96.. ..Laura C. Home 

Eastern States 92....Zelma R. West 


MAY 1964 

Ten Stakes With Highest Number of Subscriptions 





South Los Angeles 1652 

Twin Falls 


Huntington Park 1317 



Glendale 1307 



Mesa 11151/2 



Ensign 1050 



Ten Missions With Highest Number of Subscriptions 






East Central States 1196 

Southern States 


New England 928 

Eastern Atlantic 


Northwestern States 812 



Gulf States 726 

Northern States 


North Central States 667 



Stakes in Which All Wards Received 100% or Over 

Alameda Rosalie W. Taylor 

Ammon Violet Wakley 

Bear River Lottie R. Potter 

Bonneville Grace B. Larsen 

Boston - Delia Chaplin 

Burley Virginia F. Nichols 

Denver Katherina Belmain 

East Idaho Falls Sarah Owens 

East Jordan LaVenna S. Cook 

East Phoenix Geneva Cluff 

East Sharon Wanda Kelly 

Glendale Edythe M. Fairbanks 

Granite Jane Henry 

Grant Odell Overly 

Highland Lucille M. Larsen 

Huntington Park Rachel Liston 

Inglewood Edith Pew 

Long Beach Erma Halls 

Malad Maude Y. Jensen 

Mesa South Myrna Skousen 

Napa LaVaun L. Allen 

North Tooele Mildred H. Sagers 

Norwalk Kathryn D. Mullikin 

Oakland-Berkeley LaVon B. Johnson 

Palmyra Eleanor D. Olsen 

Parleys - Genevieve M. Lewis 

Phoenix Alva Knight 

Phoenix West Geraldine Slaven 

Pocatello Alice Brandt 

Pomona Nora Perdue 

Redondo Nedra R. Stott 

St. Joseph Nira P. Lee 

Scottsdale Anna Lee Gooch 

Shelley June L. Walton 

South Box Elder Nila J. Stucki 

South Idaho Falls Alice Moss 

South Los Angeles Amelia Dellenbach 

South Salt Lake Hannah Dietrich 



Temple View Mabel E. Snow 

Torrance Ivy Higdon 

Wells Gertrude Fullmer 

Whittier Melba J. Huff 

Wilford Lila F. Madsen 

Woodruff Gladys K. GroU 

Zion Park Pearl W. Stratton 

Stakes by Percentages — 1963 

South Los Angeles 




Zion Park 


Huntington Park 








Lost River 


















San Diego East 


Santa Monica 


Las Vegas 


South Salt Lake 


South Bear River 






Bear River 


South Idaho Falls 


West Boise 


Lake Mead 










Canoga Park 






East Idaho Falls 


Monument Park 


Temple View 


Santa Maria 






















Long Beach 


Mt. Graham 
















Phoenix West 


Big Horn 




St. Joseph 




Mesa South 


San Diego 




Mt. Jordan 


San Joaquin 




New Orleans 




Idaho Falls 


North Seattle 




Lake View 






Mt. Rubidoux 






North Pocatello 




Phoenix North 




San Fernando 


Brigham City 






East Jordan 




Star Valley 


East Phoenix 


St. Louis 




North Box Elder 


Twin Falls 


Columbia River 




Weber Heights 












Box Elder 


Santa Barbara 










Grand Junction 










South Box Elder 






West Covina 


North Tooele 





MAY 1964 

East Mesa 101 

East Sharon 101 

Juab 101 

Pasadena 101 

Potomac 101 

Santa Rosa 101 

Burbank 100 

Park 100 

Reno North 100 

San Diego South 100 

San Jose West 100 

Southern Arizona 100 

West Utah 100 

East Rigby 99 

Gridley 99 

Hayward 99 

Kansas City 99 

Ogden 99 

Panguitch 99 

St. George East 99 

Uvada 99 

Yellowstone 99 

American Falls 98 

Chicago 98 

Detroit 98 

East Millcreek 98 

Granite Park 98 

Idaho 98 

Las Vegas North 98 

Olympus 98 

St. George 98 

St. Johns 98 

San Bernardino 98 

Spanish Fork 98 

Wind River 98 

East Long Beach 97 

East Provo 97 

Grand Coulee 97 

Granger 97 

Great Falls 97 

Juarez 97 

New Jersey 97 

North Jordan 97 

North Rexburg 97 

Riverton 97 

South Summit 97 

Sugar House 97 

Bannock 96 

Farr West 96 

Garden Grove 96 

Raft River 96 

Sacramento 96 
South Cottonwood 96 

Teton 96 

Tooele 96 

Washington 96 
East Los Angeles 95 

Emigration 95 

Los Angeles 95 

Mt. Logan 95 

Nampa 95 

Orange County 95 

San Juan 95 

Blackfoot 94 

Calgary 94 

Cottonwood 94 

Denver West 94 

Kolob 94 

Milwaukee 94 
North Idaho Falls 94 

Puget Sound 94 

Riverdale 94 

Salt Lake 94 

San Leandro 94 

Santa Ana 94 

Covina 93 

Oneida 93 

Pikes Peak 93 

Riverside 93 

San Mateo 93 

Springville 93 

Valley View 93 

West Sharon 93 

Winder 93 

Alberta 92 

Cache 92 

Cedar 92 

East Pocatello 92 

Logan 92 

Moroni 92 

Nebo 92 

San Francisco 92 

Canyon Rim 91 

Deseret 91 

Missoula 91 

Monterey Bay 91 

Roy 91 

Salmon River 91 

Seattle 91 

Weiser 91 





East Ogden 


El Paso 




Portland West 


South Blackfoot 


South Davis 




West PocateUo 






Cedar West 


Chicago South 








University West 






Bountiful East 










North Davis 


North Sacramento 


North Weber 


San Luis Obispo 














East Cache 




Granger North 








Rose Park 




Washington Terrace 87 

American Fork 


Bountiful South 






Monument Pk. West 86 





San Luis 86 
Santaquin-Tintic 86 

Summit 86 

Alpine 85 

Bountiful 85 

Butte 85 

Honolulu 85 

Lorin Farr 85 

Mt. Ogden 85 

New York 85 

North Carolina 85 

Oklahoma 85 

South Ogden 85 

Wayne 85 

American River 84 

Beaver 84 

Ben Lomond 84 

Blaine 84 

Cascade 84 

Melbourne 84 

Palo Alto 84 

Sandy 84 

Tampa 84 

Bear Lake 83 

Corvallis 83 

Davis 83 

Grantsville 83 

Layton 83 

Redding 83 

San Jose 83 

Smithfield 83 

Butler 82 

Murray South 82 

West Jordan 82 

Carbon 81 

Klamath 81 

Midvale 81 

North Sevier 81 

Roosevelt 81 

Sharon 81 

South Sanpete 81 

Weber 81 

Atlanta 80 

Millard 80 

Raleigh 80 

Walnut Creek 80 

Clearfield 79 

Flagstaff 79 

Lyman 79 

Murray 79 

Pioneer 79 

South Sevier 79 

Spokane 79 

Yakima 79 
Ben Lomond South 78 

Craig 78 

Fresno East 78 

Kaysville 78 

Lehi 78 

Minnesota 78 

Morgan 78 

Vancouver 78 

North Carbon 77 

North Sanpete 77 

Tulsa 77 

Cleveland 76 

Garfield 76 

Kearns 76 

Leicester 76 

Lewiston 76 

Miami 76 

Auckland 75 





Bountiful North 




Coeur d'Alene 




South Carohna 


Winter Quarters 


Kearns North 




San Antonio 










Orem West 










South Carohna West 67 

Pearl Harbor 






Fort Wayne 


Sandy East 














Limited Participai 






Utah State Univ. 


Prayer for People 

Gilean Douglas 

For all the lost and lonely, 
The weary and unwise, 
Lord, send them hands to hold to 
And understanding eyes. 

Your sky is benediction, 
Its stars light up the night — 
And, oh, the blessed comfort 
Of a neighbor's candlelight. 


MAY 1964 


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The Right Key 

Luella Foster 

"HEN John Burroughs once visited the Mammoth Cave of Kentucky, 
he marveled, as many have, at the echoing rocks around him. When 
the guide called out, in his heavy bass voice, the sound reverberated, but 
when John Burroughs tried, he could not strike the right note and the 
rocks were dumb. After several trials, when only flat, dead sounds re- 
echoed, a beautiful sound, as of wild, sweet violins was heard. At last he 
had found the right key and the rocks had resounded like the strings of 
a harp. 

How many of us often fail to strike the right key and fail to obtain 
the response that we are striving for. 

This may apply to so many things: to our families at home, especially 
our children; to our classes; to all our associates. Sometimes, the correct 
approach is more important than we realize. Establishing a suitable back- 
ground first is usually necessary. We must find the right key before the 
desired returns can be expected. 

Most of us have learned to practice this in our daily contacts. At least, 
we realize the need for it. We know that we obtain the best response when 
we have used the magic key. It may be one of many virtues, but I believe 
that consideration of others encompasses them all: living the Golden Rule, 
doing unto others as we would be done by. It doesn't cost us anything to 
be polite, to be kind, to show appreciation, to be helpful, or a dozen other 

The life of Jesus shows us what he used for the magic key. By a 
constant study of the scriptures, we, too, may always hope to have it. 

Whom Should I Seek? 

Blanche Briggs 

T asked a friend's pardon for a mistake I made . . . but the seed was 
-■- planted. I asked a loved one's forgiveness for a wrong I had done, but 
the seed in the furrow was deep. 

I pondered long to make amends, but to no avail. 
So I prayed to my Heavenly Father for guidance and comfort. Joy and 
comfort and a peaceful mind were given me. 

Who can deny there is a Supreme Being? 

Dear Lord, bless those who have not contact with the Holy Spirit 
and cannot see the truth before it is too late. 



Olive Sharp 

THE Book of Mormon says, "Men are that they might have joy." Then we must 
look on the bright side of every event and have faith in God who knows what 
he is doing. If we have faith and ask for his guidance everyday, someday we will 

How can anyone be downcast? We mortals can only see the present and the 
past, but not the future. God alone can see that. So we must have faith in him. 

We should look and see the beauty all around us, the mountains, the rivers, the 
flowers, the trees, and the birds that are so beautiful. We should see and protect all 
the beauty in the world about us. 

If we should catch ourselves finding fault with our friends, we should stop and 
consider that we do not understand their circumstances, and try to find something good 
about them, or do some kindness for them. Let us do this now, for we shall not pass 
this way again. 

I try to search out the lovely promises in the scriptures, such as the beautiful 
Twenty-Third Psalm, and I also like the 121st. They are so full of comfort and 
beauty, and while I am on the subject of beauty, there is something which I must not 
skip. I have subscribed for The Relief Society Magazine for many years and send seven 
Magazines for Christmas presents to relatives in Alaska, South America, California, and 
to a favorite cousin in South Dakota who is not of our faith, but who reads every 
article. The covers are so beautiful, there can be no question about that, as she 
wrote, "I have the April cover framed and hanging in my room. They are all so 
beautiful that I would not know which to frame." 

There are several ways we can dispose of The Reliei Society Magazine which will 
bring joy to many people when we have finished studying the lessons. We can take 
them to some rest home or hospital or give them to some friend who docs not sub- 
scribe. I have gathered the Magazines and taken them to a rest home, and the 
attendant at the desk said they were more than pleased to have them, and the women 
always looked anxiously for the next ones. 

I always try to put my best foot forward, but sometimes get my feet mixed up. 

Double Your Pleasure — 
Double Your Subscription 

Ouida Johns Pedersen 

Many times I buy paper-backed editions of books I wish to read, then when I am 
finished with them, I feel I can afford to give them away to others. When they have 
completed them, I ask them to pass the books along to someone else. This way, I 
feel that I really get the most value for my money. 

The other day I had a wonderful idea that some of the sisters might like to share. 
Why not get a double subscription to the Relief Society Magazine? I am always wanting 
to cut something out, a recipe or an apt quotation from an inspirational article. Some 
times, I would like to share the recipes with a friend, or send a poem to someone I 
feel might enjoy it. At the same time, I want to save my Magazines for future lesson 
material and reference. The modest price of the magazine makes this a little luxury 
I can indulge myself in without feeling guilty. This year why not "Double your 
pleasure," double your subscription! 




Geri£ral Secretary -Treasurer Hulda Parker 

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 January 1958, page 47, and 
in the Relief Society Handbook of Instmctions. 


Northeast British Mission Relief Society Conference 
August 10, 1963 

Naomi D. Thorn, President, Northeast British Mission Relief Society, 

"In our August conference, we shared a day of knowledge, mixed with 
talents. Sister Esther Harmer showed us new ideas in bread and roll making. 
Our spiritual appetites were filled as the previews of the year's lessons were 
presented. 'A stitch in time saves nine' could have been our theme for the 
highlight of our day's activities. Sister Jean Law demonstrated quilt making, 
which is a new idea for our English saints. Musical numbers and inspiring 
words from our leaders and sisters of the various districts renewed our desire 
to serve and share our Relief Society with others." 



North Weber Stake (Utah) Homemakers' Talent Festival 
September 13, 1963 

Ward work meeting leaders and stake work meeting leaders grouped around 
display tables of articles made in Relief Society work meetings, left to right: 
Esther Dance, West Weber Ward; Elaine Wade, Warren Ward; Opal Hammer, 
Taylor Ward; Jo Anne Wilson, West Warren Ward; Lillian Thompson, Ogden 
Forty-sixth Ward Work Director Counselor; Dorothea Douglas, Ogden Six- 
teenth Ward; June Timmreck, Wilson Ward; Chloe Sessions, Ogden Third 
Ward; Martha Vaughn, Ogden Tenth Ward; Bertha Hadley, stake work meet- 
ing leader. 

Gladys P. Wayment, President, North Weber Stake Relief Society, reports: 
"We held a very successful Talent Festival, September 13, 1963. A special fea- 
ture was the display of articles made in Relief Society work meetings. On dis- 
play were many beautiful quilts, rugs, knitted and crocheted articles, pictures, 
wall plaques, and paintings; interesting conversation pieces; a group of made- 
over articles; antiques and heirlooms, including treasured pieces of china, an- 
tique furniture, shawls, and clothing. 

"From The Relief Society Magazine, we chose cookie recipes, from which 
many varieties of cookies were made by the wards, and these were served with 
sherbet, as refreshments for the occasion. Printed booklets, containing the 
recipes of all the different cookies, were presented to all those who attended. An 
interesting display was a welfare table, showing a year's supply of food for one 
individual, with literature and information on storage available to everyone. In 
the foyer was a festival of learning on parade, where lovely displays of all the 
lesson departments, music, and the Magazine were featured. As our festival 
was held through the late afternoon and the evening, many members of the 
Priesthood attended with the sisters. They expressed themselves as pleased 
with the accomplishments of the Relief Society. We were most honored to have 
Sister Louise W. Madsen of the General Board attend the festival. This was 
one of the most outstanding and best attended events we have held, and we 
were very pleased with the efforts of all the wards." 


MAY 1964 

Noi^hvuestern States Mission, Mid-Columbia District Indian Articles on Display at 
« Friendship Day and Homemakers' Fair, The Dalles, Oregon, September 12, 1963 

Verna Geneal L. Wood, President, Northwestern States Mission Relief So- 
ciety, reports: "The Mid-Columbia District of the Northwestern States Mission 
sponsored a Friendship Day and Homemakers' Fair. The women's auxiliaries 
of other churches, and other women's groups in the area were invited to at- 
tend. Displays were made of Indian artifacts, painting, flower arrangements, 
ceramics, genealogy, Christmas suggestions, babies' world, toys, arts and crafts, 
quilts and pillows, fascinating foods, and partytime. 

"During the afternoon demonstrations were given on different types of 
parties, cake decorating, and homemade soap. A movie on figure flattery was 
shown before the fashion show of homemade clothing. Punch and cookies were 
served during the afternoon. Approximately one hundred women attended the 
function, and the reports from these women were most gratifying. The Mid- 
Columbia District is composed of branches at The Dalles, Oregon; Glendale, 
Klickitat, White Salmon, and Stevenson, Washington. It covers an area of about 
one hundred miles, and has 129 Relief Society members. The district officers 
are: President Laurel Scholes; Education Counselor Farris Jolley; Work 
Director Counselor Vonda Emmett; Secretary-Treasurer Velma Page; music di- 
rector Lucille Harshburger." 

Southwest British Mission, First Singing Mothers Chorus Organized 

In Cornwall, July 1963 

Front row, left to right: Thelma Lashmore; Maureen Paddy; Gladys 
Hailey; Evelyn Bunny. 

Second row, left to right: Vera Butler (missionary-director) ; Annie 
Miners; Netti'e Roberts; Else Wall; Gyneith Thomas; Rahil Harris. 

Back row: left to right: Joy Bone; Elizabeth Harvey; Monica Webb; 
Emma Lou Webb (missionary) ; Anne Webb; Joyce Deste; Veoma Done 
(missionary and district board member). 

Elaine B. Curtis, President, Southwest British Mission Relief Society, 
reports: "Since the organization of this chorus, the sisters have been called 
upon to sing several times for various occasions within the mission. They sang 
for a Relief Society leadership meeting and genealogical convention held in 
Plymouth, England, traveling more than 150 miles by rail, bus, and car, and 
paying their own expenses." 

Indianapolis Stake (Indiana) Visiting Teacher Convention, October 12, 1963 

Left to right, front row: Marguerite Oniones, Work Director Counselor; 
Joan Griesemer, Education Counselor; Beverly Ferguson, President. 

Sister Ferguson reports: "A wonderful time was had by the sisters who 
attended the visiting teacher convention, October 12, 1963, the theme of which 
was 'Love.' The convention was highlighted by words of wisdom and encourage- 
ment from the Relief Society advisor Elder Vern Hobson. 

"Relief Society pins were awarded to Marian Hobson, in appreciation for 
her fifty-six years of active service, and to Ethel Buttons, eighty-one years old, 
for being the oldest active visiting teacher in the stake. The centerpieces, made 
by the wards and branches, portraying love of service, home, Relief Society, 
education, neighbors, country, God, activity, music, virtue, beauty, and visiting 
teaching helped to make an already delicious luncheon even more delightful. 
We were made more aware of the importance of visiting teaching from the light- 
er side by the skit 'If the Shoe Fits, Wear It,' and songs entitled 'Excuses' and 
'Go, Go, Go and Teach.' 

"The sweet spirit of love was present throughout the convention, which gave 
each sister a stronger determination to fulfill her responsibilities as a visiting 


,.^T,-, ---t ■ -K . . 

MAY 1964 

Maricopa Stake (Arizona) Singing Mothers Present Music for Inter-Faith Social 
"Meet My Neighbor," October 25, 1963 

At the right, front row, chorister Nathal Fuller; at the left in the back row, 
Alta Standage, organist; Goddess of Liberty, Verna Randall. 

Mildred B. Jarvis, President, Maricopa Stake Relief Society, reports: 
"Members of the Maricopa Stake Relief Society had an opportunity to become 
better acquainted with both nonmember neighbors, and also those members of 
the Church who have not been active, at an Inter-Faith Social 'Meet My Neigh- 
bor,' held October 25, 1963. Members of each ward were invited to bring friends 
and neighbors to the stake program. Invitations, together with a brief explana- 
tion of the Relief Society program, were sent to service and cultural clubs, and 
to the wives of city and school officials. 

"The very stimulating and informative program presented the origin and 
purpose of Relief Society, with emphasis on service. The script was written by 
Nedra Lundberg. Music for the program was furnished by the Maricopa Stake 
Singing Mothers, who had joined with other stakes of Arizona to sing at the 
October General Conference in the Tabernacle in Salt Lake City. 

"One of the most impressive parts of the program was the display of handi- 
work made by the sisters of all the wards in the stake. This drew praise especial- 
ly from the nonmembers who attended the presentation. An atmosphere of 
warmth and friendliness was set by the decor, with autumn colors and floral 
arrangements setting the theme. Stake board members and ward Relief Society 
presidents, who were serving as hostesses, wore name cards decorated with 
yellow chrysanthemums, tied with a single blue bow. Decorations on the re- 
freshment tables in the cultural hall included dry arrangements in their natural 
coloring, with accents of gold. 

"The expressions of the guests and members, alike, reflected the spirit of 
neighborliness and sisterhood which prevailed throughout the social. Many 
hearts were touched and eyes opened to the rewarding experiences offered 
through the educational and work programs of Relief Society." 

New England Mission, Southern Maine Singing Mothers at "Keynote Meeting" 

September 1, 1963 

Ann N. Madsen, President, New England Mission Relief Society, reports: 
" 'He That Is Faithful Shall Be Made Strong' was the theme of the New Eng 
land Mission Primary-Relief Society Conference. As each sister entered the 
Cambridge chapel she was given a name tag, a blue link printed with the words 
'A Strong Link' to highlight the fact that a chain is only as strong as its 
weakest link. 

"The Relief Society keynote meeting began at 12:30 P.M. After Sister Mad- 
sen had welcomed the sisters, a skit was presented by the mission officers called 
'This Is New England. You Are There!' The props for this skit were royal 
blue curtains on either side of a regular door marked 'Your Sister Lives Here.' 
The voices in the skit came from 'all over New England,' but no one was seen 
to be speaking. The skit consisted of a 'before and after' series of events taken 
from real life here in New England, showing what Relief Society, in all its phas- 
es, can do to help the sisters, particularly those who sit behind closed doors and 
never see or hear from us. 

"Next the sisters moved into the cultural hall, where cake decorating, quilt- 
ing, smocking, rug hooking, wreaths and trees made of white and dyed turkey 
feathers were being demonstrated and patterns were being ordered. During this 
time the sisters were encouraged to sit down and learn 'how' on the spot. Many 
beautiful displays, with clever bazaar ideas, were set up. All of the displays 
were linked together with large chain links in varied colors. 

"After the departments and class work, all reassembled in the chapel to 
hear and see an Inter- Faith Social demonstration featuring the Singing Mothers 
of the Southern Maine District. President Truman G. Madsen then gave in- 
spired counsel, and the last forty-five minutes were spent in testimony bearing." 


«r»~"'*^f» ft 



Western States Mission, Longmont (Colorado) Branch Presents Fashion Show 

September 26, 1963 

At left: Mindi Dawn Fenton, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Darrell Fenton; 
right: Elnor Dagle, eighty-five, first president of Longmont Branch Rehef 

Hazel Davis, President, Western States Mission (Relief Society), reports 
an unusually interesting event in the Longmont Branch: "The fact that we can 
dress smartly and modestly without being extravagant was beautifully demon- 
strated with a show of ready-to-wear fashions, which included styles for chil- 
dren. Two of the outstanding models were little Mindi Dawn Fenton and Elnor 
Dagle, eighty-five. Sister Dagle presented the highlight of the show when she 
wore the ninety-year-old, handmade wedding gown pictured. 

"Preceding the style review, each of the class leaders presented a brief out- 
line of the material to be covered in her department during the year. In this 
small branch, it is recognized that it is important to reach out to the inactive 
and nonmember sisters and acquaint them with Relief Society work. The at- 
tendance was extremely gratifying, and the success of the social has been re- 
flected in the attendance and enthusiasm at weekly meetings. 

"Among those who appeared and presented the program were: Cleta Fenton, 
President, Longmont Branch Relief Society; Regina Turner, Second Counselor; 
LaVonne Ward, Secretary-Treasurer; Dorothy Backman, work meeting leader; 
and LaDonna Plowman, whose lovely home was the setting for the program." 



Ida G. Hcpwoith 

It Rained Last Night 

LAST night a gentle rain came into my garden as qnietly as an Master liunny. I'liis 
morning I am an old prospector with a new discovery. I have found that my 
garden is completely covered with snn diamonds. The clean green of the grass, and 
the forget-me-not blue of the sky make a perfect setting for the beginning of a new 

The new leaves on the rosebushes have been washed to the color of a half-ripened 
plum. The painted daisies and the columbines have already dropped their jewels and 
are standing erect, looking at the sun. A few clusters of sweet rocket, half hidden in 
the shrubbery, are trying to throw back their shoulders and, with the help of some 
bridal wreath fronds, will soon be ready to greet the morning — but the hcaxy-hcarted 
peonies are still looking at their feet. 

As I look at the beauty of the earth this morning, I am glad that I have taken the 
time out of a busy life to plant a back-yard garden, just because . . . it rained last night. 

Yes, I Think I Would 

/^FTEN in coftversation I find myself telling of the things we used to do when we 
^-^ were children, and I am just as often asked if I would like to go back to those 
days. I sometimes think I would. 

I would like to see a doll as pretty as my pink and white hollyhock dolls with 
their green currant heads. 

I would like to smell anything as sweet as crushed mint that grew knee-high along 
the creek bank where I could snuggle low and could not be found by the hunter of 
the "hide and seek" game. 

I would like to go with my older brothers and sisters, each with a gunny sack 
and a lunch, to gather dried sticks from brush or trees over in the mill claim (it was 
"milk lane" to my childish ears), the dried sticks to be used for kindling wood. 

I would like to gather sweet peas, lady-slippers, daffodils, and bluebells in the 
brush, and blue and yellow violets that grew on the mossy banks of a crystal stream 
that ran through the field nearby. 

I would like to feel the security that was mine as I ran breathless into an imaginary 
fort for protection from the enemies in the small clearing in the oak brush where we 
had our playhouses and witches' dens. ?-'' 

I would like to repeat with the same awed feeling (as we Primary children knelt 
at the heavy wooden benches), a simple and understanding prayer given by Sister Dustin, 
mother of B. H. Roberts. 

I would like to taste an apple like the ones kicked up in early spring from the 
heavily leaf-bedded fence row of wild plums and apple trees — a veritable forest for 

I would love some molasses candy made from the skimmings of my grandfather's 
molasses mill, a black currant roly-poly pudding, and a thin cake just tossed into the 

Life goes on and is still beautiful, but these are a few of the memories that make 
me sometimes answer, "Yes, J Think I Would." 


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There is a memory 
Defying time and place: 
Tall mountain tops that lean 
Against the high, blue space 
Of sky, where thunderheads 
Build up each summer noon. 
There is a canyon green, 
And meadows over-strewn 
With bluebells and wild flags. 
A little ice-cold stream 
Flows noisily along 
The middle of my dream. 


21 days — June 21 to July 11: 

World's Fair, Church historical places 

(does not include pageant). 

27 days — July 13 to August 8: 
World's Fair, Church historical places. 
Includes Hill Cumorah Pageant. Also, 
Quebec and Montreal, Canada. 

24 days — July 23 to August 15: 
World's Fair, Church historical places, 
including Hill Cumorah Pageant. 

16 days — July 25 to August 9 World's 
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Rockettes, Top Broadway Show and a 
special event ticket at World's Fair, etc. 

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Summer Song 

Llnnle F. Robinson 

The apple trees are dappled silver 
This afternoon of waning spring; 
The cherries hang in shining rows 
And all the birds have come to sing. 

The dahlias push up mighty shoots 
Where gladiolas knife the loam; 
And mountain shadows beckon me 
To follow if I chance to roam. 

I marvel that I view this day, 
New as when light was first unrolled; 
This morning's red and fiery shafts 
Turn evening lowlands into gold. 

And ail around where I can see — 
Such beauty makes me sing a song; 
I hear it in the harp-like trees 
And in the grasses, lithe and long. 


We Pass But Once 

Catherine B. Bowles 

The evening shades had fallen 

And my long day's work was done. 

Was I a little better 

Than when my labors had begun? 

Had kindly words been spoken, 

Had a heart been filled with cheer, 

Had I lent a helping hand 

To my neighbors who live near — 

Helped them to seek for blessings 

Richly given from above? 

Then my life would be uplifted 

And I would share with them my love. 

For life holds such lovely things — 

My heart is grateful for the joy it brings. 

Shape of Time 

Thelma J. Lund 

Within these walls we kept 
Our treasure on shelves of time. 
Here in this room we slept, 
Waking to morning's climb. 

Though our shape of time be lost, 
Who will know or tell 
If the house, wind-whispering, mossed, 
Is ruin or citadel? 

Unsaid Words 

Zara Sabin 

There is no song that larks can sing. 
No perfume roses shed, 
That takes the place within our lives 
Of loving words, unsaid. 




March and October 


April — June — Nov. — Jan. — Feb. — March 




July New York V/orld's Fair — 
Daily Departures via Bus-Air-Train 


June and September 




14 South Main Street 

Salt Lake City 




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struction of each month's Relief Society Maga- 
zine is in a handsomely bound cover. The 
Mountain West's first and finest bindery and 
printing house is prepared to bind your editions 
into a durable volume. 

Mail or bring the editions you wish bound to 
the Deseret News Press for the finest of service. 

Cloth Cover — $2.75; Leather Cover — $4.20 
Advance payment must accompany all orders. 

Please include postage according to table listed 
below if bound volumes are to be mailed. 

Postage Rates from Salt Lake City, Utah 

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<i^?^^ C^^&i^gi^fe^iife?^ 

One Hundred 

Mrs. Mary Bell Felt Young 
Salt Lake City, Utah 


Mrs. Ella Georgina Keel 
Spanish Fork, Utah 

Mrs. Annie Wood Westover 
Mesa, Arizona 


Mrs. Rhoda Tanner 
Salt Lake City, Utah 

Mrs. Nancy Hammer Mathews 
Shelley, Idaho 


Mrs. Mattie F. Pettis Allen 
Van Nuys, California 


Mrs. Sorena J. Larsen 
Salt Lake City, Utah 


Mrs. Emma Butler Maxfield 
Bakersfield, California 

Mrs. Lois Ann Stevens Tanner Brady 
Salt Lake City, Utah 

Mrs. Sarah Jane Roach Bowers 
Burley, Idaho 


Mrs. Anna Ediing Wahlquist 
Salt Lake City, Utah 

Mrs. Agnes Mary Horsley Gubler 
Lund, Nevada 

Mrs. Emma Clark Judd 
Magrath, Alberta, Canada 

Mrs. Elizabeth Barfuss Christensen 
Logan, Utah 

Mrs. Catherine Carlson Johnson 
Ovid, Idaho 

Mrs. Marie Parker Russell 
Ogden, Utah 

Mrs. Christina Wayment 
Ogden, Utah 

Mrs. Naomi Taylor Coon 
Magna, Utah 

My Mother 

Christie Lund Coles 

Her hands were smooth and delicate as light, 
Or daisies moving softly in the night; 

Or water lilies waxen in the sun. 

How many acts of love those hands have done. 

Her feet were never dressed for beauty's sake: 
She needed comfort shoes of special make. 

Her feet were sturdy feet, or seemed to be. 
How many miles those feet have gone for me. 







MY FATHER-Madsen 20 


O LORD I GO— Schumann 20 

PEACE OF MIND-Stickles 25 


TELLING-Haydn 25 

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FOR JOY-Stephens 20 

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There will be several tours to the 

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1. IrlL rALLALY by Ahm R.Dyer 

An interesting analysis and comparison of 
the doctrines of two churches . . . the Church 
of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and the 
Reorganized Church. Elder Dyer, an Assist- 
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scholarship and extensive knowledge to this 
masterly study. 



by Reed H. Bradford 

Using his professional knowledge together 
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>_ . ♦' 


^m ^^ 


^iP*"" -^f^ *t^^^P^"^BNBli. JuiiBfc 1 


Relief Society^ 


Volume 51 
Number 6 
June 1964 
iLesson Previews^ 



* ^^, . * , 7W3: 


Shirley M. Howard 

Once earth 

Called to me, 

"Be a tree, 

Be a tree." 

Acorn — I answered 

With a leaf, 

A stem. 

And a brief 

Root shooting down; 


A young trunk 

Bending in the wind. 

And a 

New limb strong 

Enough for just a bird 

And a song. 

Now I 

Have heard 

A thousand songs, 


In a thousand winds 

And a 

Thousand leaves 


Through my 


My roots 

Lie deep 

And I keep 


That when 

One is tall 

The shadowfall 

Is long 


An afternoon. 

The Cover: 


Art Layout: 

Lake Tahoe, California-Nevada 
Transparency by Lucien Bown 
Lithographed in Full Color by Deseret News Press 

Crater Lake, Oregon 
Photograph by Don Knight 

Dick Scopes 

Mary Scopes 


Let me congratulate on the beauty 
of the Magazine. The March number 
is a dream in color. I loved the article 
and pictures (on roses) by L. Paul 
and Dorothy Roberts. Claire Noall's 
cover is outstanding. The article on 
painting with glass was very interest- 
ing and very colorful. Thanks, also, for 
the nice spots my poems have been 
given. I am thinking of having a series 
of full-page ones framed as keepsakes. 
Eva Willes Wangsgaard 

Ogden, Utah 

I have continued to enjoy The Re- 
lief Society Magazine very much and 
always eagerly wait for the next issue 
to come. I especially was very thrilled 
to see the lovely cover of the February 
issue of the scenery of Lahaina, Maui, 
Hawaii. This is my birthplace, and 
this is where I first heard the gospel 
from my cousin during one of my sum- 
mer vacations years ago. 

Ethel T. Kurihara 


Luzon District Relief Society 

Southern Far East Mission 

I especially appreciated Alice Bail- 
ey's poem "Curled in Seed" in the 
March issue of the Magazine. It was 
full of beauty, as was Tom Elliott's 
color transparency of the Matterhorn. 
Leona Fetzer Wintch 
Manti, Utah 

As I read the article "Don't You 
Just Love Your Sisters!" in the March 
issue of the Magazine, by Margaret 
Russell, I was reminded of the close- 
ness of my mother and sisters and am 
grateful for the sisterhood we have. 
Since I do not live close around my 
mother and sisters or sisters-in-law, I 
have more and more appreciated the 
sisterhood in Relief Society, and no 
matter where we have lived. Relief 
Society has brought this sisterhood to 
me. Our beloved Magazine shares this 
sisterhood with the dear members in 
many lands. 

Ida Mae F. Dahl 

Boise, Idaho 

I hope we will have more of the 
speech articles by Myrtle E. Hender- 
son (March 1964). They are what we 
all need. 

Pearl H. Saunders 

Ogden, Utah 

I surely enjoyed the speech articles 
in the March Relief Society Magazine. 
I hope such articles will be continued. 
Mrs. Verna Ross 

Salt Lake City, Utah 

The article on speech (by Myrtle E. 
Henderson) in the March issue of The 
Relief Society Magazine is much ap- 
preciated, and I hope the subject will 
be continued in future issues. 

Mrs. Opal Saunders 

Vale, Oregon 

I have just finished reading "Don't 
You Just Love Your Sisters!" by 
Margaret Russell in the March issue 
of the Magazine. As the mother of a 
family of five "little sisters," whose 
father is also a Wyoming schoolteach- 
er, it was like reading a forecast of the 
future. The whole Magazine each 
month is a gem. 

Kathleen Gregory 

La Grange, Wyoming 

I enjoy the Magazine very much. 
The lessons are wonderful. Living in 
the mission field, I think the Magazine 
means much more to us. 

Sylvia J. Harris 

Red Wing, Minnesota 

I love and enjoy the Magazine! The 
messages and stories are so inspiring. 
Bonnie S. Hansen 
Munich, Germany 

The Relief Society Magazine has 
meant many enjoyable hours of read- 
ing for my husband and myself. It 
has been helpful in many ways. The 
March issue is very beautiful, with its 
poems and pictures of flowers. 

Mrs. Frank Goodwin 
Wheeling, West Virginia 



R^li^ff Society Magazine 


Editor Marianne C. Sharp Associate Editor Vesta P. Crawford 
General Manager Belle S. Spafford 

Special Features 

404 Birthday Congratulations to Emma Ray Riggs McKay 

406 Paul H. Dunn Appointed to the First Council of Seventy 

408 You, Dear Friends Leone O. Jacobs 

410 My English Textbook Martha Weyland Paulsen 

422 Emily Dickinson — "Occupation — Keeps House" Laurel Ulrich 

450 Annual Report for 1963 Hulda Parker 


412 The Sheep That Strayed on Sunday Helen Nielson 

425 Your Heart to Understanding — Chapter 5 Hazel M. Thomson 

General Features 

402 From Near and Far 

418 Editorial: The 134th Annual General Church Conference 

420 In Memoriam — Gladys P. Young 

421 Woman's Sphere Raniona W. Cannon 
460 Notes From the Field Hulda Parker 
480 Birthday Congratulations 

Thie Home - Snside and Out 

Hobbies: Gretchen Stratton Makes Prize- Winning Pillows; Anna Marie Richins — Expert in 
Handicraft, 430; Happiness in Flower Arranging, by Maude W. Howard, 431; "Parchment" 
Correspondence Cards, by Peggy Tangren, 436; Relief Society Silver Service, College Park 
Ward, Washington Stake, 439; Plan for Your Bazaar in the Summertime, 440; An Evening 
Skirt, by Olive W. Burt, 442; Favors in Watermelon Design, 443; Ribbon-Covered Fruits and 
Ornaments, by RaNae Gledhill, 444; Clothing for the Very Young, by Helen Lach, 446. 

Lesson Department - Preview for 1964-65 

467 Theology — The Doctrine and Covenants Roy W. Doxey 

469 Visiting Teacher Messages — Truths to Live By From the Doctrine and Covenants 
Christine H. Robinson 

471 Work Meeting — Molding a Happy Life Winnifred C. Jardine 

472 Literature — The Individual and Human Values As Seen Through Literature 

Bruce R. Clark 
474 Social Science — Divine Law and Church Government Ariel S. Ballif 


401 The Shadowfall Shirley M. Howard 

Always the Moment, by Lael W. Hill, 420; Tide Turn, by Marjorie Newton, 424; 
Airborne Heritage, by Viola Ashton Candland, 449; Night, by Ida Elaine James, 
477; Bird Song, by Evelyn Fjeldsted, 478; One Year Old, by Christie Lund Coles, 
479; The Secret, by Eleanor W. Schow, 479; Enchanted, by Vesta N. Fairbairn, 

Published monthly by THE GENERAL BOARD OF RELIEF SOCIETY of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. © 1964 by 
the Relief Society General Board Association. Editorial ond Business Office: 76 North Moin, Salt Lake City, Utah 84111; Phone EMpire 
4-2511; Subscriptions 2642; Editorial Dept. 2654. Subscription Price $2 00 a year; foreign, $2.00 o year; 20c a copy, payable in ad- 
vance. The Magazine is not sent after subscription expires. No bock numbers con 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 rote of postage provided 
for in section 1103, Act of October 8, 1917, authorized June 29, 1918. Manuscripts will not be returned unless return postoge is 
enclosed. Rejected manuscripts will be retained for six months only. The Magazine is not responsible for unsolicited manuscripts. 

to Emma Ray Riggs McKay 

June 23, 1964 

At this season of the year when summer is rich and beautiful upon the northern 
lands, and winter rests upon the southern hemisphere, the women of the Church 
in many lands extend birthday greetings to Sister Emma Ray Riggs McKay, wife of 
our beloved Prophet, President David 0. McKay. It is with rejoicing and sincere 
gratitude that the world-wide sisterhood, separated by mountains and oceans, 
yet united in the spirit of the restored gospel, pay tribute to the lovely woman 
who represents for them a worthy ideal of Latter-day Saint womanhood, which, 
with continuing devotion, they may strive to emulate. 

Realizing the ever-increasing complexity of life upon the earth today, and 
knowing full well the many voices that call out to women for their time, their 
energy, and their attention, the women of the Church are especially grateful that 
an example of wisdom, strength, serenity, and high purpose has been given them 
in the life of a truly great woman who has demonstrated the most important and 
far-reaching accomplishments of womanhood. 

Sister JVIcKay has often said that she owes much of her fundamental atti- 
tudes, as well as her habits of personal discipline and performance to the training 
and example which her mother placed before her. These attributes, a heritage 
from her childhood home, Sister McKay has described as courage, cheerfulness, 
patience, affection, kindness, understanding, and homemaking ability. 

Each of these qualities has been magnified by Sister McKay, and all have 
been given in generous measure to her family, her friends, and to the women of 
the Church. 

Courage has been consistently manifest in her life, particularly on those 
many and prolonged occasions when her husband has been traveling in far places, 
carrying abroad the gospel message. At such times the quiet courage of Sister 
McKay was so deeply felt by the children in the home that they have said, in later 
years, that it seemed, through the courage and faith and prayers of their mother, 
that the influence and love and protection of their father was actually present in 
the home. 

Many of the responsibilities that come to women as mothers and homemak- 
ers, and in their relationships with other women, are greatly enhanced by the 
buoyant quality of cheerfulness that minimizes present difficulties and sheds a 
glowing light upon the morning that is sure to come. Such has been the pervad- 
ing light and radiance in the presence of Sister McKay. 

Her patience has long been admired and appreciated by her family and by 
all her associates — a patience that has been upheld by enduring faith and the be- 
lief that when one has chosen well a lifetime pattern, then patience and endur- 
ance are part of that pathway. 

Truly it may be said that the desire and ability to give love and affection 
are rare gifts, and most worthy of cultivation. Affection and love for those near 
and dear to Sister McKay and for the women of the Church and all others, have 
characterized the days and the years of the life of Sister McKay, exemplifying her 
own belief that "life's finest blessing is the ability to find joy in doing something 
for someone else." Her innate kindness seems to spring from a desire to help 
women to attain some of the rich blessings which have graced her own life. 

The making and keeping of a home have been to Sister McKay a sacred trust, 
and the rearing of 'children a privilege and a blessing. With President McKay she 
has traveled to many parts of the world, always taking with her "a message of 
peace and a prayer for the women of the world to make the best possible homes 
for their children." 

For her eighty-seventh birthday, the women of the Church extend to Sister 
McKay their love and appreciation and their wishes for her health and happiness. 


Paul Harold Dunn, a California 
educator, was appointed to the 
First Council of Seventy at the 
Monday morning session of the 
134th Annual General Conference 
of the Church, April 6, 1964, the 
closing day of Conference. His 
call fills the vacancy in the Coun- 
cil of Seventy occasioned by the 
death of Elder Levi Edgar Young, 
in December 1963. 

Elder Dunn was born in Provo, 
Utah, April 24, 1924, the second 
of three sons of Joshua Harold 
and Geneve Roberts Dunn. The 
family moved to California in 
1939, where Elder Dunn contin- 
ued his education. He received 
a B.A. degree in religion from 
Chapman College in 1953, and 
the next year he was awarded a 
Master's Degree in education 
from the University of Southern 
California. He received his doc- 
torate in educational administra- 
tion from the same institution in 

At the time of his appointment 
to the Council, he was an active 
seventy in the Downey Third 
Ward of Huntington Park Stake. 

Paul H. Dunn 


to the 

First Council of Seventy 

He became associated with the 
Church Education System in 
1952, as a seminary teacher in 
the Los Angeles area, and as vice- 
principal of the seminaries in that 
city in 1953-54. Later, he became 
assistant supervisor of the semi- 
naries of Southern California and 
served with great success in that 
capacity until 1956, when he was 
appointed director of the Univer- 
sity of Southern California Insti- 
tute of Religion. When called to 
be a General Authority, Elder 
Dunn was coordinator of the In- 
stitutes of Religion of Southern 
California. In this work, he has 
directed the activities of nine full- 
time and forty-one part-time 
institutes, with an estimated en- 
rollment of 2,500 students. His 
area of supervision included the 
institutes from Fresno, south to 
the Mexican border. 

Through his training and ex- 
perience as a counselor and friend 
of the youth of the Church, and 
by his enthusiasm, friendliness, 
spiritual qualities, and great en- 
ergy and ability. Elder Dunn has 
inspired and directed thousands 
of young people into the ways of 
usefulness and high endeavor in 
Church and community activi- 
ties. He has been untiring in his 
efforts to encourage young peo- 
ple to remain active in the Church 
organizations and to increase 



Elder Paul H. Dunn and his wife Jeanne Cheverton Dunn, with their daughters: 
Kellie (front, left); Janet (standing at the left), and Marsha (at the right). 

their understanding of the gospel 
so that their attitudes and under- 
standing of the gospel will enable 
them to be effective missionaries 
and exemplars of the teachings 
and principles of Latter-day Saint 

His participation in athletics, 
(baseball, golf, football, basket- 
ball and track), and sports dur- 
ing his high school and college 
years has enabled him to influ- 
ence many young men into taking 
part in such programs sponsored 
by the Church. 

Elder Dunn's maternal grand- 
father W. D. Roberts, and the 
i^randfather's brother E. L. Rob- 

erts, who for many years was 
head coach and athletic director 
at the Brigham Young University 
in Provo, Utah, were well known 
athletes and provided Elder Dunn 
with his heritage of interest. 

Elder Dunn's father passed 
away in December 1960. His 
mother and brothers and their 
families are living in California. 

Elder Dunn married Jeanne 
Alice Cheverton, whom he con- 
verted to the Church. They were 
sealed in the Arizona Temple, and 
are the parents of three daugh- 
ters: Janet Carolyn, sixteen; 
Marsha Jeanne, fourteen, and 
Kellie Colleen, four. 


Leone O. Jacobs 
Former Member, General Board of Relief Society 

Of all life's bounties, good 
friends I esteem to be one of the 
most precious. Without them how 
could we endure the heartaches, 
the disappointments, the illnesses 
to which we are prone in this 
mortal existence? And, likewise, 
how dispirited would be our joys 
and successes without friends 
with whom to share them? God 
was indeed kind when he made 
it possible and natural for us to 
associate with others of our own 

One wintry morning, having 
battled a stubborn virus for sev- 
eral days, the phone rang and a 
dear, familiar voice said over the 
wire, "I am planning to bring 
over your lunch. Will twelve- 
thirty be about the right time?" 
Immediately, a warm feeling 
came over me, the day seemed 
brighter, and my spirits rose per- 
ceptibly. Not necessarily because 
of the offer of food, but because 
my friend wished to do me a kind- 

One's friends are endowed with 
an amazing variety of tempera- 
ments and qualities of character, 
and each one adds much to life 
and makes of it an interesting 

and joyous experience. There are 
the old friends and the new 
friends, the casual friends, and 
the close confidants. Each fills 
a particular niche in one's life. 

Dear Mary seems always to be 
happy and full of wit. How I need 
her! To be in her presence is to 
have one's morale lifted skyward. 
Always an optimist, she carries 
burdens aplenty, though they are 
kept hidden from view. There is 
Norma, who is particularly warm 
and considerate, making me feel 
lam really necessary to her hap- 
piness — a rare gift to offer a 
friend. For many years Hazel and 
I have had a special common in- 
terest in our children, who grew 
up together as close friends, and 
we often match notes on their 
progress and relive the memories 
of their childhood antics. With 
Cora, I like, particularly, to talk 
over my serious and deeply spiri- 
tual questions. She has a wealth 
of knowledge and understanding 
of life's purposes, and she stimu- 
lates me to greater effort in well- 
doing. Darlene is such fun and 
yet so practical. I marvel at such 
a combination. Many are the 
times she has saved me from 



wasting precious time and effort 
on foolish endeavors. Dear Har- 
riet! I am so grateful she is just 
the way she is. So big-hearted, 
so free from prejudice and criti- 
cism of others. I feel completely 
relaxed in her company. And so, 
each one holds a special place in 
my heart! 

For old friends I have great af- 
fection. I do not refer to old in 
point of years, but in the length 
of our association. These are my 
childhood friends, the friends 
with whom I attended school, 
whose lives are known to me and 
mine to them. They know my 
family background, my teachers, 
my weaknesses and strengths, our 
Church and community activities. 
I shall never lose interest in these 
whose lives have been so intimate- 
ly interwoven with mine. It mat- 
ters not how divergent our paths 
have been in the intervening 
years. "We grew up together," I 
announce proudly when introduc- 
ing them to others. "We came 
from the same town." How won- 
derful that as we grow older the 
events we shared in bygone days 
remain clear! Precious, vivid 


Then there are the new friends 
one makes from time to time. 
What a delight, what an unex- 
pected pleasure is each one — an 
added gem in one's collection of 
blessings! To some we are im- 
mediately and mysteriously at- 
tracted, as if by a magnet. With 
such there need be no period of 
"getting acquainted." We are 
right away good friends. A choice 
experience it is to meet someone 
whose nature, we sense instinct- 
ively, will harmonize with our 
own! And what a happy prospect 

it is to realize that just any day 
we may meet some sweet person 
who will be a joy to us forever. 
For there is no quota on friend- 
ships. We may go on and on 
gathering them into our familiar 

The casual friends also bring 
happiness into our lives. How 
pleasant to meet acquaintances 
on the street or at a social func- 
tion, to receive a warm smile, a 
handshake, and a "How do you 
do? So nice to see you." One feels 
identified with his fellow beings 
and at one with the world. 

Then there are the friends one 
makes while serving in the 
Church. These are no doubt some 
of the choicest associations of all. 
How could individuals become 
closer than by being partners in 
the work of the Lord? There is 
so much in common; one's goals 
and standards are the same. One's 
best is expected and one's best 
is willingly given. The spirit of 
love is dominant, and a bond 
of fellowship develops that may 
last throughout eternity. 

And, lastly, there are the spe- 
cial few who are one's tried and 
true confidants, to whom one's 
innermost thoughts are confided, 
and in whom one puts his com- 
plete trust and love. These are 
as we imagine the Biblical friend- 
ship between David and Jona- 
than. Every person needs one or 
more such close friends. To be 
able to talk over one's problems 
with such a friend is of inestim- 
able value, a stabilizing and sus- 
taining influence. 

And so, truly grateful I am for 
friends — the new, the old, the 
tried, the true, and the ones who 
are to be. God bless them every 



Martha Weyland Paulsen 

Delivered in the Magazine Department Meeting of the ReUef Society 
Annual General Conference, October 3, 1963 

One evening as I sat resting after a busy day, contemplating the beautiful 
surroundings of the valley, in the stillness I heard the shriek of a siren. Soon 
the fire engine came rushing up the street. The thought came to me, what 
would I save, if my home was on fire? 

If the children were home, I would try to save them and myself. And if 
there were more time? Would I try to save furs, jewels (if I had any)? 

I would try to save treasured family pictures, some old letters from my 
mother and father. I would save a few prized books. The Relief Society 
Magazine (prime example). This volume especially. It is not especially 
beautiful to look at. It is not bound professionally. It is one of these "do it 
yourself projects." 

The story of my life is bound in this book. Here is a year's subscription 
of The Relief Society Magazine — the year 1928. 

When I was nineteen years of age the opportunity came to me to join two 
sisters and a brother in Salt Lake City, Utah. In Sweden I had what was 
considered a good position with the Telephone Company. I came here not 
knowing the language and could not hope for the same. I was employed with 
a lovely family. Here I learned the American way of life, for which I have 
always been grateful. I was paid $3 a week. On this I had to take care of my 
own needs and also start saving to bring a younger sister here from Sweden. 

I could not afford books to satisfy the desire for reading that my parents 
had given me. 

The first Sunday I was in Salt Lake City, some friends came to visit. 
One of them brought with him a stack of funny papers. Spreading some of 
them out on the floor, he said: "Come here, Martha, this is a good way to 
start learning a new language." Later that evening my sister said: "We have 
come here for the sake of the gospel, you will never learn about the gospel 
or the English language through the funny papers. Why not learn about the 
gospel at the same time you are learning a new language?" My sister brought 
out a few Relief Society Magazines. Together, we looked through them. She 
told me about the lesson department. I knew this was the plan my mother 
would want me to follow. The Relief Society Magazine became my English 

Many a lonely night I sat with a Swedish-English dictionary and my 
Relief Society Magazine, remembering what my Father used to say: "Every 
man worth his salt will have hardships to meet and temptations to battle." 
Nothing worthwhile is accomplished without hard work. 

It was hard work, it was discouraging work, and my whole heart had to 
be in it if I wanted to succeed. As time progressed, little by little, I under- 
stood more of the wonderful truths. They seemed to fit into my life. The way 
I wanted my life to be. More than anything I wanted a testimony of the 
truthfulness of the gospel. I never doubted my parents' teachings. I wanted 
to know through my own efforts. 

Sometimes when homesickness and discouragement nearly overtook me, 
I gained strength reading about the pioneers. I thought, what was it about 
those wonderful people that made it possible for them to endure all their 
hardships? It was not wealth, it was not knowledge, particularly, except 
the knowledge of God. I came to realize, it was the testimony. The testimony 
in their hearts of the truth of the gospel and the divinity of the mission of 



the Prophet Joseph Smith. This was the light that led them and made it 
possible to endure all things. 

True, I had no wilderness to fight, no mob violence to meet. But there 
were other battles to be won, a new language, to meet the challenge of life 
away from home and parental guidance in a strange land. Soon I found 
myself looking forward to the evenings when I could sit and read The Relief 
Society Magazines. They became my friends, my counselors, my advisors. 
They were helpers upon whose aid and wisdom I could rely. They were good 
company and kept me from feeling so alone. The Magazine met so many of my 
needs. Some day I wanted to marry, have a family, be a good homemaker, 
besides learning about the gospel through the Magazine. Here were tested 
recipes, sewing suggestions, budget planning. 

Reading from this book I came upon this familiar statement: "The women 
of yesterday thought and thought and then spent, while the women of today 
spend and spend and then think." 

I remember the first time I made corn-bread from a recipe in the Magazine. 
I really felt proud and happy, when the lady I worked for said it was very 
good. "Did you bring this recipe from Sweden?" I had never heard of corn- 
bread before. I was so thrilled when she asked me for a copy. I, writing 

Many times when in doubt what to have for dinner, she would ask: 
"Seen any good recipes in the Magazine lately?" 

If someone should ask me from what department of The Relief Society 
Magazine did I get the most help in learning a new language, I could not 
truthfully name one in particular. Each one filled my needs and gave me 
strength in so many ways. To me it has been a priceless privilege to become 
acquainted with the Relief Society Magazine at an early age. The Magazine 
helped me keep in touch with the Church and learn of its teachings. When 
attending the sacrament meetings, when I first came to Salt Lake City, it 
seemed everyone talked so fast. I had a hard time to follow the speaker. 
Not so with my Magazine. Here I could sit down and take time learning 
every word till I knew its meaning. 

Sometimes learning a new language can have its humorous sides. I remem- 
ber the time I had tried a recipe from the Magazine, "Chicken a la King." 
One day as I was walking to my sister's, I walked by a house with a sign 
in the window, which said: "Chicken Pox." Chicken a la King, Chicken Pox, 
where was the difference? Anyway, it must be good and homemade, having 
a sign in the window. It would be much fun to surprise my sister with some- 
thing good. After the sweet lady had explained to me what chicken pox was, 
we both had a good laugh. 

The Relief Society Magazine has introduced me to so many friends, 
many of them gone long ago. Their influence has been felt in my life. 

I never read the Magazine without feeling the love and sweet influence of 
the sisters who edit the Magazine. They have given me a well-balanced under- 
standing of the important things in life. 

It has contributed to my spiritual growth. Within me has been born a 
desire to be a better mother, wife, and homemaker. 

I still fall short of my goal, but I hope I will continue to learn and improve 
with the help of my Heavenly Father. 

I like to bear my testimony to you of the truth of the gospel. I want 
to express the joy that I have in the privilege of living in this wonderful land. 
I know that God lives, that Joseph Smith was a true prophet, and there is 
not a doubt in my mind, but that David O. McKay is a true prophet of God. 
I am so grateful to my Heavenly Father for all the blessings he has showered 
upon me and mine. They are too numerous to mention and too wonderful 
to understand. I pray our Heavenly Father to strengthen us in all we attempt 
to do that is right and proper. May we take from the simple things at hand 
and build our happiness. May we glorify his name by living lives worthy of 
his blessings. I pray that I may always walk in humility and obedience before 
him. This I do humbly and in the name of Jesus Christ, Amien. 



The Sheep That ^tmMf^H on Sunday 

Helen Nielson 

It was a beautiful spring day. We had shed our itchy winter woolen 
clothes and felt good. Mama, especially, seemed radiant because Papa 
was taking his family to church. It was a proud well-groomed family 
that Lizzie, clean and polished, conveyed to early morning Sabbath 
School. Mama looked stunning in her new white outfit. She had spent 
many hours during the past winter months sewing the tucks and frills 
that were to make the prettiest dress in town. She had planned this 
outfit very carefully, and not being adept with the crochet hook had 
prevailed upon a friend to help her with the hat. 

The crochet brim was like a wide doily of solid white petals, 
caught in a spider's web fastened to a round wire hoop. The crown, 
not more than four inches high, was made of folded white satin over 
stiffening. A rhinestone buckle, in front, held three large white plumes 
which draped over the top and down the side. The hat was indeed a 
masterpiece. No one copied it because no one could compete with 
the most beautiful lady around. 

A catalog had furnished her with the very latest in white kid 
gloves, and high, laced, white leather, high-heeled, pointed-toed 
shoes, which were a little too small. But rather than send them back, 
causing a delay of many weeks. Mama wore them, even though they 
pinched her feet. 

Papa looked handsome in his brown suit and derby hat, perched 
cockily on the side to show his reddish blond hair. A gold nugget 
taken from the "Bully Boy" mine adorned a tie pin, and a long gold 
chain dangled from his vest pocket, which concealed the big gold 
watch his father had given him. He carried a look of distinction which 
hardly fit his personality, for he was more on the sporty side. 

My brothers, James and Peter, wore loose white blouses with 
black bow ties, and knickers which were getting a bit too tight. 
They would do for this summer Mama had said, then James who 
was the older of the two, could have a new pair, and Peter could finish 
the old ones. Peter's, if they were not worn out, would be given to 
some needy little boy. 

My new white embroidered dress was pretty, with puffy sleeves 



and a pink ribbon sash. I wore matching bows of ribbon on each 
of my two long braids. The three of us wore heavy ribbed long black 
cotton stockings, and black laced shoes. 

Papa, a bit restless in church, kept pulling at his collar and 
crossing and uncrossing his legs, much to the annoyance of Mama. 
When closing prayer was said, he wasted no time ushering us out to 
our waiting Lizzie. Mama barely had time for a few handshakes and 
words of greeting. 

Lizzie needed no coaxing today, just one twist on the crank 
handle and she purred like a kitten. Papa slid over the side and 
under the steering wheel. He adjusted the spark, took off the brake, 
pulled down the gas, and we were off at a moderate rate of speed, 
about fifteen miles per hour, waving goodbye to our friends. 

It always pleased Papa as he left our friends behind in their 
carriages and horses, staring after us. 

Down Main Street we went without making the usual turn for 

"Where are we going?" inquired Mama, as we passed by our 

''Oh, I thought you might like a little ride," said Papa. 

"We should have gone home first and changed our clothes," re- 
marked Mama, not wanting to get dusty, and worrying about the 
breeze ruining her plumes. 

"We won't be long," said Papa, slowing down a little. It was 
such a lovely drive down past the depot, across the river bridge, and 
along the side of the hill. 

A short distance to the left, the dangerous river wound its way 
through pasture lands, and chattering magpies flew in and out the 
willows and bullberry bushes. On and on we went, thoroughly 
enjoying the scenery. Papa was always happy when escorting Lizzie 

Now and then a little breeze swayed the feathers on Mama's 
hat, and the sun played hide-and-go-seek through the lacy brim. 
I loved to watch the shadows dance about on her lovely face. The 
road was becoming more rough, and she held a little tighter to her 
hat to keep it from bobbing up and down. 

"Those look like sheep tracks along the hill, don't they?" in- 
quired Mama. 

"They sure do," replied Papa, "and not more than a day or two 

"I think we had better turn back, Ed. It's getting quite dusty," 
said Mama apprehensively. 

But Papa was busy scanning the hillside. Then, quite unexpect- 
edly, Peter cried, "Look out. Papa, some sheeps!" 

Papa slammed on his brake just in time to avoid hitting an 
old ewe and two baby lambs coming onto the road. The sudden 
force threw Mama against the windshield, brushing her forehead and 
bending her hat. Her hat pins pulled loose and with them came 
strands of long black hair. Papa's derby flew off his head and rolled 


JUNE 1964 

down the hill, luckily catching in a bush before reaching the river. 
The frightened sheep took off up the hill as Papa went over Lizzie's 
side, to chase after his hat. He came back, brushing off dirt and try- 
ing to push out the dents. Mama was on the point of tears. 

"Just look at my new hat!" she cried, more concerned about it 
than the bruise on her forehead. 'T knew we should have gone home 

Silently, Papa adjusted his hat, cranked up Lizzie, threw his 
legs back over the side and started down the road, trying to keep out 
of the deep wagon-wheel ruts. 

''Must have been some strays from the sheepherd. Sometimes 
an old ewe will hide under brush to lamb, and if the herders don't 
notice her, she's left behind," said Papa. 

But Mama was interested in only one thing now, and that was 
to get back home. 

''Please, Ed, turn around and let's go home," pleaded Mama, 
working to straighten out her hat. 

"Well, if you can turn around in these ruts, please take the 
wheel!" said Papa, trying to hold back his rising temper. 

At the foot of the hill, there was a nice wide spot in which to turn 
around. Papa maneuvered Lizzie skilfully, but almost backed into a 
little lamb lying under a sagebrush. He stopped, and we all climbed 
out, except Mama, to look at the little creature, which made no effort 
to move, but just looked sadly up at us. 

"Oh, little lambie, where is your mama?" asked Peter. 

"Where is its mama?" I asked of Papa. 

"I guess she's with the herd. They must have been separated," 
said Papa, then added, "it's only a couple of days old." 

"What will become of it. Papa, without a mama?" asked James. 

"Well, I guess it'll starve to death, or the coyotes will get it," 
he answered, not realizing the effect such a statement would have on 
his three children. 

"Come, we better be getting back," he said, starting for the car. 

"Are you going to leave the little lambie here alone for the 
coyotes to get?" cried Peter. 

"Can't we take it home with us?" I begged, feeling sorry for the 
helpless creature. "Please, Papa." 

"Surely you don't intend to put that animal in the car, with us 
in our best clothes!" exclaimed Mama. 

Papa wisely answered me by saying, "Ask your mother." 

Now Mama was compassionate, too, but in her opinion there 
was a place for everything, and our nice clean Lizzie was definitely 
no place for a smelly sheep. But with three children feeling so much 
sympathy for the little lamb, she gave her consent. 

"Where will you keep it?" she asked. 

Immediately we assured her we would build it a little pen. 

"Don't feel bad if it doesn't live," cautioned Papa. "It's pretty 
weak, and we might have trouble feeding it." 



Gently he picked up the lamb and laid it on the floor in the 
back of the car. 

We were about to start back when we heard a baa, baa, coming 
from a clump of bushes near a fence. It sounded like a cry for help. 
Papa, who was in the process of cranking Lizzie, looked toward Mama, 
then took off down the slope to investigate. 

"Stay in the car, children, I don't want you to get your clothes 
dirty," ordered Mama. 

"Addie!" called Papa, "bring me that white rag under the front 
seat, this sheep has a broken leg." 

Reluctantly Mama stood up from the seat, so I could pull out the 
rag. The sheep was caught in the fence, and in its struggle to get 
free had somehow broken its leg. 

Only too happy to be of help, I started on the run down the 
hill, and as is so often the case on a hillside, I tripped on a stump 
of sagebrush, which caused my downfall. I arose with the knees out 
of my stockings, and skin off my knees. 

"Why don't you watch where you're going?" was Papa's remark 
of sympathy as I limped up to him with tears running down my 
cheeks, and handed him the rag. "Now hand me that stick," he 
said, pointing to one just out of his reach. "Now grab hold of his 
hind legs while I put on a splint!" Even though the animal was 
lying flat on its side with Papa astride it, I had all I could do to 
hang onto those kicking legs. 

With this act of mercy accomplished. Papa suggested we get 
back to Lizzie. I lifted up my blood-stained petticoats from my 
bleeding knees, and followed behind. 

"Addie, what makes you so clumsy? Just look at yourself. 
All we need is another stray sheep and the day will be completely 
ruined," groaned Mama. 

I took my place on the back seat, being careful not to step on the 
little lamb. My knees hurt, but I fought back the tears and said 
nothing. Unfastening my garters, I rolled down the kneeless stock- 
ings to ease the pain. No one cared how much I was suffering. 

"Are you going to leave the poor sheep, Papa?" James asked. 

"The coyotes will get it. Papa. Don't leave it for the coyotes 
to get," whimpered Peter. 

"We have all the sheep we are going to have!" said Mama. 

"He'll be good. Mama." Another baa, baa, from the sheep, and 
James begged, "He wants to go with us, listen! I don't want to leave 
him for the coyotes." Little Peter began to cry. 

"Stand up a little, will you, Bess? Let me get that piece of rope 
from under the seat," said Papa to Mama. 

"Surely you don't intend to put another sheep in with us?" 
she asked, rising obediently. 

With rope in hand he headed for the helpless animal. It had 
occurred to him that, come winter, it would make good mutton. Why 
leave it for the coyotes when we could enjoy eating it? 


JUNE 1964 

The task of tying the back legs together, and carrying it to the 
Model T was laborious, but he managed. "Open the car door, James, 
and we'll put it beside the other one," he said. The little hungry 
lamb instinctively tried to find some much-needed nourishment 
from the new companion, but it wasn't the right kind of sheep. 

"Don't cry little sheeps," said Peter sympathetically, patting it 
on the head. 

"Sheep," corrected Mama. "I don't want to hear you say 'sheeps' 
again, Peter!" 

V\/e started for home. Papa and Mama were very quiet. James and 
Peter lay on their stomachs on the seat watching the sheep, and 
trying to calm them. At the top of the hill we noticed the old ewe 
and her twin lambs, feeding contentedly by the side of the road. 
Papa slowed down wondering what to do, and a little fearful of 
Mama's wrath. He thought of all the good winter meat we could 
have just for the taking, and decided to stop, 

"You couldn't possibly be thinking of taking more sheep?" 
Mama asked. 

"Bess, listen to reason, will you? Those sheep will give us all 
the mutton we need this winter," Papa tried to explain. 

"What would you suggest we do, get out and walk while you load 
up with sheep?" she retorted. 

Papa was trying to figure out how he could load all those sheep. 
He had no intention of leaving them behind. The one with the broken 
leg would cause less trouble up front beside Mama, he decided. The 
old ewe and the little ones would settle down beside her. The real 
trouble began when Papa started to put the crippled sheep in the 

"Lift up your skirts, Bess, and I'll set this cripple one in front," 
he said. 

"You'll do no such thing, I'll walk first!" threatened Mama, and 
out of the Ford she got, tight shoes and all. Papa looked down at her 
feet and decided to take a chance. He took off his stiff collar and 
derby hat, and laid them on the front seat, and started for the sheep. 

"Put a couple of rocks behind the back wheels, James, so she 
won't roll down hill. Addie, you take off your stockings, they're 
torn anyway, and you and Peter stand over there by the hill and 
don't let the sheep go past you." 

Holding my skirts away from my stinging knees, I did as he bade. 
We were never permitted to talk back to Papa. 

It was hard work trying to corner a sheep with two lambs, but we 
did. Papa grabbed the old ewe's two back legs so she couldn't kick, 
and tied them together with my black stockings. It took some doing 
to get those frightened sheep in Lizzie, and by the time we were 
through, our shoes were skinned, and our clothes torn and soiled. 

The little orphan lamb again searched for nourishment from 
the old mother, but the two stronger ones pushed it away. This 



annoyed Peter, and he scolded them for not letting the little one 

Mama was trudging along the dusty road quite some distance 
ahead. We drove up beside her and stopped. A feeling of guilt and 
shame came over Papa as he looked at her tear-stained face and dusty 
white shoes. ''Get in, Mama, we'll soon be home and everything will 
turn out all right," he spoke kindly. 

Unwilling, but with no other choice, she climbed in, not even 
taking the trouble to move her skirt away from the displeasing, 
crippled sheep. Papa pulled down on the gas lever and Lizzie shot 
full speed ahead. The sudden jar upset the already startled sheep, 
and Papa found it far from pleasant, driving twenty-five miles an hour 
over the rough wagon road with a car full of frightened, bleating 

Disheveled and hungry, we arrived home by way of the back 
streets, hoping not to be noticed by our friends and neighbors. Mama 
sat rigid, looking neither to the right nor left, as she brushed some 
straying locks back under her hat. The hat was never again quite 
straight, and it was a long time before Papa won her complete 

''You had better go on in the house with Mama and take care 
of those knees," said Papa, as he helped me over the side of the car. 

The old ewe, anxious to put her feet on solid ground, almost kicked 
off my stockings before Papa could get her tied to a tree, where she 
stayed until a pen was built. There was no fear of the lambs straying 
from their mother. 

Peter took complete possession of the orphan lamb, and, be- 
cause the others had treated it so badly, would have nothing whatso- 
ever to do with them. Papa carried it to the kitchen and laid it on a 
rug near the woodbox. 

"Don't be afraid, little lambie, we won't hurt you," said Peter, 
kneeling down beside it, stroking the soft, fleecy wool. 

The lamb could not stand or even hold up its head, it was so 
weak. Papa showed Peter how to hold its head so the fresh, warm 
milk, which he poured in its mouth with a spoon, could slowly trickle 
down its throat. Peter spent hours coaxing his new pet to drink, 
and often slept curled up beside it on the rug. 

It became a beautiful, lovely pet and followed Peter at every 
opportunity. They romped and played until completely exhausted, 
then would drop down on the grass to rest and sometimes have a 
short nap. 

Somehow the subject of lamb stew or mutton chops was never 
mentioned in connection with our pet. We enjoyed our winter meat, 
knowing full well that the little lamb was enjoying his grass and hay. 

Never again did any sheep take a ride in Lizzie. Even though 
Papa scrubbed that Model T inside and out several times. Mama 
claimed she could still detect the faint odor of sheep. But Papa 
said it was all imagination. 



The 134th Annual 

I N the beautiful springtime of the year, in the Tabernacle in Salt Lake City, Utah, 
April 4, 5, and 6, 1964, the 134th Annual General Conference of the Church was 
held and commemorated the organization of the Church on the 6th of April 1830. 

The rapid growth of the Church was revealed by the announcement of a 
membership of 2,117,451 as of December 31, 1963, with the number of full-time 
missionaries listed as 11,653. The unity and strength, as well as the continuity of 
inspired leadership, were demonstrated by President McKay, in his ninety-first 
year, who presided at all the conference sessions and conducted part of them 
and in the appointment of Paul Harold Dunn, thirty-nine, to be the new member 
of the First Council of Seventy. 

In his opening address, President McKay appealed to the saints throughout 
the world to live the principles of the gospel and thereby strengthen themselves 
and their homes: 

This morning I have in mind giving a warning to all young people 
relating to three dangers threatening the success and happiness of 
youth: First — the pernicious habit of smoking cigarettes; second — 
the increasing number of divorces; third — the tendency to hold less 
sacred the moral standards. . . . 

One of the most precious possessions is our families. The do- 
mestic relations precede, and, in our present existence, are worth more 
than all other social ties. They give the first throb of the heart and un- 
seal the deep foundations of its love. Home is the chief school of hu- 
man virtues. Its responsibilities, joys, sorrows, smiles, tears, hopes, 
solicitudes form the chief interests of human life. 

President Hugh B. Brown delivered an address in which he affirmed the 
meaning of the gospel of Jesus Christ in a world in which so many are frustrated 
in their search for truth. 


Anna B. Hart 

Mary R. Young 

Hazel S. Cannon ^^H 

Edith S. Elliott 

Mary V. Cameron 

Hazel S. Love fl 

Florence J. Madsen 

Afton W. Hunt 

Fawn H. Sharp fl 

Leone G. Layton 

Wealtha S. Mendenhall 

C6lestia J. Taylor 9 

Blanche B. Stoddard 

Pearle M. Olsen 

Anne R. Gledhill 9 

Evon W. Peterson 

Elsa T. Peterson 

Belva Barlow B 

Aleine M. Young 

Fanny S. Kienitz 

Zola J. McGhie 9 

Josie B. Bay 

Elizabeth B. Winters 

Oa J. Cannon fl 

Alberta H. Christensen 

LaRue H. Rosell 

Lila B. Walch 9 

Mildred B. Eyring 

Jennie R. Scott 

Lenore C. Gundersen 9 

Charlotte A. Larsen 

Alice L Wilkinson 

Marjorie C. Pingree 9 

Edith P. Backman 

LaPriel S. Bunker 

Darlene C. Dedekind 9 

Winniefred S. Manwaring 

Irene W. Buehner 

Cleone R. Eccles 9 

EIna P. Haymond 

Irene C. Lloyd 


General Conference 

Unlike those whose religious faith is uneasy and precarious in the 
modern world of expanding scientific knowledge, we are at home with 
the most advanced truths discovered by scientists and with all compe- 
tent philosophic thought — with truth wherever found — because our 
religion enjoins in us a love of knowledge and education; encourages us 
to seek understanding through broadening our vision and deepening our 
insight. This is an eternal quest. 

In a description of God's dealings with men through his prophets, President 
Nathan Eldon Tanner declared: 

While the prophets in the old land were receiving revelations from 
God, the people of Lehi on this, the American Continent, were not left 
without guidance. Prophets were raised up through whom God spoke 
and directed his people in all their doings as they would listen. He re- 
vealed to them, also, 600 years before Christ's coming, that he would 
come, that he was the Savior of the world, that he would be persecuted 
and crucified, and that he would be resurrected. 

One of the most blessed and heartfelt events of the conference was the 
farewell message of President McKay, delivered with love and solicitude: 

It is a great thing to be a father of boys and girls. I think it is a 
precious thing for our boys and girls to realize their responsibility to car- 
ry their father's name in love and honor. . . . We have had a wonderful 
conference. . . . Let us take with us appreciation of being a father, ap- 
preciation of being a mother. And boys and girls, go with the responsi- 
bility that you have to bring comfort and gladness and thankfulness to 
the hearts of your fathers and mothers. 


In Memoriam — Gladys Pratt Young 

March 24, 1895 - April 3, 1964 

Gladys Pratt Young, wife of S. Dilworth Young of the First Council 
of Seventy, passed away in Salt Lake City, Utah, April 3, 1964. Of 
illustrious pioneer heritage, through the line of Parley P. Pratt, she 
was born in Colonia Juarez, Chihuahua, Mexico, the youngest daugh- 
ter of Helaman and Victoria Billingsley Pratt. Both her father and 
her brother, Rey Lucero Pratt, served as presidents of the Mexican 
Mission, and the members of the Pratt family are greatly loved and 
respected throughout the Church. Gladys spent her early years in 
the Mexican Colonies and lived with her brother Rey L. Pratt in Mex- 
ico City after the death of her parents. She was married to S. Dil- 
worth Young, May 31, 1923, in the Salt Lake Temple. 

A talented woman, skilled in the creative arts. Sister Young 
wrote and directed many dramas and pageants for the Church and for 
the communities in which she lived, generously sharing her gifts, her 
time, and her energy. Skilled in many household handicrafts, she 
excelled in such accomplishments as designing costumes, painting 
trays, rug making, and quilting, and she taught these skills to many 
women in the missions and at home. 

She served as president of the New England Mission Relief So- 
ciety from 1947 to 1951 during the time that her husband presided 
over that mission. 

The General Board of Relief Society, and the membership 
throughout the Church extend heartfelt sympathy to Elder Young 
and to the other family members. May the beautiful life and the 
lovely ways of Gladys Pratt Young be a blessed memory to them. 

Always the Moment 

Lael W. Hill 

Shall we look back and say to each other, Remember, remember — 
That was the first day we looked on each other's faces 
The instant of just before hearing each other's laughter 
The merest beginning of almost-touching our fingers? 

Shall we look back together sometime, in a frantic recalling 
Trying to capture the color of eyes that were lighted. 
Listening long for the music that once was our voices. 
Reaching the hands of remembering — vainly, vainly? 

If we knew — if our longing could wake an awareness, a knowledge, 
The moment of then lies parallel with our tomorrow! 
Look forward to loving: our love will be always beginning — 
Nothing is lost that we live so intensely, so purely. 



RaTYiona W. Cannon 

Among the women appointees to Gov- 
ernment positions by President Lyndon 
B. Johnson are the following: Mrs. Nor- 
man Chandler, sixty-two, as a member 
of the Advisory Committee to the Unit- 
ed States Information Agency; Mrs. 
Virginia Mae Brown, forty, to the Inter- 
state Commerce Commission; Mrs. In- 
dia Edwards, almost seventy, to be 
special consultant on youth employ- 
ment to the Secretary of Labor; Mrs. 
Katherine E. White, fifty-seven, to be 
ambassador to Denmark; Mrs. Herbert 
Stats, fifty-three, as a consultant in the 
Office of Aging, Department of Health, 
Education, and Welfare, and coordinator 
of Senior Citizens Month (May); Mrs. 
Mary Keyserling as director of the 
Women's Bureau, Labor Department. 

THE BEGUM (Princess) C. AHMED of 
Pakistan served as a delegate at the 
installation of President Leoni of Vene- 
zuela. The Begum was the first woman 
from Pakistan to be a delegate to the 
United Nations. Her countrywomen 
now vote, and Pakistan has sixteen 
women in Parliament, and a woman am- 
bassador to Italy. 

It has been estimated by the Associ- 
ated Press of the United States that 
from a total of 49,034 reporters and 
editors of major newspapers, 17,274 
are women who are finding rewarding 
careers in various fields of journalism. 

QUEEN ELIZABETH of Great Britain, 
thirty-seven, gave birth to her fourth 
child (third son and third in line of 
succession) on March 10, 1964. A forty- 
one gun salute heralded the news 
across London. 

author of Robert Frost and John Bart- 
lett, the Record of a Friendship (Holt, 
Reinhart and Winston, publishers) 
which reveals many aspects of the life 
and the poetry of this "genius with all 
that genius implies . . . insight, energy, 

RUTH ABAT is public relations director 
and advertising manager for Raymond 
International, a heavy construction 
company, with headquarters in New 
York City and construction contracts in 
many countries. Miss Abat has been a 
staff writer for several large newspapers 
and was formerly editor of the Dun and 
Bradstreet house publication, New York 

EILEEN FARRELL has been described 
by many eminent music critics as the 
finest dramatic soprano in the United 
States. "Her voice is full-bodied and 
rich, the diction faultless, and her 
rhythm and phrasing unequaled." She 
has sung in many of the world's great- 
est concert halls and has appeared with 
the most acclaimed symphony orches- 
tras and in leading roles in operas and 



''Occupation — Keeps House'' 

Laurel Ulrich 

The quotations reprinted in this article are from the book ''The Letters 
of Emily Dickinson," edited by Thomas H. Johnson, and are used by special 
permission from Harvard University Press. 

Main Street in Amherst, Massa- 
chusetts, leads gently past the 
quiet common and a short row 
of shops, starts its ascent near the 
towered red brick police station, 
grows steeper as it moves into 
a residential section, then thrusts 
breathlessly upward until, just 
surmounting a view of the hills 
beyond, it passes the thick maze 
of hemlock which screens the 
mansion where Emily Dickinson 
lived and died. 

Emily's home is not open to the 
public. The white sign on the side 
of the house which claims it as 
her home can barely be glimpsed 
through the branches of the 
hedge, which reaches well past 

the sill of the second story win- 
dows. Retreating back down the 
hill, one can peer through the 
driveway opening and see some- 
thing of the house — solid, con- 
servative red brick cupola crowd- 
ed. To the left of the driveway is 
the clay-colored picket fence of 
''The Evergreens," the house Ed- 
ward Dickinson built for Emily's 
brother Austin and his bride. 
Towering over the pickets is an- 
other hemlock hedge and, pierc- 
ing it, a row of pinions standing 
like flagstaffs before an embassy. 
The house itself is a clay-colored 
frame version of Edward's own. 

It would be hard to imagine 
either of these houses open to 



tourists. There is a mystery in 
their aloofness which invites spec- 
ulation on the lives within. It is 
easy to imagine a slender woman 
in white darting into a doorway 
to avoid being seen, to picture a 
'*New England Nun" tending her 
flowers and her broken heart be- 
hind the tall hedge. Like the citi- 
zens of Amherst in Emily's day, 
seeing the hedge, hearing the 
half-whispered rumors, we began 
to believe the legend of "Miss 
Emily." If we were to step 
through the hedge, wouldn't we 
see her there now, sitting in her 
garden dreamily writing in a 
small notebook, her face as pale 
as her dress, thinking of the leg- 
endary lover she had been forced 
to renounce in her youth? 

Unfortunately for the legend, 
if we had been able to penetrate 
the hedge in Emily's day, we 
would probably have seen her, 
with her auburn hair neatly part- 
ed in the middle, dressed in apron 
(a white one?), kneading bread 
for the family, or -doing any one 
of a dozen homely tasks. A house- 
hold of 100 years ago required im- 
mense labor to operate. It took 
the efforts of Mrs. Dickinson, 
Lavina, an Irish maid, and Emily 
to keep the large Dickinson house 
going. There were vegetables to 
gather and preserve, apples to 
pick and make into sauce and 
cider. There were starched shirt 
fronts to iron with heavy irons 
heated and reheated on the wood- 
burning stove. There were scrub- 
bing and sweeping and dusting 
and polishing — all without the 
benefit of vacuum cleaners — and 
all the while carrying the weight 
of a many-petticoated, full-length 
dress. Emily hated housework, 
saying she "preferred pestilence." 

But she carried her share of the 
duties. Her province seems to 
have been cooking. 

Writing to her friend Abiah 
Root, the fifteen-year-old Emily 
says: 'T am going to learn to 
make bread tomorrow. So you 
may imagine me with my sleeves 
rolled up, mixing flour, milk, 
saleratus, etc. with a deal of grace. 
I advise you if you don't know 
how to make the staff of life to 
learn with dispatch." Eleyen 
years later she was an expert 
baker. At the Amherst Cattle 
Show in 1856 her loaf of "rye and 
Indian" bread won second prize — 
seventy-five cents. To his death 
Edward Dickinson was said to 
have refused any bread not of 
Emily's baking. 

In a letter to Mrs. Holland, in 
1871, Emily says she is "pleased 
the Gingerbread triumphed." The 
recipe was Emily's: "1 Quart 
Flour, 1/2 Cup Butter, 1/2 Cup 
Cream, 1 Table Spoon Ginger, 1 
Tea Spoon Soda, I Salt. Make up 
with Molasses — ." 

It was natural that being cook 
she also made the fires. Writing 
to Austin at six a.m. she said: 
"I add a word to say that I've got 
the fires made and waked the in- 
dividuals, and the Americans are 
conquering the British in the tea- 
kettle .... Will now proceed to 
get breakfast, consisting of hash 
and brown bread — Dessert — A. 

When Forester Ainsworth took 
the Tenth National Census in 
Hampshire County, Massachu- 
setts, in 1880, he listed Emily E. 
Dickinson, Occupation: "Keeps 
House." To all the world this was 
Emily Dickinson's full-time occu- 


JUNE 1964 

pation. Those around her knew 
she was in the habit of writing 
small verses and strangely liter- 
ary letters to her friends, but they 
had no idea that at night, v/hile 
the rest of the family slept, Emily 
Dickinson was an intense artist 
who wrote volumes of poems, 
many of them among the great- 
est in American letters. Modern 
housewives who find themselves 
exhausted after a day with auto- 
matic washer and electric frypan 
can perhaps understand one rea- 
son for Emily's retirement from 
village life — the need for time 
and energy to pursue her clandes- 
tine life's work. 

Part of the greatness of Emily 
Dickinson's poetry is in the start- 
ling precision of her metaphors. 
Is it surprising that many of these 

come from housework? When she 
becomes disillusioned with an 
idea, it falls and breaks ''At bot- 
tom of my Mind," like a plate 
falling off a shelf. She talks of 
brushing away a summer like a 
fly, or of winding "the months in 
balls." ''sweeping up the heart" 
becomes part of the bustle in the 
house after a death. Using themes 
another poet might treat with 
"high seriousness," Emily almost 
playfully confronts us with home- 
ly fact, with trimming a lamp- 
wick, sifting flour, making a bed. 
She catches us off guard, teases 
us with her slant way of seeing 
things, and, in the end, profound- 
ly moves us. E. Dickinson, Occu- 
pation: Poet, triumphs; but not 
without retaining part of Miss 
Emily, Occupation: Keeps House. 

For a fascinating treatment of the home life of Emily Dickinson, especially 
in the earlier years, see Millicent Todd Bingham, Emily Dickinson's Home, 
New York: Harper & Row, Inc., 1955. 

Tide Turn 

Marjorie Newton 
Punchbowl, New South Wales, Australia 

I have come back to the sea, seeking strength. 
Here I will answer myself, here decide. 
The beach is deserted, lonely its length, 
And I am at one with sun, surf, and tide. 

My cliff top is shared with the sound-swift terns, 
The salt wet wind blowing steady and free. 
And all that is sane within me yearns 
For the pattern of life as it used to be. 

The breakers are never still; ebb and surge 
Are marked by the curves of froth on the shore, 
And change is constant: the patterns emerge 
Only to mingle their colors once more. 

I will face the wind and the turning tide. 
For the sea will return to the land. 
And ever the meaning of life will abide. 
Clear patterned on smooth and shining sand. 


r Heart 




Synopsis: Selena and Belle Baldwin, 
sisters, travel across the plains with 
their own outfit in the company of Lon 
Holiday, captain of fifty, and Josiah 
Blodgett, captain of ten. Selena's fi- 
ance died at Winter Quarters, and 
still bitter and sorrowing, she refuses 
to take an interest in Lon, who has 
loved her since their first meeting. 
Belle and Josiah are married immedi- 
ately after the arrival of the wagon 
train in the Valley of the Great Salt 
Lake, and, later, they decided to go to 
San Bernardino, California, with the 
saints who plan to settle there. Selena 
and Lon also leave with the company 
for California, but when a division of 
the company is made, Lon and Selena 
are separated. Alfred Quale, also on 
his way to California, begins his court- 
ship of the lovely Selena. 

There were days at a time now 
when the cemetery at Winter 
Quarters and the happenings 
there seemed very far away to 
Selena. She was enjoying the 
companionship of her new friend, 
Alfred Quale. He was so good- 
natured and cheerful that her de- 
spondency seemed to lessen with 
the passing of each day. 

Chapter 5 
Hazel M. Thomson 

Too, some of Belle's enthusiasm 
may have rubbed off on Selena.